Subject: [OTL]: HellsX 30 Date: Sun, 25 Jul 2004 05:08:14 -0700 (PDT) From: D Benway HellsX [30:45] A Day in Manhattan Produced by Benway. See notes for disclaimers. _______________________________________________________________________________ Kitty was still there in the morning as the ghouls lay about their cavern in a satiated stupor, bulging grotesquely at the gut. They were gazing at the TV, their heads all tilted to one side. She wondered why they didn't turn it the right way up. "Don't even ask," whispered Doug, sounding high as a kite. "Enjoy your meal?" said Kitty. "Ohhhh yeah," said Doug. "Forty years of detailed magical research, mine in one mouthful. His eyes flew open and he bolted upright. "What?" said Kitty. There was great deal of shouting going on out in the corridor. She heard the door open, followed by the sound of someone vomiting. Kitty looked up to see Castle and the Professor coming down the ramp. The Professor was wearing a gas mask. Castle didn't need one. "The bodies," said Castle. "Give them to me. Now." Sam looked him in the eye, and burped. Jubilee rooted around under Tabitha and found something. She offered it to Castle. It was small and grey, about the size of a lima bean. "This?" screamed Castle. "This is all that's left?" Angelo shrugged. "We are more than willing to give you the specimens that Dr. McCoy collected, now that we've finished with them," said the Professor. "You had no authority to do this," said Castle. "We couldn't leave anything there," said the Professor. "We disposed of them as we dispose of all the evidence. National Security has never complained to us about this before." "Do you even have any idea which one of them this came from?" snarled Castle. "Search me," said Paige, bending over and presenting her ass to him. The ghouls snickered. "Let me get this straight," said Castle. "Two witches, two honest-to-goodness real magic users, and you not only kill them but you eat them, too? Are you on our side or not?" "Of course we are," said the Professor. "I'll convey my apologies to the President, but I'm afraid this really was an accident." "Next time," said Castle. "Just you wait." He stormed out, followed by the Professor. "You'd better go," said Doug. "They'll probably send the guards down here to take the TV and beat everyone up." Kitty shrugged, and left. In the corridor, she could still hear Castle shouting, but the only person there was Summers on his crutches, wiping his chin. "Never did get the hang of these masks," said Summers. "They don't fit properly over my visor." "Oh," said Kitty. "Got a message for you," said Summers. "Huh," said Kitty. "Bet you're wondering how you did, last night?" said Summers. "Guess I fucked up, huh?" said Kitty. "Sure did," said Summers. "And this is your reward." Her reward was permission to spend the day in Manhattan, outside, in the real world, in the company of Ororo. Of course, there were some conditions. Kitty was not to leave Ororo's side at any time, and she was to report on anything 'unusual'. Getting ready required some effort. She tried to use the toothbrush to get at the little bits of clotted blood, and it took five shots of grain alcohol to get the last visible bits of Willow's throat off of her fangs. Even then, she found that the abattoir stench still lingered. She had gone after it with a steam hose, blasting whatever remained out of all the nooks and crannies. She changed into a fresh Kevlar and black leather outfit, this time pants, a tight fitting vest, and a sailor's cap. When she presented herself at Ororo's door, she could hear nothing within but the beating of a sleeping heart. Kitty had waited in the hall, acknowledging a nod of the head from Worthington and a grudging Morning from Rasputin. She was starting to lose her patience when the door across from Ororo's opened and Bobby stepped out. He did a double take. "Want to see my collection?" he stammered. She looked at Ororo's door. The shower was running, and the steam carried a slight scent of fresh blood. "Well?" said Bobby. "Sure," she said, following him in. His room was tidier than her own. She knew that her own tidiness was generally regarded a sign or a symptom. Bobby opened the door to a commercial freezer. "It's in here," he said. "Hope it's not too cold for you." "No," said Kitty. "Don't think anything is." Bobby did something with a remote. A spotlight came on, illuminating a block of ice. Inside was a frisbee, and a golden lab leaping for it. Kitty took a closer look, aware