A/N: I got a very interesting question from one of my reviewers; I thought I'd take a quick minute to give a very, very loose interpretation of what Riga Mortis is… Riga Mortis is what your body goes through after you've been dead for like, half an hour, to forty-five minutes (usually). If there is something in your hand, it's locked in a death grip. Your body goes so rigid, that you could put a dead man in Riga mortis, across two separated chairs, stand on his gut and it would be solid.

An hour or two after that, the body loosens up completely. Now it's just... flimsy. Decomposition takes over, bones get brittle, and you're just a rag doll... that's Post-RigaMotis. Dig:)

Thanks for the question :) Now… It's time for the slightly more relaxed chapter (or is it?). Let's get some questions answered shall we?

Chapter 7: Myriad of Pain!

Carmelita kicked open the door of the hallway that lead to Sly's cell. She paused in front of the bars, folding her arms across her chest and simply offered a grin. "Did you find him?" Called Bentley over her earpiece.

She whispered in reply, which caused Sly to glance up. "Yeah, I found him all right." She then raised the volume of her voice, addressing Sly, "So. I found you right where you belong, Cooper. Behind bars. In a bank, no less. How ironic."

"We've got a few things left unresolved," Sly said, shaking his head slowly. "I had a little time to think about it, while I was in here."

"Unresolved? Is that what you're calling it?" She said, her expression turning into a sour moue of disgust. "I'm only here because you're my bust. I don't care what you've been cleared of. I didn't say anything back in the Café, but you had no right to just leave me like that, Ringtail." Her words shifted topic from the café to the way he simply disappeared from her home, one night.

"Carmelita, please," Sly said, running his fingers back through his hair. He gave a playful grin, still pushing off the strange feelings he'd just gone through less than half an hour prior. "Let's get out of here. If you let me out, I'll stop by the Clockwerk Lab, steal some crucial parts and break everything else; we'll run for it and everything will be like it was when we were happy together."

"Bullcrap," She muttered. "You left me in the middle of the night to return to your thieving ways. You're a criminal; you'll always be a criminal Sly Cooper. I don't know what I saw in you. Whatever it was, it's gone now."

"Carmelita," Sly said, slipping off the bench and approaching the bars that separated them. He placed his paws on the metallic cylinders and simply gazed into her eyes. "I got a letter one day that told me that I wasn't safe and my future family was just as at-risk as my parents were."

"You think someone would attack a cop?" She snorted in disgust, turning away from him. It hurt to look into his eyes. She missed him too much but she was against giving in to his charm, let alone her over-emotional personal feelings.

"Listen to me," Sly said, tilting his head. "They're rebuilding Clockwerk. I came out of retirement to take care of some unfinished business. I know you don't understand but it's something I had to do, as a man; as a Cooper Male."

"You're right," She said, glancing over her shoulder. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, seeming to stare off down the hall to the left. "I don't understand. I love you, Sly Cooper. Don't you realize that? What does it take for you to comprehend," She paused then corrected herself, "…to appreciate that? You men are all alike, I swear it."

"And you think I don't?" Sly inquired in a thoughtful voice.

"Then say it," She said, turning to face him.

"Say what?" Sly asked in reply.

"See what I mean!" She exclaimed with an incredulous air. "You stay here, Ringtail. I'm going to go and find the electronic release mechanism."

"Don't you just need a key or two?" Sly asked. It seemed like everything needed a key in the past. It usually required lifting the keys off of burley guards, at that.

"I know my jail cells, Cooper," She snapped. "I can tell you the make and models of brand name jail cell construction makers. I can tell you about the base model and the flagship model of Trident Laser Bar Inc. because I have their catalogue," She explained, heading down the hallway, opposite of the way she came. "Be back soon. You won't have to worry about your Wolf friend, anymore. Later, Thievious Doofus."

Sly blinked, watching her leave. "That was unexpected," he mused aloud.

"Wasn't it now?" A voice called from behind him. Sly whirled around to see Karla standing about two meters behind him. "Surprised, Monsieur Cooper?" She added with a grin.

