Author's Note: Boy, two chapters in one day! I think this is a new one for me. LOL Of course it helps that this particular chapter has been mostly written for quite awhile now and I was just waiting to get the previous one written so that I could make the final changes and touches to this one. I hope it works well. And you get to see a side of Eleesa that you haven't seen before. Yes, she can be a vicious little thing at times. Or maybe that's me. I just love torturing Knives. It really makes my day;-)

Anyway, please Read and Review! I really want to know what you think!

Ormandria

Eleesa stood by the well, watching the jeep as it approached. She has halfway tempted to turn around and go inside, but she knew that it wouldn't do any good. Even from this distance the two men reeked of determination and self importance. More importantly, they reeked of blood. One of them was a killer, while the other was the one ordering the killing.

It wasn't just her empathy that told her this, though. There had been rumors about these two going around for years. Most of the people in New Maine were terrified of them. Rick Rakold, who owned New Maine and all the land in a fifty mile radius, and Fox Gamblin, his personal body guard, or personal assassin, depending on which rumor's you wanted to listen to.

They were most likely here about the well again. Last time Rakold had come out to talk to her he had been alone. This time he wanted back-up. He was afraid of her. She could taste it in the air around him, it was so intense. So he was finally bringing Gamblin in some inane belief that it would change matters.

The jeep pulled up about twenty feet away and the two men got out. They walked over to Eleesa, who continued to stand where she was, waiting for them. Her eyes scanned them and she quickly made a mental note of the gun that was harnessed at Gamblin's side.

"Eleesa dear," Rakold simpered. "How are you today?"

"What are you doing back here Rakold? I thought I told you to leave and not come back."

"Tch, tch… My dear, this is my land that you are currently residing on. And my water that you are currently pumping into your well." He flicked his hand against the well for emphasis.

Eleesa fought her impatience back as she sneered at the would-be emperor of New Maine. "This is a planet and as such, it belongs to those that inhabit it. Not to worms like you that think they are better then everyone else."

"Wrong answer," he snarled back as he reached inside his coat to pull out a deed. He flashed it in front of her, as his mouth upturned into a vicious grin. "This proves that everything that is on my property belongs to me. That means that your little house and barn, all your little plants, everything, belongs to me. And since you refuse to pay me my due in rent and taxes, I am hereby evicting you from the property with nothing but the clothes on your back."

He paused and let his eyes linger over her figure for a brief moment before he went on. "Of course, I might just decide to take those too, and then maybe you can think of some other way to earn them back."

It was the wrong statement at the wrong time. Eleesa, her temper already worn thin by this man and his repeated refusals to let her live in peace, grabbed Rakold's arm in a tight grip. Her eyes were filled with rage. That this man thought he could even begin to hold some power over her, when he was nothing but a weak-willed, speck of a human, was beyond her. Especially when he was so filled with fear. She laughed sharply at the look on his face.

Rakold cried out involuntarily, wincing as he felt severe pressure on his arm. His knees began to buckle. He screamed out as he felt his arm snap in two.

It would be so easy, Eleesa thought to herself, to rip his arm right off of him. She almost did too, when she felt the barrel of a gun next to her head.

"Let him go," Gamblin said in a calm voice. He held no fear of her, but instead seemed to respect that she was definitely a dangerous woman at the moment. Eleesa loosened her grip and let Rakold go. It wasn't that she was afraid. She was simply smart. If she was busy ripping off Rakold's arm, she wouldn't be able to defend against Gamblin should he decide to shoot.

Gamblin kept the gun level to her head, not taking his eyes off of her while he spoke to Rakold. "You okay, boss?" he asked.

Rakold leaned against the well, his face contorted in agony as he looked at Eleesa. She could feel the hate radiating off them now, and wasn't sure which she liked more. The taste of the fear, or the taste of pure, unadulterated hatred. She savored the flavors of both for the briefest of moments. She had grown to enjoy these chances to inflict emotional suffering on people. It gave her the opportunity to release all her pent up anger and frustration on someone else, giving her the chance to watch them writhe in agony once in a while. Chances that were few and far between, since normal humans were more like a plague to her, hurting to badly to be around.

