Part Two

disclaimer : I own nothing, that goes to our dear Leigh, James and Darren

John smiled in satisfaction.

He was almost done.

The house was already rigged, thanks to Obi, with the exception of the furnace. All he had to do was go and make a few final adjustments.

He stared at the layouts of the traps, how he adored each one, each one an extension of himself. The razor box, the furnace, and then the needle pit. Amanda had given him that idea, as he saw the old scars of track marks. People like Xavier did that to her.

John hoped every one of those needles would puncture him, the man was of no use at all to the world.

There was no game for Amanda, since her game would be an unspoken one. Just to make sure no one hurt the boy. It was a big risk to send her in that house, but he was sure she would be able to do it. She would have the antedote before even going into the house, and then he'd give her another one afterwards just to be safe.

Thinking of putting her back in a game made his blood grow cold now, but he knew it must be done. How else could she continue on after him?

Surely Amanda wouldn't bail out, not at this point, but he had to make sure.

In the distance he heard her turning over in bed, still sleeping. It was the early hours of the morning, sometime around four o'clock he supposed.

Maybe he could leave before she awoke, to go see the house.

His eyes scanned the room looking for something to leave her, a note to tell her where he'd gone. Taking a marker he wrote on a notepad, "Gone out. Be back tonight. - John."

He pulled on a longsleeved shirt, and then fetched his robe. When he entered the room for his robe, he caught sight of her.

Still a wreck from her 'session' the night before, but even more of a wreck now from their night's activities. He thought for a moment of kissing her, but decided against it,

for if she woke up she would never let him go.

The house, one of his most elaborate games to date, had to be finished. Afterall, what is an invention without it's maker?

Hood up over his face, he left in the cover of the morning darkness, driving to his destination.

Amanda woke up alone, but she had expected that.

She didn't expect John to be gone completely. For almost half an hour she searched around the lair but no sign could be found of him, until she saw the note.

"Oh." she thought to herself, "Business I guess.." she knew well what that meant.

Upon checking the clock in his office, she frowned at the time. 1:42 pm.

"God, I slept that long?" she thought to herself, a hand rubbing her stomache which was growling now.

The lair was a strangely beautiful place. It held so many creations within it's walls, creations which could take lives. Scenarios that would destroy lives.

John had made so many of them there were enough to last well after he was dead and gone. He'd told her specifically to follow his instructions and designs at first, at least

until she got the method down. Now John wasn't just playing a game, he was playing Mechanic Engineering teacher to Amanda.

Her stomache growled loudly suddenly, and Amanda frowned again. She checked the small refigerator John kept in the office, only to find iced tea and some bread.

"Doesn't have much in the food department does he?"

The only solution was to go out and get something, despite Amanda not knowing the neighborhood too well. "Oh well."

She took a similar note pad, and jotted down , "Went to the store. Be back later. - Amanda"

After fixing up her hair and wiping off her makeup, she deemed herself decent enough in appearance to leave the lair.

She didn't expect to be out so late, but what was a simple running out to the convienence store turned into a six hour excursion with a former friend. A former friend

who Amanda guessed was back to being just a regular friend.

The two actually bumped into each other in the middle of the Seven Eleven, full body collide was more like it, coffee splashing everywhere involved.

Amanda thought she recognized the profile, even though some extra weight was on the woman now.

"Tara?"

The woman looked up, at first not seeming to know whom she was talking to. A look of remembrance came to her though, "Amanda!"

She was a small, delicate woman, skin and hair slightly darker than Amanda's. Time had caused her to gain some weight and wrinkles, but she was still pretty as usual, as Amanda remembered her.

"I haven't seen you in six years!" Tara wailed, her arms coming to embrace Amanda tightly, "How's been things?"

"Um..." Amanda smiled, "Good. You?"

"Oh, fine, fine," Tara looked at her watch, "Let's chat over lunch?"

Amanda stared at the coffee and box of ring dings that were now on the floor, "Sounds good to me."

"Oh, c'mon I know a nice Italian 'bout fifteen minutes from here, Cesar's or something..."

With that Amanda was dragged to the restaurant.

Tara could barely shut her mouth long enough to chew food. The whole time she talked about work, married life, the old days. She updated Amanda on where all their old

friends and ex boyfriends were now. To Amanda, some of them sounded good enough for the game.

"So, what's been up with you?" Tara asked, passing the parmesian to Amanda.

"Reader's digest, or unabridged?"

Tara laughed, "Everything juicy."

"Well, for starters I was in jail."

Tara's eyes widened, "For what?"

"I was framed."

Her eyes widened more, "Framed? Oh my God, Amanda, you should..."

Amanda smiled, "It's being taken care of. But I spent three and a half years in that place."

Tara shoved a forkfull of linguine in her mouth, "My God, Amanda, I would've come to help you if I knew what happened..."

"Then I started doing heroin."

