Chapter Five

It had been nearly a month since The Once-ler had became an Operator. It had all been the same; kill this criminal, kill that criminal, all for the glory of the Master. The Once-ler sits in a warm bath, his knees pulled up to his chest, thinking over the past few weeks. Everything was so different now. He knew he was no longer human, but he still felt human sometimes. An alarm goes off and the rooms are bathed in red emergency light. He, quickly, gets out of the bath and dries off. He's still damp as he struggles with his tie. 38 bursts in the door, a wild look of panic on her face.

"He's done it. 24's started a coup. I have to go take care of some loose ends, and so do you. Remember your old High School? Go there, now. 12's waiting. I can feel her."

"12...?" But it was too late, 38 had already vanished, leaving no trace behind. Once-ler shuts his eyes and focuses on Mt. Burgess Academy's gymnasium. It was summer, so he knew no one would be there. He couldn't risk bystanders being injured-he didn't know who this 12 was or what she could do. In a flash, he finds himself in his old gymnasium from when he was a boy. He doesn't get even a second to find his feet before two heavy gauge chains wrap themselves around his neck and begin to constrict. He pulls his hands up, trying to work himself free.

"This is who that asshole, The Master, send to fight me? A fucking Endret? That's what he thinks of me? I'm Number 12. I am Chains. CHAINS!" She pulls tighter and Once-ler can feel his eyes filling up with blood and his throat growing tighter and tighter. She lifts him into the air and his body smacks against the ceiling. She brings him down hard enough to splinter the hardwood floor of the gymnasium and begins to drag him, splintered wood sticking all in his body. He can't scream. She releases him and he picks up his axe. She fires a chain at him, and he deflects it. She pouts. "Really?" She sends another, and this one grabs the haft of his axe and pulls it from his hands. Snapping it in half in front of him, she throws it to the side and another chain wraps around his right leg and left arm. She begins to pull, trying to pull him apart. He screams in agony as he feels his joints seperating until suddenly, he hears a high-caliber gun go off and the chains release their deathgrip on him. He falls to the floor.

"Leave him alone, 12." He can hear 38 say.

"Aren't we stingy, Ol' Three-Eight? Won't share your pretty new dolly with me. I must admit, if I was human...he looks much nicer than the one 86 got. Your little china doll."

"Shut up." She says, a bemused expression on her face. She raises her gun and fires again and Chains raises her chains to block, only to see them shattered.

"My chains!" she shouts, startled. She fires again, this time, blowing a basketball-sized hole in 12's abdomen. 38 closes in with a huge smile on her face and, laughing, pulls 12's heart out with her right hand. "38...don't..."

"Don't what?" She crushes 12's heart in her hand, killing her as her suit-clad body goes limp.

There is a pounding on Sylvester's door.

"Syl! There's been a coup! All of us loyal to the Master are forming up and receiving an attack order. Come out-I know where you're needed." Sylvester had been on a couple missions, but he was still green. He felt sick as he stepped out of his quarters. 86 places her hand on his shoulder and he finds himself somewhere so familiar it brought tears to his eyes. The old orphanage he grew up in. It was empty, now, and had fallen into disrepair. Water dripped from the ceiling and all that was metal now rusts into nothing. The wood floors were warped, and the walls were crusted in mold.

"In their sties with all their backing they don't care what goes on around...in their eyes is something lacking, what they need's a damn good whacking..." he hears a young man sing. He hoists his hammer, readying himself for what comes next. "Everywhere there's lots of piggies living piggy lives. You can see them out for dinner with their piggy wives, clutching forks and knives to eat-" He dives from the darkness, wrapping a whip around Sylvester's hammer and trying to pull it out of his hands. "their ba-con!" The hammer is pulled from his hand and he sees a tall, thin young man with black sclera and gold irises. His hair is brown and shaggy. In each hand there seems to be a black leather whip.

"Who the hell are you, songbird?"

"You just answered your own question." He bows, allowing the whips to wave about him. "I am number 47, Songbird." He smiles, wide-a grin dominating his face. "Joan was quizzical, studied pataphysical science in the home. Late nights all alone with a test-tube," he brings his whips down on Sylvester, cutting his face. Blood stains his green shirt, but the cuts heal quickly. "Oh, ho ho ho. Maxwell Edison, majoring in Medicine calls her on the phone," He wraps the whips around Sylvester's wrists and pulls. He feels as if he is being pulled in half, and that young man is singing Beatles songs. "Can I take you out to the pictures, Jo-oh-oh-oan. But as she's getting ready to go, a knock comes on the door." He pulls tight and Sylvester can feel his shoulders separating. With a laugh and a smile, Songbird darts forward, picks up the hammer, and brings it down on Sylvester's head. "Bang bang! Maxwell's Silver Hammer came down upon her head! Bang bang! Maxwell's Silver Hammer made sure that she was dead!". Pain radiates through him and blood starts to pour out of his nose. His skull is fractured. Anger boils in Sylvester, and he pulls himself free.

"You didn't grow up in an orphanage, did you, 47? What am I saying, your kind don't grow up." He draws close and punches 47 in the face with every ounce of strength he now possessed. "You like music, huh, you little shit? How's this? You are the angel of Death," Sylvester punches him again, busting teeth. "And I am the dead man's son. He was buried like a mole in a fox-hole, and everyone's still on the run." He picks 47 up by his shaggy, brown hair and drives his fist into his face, busting his nose and sending black blood flying. "And who is the master of Foxhounds? And who says the hunt has begun?" He kicks him in the chest and 47 coughs up more blood. "Who calls the tune in the court-room," He picks him up and begins to separate his jaw with his bare hands. "And who beats the funeral drum?" 47's head starts to come apart. He pulls his heart out, crushes it, and drops the lifeless Natural Operator to the ground and picks his hammer back up. Knowing he has no time to explore what was his old home, he blinks back to his new home.