▽ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜᴇᴜs ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇx [SIDE STORY + IMPACT]

[Remington Rothfelder]

The trunk seemed like the perfect place for Pudgers, the Secret Agent (or whatever the **** the guy was). Of course, before he did that, he had to shoot Vel something of an apologetic expression for having gone off script so to speak. He normally didn’t do that type of thing, but sometimes his impulses got the better of him. One instance during which that was likely to happen was when a situation involved vampiric secrecy. And then there was, of course, the potential for danger posed to kin and clan. Even so, he could tell that the woman was not too wroth with him, so he let the event pass with little in the way of thought. He wasn’t about to get caught up in the details if he didn’t have to.

By the time the guy was loaded up, Nix had found some sort of file. Remington took the wheel. Thankfully, the keys were in the ignition and he cranked the engine to life with a practiced set of motions. Remi was about to examine the file more closely when the cops showed up. Naturally. ******* thanks, pigs. He grunted, a low sound of annoyance that generally meant he was about to slam his fist into something. Nothing could ever be simple.

So yeah. No.

His jaw clenched, and he half leaned out of the car, after glancing to Nix and then suddenly the alleyway was swamped in a pool of darkness as thick as smoke and inky dark as the deepest part of the ocean. “Hold onto your tits, this is gonna be fun.” And with that, he floored it. Little known fact: Remington had a history of car theft; it had started when he was a young man in his father’s own garage. Some of his favorite memories involved putting the pedal to the metal and roaring down a highway so fast that it nearly peeled the paint. To say that he could drive was an understatement, and with the advantage of full visualization, he was out of there like lightning.

It helped that it was night and there was not a lot of traffic to contend with, but after he barreled out of the alleyway, he turned sharply onto the next street, which had the potential to fling everyone to the right. The contents in the trunk shifted. Whelp. Pudgers deserved whatever he got.

“Where we goin’, Bambi?” He asked.

She relayed the location, and though it caused a curious lift to the man’s brow, he didn’t question it. He did however slow down when they were far enough away from the police squad to not have to worry about being followed. He just didn’t want to garner even more police attention. Ever since that asshat, Bancroft, had gotten into office – there had been dozens more cops out on the streets. In his experience, it didn’t do much to actually reduce crime so much as just put more officer’s lives on the line needlessly. It was almost like their newest elected official was hoping that there would be more casualties. Whatever the case, it didn’t take all that long for him to get to the morgue. Apparently, there was a room a floor up that could be used for all sorts of different things. Namely disposing of evidence.

Did morgues have cremation ovens? Genius move if they did.

When he came to a stop out back, where they would not be observed, he cut the engine off, immediately exiting the SUV so he could go and gather up the government agent. Vel seemed to be handing off some orders to Nix, and by the time he had the chubby guy over his shoulder, the red haired shadow was ushering him inside. Apparently they were meant to get information out of him while Velveteen and Aksel searched through the car for any further information, like the file that Phoenix had found.

As it was, a name wasn’t a whole lot to go off of, especially if they didn’t really know if the woman was the reporter the agent had mentioned. She could have just been one of any number of people the guy had his eyes on. The fact was that they needed a ton more in the way of information before they could move forward. And they needed it yesterday. “So Nix, I haven’t asked Blake yet, but are you into bondage at all?” He asked casually. His tone was dry, nearly flat. Inexpressive. His humor was that way though.

When he got up the stairs, it didn’t take long for him to plop the agent into the metal frame of a chair. He’d nabbed a length of rope from the back of the SUV when he’d grabbed Pudgers (conveniently placed if you asked him), and cut it into segments. Each leg was fastened to the front legs of the chair, and arms were bound to the back of a chair the two woven together so that the human could not lift his appendages away with any sort of ease.

“I think you know what needs to happen here, Nix.” He said to her a moment later even as he straightened. His knuckles cracked as he formed a fist, and then he backhanded the man in the seat to get him to snap awake. “I would handle this, but I have pushed my luck enough for today. Blood and I don’t always mix so well.” He left it at that. There were times when he was perfectly alright around the red fluid. Other times when the scent of it made him ******* nuts. Like ‘try-to-gnaw-through-someone’s-neck ‘ crazy. He’d been good about control up until that point and didn’t want to chance kicking himself over the edge and slaughtering the guy before he could spill his info. So he clasped Nix’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before he gravitated towards the door, as far away as he could be from the pair without actually leaving the room.