that he was just over her shoulder. The dog looked very real, caught in mid-leap. She could see some blood on the dog's teeth. "That's Spot," said Drake. "Oh," said Kitty. "Here're my cats," said Drake. Another spot came on, illuminating another block of ice. Inside of it, a cat lay bloated and prostrated, with five kittens nursing. "You like cats?" said Drake. "No," she said, turning, running. She almost collided with Ororo, who was looking up and down the corridor with a befuddled expression on her face. "Where we you?" said Ororo. "Collection," Kitty whispered. "Hideous, isn't it?" said Ororo. "Let's take off." Kitty had been to the stores that claimed to be from Fifth Ave, but shopping in a suburban Chicago mall was nothing compared to the real thing. Ororo had had the secretaries at the Club make appointments, and there were special staff to meet them at the door. In a small salon on the 3rd floor of Gimbel's, Ororo tried on several little black dresses, all of which showed rather clearly that Ororo was a good 15 pounds heavier than she had been two weeks before. After an hour, Ororo had found nothing that she liked other than a white silk scarf. The performance was repeated at Wannamaker's, Siegel-Cooper, and Altman's. After they left the last store, Ororo packed the new scarf into a nice little Prada purse that she'd shoplifted from Simpson-Crawford and ordered the driver to take the limo back uptown. "Now for the real treat," said Ororo. They disembarked from the limo in front of the Russian Tea House. Ororo slipped the waiter two fifties and he seated them in a booth on the second floor. From it, they had a good view of every table, and of everything the waiters were serving. "Ladies?" said their waiter. "Nothing for me," said Kitty. "A Perrier," said Ororo. "A 150 cl bottle. Bring lots of ice." "I might call your attention to the fact that there's a twenty dollar minimum per person," said the waiter. He was pronouncing each word in a way that indicated a certain type of training in Shakespearean acting. He reminded Kitty of the Captain on Bible Trek. "That's fine," said Ororo. The waiter gave them an eye roll. "Bathroom's right down there," he said. "Try not to leave a mess." "They took my scale," said Ororo, once he had gone. "They took my diary, too." "Rough," said Kitty. "They took my calorie counter, but I've memorized it already," said Ororo. "1200," said Kitty, as a waiter passed with a very small slice of chocolate cake floating in raspberry syrup. "1250," said Ororo. "But that's 2700. At least 2700." A second waiter passed, carrying what looked like a block of cream cheese almost covered by a mound of caviar. "Never eat anything bigger than your fist," said Kitty. "Always eat off a black or navy blue plate," said Ororo. "You always eat less that way." The cream cheese ended up at a table with two enormous women sitting at it. "How could they let themselves get like that?" said Ororo. "Disgusting," said Kitty, imagining just how much rich, Jewish blood they had in their veins, and how there was nothing that they would be able to do to stop her from drinking every last drop of it, if she chose to let herself go. The waiter brought Ororo her mineral water. As he placed the tray on the table, Kitty could see a bandage just inside his shirt cuff. She could smell the fresh blood, so rich, just inches away. "I like you," said Ororo. "You're just like me." Ororo smiled, then giggled, then stopped. Kitty tried to remember if she'd ever seen Ororo smile. There had been one other time, just after the second attempt with the toothbrush, the night before the party. "Not one of my kind," said Kitty. "How did they get you?" "Took me from Africa," said Ororo. "Kidnapped me from my mother's family's village in Kenya." "They knew you could do stuff," said Kitty. "My father could do it," said Ororo. "He wouldn't do it for them, so they killed him, and my mom took me back to Kenya with her." "Huh," said Kitty. "They had a tradition there," said Ororo. "When a girl gets old enough, when she passes her time as a girl and became a woman, they would cut her. I knew how not to become a woman, but they cut me anyway." "Cut you?" said Kitty. "Down there," said Ororo. "It'll grow back, though. All I need is to become a little girl again, and I'll be whole once more." "Oh," said Kitty. "I'm so happy to be back," said Ororo, staring to weep. "Excuse me, is one of you Miss Pryde?" said the waiter, arriving at just the right moment. "Yes?" said Kitty. "Your brother