Chapter 1-Twenty Years

It was late when Stripe returned. He hadn't been arrested, but he had been held for questioning to make sure that it was in fact only Loomis who'd fired the shots. While they had quickly found the other men's weapons stashed in the upstairs bedroom, none of them had been used, so they were all released with a warning and a reminder that vigilante justice was illegal.

"Daddy!" Muffin shouted, charging her father and latching onto his leg.

"Stripe…" Trixie hugged her husband.

"So, what happened?" Trixie asked.

Stripe sighed, "We cornered him in that new neighborhood they're building off of Oak. Loomis charged into a half-built house and we followed, he shot Michael six times in the chest, the bastard fell off a balcony and down thirty feet into a concrete pool."

"So he's dead?" Muffin asked, looking up.

"No, he survived. Somehow."

"What?!" Muffin screeched, charging out of bed and standing beside her father. "He isn't dead?!"

Stripe sighed, "No, unfortunately he isn't."

Muffin could feel a temper tantrum boiling inside her. For the first time it wasn't because of the fact that she hadn't gotten something she'd wanted. This time it was because her vengeance had been denied.

"But he is going away for a long time. There's no way he won't end up in prison after everything that happened." Stripe said lamely. "C'mon, let's get you to bed; we've had enough excitement for one day. You need rest." He scooped up Muffin and carried her upstairs.

Fifteen minutes later she'd been put to bed, the small grey heeler glaring at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. "I'm going to get you Michael. Not just because you tried to hurt my mum, but because you got away with it. One day I'm gonna get you back…"

***Twenty Years Later***

A twenty-four year old female grey heeler grunted as she pushed another set. Her fur glistened with sweat as she forced herself to go further. She grit her teeth, eyes aflame as she pushed through the pain and completed the final rep.

Muffin returned the dumbbells to the rack and cracked her neck, quickly chugging half a bottled water as she flipped through her workout playlist. She had just settled on some hard rock when her phone rang, it was her sister, Socks. The grey heeler accepted the call, heading to the side of the gym. She wasn't going to stop her workout for conversation, but after being told that her grunting was 'mildly horrifying' to hear on speakerphone she'd stopped doing heavier exercises while talking on the phone. She started calf raises as her sister greeted her.

"Hey Socks." She said, lifting herself up and down on her calves.

"Hey Muffin, just wanted to call and see how stuff's been." Her sister said, a tone implying that she needed something. The college student normally was fairly reliable, but there were times when the art major had problems.

"What is it this time?" Muffin asked, a small smirk on her lips.

"Can't we at least dance around the issue a little bit?" Socks said, knowing her sister's tendency to cut through bullshit whenever possible.

"Nope. If I don't put up with that shit at work, I'm not gonna do it with you guys. I love you, but I have no time for nonsense." Muffin graduated uni a few years prior and was a marketing consultant at the same company her dad's at (he's in finance, she's in marketing). She had a reputation for being "the fixer" and taking care of problem customers.

"Fine." Socks sighed. "Look, mum and dad mentioned it to me, and I think what they're saying is right, but I wanted to be the one to call?"

"Mentioned what?"

Socks exhaled, bracing herself. "Muffin… promise me you aren't going to go and stake out the prison transfer…" Socks said, knowing her sister was crazy enough to do it.

"I'm not gonna." She replied, grumbling half to herself. "Route isn't publicly available…"

"Good. Look, I know you're like, obsessed with this guy, but it's been twenty years. I mean, fuck, mum doesn't even really care anymore and she was the one almost killed by the bloke!" Socks sighed as she leaned back at her desk. "Just let it go. Besides, he hasn't even attacked anyone all that time. Maybe he's rehabilitated; after all they just don't let people out of super-max prisons every day, y'know?"

Muffin could feel her eye twitch as she resisted the urge to punch a hole in the drywall beside her. "The only reason that bastard hasn't is because he's been waiting. He wants a real victim again. He wants someone who he can actually hurt. Someone who doesn't deserve it. He's just biding his time, and I fucking know that he's going to get loose and kill again because those idiot jacks didn't take him out when they had the fucking chance!"

"Okay… okay… I get it. Just, figured I'd at least bring it up." Socks said, knowing how it was a touchy subject for her sister.

After a pause she continued, "So what are you doing for mum and dad's thirtieth?" Socks asked.

"Wait, shit, that's next weekend isn't it?" Muffin said, mentally counting the days.

"Uh-huh."

"Can I put my name on your gift and go halvsies?"

"No." Socks flatly replied. "A handmade portrait of them that took me all summer to make, and which I've had to constantly hide so no one had seen? Yeah, that's mine."

"Damn you and your artistic abilities." Muffin joked.

"And damn your athletics." Socks quipped back. "But seriously, you've got a week. Just get them something nice, mum and dad are both really looking forward to the party before they go on their second honeymoon."

Muffin crinkled her nose, "Yeah, alright. I'll figure something out."

"Good. Now stop obsessing about this stupid transfer. Nothing's gonna happen."