[Phoenix]

Wrapped up in studying the photo and the file, and Vel's barrage of questions, the sound of the distant sirens growing progressively louder barely registered. Since she didn't have answers for their trusty leader, she grabbed the file off the dashboard and handed it back to her. "I'm assuming this is her... The reporter.. but from the looks of it, Agent Dumbass' note taking skills need about as much work as his gut..." trailing off, she resumed her study of the photo as if those mousy curls held the key to... What, she didn't know. But she was sure there was something in the picture, and so she studied it, committing every detail to memory from the beauty mark to the pearl earrings and the strange pendant dangling from a golden chain; an eerily realistic spider, save for that is seemed to be to be made of solid gold. Maybe even an unfortunate arachnid encased in gold.

A flicker of blue light across the windshield snapped Nix's attention to the outside world. Now she head the sirens and the crunch of car tires against fresh snow from in front of the diner. She handed the photo back to Vel and Aksel along with the rest of the file. 'Hold onto our tits?' Phoenix's mind echoed in obvious confusion. A quick glance to her chest confirmed what she already knew. "I don't have ti--" and that was all she got out before the maniac behind the wheel set off at breakneck speed.

One hand shot out to hold onto the door for dear life. It wasn't that Phoenix feared dying by car crash; reckless driving just set her nerves on edge and always had. Remi, it seemed, had a strange definition of 'fun'. Finally, after what seemed like far too long to be good for her sanity, the vehicle slowed, but she dared not release her grip on the door handle until the SUV came to a full stop. Jaw clenched, she opened the door and stepped out with as much dignity as she could muster, giving a curt nod to Vel's instructions, though she refused to think about the implications of her leader's request.

"We'll find out what he knows," she confirmed before turning to lead Remi into the morgue and up to the second floor. Of course Vel knew she knew where to go; nosy was an understatement, and she Shadow had made it a priority to trade in knowledge long ago. Thankfully, Remi didn't seem to need help with the agent; the less she had to touch him or think of him as a person, the easier it would be to complete the task she'd been assigned. With each step up, she focused on hiding what it was that made her her just a little bit more. By the time the pair and their cargo set foot on the second floor, the spark that was Phoenix was gone from her eyes, leaving a dull, empty shell.

Somewhere, far away, that shell of a person heard Remi's voice, but it took her a moment to reconcile words into a question with any semblance to meaning. 'Bondage?' How was that relevant to the task at hand? She sure as **** didn't know, and she was at a loss for how to answer. Switched off, she simply shrugged as she slid out of her jacket and the blouse she wore beneath, tossing both over the back of a free chair. The black tank that remained could sustain a bit of gore.

All Nix really needed was a sharp, thin blade. They were in a morgue; it only took rummaging through a few drawers to find what she needed: a dissecting scalpel and a stash of fresh blades, tucked away in their sterile little envelopes. Taking a deep breath, she turned to Remi and nodded; of course she knew what had to be done, but that didn't mean she was going to enjoy it.

"Lets get this over with," Nix whispered, grateful that her voice managed not to shake. Her teeth clenched at the sound of Remi's fist connecting with this idiot's face, but it didn't shake her resolve. 'We can do this, she reminded herself, 'We have to do this.' Swallowing down the last of her hesitation, she stood in front of the man, tapping the scalpel against the concealed blade. He was slowly coming to; a groan and a few bleary blinks later, and he even managed a rather comical show of struggling against his restraints.

Once she figured he was aware of the score, a cold smile curled Phoenix's lips. To his credit, he remained perfectly silent this time.

"Hi. My name is Nix. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you know how this works. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated by everyone involved, but most especially, you. How about you start with telling me your name, agent..?" Using the blunt scalpel as a pointer, she poked his chest.

He was sullenly silent for a moment, running through the iterations of this scenario. This little redhead didn't look like much, and she hadn't even bothered to put the scalpel together, so maybe he'd be able to scare her into letting him go. Even though the other guy looked like a harder case, the bag of bones seemed to be in charge. "My name is Conley Pierce, CSIS Special Agent. You're making a huge mistake - you don't know who you're dealing with - let me out of here and we can forget this ever happened. Maybe we can even work together to track her down. Last lead I had before you guys said she was hiding out somewhere outside the city. If anything were to happen to me, that wouldn't be good for you guys, now would it...?"

Of course, this wasn't what Nix wanted to hear, and it showed on her face. With slow, deliberate movements, she peeled the protective wrapper off the blade and snapped it into place. Kneeling down beside Conley, she let the lighting hint at the sharpness of the blade and then feigned her willingness to cut the rope. Of course, she stopped just short and diverted the blade to the man's wrist, using it to slice away the fabric covering the soft, fleshy expanse of Pierce's forearm.

"Who is she? Why do you want her? Why were you following us?"

It was then that it dawned on him that they hadn't a clue what he'd been after. Confusion overrode his features despite his poor attempt to hide it. Those watery brown eyes widened and his jaw tightened as he silently cursed himself. "That's classified information."