Tara nearly spit out her food, "Heroin? The girl who would barely drink at parties?"

"Yep. Two whole years, starting in prison. I've been clean seven months." Amanda raised up her arms to show the healing track marks.

"Good for you!" Tara said, taking Amanda's arm and inspecting it. "May I ask how?"

A wider smile graced Amanda's lips, "The man in my life helped me get off it."

"Oh, you've got a catch there then! Tell me about the fellow."

Amanda's smile faded, "He's older and he's...sick."

"With what?"

"Cancer. They say it's terminal but part of me wishes so badly they were just mistaken. But he says the cancer is a good thing! Helped him see life more clearly. He said

losing his own life helped him go out and save other people's. He saved mine and now we're together, but... it's not for long. I give him two years at most from this point. And that's being generous."

Tara's jaw had dropped completely open, "I'm so sorry, Amanda, really. It must be so hard..." her voice faded off and she dropped her fork.

"Oh please, Tara, I didn't mean to upset you. I haven't seen you in almost six years, let's talk about the better things in life!"

The two went out to the other extravagant places in the nice part of the city, window shopping and even stopping in to see an art gallery. When Amanda caught sight of the time, nearly seven o'clock, she yelped, "Oh my God, I need to get back, John will worry!"

Tara looked over, "I'll drive you back, Mandy."

Amanda gulped, Tara couldn't see the lair. "It's ok, just drive me to the seven eleven. My place is a block from there, and it's hard to find so I'll just walk."

Tara shrugged, "Whatever."

After saying goodbyes and exchanging numbers, Amanda found herself in front of the store again. This neighborhood was so much different at night, and it scared her thoughroughly.

Their lair was in the adandoned warehouse just down a block from the main avenue. Maybe five minutes from the intersection.

Hurrying down, Amanda swore she heard a noise behind her. Shivering from the night cold, she continued down the road, but couldn't shake the feeling someone was there.

In a few more paces she would've reached the doors to the warehouse, but then they showed themselves.

Two men, both burley and hulking, stepped in front of her trail.

One gripped her shoulder, "Well well, what do we have here?"

"Rather late to be out for a woman such as you!" the other sneered, his hand moving to his pocket and bringing out a small pocketknife.

Amanda didn't say a word, but didn't move either. She was still debating in her mind what to do. The men were coming closer, the knife veering towards her throat.

In a moment of weakness she blurted out, "Shit."

To this the men laughed, turning and giving each other knowing glances.

"So, what should we do with this one?"

The question was never answered. The one without the knife grabbed her around the neck, choking her. Instinctively she pulled at his thumbs, and managed to tear his hands from her neck. The one with the knife, upon seeing this, hit her in the head. Amanda fell to the ground, her throat and head burning from the impact.

She put her arms above her head to block from the blow she knew was coming. It never came.

Lowering her forearms from in front of her face she saw the two men, one with his eyes wide, staring at the other. Then she saw it.

A blade, right through his neck. His mouth hung open and air was hissing through his mouth.

"What the fuck?!" the man screamed seeing his now mortally wounded companion.

The blade was pulled out from his throat with a rip, blood and flesh still on it. The man fell nearly lifelessly to the ground, left to wheeze his last few moments alive.

Amanda would know that voice from anywhere. John's face was concealed by the robe, and the blade extended from his sleeve, past the leather glove on his hand.

"People like you, taking advantage of women in the dark, are such cowards. You people don't even deserve a chance to live."

Before the man could make another protest, John lunged at him, sending the blade through his shoulder. He howled, but was soon silenced as John's elbow made contact

with his temple.

John motioned towards him, "You get that one, I'll get the dead one."

Up until this point Amanda had merely watched in amazement. Without protest she grabbed his arms and begun to drag him inside.

"Take him to the lobby, he'll be out a while. I'll deal with him when I'm done."

John had already began lugging the other towards a different entrance, so Amanda just complied and dragged the living one with her.

The elevator shook with the weight of his body as she descended to the lair. For a brief moment his eyes fluttered open, but quickly closed again. Yes, he was indeed going to be out for a while.

Doing as John told her she left him in a bloody heap on the lobby floor. There was blood on her hands, but instead of being disgusted she felt a sense of retribution.

After cleaning up she sat down in a chair right next to Billie. The doll that had once terrified her now amused her as a beloved toy would amuse a child. Why she named it

Billie she wasn't sure, except upon remembrance that one she had a dog named Billie, so it brought back memories of childhood. John hadn't protested the nickname, rather smiled every time she said something about it.

Now she slipped her hand into the socket meant for ventriliquism work. Billie's lower jaw began to move. Amanda smiled, moving it more. Then she added words, and for a moment doubted her own sanity.

"Hello," she said, trying to make her voice deep like John's, "You've been a naughty boy, and for that you must take my challenge."

"It's 'I want to play a game'."