Douglas is downstairs and would like to meet you in the street," said the waiter. "If I might be discreet, miss, I think he may have had an accident and that was why he didn't want to come in." "Doug?" said Kitty. "In an accident?" "An accident in his trousers, Miss," said the waiter. "Oh," said Kitty. "He seems healthy otherwise," said the waiter. "He might have had an accident with his colostomy bag," said Ororo. "In a boy so young?" said the waiter. "After his cancer operation-," said Ororo. "Miss, I am so sorry," said the waiter. "I had no idea." "S'okay," said Kitty. "If there's anything I can do," said the waiter. "Bring me another Perrier," said Ororo. "Don't open it." "Just a sec," said Kitty. "Take your time," said Ororo. At the bottom of the stairs, Doug waved to Kitty from outside. Two or three-passers-by flinched, and one started gagging. "What happened?" she said. "Depends who you ask," said Doug. "Let's go for a walk." "Can't leave Ororo," said Kitty. "Yes you can," said Doug. "She'll sit there until they close, counting calories. That place is one of her triggers. Didn't Summers tell you?" "No," said Kitty. "Would you have taken her in there if you'd known?" said Doug. "No," said Kitty. "Course not." "Mmm," said Doug. "Want to know what the fuck's going on?" "Know what's going on," said Kitty. "Then you're the only one," said Doug. "Come on." He took her down 57th to 5th, then south towards Rockefeller Centre. They stood on a balcony overlooking the floodlit skating rink. Christmas carols were blaring over the loudspeakers. "You been here before?" said Doug. "Yeah," she said. She'd seen more of New York that afternoon than she had on her two previous visits. Then, she had seen the inside of the cheap motel, the inside of the practice arena, and the inside of the championship arena. On the second trip, during all the taxi rides, she had spent her head buried between her knees puking into a plastic bag. "You miss it?" he said. "The skating?" "I-," she said. "I don't know." "What do you think of the X-Men?" said Doug. "Think?" said Kitty. "Order or chaos?" said Doug. "Which one you think they represent?" "Order," said Kitty. "Everything's planned." "Really?" said Doug. "Whose plan?" "Order," said Kitty. "It has to be." "It's chaos," said Doug. "It only looks like order. Do you know what the X-Men are for?" "To fight the demons and the monsters," said Kitty. "Like us?" said Doug. "To fight the other monsters," said Kitty. "The other monsters?," said Doug. "The ones who vote for Stone Cold Steve Rogers every four years? You know they used to call him that, during the Island Fighting? There wouldn't be a Jap alive when he left. He even killed the ones who surrendered." "Uh-" said Kitty. "Fuck, Pryde, you used to be smart," said Doug. "Don't know," said Kitty. "Tell me." "We're a deniable force, Kitty," he said. "We go after targets that it's too sensitive to send the Avengers in after. We don't leave as many bodies, and if we get caught, Rogers and Castle can deny they had anything to do with it." "Oh," said Kitty. "No-one dares use the Avengers state-side," said Doug. "When they hit Topeka two years ago, it took 5 agencies and over 1500 extrajudicial killings to keep it quiet. Rogers put a bunch of kids in with them to try to cool things down, but there's no evidence that it's working." "Oh," said Kitty. "Oh?" said Doug. "Oh? Kitty, last night you murdered two high school students and Rasputin murdered another one and their school librarian. Then you went down a pit 2500 feet under Central Park and watched me and my friends eat the corpses." "But-" said Kitty. "Doesn't that bother you, even a little bit?" said Doug. "Thought you were my friend," said Kitty. "What?" said Doug. "Did what I was told," said Kitty. "Just like all the other little Freikorps," said Doug. "Fry corpse?" said Kitty. "A root cause of why you never knew your grandparents," said Doug. "Never mind. You know why they had me killed, Kitty?" "Killed?" said Kitty. "They had me shot so that they could take me away in ambulance to a clinic where they had Logan suck out all my blood," said Doug. "My Master," said Kitty. "Ghouls don't have masters," said Doug. "But yes, both of your masters made me a ghoul. Know why?" "No," she said. "I can read any language, Kitty," he said. "I can look at any document and see exactly what it means, how it was meant to be spoken by the original writer, and exactly what it's author meant by it. They've had me reading every grimoire on magic they've