"Wrong answer, Conley," she replied. Using a finger to trace along his arm she located the radius and the ulna. Taking a breath, she emptied herself of any remaining emotion she thought to possess went to work removing the very top layer of his dermis. That was the first time he screamed, but the Shadow didn't seem to notice. "There's a lot of interesting musculature and tendons here... you should see it. I'll show you... Who is she?" she paused, glancing up and awaiting an answer.

"God! Stop! She's a reporter. She got some information about what's going on in the Quarantine and the Mausoleum and she's going to write a big story on it."

"What did she find? What does she know?"

Pierce hesitated a second too long and Phoenix continued her vivisection to another chorus of screams. Blood began to flow more rapidly from the growing wound, though she'd managed not to damage anything... yet. Pierce's struggling didn't help things.

"We've been investigating the disease outbreak at the mausoleum. She got her hands on a report from one of our researchers and she's going to... do something with it if we don't stop her."

The answer didn't tell the entire story, and so she continued. Chest heaving and sweat drenched, Pierce relayed the story piece by piece, slowly forming a cohesive picture of the events that had taken place. The secrets of the 'disease' were going to be revealed to the public if this reporter wasn't found. By the time she'd gotten what she believed to be the full story, the man's arm was a bloody mess, tendons, nerves and muscles exposed, yet mostly intact. There would be scarring, but minimal damage to the functionality of his hand if they chose to allow him to live.

Barely conscious and panting, those pained brown eyes fixed on Phoenix as she went to resume her ministrations. "Please. No... no more... please. There's a USB - it has everything... Disguised as a battery in the flashlight. Backseat... Please..."

Satisfied, she backed away, reaching out to her team via telepathy. "There's a flashlight in the backseat - one of the batteries is a USB in disguise. Remi can... explain." The scalpel fell from her bloodied hand and Phoenix walked, very slowly, out of the room and away from the man she'd nearly killed in the worst possible way. Once she was out of the room and the door closed behind her, she slumped against it, letting herself fall to the floor. Her arms curled around her knees and she closed her eyes, slowly rocking herself. She could only keep herself at bay for so long.

[Velveteen]

Why they hadn’t left already she didn’t know and Velveteen instinctively shrunk down a little as blue light flooded the area behind them. Luckily the building provided them ample cover to not be seen as yet but if they didn’t move soon then it was all over. A small chuckle that couldn’t be helped was roused was the brief exchange up front and then right on cue the car lurched forward and sped away from the scene of the crime. She doubted it would take long for the police to realise there was car there recently. Longer for them to track the vehicle type and such from the dirty tread marks left in the slush. By which time both the agent and his car will be long gone.

The speed didn’t worry her. She loved driving fast herself but when Remington threw it unceremoniously around a corner without slowing down she gripped the door handle to prevent ending up in Aksel’s lap. Absently she answered when asked for a destination but her mind was already elsewhere. Seriously..what the **** had they just done? Murder, abduction and grand theft auto were just a few of the charges that came to mind with a likely list of other lesser felonies and misdemeanours, and they weren’t done yet. For a moment she let her mind turn to thoughts of her husband. She wondered how long it would be before he got back to the treehouse to find her not there. Perhaps she should get in touch and let him know what was going on. Maybe later when they had more information and hopefully some justification for what they had done.

The car stopped and she was surprised to find they had reached their destination. The care now neatly tucked away in the back of the building. Safe for now. She sent Nix and Remi upstairs with their….guest and instructions to see what else they could find out while her and Aksel searched the car for any further clues. She took the front going straight for the glove box. Of course that was way too obvious and there was little of interest to be found there. She reached in under the dash and ran her fingers around the edges. The guys were sneaky fuckers, that is what they got paid to do, so underestimating Agent Dumbass at this point could be a detriment.

Her fingers halted and she canted her head to the side as if listening to something unheard and then nodded. Whatever they had done up there it had worked and worked fast. “Aksel is there a torch back there? A flash drive disguised is a battery. That is what we are looking for.” She turned in the seat to look back between the seats. Intrigue was growing by the second. What the actual **** did they stumble upon…..or rather - What the actual **** stumbled upon them?

[Aksel]

Blue lights flashed off the far building, the chaotic reflection filling the alley with a flickering glow of blue. The interior of the S.U.V. dimly lit with the pulsing color. Aksel could only grimace in silence as he watched the corner, suspecting that the officers would be surrounding the building the first moment they arrived on the scene. That was not the case.

The engine of the large, black truck grumbled to life, the engine turning easily. The interior may be unkempt, kept by the slob of a man now tucked not so neatly into the trunk, but it was well maintained. Fortunately for government vehicles, they had an entire fleet of mechanics at the ready for the smallest of tuning that the truck might need. Unfortunately, it was not their job to keep the cabin clean.

