3

"It went like this," Snowman began her story after a moment's pause. "I was in the in my room at the mansion when it happened." she passed a moment, looking for a cigarette.

"I don't have any, remember?" he reminded her when he realized what she was doing.

She sighed, remembering, and continued from where she left off. "I was in my bedroom getting ready to change when..." she stopped again after uttering this single half sentence, which only made Slick get more irritated. Why did she keep on pausing like that?

"Why what?"

"I..." she looked away and cleared her throat. "I was about to go to sleep when I heard a knock on the door." she took a deep breath. "I wasn't expecting anyone to bother me that late in the evening so I was confused and got up to answer the door, wondering who it could be. Obviously it must have been important since they'd come to my room so late and I expected Itchy to be there or maybe even Doc Scratch. But..."

The Dersite frowned at her hesitation. "But what?"

"It wasn't either of them."

An awful feeling bloomed in Spades Slick's chest, surprising him. Why did he suddenly feel as if what she said next would be something that would drive him over the edge? "Then who was it, if it wasn't either of your pathetic coworkers?"

"It..." she suddenly seemed to lose the ability to speak.

Spades Slick's patience reached its end. "Will you stop that already?" he snapped, slamming his fist onto the nightstand, making her jump. "I don't want to watch you stutter like an idiot. Just tell me the freakin' story!"

"Give me a moment!" she shot back defensively. It was obvious she was having a hard time dealing recounting the incident. Why did the man have to be so pushy about it? It wasn't helping her at all. "I need to get myself prepared, okay? This isn't easy."

That was apparent and that feeling in his chest was getting worse, starting to become an awful tightness. Whatever she said to him he knew would be terrible and, though he usually didn't care about the things she'd gone through, this made an awful rage begin to well up inside him. But he didn't say any of this to her. That feeling he was getting might be wrong after all. He wouldn't know until she finished her story. So he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down and remind himself he should be patient.

Snowman waited a moment longer before she went on, maybe because she wanted Slick to get a hold of himself and exercise some patience. She didn't speak again until she was satisfied he'd deal with her hesitation. This wasn't easy to recollect.

"I..." she paused again, trying to regather her thoughts. "When I opened the door I was surprised by who was standing there since I was told he wouldn't exist unless I died..."

"Who?" he demanded, though now he had a clue as to the identity of her attacker and he didn't like the answer that came to mind.

She looked pained as she said. "Lord English."

"Lord English?!" now that bad feeling flowered into hostility. "What did he want?"

She looked away without another word. It seemed now she had no real intention of finishing her story since she'd already given him the identity of her attacker.

But Slick wasn't going to let her off that easily.

He grabbed her arm and pulled on it to get her to look back at him. "What did he do?" he demanded, his voice a low hiss. "Tell me!"

Slick could tell by the look on her face recalling the memories was painful. "I was surprised to see him as I said," she went on, though her voice had lowered to barely above a whisper. "I wondered how he was there when he only exists after the death of the universe..."

"So what did he do?" he asked her.

"Decided he would remind me of my place..."

"Your place?" he frowned. "Why did he say that to you?" his only guess was that she'd gotten a big head about her new responsibility and acted high and mighty about it. Did that mean she deserved whatever came next?

Snowman avoided the question anyway. "I didn't join the Felt to become such a person," she said mostly to herself. "What did he take me for? Some tramp?"

Slick said nothing. He quickly figured out she wasn't talking to him and didn't want an answer anyway. He would have made her angry if he'd made a comment. "So what did he want from you?" he inquired instead.

Snowman looked up at him, suddenly realizing she'd gotten off track. "As I said," she continued, clearing her throat. "he forced himself into my room and we started talking. At first it was just me asking how he exists now if he doesn't appear until I die. His response was he is already here." she rubbed her eyes. "I remarked that was a strange thing to say and he made me drop the subject. I was all too willing to and asked him what he wanted to talk to me about."

Spades frowned at her. "And what did he say was the reason for visiting you?"

"He said he wanted to talk but it was obvious he wanted more from me than a listener to whatever he wanted to say." she shifted, covering her legs with a blanket. "That became apparent when he..." she trailed off again which only further irritated Spades, only this time he managed to control himself and didn't flip out at her about it.