been able to find or steal for nine years, in between snacks." "Magic," she said. "They'll do anything to get it," said Doug. "They want to use it to make their idea of heaven on earth come to pass. They'd do anything to get their hands on a living user." "That girl, last night-," said Kitty. "The one you killed?" said Doug. "Mr. Summers said-" said Kitty. "He told you that you were a fucking fool and said you couldn't go out, and you misheard him," said Doug. "But that's not-" said Kitty. "It's what you'll say if you want to live," said Doug. "If you want Summers and me to live." "No," said Kitty. "They wouldn't kill you." "They would," said Doug. "Telling you all this might have signed my death warrant. If you talk." "No," said Kitty. "I won't talk." "Unless the Prof tells you to," said Doug. "But-" said Kitty. "But he won't," said Doug. "He?" said Kitty. "She won't," said Doug. "I'll see to that." "I don't understand," said Kitty. "Then why don't you ask a question?" said Doug. "Fuck, you had a scholarship to the Math and Science Academy at eleven and you threw it away to become, what?" "What happened to me?" said Kitty. "Good start," said Doug. "You'll have to be more specific." "What happened to my body?" said Kitty. "Good question," said Doug. "Why are we like this? Because we pissed off God? Because we fucked up so badly at life that we're damned for all time? No-one fucking know why we are what we are. No one understands what a mutant is either. Someone flies, well, they're a mutant. Some one doesn't fly, who knows? I don't know why endsilver will kill you and a fall off this balcony down thirty feet to concrete won't even break your stride. You violate a thousand physical laws every minute of the day, and no-one has no idea why. I don't even know why I stink, no matter how much I wash." "No, no," said Kitty. "Well that's all we know," said Doug. "Why am I still fat?" said Kitty. "Shit," said Doug. "SHIT!" "What?" said Kitty. "Why do I fucking bother?" said Doug. "It's such a great dream, us all alive, not living in fear. Every time, every fucking time I try to make it a reality, everything gets fucked up. No-one's ever good enough." "Oh," said Kitty. "You were supposed to be a sure thing," said Doug. "Sure thing?" said Kitty. "They said all their auguries-" said Doug. "You did this to me?" said Kitty. "You don't want to know," said Doug. She picked him up and pinned him against the wall. "You made me like this?" she said. "You're why this happened?" "Can't tell you," said Doug. "Let him go," said the voice like a dog barking. "Why?" said Kitty. "Drop him or I won't tell you," said Cassandra, emerging from the shadows. "Shit," whispered Doug. Kitty dropped Doug to the ground. "Go," said Cassandra. "What're you doing here?" said Doug. "Came over on Titanic for visit, had to swim most of way, couldn't bother to swim back," said Cassandra. "Don't interfere," said Doug. "Might have just saved your life," said Cassandra. "This is none of your business," said Doug. "Is too," said Cassandra. "There's no place in this for free agents," said Doug. "Like all your fine plans working out," said Cassandra. "Need to talk. Girl stuff. Take off." "We've got to go back," said Doug. "Don't even think-" "Could you stop me?" said Kitty. "Has point," said Cassandra. "You fight both of us?" "Fuck," said Doug. "I'm dead either way." "But not right now," said Cassandra. "Yeah," said Doug. He glowered at the both of them, then turned and stomped off as angrily as an 11-year-old could. "Hey," said Kitty. "How long you been listening?" "Since 'You been here before?'," said Cassandra. "Nice work. Play dumb." "Yeah," said Kitty. "Come," said Cassandra. "Know better place." They walked up Fifth Avenue in silence, then turned into Central Park. Kitty couldn't take her eyes off Cassandra. No adult she had ever seen was that small or that thin. At a small circle of concrete benches, Cassandra sat and patted a spot on the bench. Kitty sat down beside her. Kitty looked into Cassandra's eyes. There was something odd, something missing. "Why stare?" said Cassandra. "No desire." "You're not hungry," whispered Kitty. "Course not," said Cassandra. "I eat." "Can't eat," said Kitty. "Mustn't." "Or what?" said Cassandra. "Don't know," said Kitty. "Bad things." "Not get fat," said Cassandra. "Get strong. Get better. Learn things." "Doug said he picked me," said Kitty. "Was on committee," said Cassandra. "Not just him." "I practiced," said Kitty. "I did everything to make myself