The corner was empty when the tires kicked snow across the street, a short bark as the tires found purchase on the wet asphalt beneath the slushy gray snow and propelled it forward with the lurch of snap-acceleration. It was clear in the way that the heavy car maneuvered in the treacherous conditions that Remington was a professional driver. The thought occurred to him that he really didn’t know much about the man behind the wheel.

Driving didn’t bother him, no matter the speed really. In the past, during his summer vacations to the German countryside, he and his sister would take their father’s Porsche onto the Autobahn, a long stretch that spanned the distance between Berlin and South Germany. They would push the car to its limits. He had seen speeds this heavy iron block on wheels could only dream of. The sharp corners that Remington took in the heavy truck produced similar g-forces that a 212 km/h sports car would create along the wide, easy turns of the highway. It was all a feeling he was accustomed to, the rifle planted in the floorboard acting as a brace when the truck pulled them to the right, the center of the car from his seat. The door was his solace when it pushed him left.

He remained quiet for the drive, relaxed with the hum of the engine and the easy sway of the centrifugal force that pulled at his body less and less as Remington brought the car’s speed to one more natural and less conspicuous. When they arrived, he quietly stepped from the truck and let the others speak. He was fully aware of the next step by that time. Painfully aware.

Information needed to be gathered by whatever means that presented themselves. That always meant the same thing.

Pain.

Torture.

You want to be the one to do it. You want to do it. You should the one to do it.

Sick, sick ****.

Freak.

He shied away from these things as tools for extraction. His personal views on the affliction of pain was almost religious. Pain was the white flame of purification. Through pain, one might be purged of evil, to be cleansed of their black nature. Pain was all that he deserved. What they intended to happen in that room was not what he felt pain should be. He frowned at the thought, and leaned his weight against the truck, his head dropping back to the tinted window, the faces inside only barely visible through the darkness of the glass.

He was thankful that he was not chosen to be the one to give this man pain. He would have enjoyed it far more than he should have. Joy was evil. Pain was repentance. He pressed his lips into a thin line as the others stepped from the truck. Black eyes watched as Remington unceremoniously lifted the agent’s heavy frame from the trunk, the man’s strength apparent in the way he handled the limp sack of meat without strain. As he stepped away, Phoenix in tow, his eyes moved to the open lid of the trunk. Without a word, he set to work, leaving Velveteen to her own line of attack for the task at hand.

Honestly, he was a little surprised she had stayed behind.

His hands moved across the bottom of the trunk, fingers exploring the edges of the hard vinyl lining of the taillight housing, a pop-rivet left unpressed, a panel not fully locked into place, any sign of some kind of storage compartment or hidden recess to keep a more sensitive kind of information. He doubted there would be much to find with the state they had found the truck in, but it was the best chance they had at finding what they were looking for.

He found several of the compartments. Most of them were empty, dusty from the lack of use. One held a file, thick enough to be considered a moderately lengthy novel. A quick leaf of its pages proved fruitless, most of the information on foreign diplomats visiting the country, none of the photographs matching the one in the folder that they had found. He set the folder back into its place and continued his search. Another compartment held a plethora of discarded candy wrappers, another filled to capacity with new pens that had never been used.

In a last effort to search the trunk, his hand passed along the edge of the bottom, fingers passing between the carpeted panel and the vinyl floorboard that housed the trunk’s lid. As he moved along its edge, he found a loop of fabric rolled into either side, acting as a latch between the floor of the trunk and the vinyl frame. A crook of his finger unfastened the button that held the ribbon of polyester into place with a quiet snap and the floor of the trunk lifted like another lid.

This was what he had been looking for.

The compartment beneath the trunk held an entire arsenal. There was enough weaponry to arm an entire squad of agents to the teeth, to put up a fight against a small nation. At least, that was what it felt like, when one looked in at the dozen weapons neatly clipped into specially designed grooves in the compartment, each fitted perfectly to keep them from shifting in transit. Specially designed tools kept to their own special places in the false floor-lid caught his attention. His dark eyes narrowed as he glanced them over.

Grappling hook, flashlight, emergency flares, k-bar knives, crowbars, lockpicks… this was a toolkit he wouldn’t mind to keep. As his hands reached for the lid, he heard Velveteen’s voice, his eyes glancing to her over the top of the open cover.

The flashlight.

“Found it.” he said quietly, hand finally grasping the flashlight and lifting it for her to see. He twisted the base, emptying the batteries into his palm. The false battery was easy to identify. Why go through the trouble of hiding something, if it was going to be so easy to recognize?