"When he touched me..." He frowned, leaning toward her now as her voice had gotten lower still. His teeth were starting to show which clued her in that he was going to lose his temper soon.

"How did he touch you?"

"On the cheek." he gave her a look so she tried to clarify. "It was obvious what he wanted. I told him no but he didn't listen to me. When I stabbed his hand with my cigarette holder he hit me back and there was a struggle and..." her voice trailed off. She couldn't go on, didn't want to go on. She'd said enough already.

Slick wanted her to continue. He reached out and grabbed her arm, desiring for her to finish the story. "What did he do?" he demanded, baring his sharp white teeth. "Tell me!"

She was silent.

He shook her. "You have no reason to protect him. He doesn't even care about you or your precious dignity! Just spit it out already!"

She gestured at herself, making it obvious what the outcome was.

The awful feeling flowered into shock and horror. His eyes widened and he stared at her, his expression mirroring that terrible rose blooming inside him, the thorns seeming to stab into all the places in his brain that controlled his movements and emotions. "No..."

She stared back at him now and simply nodded her head. She didn't say the outcome so he was left to draw his own conclusions and none of them were good.

This was just too much. He let her go and pulled back, his mind trying to sort out her words and his feelings. He got up and rushed out of the room, leaving her alone.

Snowman watched him go and then curled up on the bed when she heard the door slam shut.

000

Spades Slick left the apartment and stomped down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk and down the block without really thinking about what he was doing. With how he felt now he wasn't sure he could control whatever he did from then on.

He couldn't believe what Snowman has just told him. It was just too messed up to be true! She was lying, she had to be lying.

But how could he not believe her? There was no way she could have done that much damage to herself. Someone did it and denying it only made him feel worse. Why was he trying to blame her anyway?

This is ridiculous, he told himself. First you want to know who did it because you are intent on beating in their heads for hurting the person you feel entitled to and now you don't want to believe her. Why is that?

The answer was pretty obvious. Because it was Lord English. Now Slick was now coward, but he'd heard stories about the Felt's mob boss and they made him hesitate in going after him. At least for now anyway. He just wasn't ready to face the mobster yet.

Slick growled, clenching a fist in anger. It bothered him greatly that he knew he was unable to do anything about the man yet, and this incident only made him more frustrated. Snowman got the snot beaten out of her, maybe even raped, and he couldn't do a thing about it but make up excuses why it was her fault!

But why does it bother me so much? he asked himself. She's a tramp. She was asking for it, definitely. She always did enjoy making a whore of herself. What did she expect?

No, that was wrong. It wasn't her fault. The only person she bothered acting like that toward was him, no one else. He knew that. She knew that. Everyone, including the rest of the Felt, knew that.

He sighed. "Yeah, it's not her fault."

But that didn't make him feel any better about the situation. Snowman had still been forced to do something violent and painful against her will and Lord English had still gotten away with it.

What was he going to do about it? he wondered. He was still unable to do anything about the mob boss at the moment, even though he was so angry at the moment he could storm the Felt's mansion and attack his enemy and probably do a bit of damage before the monster killed him. That was something in character for him but he knew he couldn't do it. Not now.

"I will eventually," he growled to himself. "He's not going to get away with this."

The short mobster stopped in his tracks, surprised by his own feelings. What was with the sudden protectiveness of the she witch? Was he that obsessed with protecting her integrity?

Slick had no reason to feel defensive toward her at all. He hated her. He hated her more than he hated anything and everything that existed.

So then why was he so upset that she was being used and abused by her employer? It couldn't just be because he felt he was only entitled to abusing her himself. He didn't want to admit that, though which didn't help him feel any better about it.

So, what was he going to do now? he asked himself, stopping in his tracks.

He would have to head back to his apartment and check on her to begin with. Leaving her alone like that was a dumb idea. Lord English might come after her since everyone knew who she'd go to if she wanted to get away from everyone else.

Spades Slick, her former archagent and toy.

Turning around with a sigh of resolution, he headed back to the apartment.