When Donovan threw her against the oak tree, Pamela giggled insanely, whipping her head about, her crimsonness flailing about wildly. The pain in her back meant nothing. She stared up at the titan of a man and silently giggled and giggled… suddenly the entire world was hilarious.

"Why did you have to come back into my life, Isley?" Donovan breathed, kneeling down and waving the switchblade before her face. "Why did you have to come back and touch me? Why did you have to bother me? You were old dirt… I didn't miss you."

"Why not?" Pamela leaned back against the three and loved the tree, needed the tree and wanted the tree… "Couldn't bear the guilt? Couldn't bear the discomfort of looking upon one of your victims…?"

Victims. It suddenly became evident to her just how much she adored that word…at this very moment, anyway. Especially two victims! Rosa was standing behind Donovan, fuming… and Pamela saw that she was holding a very thick stick in hand. No, not a stick, a brach. Freshly torn off, too, by the looks of the end… That bitch tore one of its arms off! Savage hatred went through her body at once. She must kill! She must scratch out eyes!

Donovan smiled. "Victims? Guilt? What are you on about?" he asked softly. And then his fierce hand struck out and slammed her against the tree. She cried out in pain. The bark of the tree cut into her skin so mercilessly. Mother was displeased with her, it seemed. Perhaps she had gone about approaching Donovan in the wrong manner! Perhaps if she had stalked him out of the park rather than through it!

"Are we going to blacken her?" Rosa asked quietly, visibly nervous. Donovan nodded.

"I spent months trying to wash your taste out of my mouth," he spat in Pamela's face. "I spent months trying to wash the images out of my mind! What we did to you! What we did afterwards! Do you know how many hits that video's gotten!? Do you know how popular 'Virginia Vixen' really is!? A single frame in time and the entirety of a schism to follow!"

Pamela's eyebrows raised. How refined…

"Donovan…" Rosa was sounding impatient and her anxiety was all too clear.

"In a moment," he snapped, not taking his gaze off of his redheaded prey. "Dearest Pamela Isley… I tried to scrub every second of that night away. I tried to show it that I was stronger, that I was better… And your fucking face keeps popping up in my head! Same with Archie. He complained all the time, even when he thought no one could hear him complaining! And when he started talking about it… you started haunting me too! It was contagious! You're like a disease!"

"You are aware," Pamela said quietly, coolly, "that I was raped by that I was raped by you?"

"Oh, yeah, sure… you're the victim, Pamela. You're the victim, you're the victim… How many nightmares have you had since it happened?" His voice shook as he asked. He sounded deadly serious about this question. Pamela blinked. He shook her fiercely, violently, and spat, "Tell me!"

"Nightmares?" she breathed back at him, smiling a small smile now. "I became my nightmares…" Donovan blinked, frowning. What the hell did that mean!? Pamela shrugged. She continued with, "I suppose it doesn't matter… I took action, Donovan… as you took action that night. As Otto took action. As Archie took action. You helped me, all three of you… you opened my eyes to possibilities I had never been brave enough to acknowledge."

"I never wanted to see you again!" he hissed. "It took me forever to block you out! Why the hell did you come back for me!?"

"To maim you," she answered, so simply. "To beat on you, claw at you, and eventually poison you to death. To watch your choking and gagging on death, to take your body back to my home and plaaaaaayy with it…" She giggled again after saying all of this. His expression was one of true horror. He looked as if he were trying to figure out whether she actually meant any of this or not. She had to admit, she had given an over-the-top performance, but that was part of this…new sense of fun she had. It made her feel… villainous.

There's that word again. Villainous. The ship's long since sailed on that one, sweetheart.

Rosa stepped forward. "I'm starting."

Donovan held up his free hand, not taking his blade away from Pamela. "Wait," he said. He looked back at Pamela, his eyes deep and searching. There was something in them, those dark, woody spheres, that was almost pleading. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Pamela's heart leapt. Then, it froze. Donovan spat at the ground, the knife trembling. His teeth were gritted in rage and discomfort. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

Pamela found her voice. "Are you really?"