"Yeah, so… Not really," Replied the raccoon with a curt chuckle. "Why are you women so hard to explain things to? All I wanted was for her to understand that I had things to take care of, before I settle down. By the way, do you think this is worth something?" He asked, holding up a gold necklace.

"How did you get that off The Sire? I've never seen him without it!" She gasped in shock.

"I must have slipped it off his neck when I went for his shirt," Sly replied with a slight shrug. "I wasn't even in my right mind. I hardly remember what happened, I was so upset. But I'm not a trained thief, I'm a born thief. It just… happened. I couldn't help it, apparently."

"You're better than I realized," replied the half-breed feline vixen. "That pendant usually rests under his fur, so there's a chance he didn't even realize it was missing when he changed his shirt; he'd have stormed back down here by now," She noted in wonder. "You'd better hope he doesn't find out."

"What's it for?" Sly asked, glancing down at the gold necklace. He pondered the possibilities but an assumption would be hard when he didn't even know the lion on a personal level.

"No one knows," Karla said. "He used Clockwerk to get it from someone, right around the time he and I first met, in London."

"You're British?" Sly balked. "I can only imagine you don't care for the French, being that you're a billion years old and lived through all our skirmishes with you guys."

"And I thought that I had a perfectly deceiving French accent and a perfectly deceiving Czech dialect, as well," She pouted playfully. "Yes, I'm English. I was born as Karla Anne, the fourth great granddaughter of Anne Boleyn. Queen Elizabeth the First was not my third great grandmother. Anne Boleyn had another daughter after her assumable death, then she was cursed by the King of Spain, through the Roman Catholic Pope, so that we couldn't spawn children ever again. People thought Henry the Eighth of England hung her off of the London Bridge for either adultery or for not baring him a son, but the truth was, he hung her for being a Supernatural." She then gave a shrug, "I guess it didn't pass on to Elizabeth."

Sly stared at her for a moment, wondering if he should mention that he thought of her as condescending. "Early-to-mid 1500's, right. This makes you born right around the late 1600's, maybe early 1700's. So, why didn't the truth get out about Boleyn?" Sly wondered out loud.

"The thought of him marrying a witch makes him look like an idiot, especially several hundred years after the Inquisition supposedly wiped out every last Supernatural being out there. He had a backwards way of thinking," Karla explained. "We renamed the family to Chintzy for his chintzy attempt at killing my fourth Great Grandmother. She did die, later, however."

"And how old do you think this guy, Sire is?" Sly asked, twirling the necklace on his index finger.

"He knew Charlemagne," She replied flatly. "Is that old enough for you?"

Sly raised his brows. "That's pretty old. Charlemagne the Frank lived in the late 700's. You do realize that I don't believe either of you, right?" Cooper offered a polite smile.

"I see you know your history," She said with a playful grin.

"I'm French. We learned that in the schooling provided by the orphanage," Sly said with snappy, upbeat voice. His anger was gone. He was calm, cool and collected, again. "Besides, you really learn a lot about History when you spend as much time as I do in swank museums."

"She won't be able to free you," Karla said, glancing at her tacky red-lacquered nails, which she curled into her palm. Cooper smirked at her sudden change of topic.

Sly gave a casual sort of lopsided grin and with a hint of sarcasm, he playfully mused, "She won't be able to come here without being killed. She won't be able to kill Donovan; she won't be able to free Sly Cooper. Did I leave anything out?"

"She was right, it's electronic," Karla remarked. "She's no hacker, though. It would take someone with a natural talent for computer hacking to figure out the code to the computer controlled lock."

"She'll figure something out," Sly said.

Karla shook her head. She glanced left to right then giggled with glee, telling Sly, "You have an awful lot of stock in that 'faith' of yours. Considering she's never caught you; I would question just how good your vixen really is. I've only seen her bust major criminals that you've already beaten."

"Know why you're not going to get away with running the show and making Clockwerk your pawn?" Sly said, walking back towards his cheap little bench on the side of the wall.

"Enlighten me," Karla moaned dramatically. She put the back side of her right paw over her forehead.

"Because you don't believe in anything but your ego, babe." Sly gave her a wink then added, "Once Sire is out of the picture, Clockwerk is going to want to run the show and Donovan is dead. That leaves you with a smart geek who built a metal owl out of a real one. So much for your invincible circle of power players, Karla. It's crumbling around you."