"Leave," she repeated, not giving Rakold a chance to answer. "Leave and never come back."

"Missy, I don't think you get the big picture here," commented Gamblin casually. "I'm the one holding the gun." As if to prove the point, he caulked the hammer. Though, he never got the chance to pull the trigger.

Eleesa's patience was finally spent. Without so much as a thought, she quickly thrust her hand out to her side, hitting the killer in the chest and causing him to fall backwards to the ground as the gun slipped from his hands. Blood spurted out of Gamblin's mouth and from his chest, his dead eyes widen in utter surprise, as Eleesa pulled her hand back just as quickly, looking at it in amazement.

Rakold's fear turned to pure terror as he watched the scene unfold, it what seemed to him to be eternal slow-motion, unable to believe what he had just seen. His breath caught in his throat as he stumbled back in a panic. He barely caught himself on the well as he nearly fell in his rush to get away from Eleesa.

"Yo…You…," he stuttered, tears streaming down his face, the pain in his arm forgotten.

"You're a monster!" he screamed.

He turned and ran, his useless arm dangling by his side and ignoring the jeep that had brought him here. His only thoughts were to get as far away as his legs could carry him. The deed that he had been waving around a few minutes before fluttered down gently to lie in the dirt next to the well.

Eleesa noticed none of this. It didn't concern her at the moment. All she could do was to stare at her right hand, morbidly mesmerized by the still beating heart the lay within its grasp.

It happened so quickly that Knives barely had time to blink. The fluidity of motion and the speed with which that motion was carried out left him salivating and wishing that he were free of his mental restraints and on the other end of the gun that was now in Eleesa's hand; the same gun that he had been holding until she so nimbly took it from his own fingers.

The first bullet struck the leader's wrist, causing him to drop his shotgun with a scream of pain. The second bullet went straight through his shoulder. Eleesa was standing straighter then ever. Her eyes were the only things that truly betrayed any real emotion and although Knives couldn't be certain, he thought there was a sense of loathing and bitter enjoyment in them.

This woman was definitely the real thing. A near identical version to he and Vash, only more centered emotionally and physically.

"I told you to leave once already. Do yourselves a favor and don't make me tell you again." Eleesa's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Or next time I start aiming lower." As if to show how serious she was, Eleesa lowered the level of the gun's barrel to hip level so that it was pointing directly at the groin of one of the accomplices standing in the jeep. A vindictive smile started to play at the corners of her mouth.

The four other outlaws, being smart enough to put two and two together, scrambled to get their comrades, back into the jeep. The leader, spurting vital red fluids all over himself and paying no attention to anything other than his injured wrist and shoulder, had to be hand-lifted into the back of the vehicle. One of the others quickly grabbed the gun that had fallen onto the hood of the jeep only after he looked up to ensure he wouldn't get shot himself for trying, and loaded it into the jalopy as well. Once everyone was set, they through it into reverse and sped off in the distance. The youngest looked back, his face a mixture of fury, hatred and fear directed solely at Eleesa.

Knives could still hear the distant screams from the leader as the jeep pulled out of sight. Eleesa turned to go inside, slamming the firearm roughly against Knives chest as she did so. He took it with glee. This had been the best fun he had had since he first woke up in this abysmal place. He was really starting to like Eleesa more and more. The look on her face had pulled at something primal within him that roared to get out. If he only he wasn't (what was the word she used?) neutered, he would not hesitate to goad her into a fight. A fight between the two of them – now that was something that would be absolutely spectacular.

Knives followed Eleesa into the house and back to the kitchen where he found her wrapping a bit of cloth around her left hand.

"Well, well, it seems that I misjudged you. You are a ruthless little thing aren't you?" he teased. "For a second there I thought you might actually kill them."