perfect, and then-" "Got made into super-girl," said Cassandra. "Huh?" said Kitty. "Got made into super-girl-soldier for war on magic," said Cassandra. "President want magic, Council not let him have it. President can't make war on council, magic big secret, he not want secret to get out. President make war on nightkind, use mutants to fight it. President sneak around, steal magic, then wipe us all out. That's the plan." "All of us?" said Kitty. "Nightkind, mutants, maybe even girls," said Cassandra. "Anyone who not believe like he does." "Jews," said Kitty. "Not Jews," said Cassandra. "Jews safe. Needed for big thing where everyone like him goes up in sky. Something stupid like that." "Oh," said Kitty. "Now, you like you were before, but stronger, faster, not going to die," said Cassandra. "A super-girl." "Like you," said Kitty. "Like me, only if you live," said Cassandra. "But you said-" said Kitty. "Lucky to last another month," said Cassandra. "Hopeless," said Kitty. "No," said Cassandra. "I'll never be thin," said Kitty. "Never be thin?" said Cassandra, laughing. "Like this?" Cassandra did not grow, so much as stretched, to over eight feet in height. Cassandra's clothes fell to the ground, as her waist contracted to less than four inches around. "YES!" screamed Kitty. "OH, YES!" There was no doubt that Cassandra was thin. Kitty could see the flesh, stretched so thin it was almost transparent. She could see the ribs, almost tearing through. She could see every contour of the knee joint, and every bone within it. "Or even thinner?" said Cassandra. Kitty moaned, as Cassandra stretched to well over twenty feet in length, coiling around a lamp-post like a snake. "How?" whispered Kitty. "Show me. Please." Cassandra smiled, and then snapped back to her usual height. Even in that state, her body set Kitty aflame with envy. "Not much to see," said Cassandra, climbing back into her clothes. "Always looked this way. No-one ever wanted me, except for last 30 years." "But you're beautiful," said Kitty. "Fat people beautiful, most of time," said Cassandra. "Thin is beautiful is new thing." "All my life," said Kitty. "None of mine," said Cassandra. "Beauty like that, stupid. Like pyramids. Big stupid boy thing." "No," said Kitty. "Saw pyramids being built, know first hand," said Cassandra. "Stupid boy thing." "But you're-" said Kitty. "Over 6000 years old," said Cassandra. "Still, can sit on Santa's knee at FAO Schwartz. Bruce like that." "From Egypt?" said Kitty. "Before first dynasty," said Cassandra. "You were a princess," said Kitty. Cassandra snorted. "Was slave," said Cassandra. "Couldn't make babies, got sent into marshes to die when floods didn't come. Walked to city, became whore. Client buy me for snack, got killed by city guard, didn't finish, no-one pay attention to me, got thrown in Nile." "Oh," said Kitty. "Learned to survive," said Cassandra. "Knew already, learned more." "But, your master-" said Kitty. "Had no master," said Cassandra. "Master stupid boy thing. Get over it." "But I have to obey my masters," said Kitty. "Should have worn off by now," said Cassandra. "I live for my masters," said Kitty. "Crap," said Cassandra. "This bad. Know why?" "No," said Kitty. "Rare case," said Cassandra. "Frost virgin past time of change. Done on purpose. Club give Logan her blood, make him her slave for life. Should not affect you, unless you not change." "Change?" said Kitty. "Bleed with moon," said Cassandra. "Not yet," said Kitty. "Then, harder for you to not be thrall," said Cassandra. "Castle," said Kitty. "Does he have a master?" "President his master," said Cassandra. "Then the President-" said Kitty. "President not one of us," said Cassandra. "President stupid boy. Hate girls, his god say no boys. Then, get changed by drugs that make him strong. Rogers feed Castle his blood, after conversion. Rogers take precaution, have nuts removed. In jar in vault in Smithsonian. " Kitty giggled. "Drugs make him little boy forever, said Cassandra. "Never know woman. Never know man. Never even know hand or dream." "Me either," said Kitty. "That is problem," said Cassandra. "That is why you still need master." "Not a problem," said Kitty. "Ah," said Cassandra. "Not your only problem." "What if the Professor wasn't a virgin?" said Kitty. "No more master to Logan," said Cassandra. "If not virgin, then food." "Yo, bitches!" said someone, standing a few feet away. She had been vaguely aware of his approach, and how they had been encircled by his friends. She had been so