Amanda nearly jumped as John's voice seemed to be right in her ear. He was standing at the door frame though, something reminicent of a smile on his lips. "Having fun?"

She spoke through Billie, "Maybe just a little."

"I'll make you one, you know."

"Hmm?"

"We'll name her Lillie. One all your own, so you don't have to use old Billie forever."

"I'd like one of my own." Amanda mused as she removed her hand from Billie. This puppet would always hold a place in her heart though, for reasons that clung to her very existence.

"Anyway," John said, before he coughed roughly, "I'm going to go take care of that one." he pointed towards the lobby.

"Alright."

"Oh, you know I meant to tell you, it's not a good idea to leave the lair after dark. Just remember that so I don't have to come dashing to your rescue again."

Amanda nodded but it was in vain, for John had already left.

She didn't see him again for about a half hour. When she went looking she found him strapping the now half-conscious man to a contraption.

It was a chair, with a clamp over the mouth so that they could not be heard. His arms and legs were strapped down. There was a peice of metal around his neck and another contraption hovering over his groin.

"What's that?" Amanda asked.

"The Clamp." John said, "This is just the prototype, and I wasn't expecting to use it so early, but the moment has come."

When it seemed the trap was all in place he stepped back.

"I don't do this often, but to those who are found traipsing around the lair I use for these purposes. To test out the trap."

"Ah." Amanda nodded.

"So, I suppose we should try it out?"

Amanda seemed to shrink a bit then, "R..right now?"

He hadn't thought about that she wasn't ready yet to witness a trap in motion again. She was still in 'training'.

"If you don't want to see it, you don't have to."

Amanda bit her lip, "I'll stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

John shrugged and walked up next to the man, who was now mostly awake, and stared him down. John took the clamp around his mouth off.

"May I ask you, sir, what exactly you were doing outside of my home?"

He seemed stunned, "I didn't know it was your home!"

"Well, alright," John sighed, "But what exactly were you doing to this woman?" he pointed towards Amanda.

"Oh please, come on, we was just having a little fun! We was just -"

"Shut up." John comanded, "What is your name?"

"Nick."

"Nick... What makes you think you deserve to live?"

His answer didn't matter because John clamped the mouth peice over again, and the man was silenced. However, his eyes were wide in shock.

"You see Nick, now you're going to have a purpose. Your death will give someone else's life a purpose, do you understand?" John pulled the lever, "And with that, I bid you

adieu. Game over."

Amanda winced as she was the trap flex, first clamping down hard on his groin. Muffled screams were masked by the metal, but his eyes were now flung wide open and his fingers lexed and legs writhed in shock. At first it scared Amanda, but she found herself growing cold as his torture went on. When John felt the man had enough she clicked a small button near the lever, and the metal around the man's neck twisted, breaking his vertebrae instantly.

"My God." Amanda said, looking at the man's dead body, his head hanging lifelessly.

John turned to her, "If you'd please, I need some time to dispose of this one. You can sketch something, if you have any ideas."

Turning away from the sight, now as if it was nothing, she walked over to the drawing board. Grabing a pencil and a piece of oaktag she began to sketch.

It was Lillie.

She drew Billie's face, but the hair was long and black, and it wore a dress. The general facial features were smaller, but otherwise it looked like a twin to Billie.

Unaware of how much time had passed, she felt his bony hand upon her shoulder.

"Lillie?"

"Yep." in scribbly letters she printed Lillie on top of the sketch.

John's hand, still gloved, moved to her neck, caressing the soft skin of her throat. It was bruised now from being choked, so he tried to soothe it, erase the pain that happened.

"A wife for Billie I suppose?"

"Why not." Amanda replied, laying her own hand over his.

He moved his face next to her ear, his stubbly chin and sticky lips touching the warm flesh of her earlobe and face. "Can you still love this monster, Amanda?"

The sudden question surprised her, why would he ask such a thing?

"You're no monster, but yes, yes I still love you."

"Good." he said before taking her earlobe in his mouth. She gasped, suddenly stiff with arousal. Taking her hand he helped her raise from the chair, his arms moving around her, his hands feeling her body underneath of him.

She kissed him then, harder than he expected, and in her aggression she was the one who led him to the bedroom. Above him she kissed him, her hands roaming over the

same scars they had the night before. Now they felt more like beauty marks she was acquainted with than foreign scars on his body. Tonight, John took more time in discovering her, kissing the purple bruises on her neck, caressing the track marks that haunted her arms.

For tonight, as Amanda moved above him, she refused to believe he was a monster. She refused to believe he was a murderer, or a liar, or a dying man. He was just the man who had changed her life. The man who had helped her.

But when she finally nestled herself next to him, exhausted and satisfied, he had a coughing fit. It only reminded her that there was not much more time for him, for them.

It broke her heart to hear him coughing so much, but she threw those thoughts out of her mind.