He placed the drive in his palm and nodded to Velveteen. He had found it.

His hand found the top of the lid and closed it, before he stepped back and closed the trunk.

Dawn was coming soon. The night had started late, and they had been in the garage for a short time already. He moved to the back seat, taking his rifle from the truck as he turned to Velveteen. “We have the drive. Just need to figure out what to do with whatever they left of that agent upstairs, and that will be about all I can do for the night. I should be home before dawn.” he laid the drive in her palm and gave her another nod. “I would stay to help, but…”

He shrugged.

He didn’t need to explain. They didn’t need to know what he felt.

He just gave another nod, and withdrew the hand.

He laid the rifle across his back and stepped from the garage.

“Good evening.” his voice sounded over the headsets before he pulled his from his ear. He would check back in the morning. He stepped into the snow and walked quietly into the night, icy wind cutting across the intersection as he crossed into the transit. He turned back, grimacing at the morgue before he stepped onto the train.

[Remington Rothfelder]

He had not been able to stay and watch the way Nix pulled information out of the man in the chair, not because he was particularly squeamish, but because it had been a long night and that rigid discipline by which he normally avoided the nastier effects of his hunger was beginning to wane. He had known when the blood began to flow freely that he’d needed to put a wall between himself and the plash of that vital energy or he would end up doing something regrettable. He ended up just outside of the room that had become the designated torture chamber, his back against the wall, his jaw tight and arms folded across his chest. He heard it of course, every uttered word and scream.

They stuck in his head and he found himself going over every little bit that they were given, scrutiny somewhat duller than normal given the time of night. The sun would be up soon. But he was not alone in his own head, because Nix soon relayed information to the rest of the group, and it seemed it was up to Remington to explain a few things. He watched when the other shadow exited the room of pain, but he did not watch to see where she went. He assumed after what had happened moments before, she needed a little time to herself. Or something.

Velveteen was alone when she came up the stairs, and Remi assumed Aksel had been off to make the journey home. For the next several minutes, Remington filled his sire in on what they had found out, and then the woman cracked whatever encryption had been used to try and mask the contents of the USB file. There was even more information to be found there. Security feeds, useless facts about her, a myriad of things that gave them more and more knowledge about exactly who and what it was they were dealing with. He assumed that Vel would share the intelligence when it was most appropriate, and make whatever call she found necessary. Most curious had been the way that they had been unable to track her. At all. Seeker abilities attempted even.

A dead end. They were at a dead end. “Wish I could stay and help you clean up the mess in there, but I’m cutting it close as is.” He offered his sire a smile, this time by far less apologetic than the last. The members of Tytonidae made for a good team. He knew that they would find what they were looking for one way or another. His hand reached to cover the miniaturized version of the Home Bound tome he kept in a pocket. He recited part of it and then disappeared from sight. He barely had time to make it to his hut before the sun came up and he was out like a light.

- - - - - - - - - -

He clutched his blade tightly in one hand. He was in one of those secret buildings, the ones that were filled with enemies to his kind. He was not there alone. No, he was on a team with the very same people he had been working with a short time before. He and Aksel were there to hack and slash. Velveteen was there to do a different type of hacking entirely, as well as rip her way through secure parts of the skyscraper. Nix. Well she was doing that ritual mumbo jumbo that Remington didn’t quite get.

He had been in a few of them, been on the winning side of two, and there was something very wrong with the monsters inside. For one, they were not security guards. They weren’t shamans or workers. No, they were more like mooncalfs, but even that was just an inaccurate example. There was a constant drip drip dripping somewhere in the background. It was like there were a hundred stitched together faces and bodies of people he knew. Not just nameless corpses, but the flesh and souls of people he had known for years. People he either loved or had loved in the past. Just looking at them. Thinking about cutting his way through them made his gut clench. They were constantly changing as well, and every time he made a move to attack, another memory hit him like a sucker punch.

He was not the sort of man to doubt himself, but he also was not a heartless beast. Not entirely. It was the closest thing to fear he had felt in a long time. Self loathing.

So he moved to turn away and caught windblown blond hair from the corner of his eye before it was replaced by an image of Phoenix. No sooner did she appear on the scene than she sliced through the phantasm with her sword. It screamed in the voices of everyone Remington had ever cared about and his heart felt like it was going to fly through the bottom of his chest. He felt an almost crippling mix of hatred and sadness wash through him that was only halted by the screech of his teammate. “I FOUND THE KEY!” He didn’t realize he’d cast his eyes down until he needed to steady his gaze on her. Confusion must have been evident on his features because she continued.

“Come on, Remi, shape up. We need two more keys before we can get out of here.”

Silence.

“What?”

"We're dreaming."