"Yes, damn it! Yes I'm sorry! How could I not be!? How the living hell could I not be!? Archie told me… he told me that he wanted to kill himself, that he wanted to be raped a thousand times if it meant taking it back, what we did to you. He said that! And you know what? I started thinking the same fucking thing! Why!? Why do I care!? You were my property that night! Why the hell do I care!?" His hand slipped as he shook, and suddenly Pamela screamed. His blade actually cut into her neck! Not deep enough to do any real damage, but blood was trickling nonetheless. Donovan, however, had not noticed this at all. "Why!? Why, why, why!? I was doing fine for so long! I thought I'd gotten you out of my head!"

Pamela, breathing heavily, began to laugh quietly and shook her head. "I'm toxic to the mind…to the body…to the spirit. My effects are clear… I'm just too desirable to push out of the mind…"

Whack! This time Pamela's scream shook the trees, and birds were flying in every direction in terrified alarm. Rosa had stepped forward and whapped her across the head with her branch. Bruised, throbbing and bloodied from the nose now, Pamela hit the ground. Rosa stood over her, holding the branch like a sword, shaking her own head.

"Why are we drawing this out?" she asked Donovan quietly, and she kicked, hard, a fierce strike into Pamela's shin. Again and again she struck, Donovan watching with wide-eyed horror. Rosa struck Pamela with the branch many, many times, Pamela crying and pleading…

She was in so much pain and could not defend herself. Her, Poison Ivy, the woman who had controlled men and women alike for so very long with inhuman influence… she was now the property of this branch, and this fierce woman. Every time she was hit, she sunk down just a little more into the dark void that had become her soul over the past year. She clawed down, deep into Mother Earth's dimension, trying to become one with the dirt, trying to transcend and become nature itself! I have to escape! I have to escape the human skin! No more skin, no more pain, no more skin, no more pain!

"That's enough," Donovan cried out. "This is my part, Rosa! This is mine!"

Rosa stopped her relentless beating of Pamela, and turned to face Donovan. The woman had a deadly look in her eyes. "Then do something," she demanded of him, prodding the beaten, pathetic, half-conscious Pamela Isley with the branch. "If you want her pushed out of your head, then do something now. Don't bother bringing her out here if you're not going to act!"

Donovan stepped forward and yanked the branch out of her hand, so swiftly and so firmly. Rosa froze on the spot, her eyes wide. He had moved so fast. He held the thick branch before her, placing the end of it against her throat. His eyes… from what Pamela could make out through her blurring vision, were fiery.

She forgave him in that instant.

"You're out of control," he whispered, stepping towards Rosa… and Rosa backed away, terrified. "You're out of control and you know it."

"I'm just doing what you should do," Rosa shot back. She looked down and saw Pamela trying to crawl away… and immediately her kick into the back of Pamela's head brought the woman into an impossible state of dis-there. Pamela could only stew upon the ground, her lids heavy, her body burning… But Donovan was moving.

Rosa never saw it coming. The branch swung through the air, with the speed and magnificence of lightning, and broke in half across the woman's temple. Rosa's eyes went wide, and she only managed to croak out one sound of solitary surprise: "Oh…" That little "Oh" meant the world in that moment, a firm exploration of the concept of the world. Donovan released the branch… but it stayed securely locked away within Rosa's head. He had struck her with a particularly sharp edge of the blunt. It was quite beautifully impaled within her temple, for a moment, Rosa swayed on the spot, not looking quite sure that she were aware of her predicament for the most momentary of times… and then she felt the blood trickling down her head, and this triggered the collapse.

She went down into a crumpled mess beside Pamela's boot, erupting into a small, almost invisible seizure before becoming still. Donovan fell down beside her, looking lost in the moment, unsure of his current position, paled considerably and shaking. Trembling hands touched a still, still face. He made a noise like a howling dog, and fell away from Rosa, hyperventilating.

"I-I-I…"

"Y-you did…beautifully…" came the hoarse whisper of Pamela Isley. Donovan looked at her crazily. Pamela was shifting about on the ground, staring at Rosa's body with reverence. "Y-you… saved me…"

"No! I did not save you!" He kicked away and jumped to a standing position, savage as he stood over her and shook his head. "She…she had no right to-to… GOD!" He kicked a pile of leaves and sent them cascading all over Rosa's dear, staring eyes. "What did you do to me!?" he roared at Pamela, threatening to break free of his skin and become something of terror and hatred, something inhuman. His eyes bulged madly. The titan descended.