engrossed in what Cassandra had been saying that she had ignored the rush of the blood pounding through their young, excited bodies. "Ever hear it's not safe to be in Central Park at night?" said another. "Word," said a third one. There were all dressed in baggy pants dangling to expose their underwear. They wore gold and silver chains with garlic woven in among them, and crucifixes large enough to qualify as weapons. The one in charge had a knife as long as Kitty's arm, and they were all even paler than Eminem. "Check this out!" said their leader. He undid his pants, and exposed what Kitty was fairly sure was an erection. It occurred to Kitty that she had never seen one in the open before, in real life. She felt something warm and wet in her ear. She glanced around. It wasn't a tongue. "Party time," said one of the others. "Look closer?" said Cassandra, smiling. "Sure thing, bitch," said the leader. Cassandra reached out, took it in her hand, executed a quick twist and jerk, and tore it off at the root. All eight screamed, as one, and seven scattered. The mutilated one sank to his knees with a small cry. "Looks like penis, only smaller," said Cassandra. "Want to see?" Cassandra handed it to her. At first it had looked like a bratwurst, and now it looked like a wiener. Blood ran out both ends and pooled on her lap. Blood. "Give here," said Cassandra. "Please," squeaked the boy. "My dad. He'll give you money. Lots of money." Cassandra had scavenged a couple of empty Combos packages out of a trash bin. She rinsed one out with snow, then took the Vienna-sausage-sized fragment of flesh from Kitty and dropped it in. She packed it in snow, and then inserted it into the other package. She put it in the boy's hand. He dropped it. "Jesus!" he screamed. "Save me, Jesus!" Cassandra sighed, picked the package up off the ground, then slipped it into his jacket pocket. "Jeeeeesus!" screamed the boy. "Shut up," said Cassandra. He began to whimper. "Go to hospital," she said. "Maybe can sew back on. If they sew back on, use nicely. Otherwise, come in night, take more. Understand?" The boy nodded, and started to back away, whimpering. Kitty looked down. There was a small puddle of blood on her right thigh, glistening against the soft leather. She dipped in a finger, and put it in her mouth. It was good, good, rich, hot young blood. She reached down for the rest, but Cassandra's head was there, licking the last of it up. Kitty saw the patch in the snow where the boy had been kneeling. Cassandra looked at it, too. They both leapt, and collided. She heard bones give, but it was blood, and she had to get it all off the snow, all that Cassandra had missed- She sat up, turned her head to the side and vomited a stream of steaming water. "Amateur," said Cassandra. "Hold in mouth. Blood absorbed. Spit out rest. Don't swallow. No-one tell you this?" "No," said Kitty. "Embarrassing," said Cassandra. "Hitting heads like that." "Yeah," said Kitty, breaking out into a fit of giggles. Cassandra grinned, then fell into the snow giggling beside her. "You want to live?" said Cassandra. "Don't know," said Kitty. "Only one right answer to that question," said Cassandra. "Come with me." "Come with you?" said Kitty. "Car waiting," said Cassandra. "Go to safe house. Get out of country. Stay with friends." "Can't," said Kitty. "Can fight master," said Cassandra. "No master here to tell you what to do. Make choice." "Doug," said Kitty. "Can get him," said Cassandra. "Save little corpse eater, too." "Now?" said Kitty. "Soon," said Cassandra. "One condition." "I have a condition, too," said Kitty. "Teach you to change," said Cassandra. "How'd you guess?" said Kitty. "Not hard to guess," said Cassandra. "Hard to learn. Take long time, like dancing on ice." "I can do that," said Kitty. "What's your condition?" "No harm comes to Tim Drake or Stephanie Brown," said Cassandra. "Oh," said Kitty. "Good kid," said Cassandra. "Want him back." "Raped me," said Kitty. Cassandra leapt onto Kitty, pinning her to the ground. Kitty struggled, without effect. "He take you like this?" said Cassandra. Kitty shook her head. "From behind?" said Cassandra. Kitty shook her head again. "In mouth?" said Cassandra. "No," said Kitty. "Then where?" said Cassandra. "Touched me," said Kitty. "With his hand?" said Cassandra. "Yes," said Kitty. "Here?" said Cassandra. "NO!" said Kitty. "Then where?" said Cassandra. "Here," whispered Kitty, guiding Cassandra's hand to the place. "There?" said Cassandra, looking at her hand resting