[Phoenix]

Phoenix sat there, huddled against the wall for a long time, raw and aching. At least it seemed like an eternity to her jumbled mind; maybe her thoughts were just racing - bouncing so quickly from one extreme to another that time itself couldn't quite keep up. 'You're a monster. How could you do that do someone? You're a monster,' was the accusing chant of her subconscious. Her faction mates were close by, and that knowledge was the only thing keeping her from screaming. Instead, she gritted her teeth and bore the self loathing with a strangled sob.

Blood smeared the Pandora bracelet that never left her wrist as she counted each bead with shaking fingers. The bracelet had been a gift, and each bead was meant to be a reminder of everything she'd been through - everything she'd overcome. A gift from Doc. 'It's genetic. You're a monster, just like your father.' As those doubts swirled, darkening her thoughts, her fingers clenched around the delicate beads adorning her bracelet and gave a testing pull. It was so very tempting to rip away her lifeline instead of cling to it. It would be easier to throw caution to the wind - to give in and accept every sinister doubt.

'You're just like your father. '

She wanted to scream at that echoing voice until it receded, but she knew the volume of her words wouldn't make it go away. Only conviction would quench the burning flame of that hurt. "I'm nothing like Charles, I'm nothing like Charles, I'm nothing like Charles," she whispered to herself like a mantra until she finally believed it. "I'm not a monster."

The voices - Vel and Remi if she heard right - were still filtering through the wall when she finally managed to calm her turbulent thoughts. Something about a failed track. Phoenix knew it wasn't proper protocol, that she should wait to be dismissed or at least inform the others before leaving, but she needed to go. Forgotten until now, the stench of the congealing blood on her hands was nauseating. Her fingers brushed the bead that acted as her tome and the redhead vanished home.

Lately, Phoenix had found the Citadel to be a lonely place, isolating her from the rest of her faction. But tonight, that solitude was a blessing; she doubted even Blake's company would have soothed her aching soul. Stripping away her bloodied clothes, Phoenix let the tears fall while she washed away the night's horrors. The hot shower scoured her thoughts and gave her peace of mind to think. Jackie was definitely human, so why wouldn't tracking powers work on her? What could interfere with tracking? The only thing she could think of was the fae; who knew what they were truly capable of? If they were sheltering her, nothing they could do, physically, would unearth the woman.

By the time she was cleaned and her mind made up, the sun had started to creep over the horizon, and Phoenix just managed to crawl under the covers before sleep claimed her.

- - - - - - - - - -

The darkness melted away, leaving Phoenix alone, standing in the center of a stone chamber filled with flickering candlelight, even though no source of light seemed visible. Her hand went to her neck, making sure her key still hung on its golden chain. Only one door lead out of the room; without hesitation, she took it, descending the stairwell beyond. This was a familiar dream, taking place in a familiar room and she knew what she had to do to escape. A series of twists and turns lead her from door to door as she wound her way down through the maze and each identical room, going down down - always down. The familiarity of the landscape was comforting despite its strange appearance.

The further down she went, the more the walls started to warm and transform, becoming something both familiar and unique. In places, stone bulged and transitioned to wood; a familiar pale wood she'd only ever seen in the towers of a raid. The light flickered one last time and then brightened almost unbearably. Her brow furrowed, eyes screwing shut to avoid the harsh glare. It was then that the floor dropped out from under her feet and she was falling. And then she was floating... before once again standing in her own little room, but no longer alone.

Surrounded by her teammates and the fleeting shadows of monsters in the dark, Phoenix smiled. She didn't recall consciously pulling her fellows into this twisted little world that was all hers, but she'd intended to do so - the dreamwalking business was new to her. Even though their presence was necessary, she also found herself grateful for the company. The mutated horrors wandering around the group were another matter. When one rushed her, she lashed out with her favored sword, the ruby glinting darkly in the light. Monstrous as it was, the creature fell easily as any titan she'd ever encountered. One of its head wore a key on a thick leather strap; once the creature was well and truly dead, she plucked the key off the corpse and rejoiced. And then of course explained.

Remi didn't seem all that convinced, so she continued, handing him the key.

"I was thinking... after I left. Powers don't seem to work on her, but why? The only think I can think of that would block tracking on a human would be the fae... and given what she found out, I could see why they'd hide her - remember what Blake and I found out, Vel?" She turned to the raven haired woman, hoping she remembered the conversation.