Pamela could no longer scream. She was suddenly aware of being drug across the forest floor, past Rosa's body and into the thickness of a great brush. Donovan was throwing her into the thick green…

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," he whispered savagely as he crawled through the green for her. "I haven't been able to stop…"

No… get away…get away from me now… But he refused to obey her thoughts.

He was on top of her in a moment… and she had no strength to fight him off.

"We tried so hard," he whispered, "to get you out of our heads, all of us. Me. Archie. Otto. And then Archie went missing. No one knows where he went, Isley… I don't want to end up like that… He let the thoughts of you destroy him! He let them drive him away into the unknown! Not me! Not me!" His knife sailed, and her shirt was torn. "What we did that night, we were stupid! We were wrong! But Isley… I have the solution. I have the means to make things right again…"

"B-by what… h-how…" Pamela tried, one last time, to fight back, and failed at the thought process.

"I'll d-do it again… you owe me that much, Isley! You made me kill Rosa… made me kill Rosa…

I didn't make you do anything! She tried to voice this truth aloud, tried to force him to hear the words and acknowledge their meaning-

Nothing came. Donovan shook his head, his eyes closing for a second. "She was the new girl," he whispered. His eyes snapped open. There was something inhuman within them, something like an animal. "She was the new girl. She'd just come in with the shipments last month…" He was crying now. Tears dripped down onto Pamela's face. "Got her and a few others from the boats. They were going to go far. They had potential. Otto had it all set up…"

Some jolt of strength returned to Pamela at the mention of Otto's name. Her vision cleared a little. Donovan's torn face was all too evident. "He… he was going to make me his business partner, once I broke in a few of the new girls. We were going to go around the world… collecting them… selling them… They were under the impression that they were being given modelling opportunities." He laughed nervously…anxiously… Pamela could only stare at the man. "Rosa, she… she was special. She knew about the operation, knew about the ploy… she was going to help us collect others around Gotham, help us package them and ship them…" His head hung low, and he cried even harder. "It was all going so good…"

Pamela felt sick now. Trafficking! The bastard was talking about trafficking!

"We…we got the idea from you, you know." He grinned at her. "From you! When we realized the fame and results that could be obtained from stupid, naïve bitches like you, we knew we had what it took in this line of work. You were our beta product, Miss Virginia. A sample. People dug it, too… You inspired us, Pamela!"

You're sick! YOU'RE BEYOND SICK!

"You inspired us!" he insisted madly. "Showed us the way, showed us the truth about ourselves! You…you're my world, Pamela…my life…"

He's talking like he's under the influence of the pheromones! But I haven't doused him! He's… he's actually been obsessed with me!

"I thought so many times of coming back for you," he whispered, his lips inches from hers. "I thought so many times about returning to you… Taking you again… selling you, even…"

She was going to throw up, any minute now…

"But… but you just had to go to the police. Well, the police belong to the rich and powerful, Pamela. And the Batman… he doesn't care about your kind. No one in Gotham cares… but you still had to go to them. I couldn't risk it, not this soon… I was waiting for this. I was waiting for a chance!"

You're not going to take me… you're not!

Donovan sighed, chuckling. He looked over at Rosa's body. "Ah, fuck… what a predicament. She was a great fighter, a thug off the streets from Paris. She had so much potential. I wanted to see how far she'd go, once we sold her to the Japanese waiting for us in Ibaraki… But you had to show up. You had to remind me…"

Mother Earth… send me help now… send me help now…

"But you're all alone here, Pamela Isley," he whispered, kissing her again. "You're mine. Rosa's gone now… thanks to you… so you're going to take her place. I have an order for three girls to be delivered to the Japanese in month. Otto's finalizing the deal now. Since you killed Rosa-"

I DIDN'T KILL HER!

"you'll be taking her place… I'm going to give you to the Japanese. What they do with you after that is not my concern… I'll finally be rid of you… I'll be free of you…" He sounded desperate. And his grin that came now was beyond twisted.