"Who says' we're all omnipotent? The strong survive, the weak shall parish," The half-breed mused.

Sly shrugged with his infamous dashing grin and rebutted, "Then it looks like you're all a bunch of over-celebrated weenies."

"You've just become boring," Chintzy said, immediately disappearing. Sly gave a smile, placing his paws behind his head. He leaned back on the bench quietly. Now to relax until Carmelita could come back.

Carmelita approached the control panel of the jail lock release terminal, standing adjacently to the machine. "Looks like it's locked out and I'll need a pass code. You ready to go to work, Tortoise?" She said, placing a paw to her ear.

"Always," Replied Bentley over the radio in his usual nasal voice. "Do me a favor, Carmelita. Take your radio earpiece out of your ear and place the Binoc-u-com against the terminal controls, please?"

Carmelita did so and waited, holding the transceiver against the computer terminal. After a few short moments, a message come up on the computer screen that read, "802.11G network communication established. Bluetooth technology drivers installed. New Device driver found: Binoc-u-Com 1100 Version 1.26D." The message disappeared, followed by, "Network firewall disabled. Connection to host server established. Connection to Bentley-Luvs-UR-PC(dot)net established. Connection link signal: 100." To Carmelita's amusement, the messages continued to pop up and disappear, indicating Bentley's status.

Another message displayed, citing, "Download in progress: GetBENT(ley)Trojan. Zip." A moment later, "Download Completed. Unzipping files, extracting executable files. Rewriting to system registry, stand by." A small green light on the side of the computer terminal began to flash for a moment, then it went to a solid green-lit status. Carmelita smiled. The light indicated the lock was open on the cell. She took the Binoc-u-com off the terminal, shoved it into her pocket and pushed the earpiece back into her ear.

"What was the point of taking out my earpiece?" She asked, heading back towards the hallway where she left Sly.

"Trust me," Bentley chuckled slightly, sounding as if he had a head cold, as normal, "You wouldn't want to have heard the data transfer noise. It's an annoying sound, especially right in your ear. Hurry and get Sly out of that cell… WAIT!"

"Pardon?" The Inspector replied with a blink.

"I see that Lion guy coming back down the hallway on the security camera! Stay put. You're safe on the other side of the door, he doesn't know you're there," Bentley exclaimed.

The locking mechanism was so quiet that Sly never knew it had become unlocked. Familiar footsteps caused a shutter to run down his spine. The Sire was returning. Cooper stashed the gold necklace into his sleeve and grinded his teeth together, narrowing his eyes. The delicate faced feline returned to the hallway, facing Sly with a smile. He was wearing a different shirt, now.

"I've misjudged the both of you," Sire said with a shake of his head. "Your little friend was the target to begin with, because we know she destroyed the Hate Chip in the first place. I didn't see her as quite a capable foe but I saw the whole thing on our surveillance footage. She's murdered Donovan Loupe. Since I've become the Secretariat General of Interpol, I can promise you that this rogue cop will be tried as a murderer and put in jail accordingly. Ironic, no?"

On the other side of the door, Carmelita was sweating bullets. She balled her paws into fists, but stayed on the other side of the door, as instructed. Sly approached the cell bars, folding his arms. Before he could get out a witty comment, Sire engaged his powerful mind altering abilities. The aura around his body became visible to Sly, who struggled, falling slowly to his knees.

"How is it, you have the ability to struggle against my abilities?" Sire said, tilting his head. The thick mane that framed his effeminate facial features shifted, pooling on his right shoulder from the way he moved his head; gaze narrowing, looking at Sly with disgust. "It seems like you're stronger than the last time, which was twice the ability you portrayed on our first visit. First blinking, then going psycho, and now I can't even get you to lie down?"

"Fff-… Nggh.. F-f-fiiight… m…me," Sly struggled to say.

"Fight you?" The lion quipped. "I don't fight, you half-wit! I make my enemies destroy themselves. I can't seem to locate Karla; no matter, I'll kill you myself," Sire said, shaking his head. "Here you go," He said, passing a double-shot handgun through the bars. "Take this and place it to your head. There's a bullet for each of you, I promise."