"We can't track Jackie with our powers, but we know what she looks like. We know what she knows. If she's in hiding, she's probably still asleep. I can slide in and out of people's dreams, but I can't do it all myself... so I pulled you guys in to help search. But everyone needs their own key before we can leave." She made a face, scrunching up her nose. "Apparently my brain works like a raid... Once you guys get your keys, we can leave and... if I know my brain, I think I know how that'll work... I'm going to be preoccupied with keeping this together, so maybe Vel, while we're looking, you can send mindspeak words at her to make her dream of certain things that we'd recognize?" It was a thought - maybe it'd work.

All she had to do was focus on keeping their little world from tearing apart - that was the easy part.

[Velveteen]

Velveteen watched between the front seats as Aksel searched for the torch and when he held it up she climbed out of the front of the vehicle to approach him. She watched as he emptied the batteries from the torch and smiled as he gave her the nod. The he started talking about dawn and she couldn’t help the mild expression of surprise as she strung together more words than she had ever heard him use in one go. She frowned a little as he left the sentence unfinished and wondered what exactly what was going on there. Perhaps she needed to take the time and get to know him a little better. The way the faction kept growing it was sometimes hard to get the one on time with everyone that it required. That would have to change.

Long, purposeful fingers curled about the drive that he laid in her palm and gave him an understanding nod despite not really understanding at all. “Sleep safe, Aksel.” Were the last words she uttered before the soft static in her ear fell dead silent.She looked out over the the river to the buildings that loomed along the opposite banks. The city was pretty at night though she didn’t have much to go on as far as comparisons. She was turned the very same night they got off the plane. But she figured if you have seen one city, you have seen ‘em all and they always looked prettier at night. She brought up her hand to eye the flash drive there for a moment before tossing it up and snatching it back. “Time to see if all this has been worth it.” The words muttered to no one as she slammed the back door and made her way inside.

The raven haired vampire spotted her childe first thing and he look like she had caught him deep in thought. The usb was held up and she went straight to the computer and did her thing. It wasn’t the easiest but nor was it the most difficult hack she had done. It wasn’t long before before they had all the information they needed. Names. Addresses. Police reports. Ex boyfriends and their addresses. Family. You name it. Whatever there was to be known about this woman was stored on this drive. More importantly were some vague details of the information she had been given.

The soft electrical illumination of the screen lit up her eyes and her lips moved silently as she read and re-read. The sharp edges of her teeth scraped thoughtfully over her lower lip as she considered the new information. So they thought they knew what zombies were. While there was no mention of vampires, Velveteen wasn’t so sure that this was something that should be made public...yet. Or should it? While what they had so far was vague it was enough and either way the government were all about getting this information back and silencing the reporter asap.

She could feel Remington close by and she was sure he was reading as well. She wondered what he made of it though before she even asked she closed her eyes and attempted to track the woman, to no avail. That worried her even more and there were very few reasons that a human would be untrackable. Velveteen had her theories but none of them were good. Several moments were spent talking to Remi before he called it a night and she was aware that Nix had already left. Trust that lot to leave her with the mess. The jacket she wore was shrugged off as she entered the room and eyed the pudgy human tied to the chair. It looked like he had been flayed in places and while it wouldn’t kill him it had to hurt like a mother ******.

Her jacket was tossed over the back of a nearby chair as she got to work. Some strong sedatives, a tonne of crude stitches and an hour or so later and he was back in one piece and would spend the next day, at the very least, unconscious. They may well kill him but to leave him like that was just….inhumane. She might have been a ***** but she wasn’t a complete monster. Once he was secured the small room off to the side she locked the door from the outside. her limbs felt lead weights as she made her way to the small bathroom to wash off the blood before sending a quick text to her husband and settling down on the nearby couch for sleep. Sleep that came all too easily and far too soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun beat down and the sand beneath her was warm. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and as the waves broke against the shore they would send a colling a salty mist that clung to her skin like a lover’s caress. She was laughing and when she rolled her head to the side her eyes swept over that familiar face that she loved more than life itself. She knew it was a dream. The sun, the beach. Both fragments of a life long since gone, having seen neither for near on four, dark years now. But in her dreams the impossible was possible. Those things she had felt cheated off were still able to be obtained in the subconscious realms of her dreams. There was so much she wished she could have shared with him.

Golden grains of sand fell through her fingers and gathered in a small pile on his stomach. They were talking though she wasn’t sure about what. Just a stolen moment of nothing but togetherness in a place that was no longer a part of her present. If anyone were watching they would have noticed the flicker of a smile that danced across her lips. He was her happy place. Her dream world shifted and out of nowhere dark, heavy storm clouds came rolling in from the horizon with unnatural speed. Darkness danced on the edge of her vision as she clung to her husband. No. Not yet. Just a little longer was all she asked. Lightning pierced the darkness and thunder rolled across the sky, shaking the earth beneath her so abruptly that she suddenly found herself on her feet.