"Shut it, Knives." Eleesa's voice was cold beyond imagining. Knives narrowed his eyes a bit. Something in her demeanor had changed. Something that might give him a real advantage over her. She was back to staring at some distant spot only she could see. Her brow was furrowed deep in concern and she chewed on her bottom lip in thought.

"What's the matter? Can't stand the fact that you even thought about becoming a cold-blooded killer like yours truly?" he cut back, a searing smile on his face.

Eleesa glanced up, her normal sardonic smile back in place. "Who me? 'Fraid you have me confused with your brother. I never said I would never kill. I just said I don't like to. Big difference there. It's the sporadic killing for no other reason than your own twisted liking for it that I can't stand. But for the sake of survival or defending those I care about. Well, I have to say, I'd kill in an instant… if I had too…." Eleesa let the last part hang in the air. Knives didn't have to ask what she meant by that. Her meaning had been crystal clear. If she thought him a danger to her or anyone else, she would have no compunctions about killing him, unlike Vash, who believed Knives could be reformed.

The only things that seemed to be holding Eleesa back from doing just that, were her promise to Vash and the fact that she seemed to be waiting for Knives to prove her right beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Besides," she continued. "Who says I've never killed before anyway?"

It wasn't just that she said it. It was the way she said it. Something in her tone of voice shook Knives to the deepest core. He felt his veins tighten at the sound.

"So you have killed someone, eh?" Knives forced his body to relax and a broad, hungry grin appeared on his face. It excited him. Here was a person that he could actually see by his side as he destroyed the world around him. All he had to do was convince her to become what he now believed she once had been.

"Yes, I have. So what? You seem to think it's no big deal, right? Why, does it surprise you that I could kill someone?"

Knives stopped smiling. She wasn't batting him. It had been a sincere question; as though he might see something in her that she was unable to see. If a human could be like a machine, than it would be Eleesa right at this moment. Knives couldn't explain it. She reminded him of himself. They were too much alike and he found it irritating.

"I don't know. It shouldn't surprise me. Especially not after everything I've seen, but …." Knives shrugged his shoulders. All humor and sarcasm were gone from his voice and he couldn't help but answer truthfully. He stood there not knowing how to react, but feeling instead that any action on his part would disturb some gentle fabric of reality that had been woven between the two.

It was infuriating, the effect that this woman was having on him. He seemed to be stumbling over his own thoughts and actions lately. Why should he be so damned concerned about how she would react to something? It was more then just the fact that she had a grip on his mind or that she had seen him during a weak point. He was beginning to feel more and more defenseless in her presence, and there was nothing he could do about it anymore.

"I see…."

Eleesa heard it in that silence. The final crack. Smaller then the one earlier, but still the most important. All she had to do now, was to light the dynamite. She nodded her head as she came to a decision. If there was ever going to be a good time to break Knives, now would be that time.

"Tell me, have you ever felt anyone die Knives?"

Knives was taken aback by this. 'What kind of a question was that?' he thought, though he was secretly glad for it. It put him back in familiar territory.

"Of course I have," he said dismissively. "Haven't you been paying attention? I have killed hundreds. Most with my own two hands."

"That's not what I meant." Eleesa looked over at Knives, a look of extreme curiosity crossed her face. "What I meant to say is," she walked slowly toward Knives, studying him like he had often studied Vash. "Have you ever felt the life seep out of a living creature? Have you ever tasted the fear and death in your mouth and known that it was because of you?"

"No," Knives responded. "I can't say I have. That was more along Legolis' line."

"Hmm. Well, I have," she said. "The power is … immeasurable. The feeling … indescribable." There was the same look in her eyes that she had had upstairs when Knives had first woke up. It went beyond any emotion Knives could think to put a name to.

Knives could feel the lust for blood rise back up in his throat. This was the Eleesa he had wanted to bring out. He just hadn't realized how absurdly simple it would be. IF he had known, he would have tried to arrange for some outlaw idiots to come around sooner. All the idiotic doubts that he had been having suddenly melted away in that moment as he felt the power-base shift back to him.