Much to Sly's dismay, his right paw extended, taking the gun. His paw lifted, the barrel brushed the side of his head, half buried into the fur, above his right temple. His paw was shaking violently, his nerves tense and his body quivering. He struggled against the mental powers used on him, but he wasn't strong enough to pull his paw away from his head.

"You want to shoot me, but you can't. Your body submits to me… The trick is," Sire chuckled, "Making you pull the trigger, when you're the only one I know who has the ability to fight my abilities. It'll be a treat… a personal delight, to make you end your life."

Just then, the door at the end of the hall swung open and Carmelita stormed in. She rushed towards the Sire, being as emotional and instinctual as she was, handing her conscious thought over to her inner animal. She couldn't let Sly die. "NO one hurts Sly Cooper, except ME!" She cried, trying to lunge at the lion. She only got as far as several feet into the hallway before the power of his will-bending abilities hit her with full force.

The vixen stopped in her tracks, struggling to go further. Her body betrayed her and she couldn't do anything more than stand there. Sire smiled. "Sly, throw the weapon to Inspector Fox. Let's play a game of ring-around-the-roulette. After all, I had forgotten my manors: Ladies first, correct?"

Sly blinked, simply watching his right paw reaching through the bars. He couldn't even feel his body moving like this. It was like watching his numb arm, in third person. The raccoon lobbed the weapon towards Carmelita, who caught it, placing it against her own head now. Cooper's heart began to race.

Sly's eyes widened slightly. "…no," he whimpered softly. Sire augmented his supernatural mien a thousandfold. Sire, the attractive lion, became paralyzingly beautiful. His abilities inspired respect, devotion, fear… all at once. His potent mystique held Carmelita under his thrall.

"Yes," Sire snapped in reply to Sly's soft plea. "Now, Inspector Fox, take your thumb and cock the hammer, my dear." The emotional vixen attempted to struggle against his willpower-dominating feats but it was a fruitless gesture. The padded thumb of her right paw found the cold metal hammer and drew it back until it clicked into the locked position.

"Any last words to your friend, Mister Cooper?" Sire asked; a soft, throaty growl rolled at the back of his gullet. He eased up on his majestic presence, so that Sly could speak. His powers could cow the influential and make malleable those who were the fortuitous, venerable warriors. Even Sly could show acquiescence under the power of Sire's natural ability of charisma and intimidation.

"I love you, too, Carmelita," Sly said. His eyes burned with tears and his voice was full of conviction. He couldn't lose her. He only left her because of that stark realization that taking down unfinished business meant securing their possible future together. It may have been true that he rarely, if ever, said that he loved her but the fact of the matter was he felt it.

Once his words were spoken, Sire resumed the ultimate power of esoteric awe. His sublime magnetism was amplified; however, the smitten Sly Cooper did not lose his sense of self-preservation. Carmelita, new to this shocking power, was locked under the powerful entrancement. Sire narrowed his eyes at Sly, angered by the raccoon's resistance of preternatural will.

The Lion narrowed his eyes, looking from Cooper back to the trembling Inspector, whose body quivered under the stress of trying to force the gun away from her own head. "Now, you've killed my personal Champion. You've managed to defeat the Black Metamorphosis, my personal body guard. I'm not sure how," Sire told Carmelita, "He's immune to bullets; they pass through him when he shifts into his tenebrous form. Most people are filled with debilitating terror when they witness his abilities. So, while you impress me, you must be punished," He explained to her.

Sly's enduring devotion to Carmelita was stronger than Sire's perversion of supernatural dominance. The raccoon gripped the cell bars, his mind racing, rage filling his heart once more. His emotions were bubbling, transmuting his worry and agony into frenzy. A guttural scream ripped from the gray-furred thief's muzzle and he pulled his paws in opposite directions. Little did the lion realize, the lock had been released on the gate and the bars slid apart, releasing Sly from his cage!

The mesmerized gaze of the Vixen was fixed upon Sire. Sly was conversant to his bizarre, hypnotic abilities. With finesse, Cooper dashed forward, leaping through the air, just as Sire used emphasis on his next command, shouting for her to pull the trigger, turning his head at the last moment, only to see Sly in mid lunge.