Donovan giggled. He was quite mad.

"If only you'd stayed away… if only…"

If only I had…. If only I had…

"Before I give you to the Japanese, though—I need to make sure you're ready. I need to test the product I'm trying to sale."

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

"And Otto will be happy to see you again, Pamela. So happy…"

NO! NO!

"Hold still."

And for the second time in Pamela Isley's life, Donovan Ventimago violated the bonds of consensual sanctuary. And this time, his knife worked with him.

Pamela Isley blacked out. It was too much.

It was all too much, her excitement. Wesker had permitted her into new quarters. The garden was magnificently grown, a flourishing rainforest within a massive greenhouse enclosure, abundant with thriving flora. She walked nude and free through the garden, calling the plants to her as she walked, and came they did, entwining her limbs and hair and saturating her in pollen. She was in a place that was right¸ a place that belonged to her!

She walked across a path of lily pads that decorated a small, shallow lagoon, finding a private grove where Rionus flowers and hemlock flourished. Poison. Perfect. Pamela stretched out across this throne of flowers and moaned, aroused by the life that thrived around her. These flowers were all that mattered in the whole wide world. Her work on Prometheus finished, and with Wesker finalizing the presentations to the general public, Pamela was given permission to stay in this place until the time came to transfer to Woodrue's facility for the inevitable meeting with Lasetta the goddess.

As she lay across the flora, wrapping herself in the vines and leaves, she kicked her legs into the air, calling forth the plants from all around. They came, vines and ivy, flowers and grass… they all came to her when she called, and they began to cocoon her body, enveloping her into an eternity…

Life is fine now. We went through hell. But now we're thriving.

Life was hell throughout those terrible moments. True hell. Death was the only state of being.

There were countless cuts decorating her body. Her blood was running down her chest, breasts, arms and legs… her clothing was thrown about the forest floor… she lay naked, violated, and still. So very still…

Donovan was still at it, in control and in total power over her soul. She was his property. She may very well die soon, at any moment…

And still, she lay so still. Stiller than still. She was stone. She was rock. She was petrification.

But I'm still alive…

Not for long.

I can escape this…

Sure you can.

She must.

Donovan was crying the entire time. Crying! His tears mixed with her blood. He had forgotten all about Rosa's corpse lying nearby, now the attraction of the local bugs. The sun was reaching its closing time. Already it had begun to drop and the evening had begun to creep in. Pamela, whatever part of her was still aware of the existence around her, feared that Donovan may not stop torturing her…raping her…until she had expired.

And all the while, he kept pleading with some invisible force, "All mine…you're all mine… you're mine…"

And then other times he would say, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… forgive me… please Pamela forgive me…" It was these times when he would thrust hardest, cut deepest! Sometimes, she found a small whimper, at one point a hoarse, whispery scream. But she was so weak and so stone-like. She wished she would die. She wanted to die. She must die.

"You'll be fine," he whispered pleadingly to her, his shaking hand cutting into her flesh with the switchblade. He just made random cuts here and there, each time sending agony through Pamela's body… "I promise. They'll take care of you. Easy peasy, Japanesey…"

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy…

"Right as rain…right as rain…"

Such a man is quite insane…

"I love you, Pamela. I love you…"

So it's true…so it's true…

Something quivered in the bushes behind Donovan, and he glanced over his shoulder. It only happened for a second, before quietly dissipating into total silence again. He blinked. Animals. He turned his attention back to her.

"Do you understand obsession?" he asked Pamela, cutting into his own skin with the blade. He grimaced in pain, grunting loudly, and managed a fine red line down his forearm. He giggled again. "Do you understand love, Pamela?"

She shifted her head ever so slightly. It was all that she could do to manage a nod. Oh how weak she was…

"You never forget your first love." He forced another kiss upon her, drinking her in. Drinking her very soul!

Something moved about in the trees above. Leaves fluttered down to them both. Donovan was so intent upon kissing Pamela that he noticed nothing… but oh how she saw! She saw the dark shadow sitting there, hidden within the leaves. It crouched down low, staring…staring at them both… She could not make out what she was looking at. She could not make out anything in the world. Some shadowy form that meant nothing, did nothing but stare and stare and stare…

Donovan pulled away, breathing hard. His face was red, his eyes blotchy.