on the side of Kitty's neck. "Didn't want him to," said Kitty. "Not rape," said Cassandra. "I didn't want him to!" said Kitty. "Didn't you?" said Cassandra. "I wanted him to," whispered Kitty. "I wanted him to because I'm a bad person." Cassandra let Kitty go, and sat up, frowning. "How old?" said Cassandra, after a good five minutes of silence. "Eighteen," said Kitty. "Then," said Cassandra. "Thirteen," said Kitty. "Tim twelve," said Cassandra. "Yes," said Kitty. "Tim stupid with girls," said Cassandra. "Need instruction book." "Oh," said Kitty. "Know Tim," said Cassandra. "Brave, but reckless. Clumsy with girls. Good to girl he has, so far. Not hurt her." "But-," said Kitty. "Anyone kiss you?" said Cassandra. "Anyone touch you? Before Tim." "Mommy," said Kitty. "Before." "Before cancer," said Cassandra. "Yes," said Kitty. Cassandra let out a stream of what had to be curses. "Hurts," said Kitty. Cassandra took Kitty into her arms. Kitty sobbed silently, for some time. "Can stop hurting," said Cassandra. "Must learn not to be used." "I don't know how," said Kitty. "Can teach you that, too," said Cassandra. "Living forever like this-" said Kitty. "Live forever different," said Cassandra. "Live forever better." "I've done something terrible," said Kitty. "Make amends," said Cassandra. "We talk to Tim. He guilty, we punish. He not guilty, we punish others. Others who do this to you." "Punish," said Kitty. "Yes." "Promise me that you'll help them," said Cassandra. "I-" said Kitty. "Why?" "Why?" said Cassandra. "They've been caught," said Kitty. "You can't use them any more." "No," said Cassandra. "Useless, like you." "Then why?" said Kitty. "Love," said Cassandra. "I love Tim." "That feeling," said Kitty. "It's gone. Since I changed." "Not love him that way," said Cassandra. "Love him like little brother." "Never had a little brother," said Kitty. "Me neither," said Cassandra. "Change take sex, not take soul." "Oh," said Kitty. "Put away feelings for now," said Cassandra. "Keep them safe. We come, take you all. Go somewhere safe. Make things better." "Better," said Kitty. "Better," said Cassandra. "Really?" said Kitty. "Yes," said Cassandra, hugging Kitty again. "All better." "I'll do it," whispered Kitty. "Brave girl," said Cassandra. "Forty-eight hours. Then all over." "Yes," said Kitty. Cassandra stood up, and brushed the snow off. "Must go," she said. "Car waiting." "See you," said Kitty. "You will," said Cassandra, vanishing into the shadows. Kitty encountered no-one on her way back to the Russian Tea Room. She would barely have been aware of them if she had. If Cassandra was not lying, there was an escape. An escape from everything. If Cassandra was not lying. Ororo was still in the restaurant, sitting with 10 empty tiny bottles of Perrier. "I think I made a mistake," said Ororo. "Yeah," said Kitty. "I think we were supposed to be back hours ago," said Ororo. "Yeah," said Kitty. Both Summers and the Prof were waiting. Summers had clearly had a new asshole ripped sometime in the recent past, and the Prof had taken Ororo immediately to see The Beast. "I meant to tell you," Summers said. "Stay away from the Russian tea house. It's one of her triggers." "Ah," said Kitty. "Any triggers of yours I should know about?" said Summers. "Jews," said Kitty. "Um, well, this is the Hellfire Club, Kitty," said Summers. "Jews aren't exactly encouraged to join or work here. I'll check the records, but you might be the only Jew in the complex." "Oh," said Kitty. "I'll make sure to leave a word with the Prof," said Summers. The next morning, Kitty had gotten a sharp call from the Professor, explicitly instructing her not to fang any club member or staff or guest, especially if they were Jewish. She wondered what on earth she would do if she hadn't a Master to back her up. By the evening, there hadn't been any sort of message from Cassandra, at least not directly. Instead, Kitty and the rest of the team had been taken to a briefing room and shown a video tape that had arrived that afternoon. It showed Doug, roped to a chair, with a copy of that afternoon's Gotham Gazette held out in front of him. "He's being held hostage," said Summers. "Even if he's a ghoul, he's of primary importance to certain special projects and we need to get him back. We've established where he's being held, and we go in tonight to get him out. This is his captor." Summers projected a picture of Cassandra. Kitty started to tremble, but no-one was paying any attention to her. [Next: Selina Kyle]