The gun fired. It was a command to directly go against her innate, intrinsic nature to survive and yet she complied with the order. Sly's paws were out before him, connecting with Carmelita's torso, just as the bullet ripped from the barrel. The moment lasted forever. His palms were stretched outward, his fingers spread apart, connecting with her gut. The cacophony of sound was all consuming. Immediately following, there was perfect silence. The room seemed to stop. Every heart beat in the span of the corridor came to a momentary halt. For Sly, it was the blast heard around the world, for this moment of time consumed his entire universe.

Somewhere in the world, a second-hand clicked forward and time began again. Carmelita's body, standing off balance, was thrown back with the transfer of translational kinetic energy. The scalar quantity of power was shifted into the vixen's furry form. Her arms flailed up as the blast occurred. She toppled back, crashing to the floor. A pool of blood began to collect upon the hallway carpet, soaking it a rush of garnet liquid.

The claret splashed across the ground. Sly stood up, gawking at her crumpled form, seeing the pool of ruby behind her ear. In that moment, he lost all means of inhibition. The raccoon whirled around to face Sire. Their gaze locked and at that moment the Lion could have sworn he could see a sunswept glow inside Cooper's angry orbs. Sly was exasperated.

He took Sire by the throat with both paws. The forcefulness of his grasp caused the necklace he'd stolen earlier, to slip from his sweeter sleeve, half resting upon the top of his paw. Sire's eyes widened in disbelief, seeing the object.

"You fool! No wonder you had the ability to fight my powers, you stole the necklace of Will!" He exclaimed. The words went on deaf ears. Sly threw the lion into the bookshelf against the wall. Cooper dashed forward, snatching his favored cane from the hooks next to the shelf, where it hung from the wall.

He quickly snatched Sire back with the hook, drawing the lion back to his feet, so that the two were eye to eye again. "Your days of malevolent monarchy are over," Sly said with an eerie calm in his voice. The Thievious protagonist used his cane to lift the lion by the belt, throwing his adversary further down the hall. He dashed forward leaping through the air, to pounce the king of beasts when something, out of nowhere, swatted the raccoon back down the hallway.

Sly rolled to a stop, laying besides Carmelita. A prehensile tentacle emerged from a patch of dim lighting. The battered being who invoked the refined, well-controlled darkness, stepped into the room, narrowing his eyes. The lion lay still; Carmelita was motionless.

"Stay out of my way," Sly said, turning his sights upon Sire once more. Donovan shook his head slowly, then lifted his paws. He called upon his inner darkness and infused himself with it. His body began a twisted metamorphosis, becoming a monstrous hybrid of matter and shadow. His form became mottled with spots of tenebrous shade and wispy tentacles, which extruded from his torso and abdomen. His newly demonic appearance bubbled to the surface. Donovan's head appeared to fade away into nothingness, swathed in otherworldly darkness. The combined wriggling tentacles writhing from his body created an unsettling sight.

Sly swallowed, building up his courage before lunging into full-on paw-to-paw combat. He swung his cane out, but it wrapped around one of the shadowy arms that emanated from the monstrous freak. With a single swat, Sly was thrown to the wall, cane and all.

Cooper made a quick rebound, dashing back into the fight. The raccoon lifted his cane to the air, swinging it at Donovan's shadowy-morphed form. The wolf's mastery of darkness was so extensive that he physically became darkness. Sly passed through it, allowing the blood-lusting Loupe to slither forward, as an amoeboid patch of shade.

"Your boyish concupiscence for Inspector Fox has been cured; you should thank us, you lascivious raccoon!" Donovan chided in a relaxed tone.

"You'll both die for even touching her!" Cooper rebuked quickly.

Sly turned about, swinging his cane through the center of the tar-like shadow, but it did no harm. The transformation allowed Donovan to become invulnerable to physical attack. He oozed over Sly's body, enveloping the raccoon. The shroud of viscous raven cloud lifted Sly's body. It was an unnerving experience. All light within was obscured. Sound became muddled and warped. Everything the raccoon heard outside the shroud of night was distorted. His body, immersed in pitch, was unable to breathe; smothered by the murk, Sly grew agitated. He could feel himself drowning in the tarry mass; he lost all sense of indistinguishability.