"Would you like to feel it?" Eleesa's lips curled into a wicked smile as she studied Knives. "I'm sure you'd absolutely love it. What could be better then to taste a person's life slip away and feed on their fear as they do so? It would be the ultimate banquet for someone like you. And I can show you what it feels like, if you want …." Eleesa stopped a mere foot away from Knives, waiting for his answer.

His blood lust, his urge for destruction started taking over all rational thought in his head as he found himself nodding yes to Eleesa. He could feel his own blood pounding through his veins in excitement. It would be the ultimate thrill. As such he ignored the small, urgent voice at the back of his mind that started screaming for attention as soon as Eleesa reached her hands out to cup his head. It was that voice, the one he would later regret not having listened to, that kept trying to tell him ... nothing is this easy and that there must be a catch.

Eleesa closed her eyes in concentration, and Knives felt a small, sudden push inside of his mind.

He found himself standing outside the wasteland that had once been the city of July. Why was he here? Oh yes. The grave. He had come to visit the grave, like he did every twenty-five years. It was gone now though. There was no way it could have survived all of this.

Anger and hatred welled up inside of him. The all too familiar sensations of loathing as he gazed around at the people that lay dying all around him. But there was something more. It was a sick feeling – a nausea that dug at his stomach. Pain, despair and death were only some of the emotions that surged through his body and mind. There were emotions of every shape and kind. They each had their own unique taste and texture, yet they each ran into each other. They were everywhere and he could feel all of them in the deepest fibers of his being. They became a thick mass that couldn't be untangled. The worst part was that he couldn't tell which ones were his and which ones belonged to the others.

The wave of emotions came in a strong, sudden torrent, pushing him and pulling him at the same time, threatening to rip him apart from the inside out. He could feel everything that the people around him were feeling. Each scream that came from their lips echoed in his mind, and each death brought with it a small part of his soul being ripped out in a final desperate act to hold on.

A pit had opened up inside of him, trying to suck what little sanity he had left inside of it. It was too much. Knives wanted to scream, to stop the pain, but he couldn't. He walked among the people in a sickening daze, jumping away anytime someone reached out for him. Touching these people only made it worse. An emotional blade, awash in the blood of others, slid slowly down through his mind and heart. Fear thrust its way up to the surface of his mind. A fear that was somehow different from all the other emotions. Why was he still standing? Why couldn't he run and leave all this behind? Knives had never before wished himself dead, but he did now.

His body shook and convulsed as tears began to flow down his face. He couldn't take it anymore. It was too overwhelming. With each step he took, he lost some vital part of himself.

Knives collapsed to the ground, screaming for release in his own thoughts, while his lips did little more than let out a whimper of despair. A gun lay in front of him. No doubt it had been dropped by one of the many looters that had come to feast on the dead carcass of the once thriving city.

His body began moving like a mannequin, devoid of any real thought, as his hand moved to cover the weapon. Picking it up he checked to see if it was loaded. Upon confirmation, he cocked the weapon and brought up to the front of his face. He opened his mouth wide and inserted the barrel so that the end rested deep against the back roof of his mouth. It would have been so easy and it would end the pain. Before he had a chance to pull the trigger, someone grabbed his hand, forcing the gun away. The gun fired harmlessly into the air and Knives turned to look into the face of the person who had stopped him.

A stocky man stood before him and seemed to be talking to him urgently, but Knives couldn't make out what was being said. The onslaught of emotions drowned out the words. Suddenly some small dam inside of him, that had been protecting him until that moment, broke and Knives screamed in new unexplainable torment.

Knives felt a rush of air enter his lungs, burning them from the inside out as he gasped for breathe. He felt as though he hadn't breathed in ages. He was once again in Eleesa's kitchen, only this time he was seated on the floor with his back against the wall. Sweat poured down his face as he tried to get his bearings. The room swayed before him in dizzying circles and fuzzy outlines. It took a while for the world to right itself to the point where he could actually make some sense of what was going on.