"Please forgive me…" he whispered, stroking her cheek. "Be mine… I can h-hide you… I can hide you, yes… Keep you for myself…"

And Pamela finally, finally found some semblance of strength. That was the final straw. She would go out defying him. Taking all of her energy and forcing it to her mouth, she managed to force out, "Drop dead!" It took a lot from her to say it. Donovan's head dropped… and that was when the dark shadow descended.

Pamela watched the creature falling through the air, and along with it, a very long, thick vine… The figure landed behind Donovan, with beautiful, cat-like grace. For a wild, crazy moment, an insane one to be sure, Pamela thought she was seeing Valere Frazeer, the woman from the circus who had performed such divine acrobatic feats… but then she saw the person stand up, and realized that this was an entirely different person—but still a woman.

Donovan noticed Pamela's wide-eyed gaze, and he quickly looked around. Both he and his victim went numb as they beheld the person before them.

It was Alissa! Alissa Jagner, standing tall and confident, a dark, cold expression upon her beautifully restored features. She had been given a new sort of wardrobe, too. It was something like a leotard, but it was made from many, many leaves of Hedera canariensis…ivy leaves. A dark green dance skirt hid her hips. Long, green rubber gloves and dark green rubber boots were positioned in a combat stance. She was the most beautiful thing Pamela had ever witnessed. Alissa's eyes were hidden behind a leafy, dark green masquerade mask. Her lips were painted lime.

She held up a single hand, giving Donovan a brief, half-assed gesture that was something like a wave, her expression still so very, very icy.

"I've seen enough," she whispered, shaking her head. She gripped tightly the long vine that she held in her hand. There was something about that vine that was…off. It looked sleek and very thick, almost glistening with some sort of a glossiness… Donovan held the knife in front of him, breathing hard.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Alissa looked from the switchblade in his hand to his long, erect penis, still dripping with the lubrication of his most recent violation of a woman's body. Alissa's expression went from icy to deathly with the shadow that overtook her in that moment.

"You're dead," she whispered.

Pamela summoned up her strength enough to cry out, "A-Al-isss-a…."

Alissa nodded. "Hold on, Ivy. Toxica is here." And Alissa, or…Toxica…? moved forward at once. Her high kick was true, knocking Donovan's arm upward. Donovan cried out, but Alissa had slipped forward, swiftly, and her gloved hand was wrapping around his knife hand. She disarmed him so easily through his shock, shaking her head as they stood nose to nose.

"You shouldn't be here," Donovan moaned. Alissa looked down, right at the man's privates… and the knife went down with her gaze.

Donovan's scream was an unholy, beautiful sound. Birds and animals took off, desperate to escape such a noise and the agony that came with it. Half of his shaft dropped down onto the ground. The man froze on the spot, staring in silent disbelief at his severed manhood… and then Alissa struck again. His testicles went next. Blood pulsed out of his destroyed genitals, and Alissa grinned. She took Donovan by the throat with her free hand and stabbed him cleanly in the gut. He moaned, his lips trembling, his eyes wide with disbelief and fear.

He fell to his knees, staring up at Alissa, lost in another dimension… and that was when she walked around him, the vine she had brought with her in hand, and promptly began to strangle him, noosing him tightly with the thing. He choked and gagged, unable to fight against her, still caught in the shock as he stared down at his severed pieces, and the knife that bled him from the stomach, still impaling him happily red… Alissa put all of her strength into his strangulation, and after several more moments, Donovan stopped struggling and choking altogether. He went very still and became very silent, staring forward into absolute oblivion.

Alissa released him. His corpse fell face forward into the dirt, the vines still wrapped tightly around his throat. Pamela stared, awestruck and numb at the scene that she had just witnessed. It had been the most beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing of all.

Alissa wasted no time and coming to her, dropping down beside her, her face suddenly filled with deepest concern. "Oh, Ivy," she whispered, her voice trembling. Her eyes darted all over the cuts and bruises. She was horrorstruck. "Oh, Mother Earth… what did he do to you, Ivy?"

Pamela finally lost all consciousness again. This was too much to take in.