Donovan, in this shadowy form, dripped upwards until he was upon the ceiling. The unholy shadow began to evaporate its own state of evanescence, releasing Sly so that he fell to the ground. The raccoon landed upon his back and the wind was knocked from his lungs, leaving him to gasp for air. Sly rolled over, onto his stomach, to instinctively protect his throat and face, in this state of temporary immobilization.

The wolf's vicissitude had returned him to his monstrous form, lashing out with ebon tendrils, which sought to eviscerate the master thief. A gunshot was heard in reply. The dissonance of chaotic sound stood alone for a moment. Simultaneous to the connection of the scythe-like shadow extension against Sly's body, a bullet slammed into Donovan's forehead, between his eyes.

It all happened in slow-motion and yet it all transpired in an instant. Sly's body was slashed, thrown clear across the hall and yet Donovan was thrown back by the force of the bullet upon his forehead. Both men came crashing to the ground in unison. Carmelita picked herself up and dashed over to Sly's motionless figure.

Blood ran down the side of her head, pouring out of the fresh hole at the tip of her ear, adjacent to a golden hoop. Hot tears streamed down her face and in that moment, every nightmare she'd ever experienced came to haunt her, all at once. They flashed before her eyes, torturing her. She knelt besides him, drawing his head into her lap, cradling him.

She begged for his life. She yearned for him and ached like no other, in that instant. This time, she did try to save him. Her nightmares became a phantom of reality. "Don't be dead," She whispered into his ear. "Don't leave," She pleaded. "Bentley?" Silence. "Sly?" Silence. She was consumed by sorrow, fear and heart break. The lamenting vixen closed her eyes, choking tears out of those soft amber orbs. They ran down her furry cheeks, matting them in a haphazard sort of disarrayed mess.

Carmelita clung to him. She experienced exquisite suffering. Her eyes were swollen, blinding her vision with hot liquid that burned down the side of her muzzle. Encroaching darkness was the result of her dirge. She wasn't sure if she should pray in hope or cry a requiem in mourning.

'Me, he did it for me,' her mind repeated, and her chest twisted in knots when she realized just how lonely she felt. Carmelita pulled Sly further into her lap, stroking the back of his neck. Regret had nested inside of her. Was Sly Cooper's demise really true? She ran her fingers down the back of his neck, feeling where his sweeter was torn. Ragged flesh and wet meat touched her finger and her heart seemed to stop.

A whimper was issued; the only sound in the room. The world stood still.

A/N: NOW we see some lamenting. Is Sly really dead? Do I have the balls to kill off a main, Gaul character? C'mon now… logic, my lovelies! So, I guess Donovan wasn't paying attention to Carmelita, while fighting Sly, so he got blasted… just like Carmelita's gun went off and clipped her ear, when Sly bowled her over… Yeah, she's not going to be able to hear out of it right away… her eardrum won't be blown… It's a good thing she had that earpiece pushed down in her ear… that probably reflected a lot of the sound. But why isn't Bentley replying? Well c'mon… a gun was fired into her earpiece…. Back at the base, his speakers probably blew out, hehe. Well, Sire's unconscious. Looks like Sly happened to lift the necklace that gave it's user an iron will, which Sire kept on himself, so that it wouldn't be used against him. Who else could have pinched the Pendant of Will? ;) Now, laying at the brink of death, will that necklace save Sly? Will it give him the iron will to not only defy Sire, but stare Death in the face and live to tell? Where the heck is Karla at, while all this is going on? What about Steven the Skunk? Is Clockwerk finished yet? WHO KNOWS! Find out all these answers and more… when I post the last chapter of ACT2, Same Sly Time! Same Sly Channel! Lemmie know how this chapter makes you guys feel!

Oh, and incidentally, are/is my descriptions/vocabulary over the top? Usually I try to tone it down and be a bit considerate because being over the top with one's descriptions can really slow down the reader's rhythmic flow of the story. I think I was just in a rush to post tonight and got lazy about my edits. I dunno, maybe I was in a strange mood, who knows… Love you guys:)

-Kit