Eleesa sat at the table to his right, with a cup of tea held tightly in her hands. She sat totally still and unblinking, her hands and face tense, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly the memories from what he had just seen and felt came rushing back with all the emotions that he had felt. It was almost like he was experiencing the entire thing again. Which was a strange feeling indeed since they had not been his memories in the first place, but someone else's. He had only a split moment to register them before he once again became physically and emotionally incapacitated by them. The bile that had stuck in his throat before now pushed its way up with ease as Knives began retching on the floor, until he finally passed out sometime later.

Knives sat up in bed, his mouth still full of the taste of death and stomach fluids. He looked at the table that held the vase Eleesa had given to him before. A wash basin had been added to it along with some clean towels and a look down at his arms and chest showed that his bandages had been changed recently.

He shuddered at the thoughts that coalesced in his mind, as he swung his legs over the bed and stood up. His body shuddered slightly, weak from the convulsions of being sick. Anger and fear warred inside of him like they never had before. He wasn't sure what had happened exactly. He just knew that someone was going to pay. As he thought of that, the images of dying people came to mind, turning his stomach once more. His legs collapsed beneath him, landing him back on the bed.

Tears spilled from his eyes as he fought against the wave of emotions that had overcome him. A cry of pain escaped his lips. His arm lashed out across the table, smashing the water basin and vase to the floor.

Why should it hurt so badly? He pushed himself back up, determined to get downstairs and find that bitch, Eleesa. This was her all her doing. The small part of him that continued to think rationally stopped him though. If he went downstairs in this condition, he'd be playing right into her hands again. Something that he just couldn't allow himself to do.

Knives screamed in frustration. He lunged at the dresser against the wall, grabbing it and hurling it to the floor. He began kicking it, releasing all the pent up anger that seethed through his body. When there was no more to kick, he overturned the table and proceeded to smash it with his bare hands. He punched and beat it until his knuckles flowed with blood and the physical pain became almost as unbearable as the emotional.

"You should be careful," came Eleesa's voice from the door. "You're libel to open up your stitches doing that." She gazed around the room while Knives knelt, hands on the floor, trying to catch his breath and curtail the tears that continued to course down his face.

"What … did you … do to me?" he snarled.

"The same thing you did to me when you set all those SEED ships to crash into this planet all those years ago." She knelt beside him and very gently took his face in her hands, forcing him to look up at her.

"Welcome to my world," she smiled coldly. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

Knives swallowed back his sudden, unhampered fear asEleesa pulledhim up to helphim get downstairs so she could bandage his hands. As they left the room, neither noticed the single, small, un-cracked glass rose from the bottom of the vase, that lay sparkling in the midst of all the rubbish.

Envers finally brought the jalopy to a halt some fifty or so iles away.

"Damn!" he shouted. "How did that bitch do that?"

"She was good, that's how," replied Hoigt.

"Well she'll be dead soon enough," growled Kable.

"What do mean, Kable? You can't seriously be thinking of going back there can you?" Hoigt asked. "You saw her. That speed. That ain't normal."

"She shot my brother Hoigt." Kable looked over at Kreeker who lay unconscious, and Joist who was busy putting pressure on the wounds to stem the flow of blood.

"Yeah," Joist remarked calmly. "But he'll live and I doubt even he'll want you going back at this point."

"It's not his choice anymore. She pissed me off, and now it's time for her to pay."

"She'll be expecting you," Envers muttered.

"So, I'll wait awhile. I'll give her a week. By then she'll think we've all moved on and so she won't be expecting us anymore. Then it'll be easy." Kable gripped the two guns they had found in the desert, one in each hand, and glowering back at the direction from which they had come. "Until then, we need to find a place to camp so that Kreek can recovery and we can get some rest."

"We can look for one of those oasis thingies," said Hoigt. "I heard that this particular area is covered in 'em."

"Fine. Let's go."

With that, Envers started up the jeep again and they were on their way once more. Though without the urgency they had had before.