Fingers stretched into the inky depths of nothingness in search of him but came back empty. She couldn’t see and for a moment she panicked. Complete and utter darkness was one thing that scared her. As much as she loved photography at school, the darkroom was disconcerting too disconcerting. So dark that she couldn’t see her hand held up right in of her face. It made her uncomfortable then, just as it did now. She was certain she called his name but even sound couldn’t fight the heavy blanket of shadows that had encased her. Just as she had anticipated that her dream was about to become a nightmare a soft glow appeared off in the distance and began to grow as she was suddenly propelled towards it.

Gun fire and the cold, trusty metal in her hands felt more familiar and the lump of mutated flesh that fell at her feet provided a comfortable foundation. Disappointed lingered on the edges of her sleeping mind but perhaps if she finished here, she could find her way back to the beach and her husband. Figures moved in her peripheral and she spun on the spot, lining one of them up to embed several bullets into them before they got any closer. Her finger squeezed the trigger instinctively but upon realising it was Nix she kicked her gun back at the last second causing the bullet to simply fall from the end of the gun and roll across the stone floor. Anything was possible in a dream.

When Nix started talking Velveteen couldn’t help but laugh. She could see the redhead’s mouth move but there was no sound. Instead, as she spoke the words actually came out of her mouth , like a dancing alphabet and hung, suspended in the air for a moment before bursting like bubbles. Velveteen reach out to poke one and when it burst there was another sudden shift. Remington and Aksel came into view and she could hear what Nix was saying. Stuff about the reporter and being pulled into a dream. Micah had done that once but it was different. She felt like an observer…..here she was a part of the dream?

“Keys!” Vel cried in response as if she knew exactly what the other woman was talking about and took off like a banshee with a bug up her arse to shoot up the place. The titans popped like the words had earlier but instead of dissolving they kinda exploded. Rotting flesh and random body parts sticking to everything it came in contact with. Velveteen grimaced as her boots began to sink into the muck up to her knees. One of the fucked up beasts launched at her and she fired off another round. It burst in motion covering her in mooncalf bits and pieces but that was not her focus. The shining key that spun through the air in slow motion seemed drawn to her as she held up her hand and waited for it to come to her, had her full attention.

[Aksel]

Numb.

Nothing.

Blood ran down his arm in thick, crimson rivers as the knife protruded from his palm, the blade bursting through the back of his hand, between the bones. He couldn’t feel it. That fire, that purifying flame of agony that would, that should shoot up his arm, consuming his every thought… it was completely absent.

The scene shifted.

He stood in the parking lot that overlooked the beach. It was a cool, misty morning. The first thing he felt, since falling into the deep sleep was the icy blast of wind that cut through his shirt as he stood there in silence. The door to the Porsche was in his hand, the cabin in front of him was red. Everything he could see was red. Dripping. Gore coated every surface inside the car.

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe.

His youngest sister’s lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling of the car. She wore a bigger smile than he had ever seen on her, stretching ear to ear, just as red as the rest of his car.

The wide, empty blues were almost white. Long, black strands of perfect, straight hair stuck to her face, sticky with blood and sweat and the salty mist. Her small frame slumped in the leather seat, her open throat still leaking blood. Both doors were popped open, whoever was responsible was long gone. He hadn’t seen a soul.

“You failed me.” The corpse hissed, the voice breathless, hoarse. The head turned, the pale eyes flicking to him. “This is your fault!” she tried to scream, the gash in her throat making the sound more a harsh, strangled whisper. “YOU DID THIS!”

Her arms shot out, reaching up for him and grasping the black cotton of his shirt.

The moment she touched him, the world shifted again. The familiar, gnawing nightmare vanished.

The shifting scenes hardly disoriented him. He was accustomed to the quick, sporadic shifts of his dreams. They were often disjointed, almost random sequences of equally nightmarish scenes. This time, he stood in a room, far too familiar. His rifle rested light in his hands. He stood in silence, listening to the explanation. He could only assume something of the very nature. Never did he see anything in his dreams that brought him an ounce of comfort, a flicker of reprieve from the agony of his nightmares. Seeing the three faces with him, he knew that the dream was no longer his.

Without a word, he nodded, the gesture curt, quick. He had been pulled from his nightly penance, his ritual of absorbing the absolute anguish of his nightmares was disturbed. He was far from pleased with the interruption, but with the explanation, he understood that there was a task to be undertaken. He understood that he had a job, and he would never complain. He turned, chambering the first round into his rifle and stepped away from the group. They were loud. Aggressive. They were in-your-face, guns blazing. He was a more reserved style. He edged himself into the edge of the room, watching as Velveteen slaughtered several of the monstrosities in a single sweep. He would admit, her power was impressive.

He had a different approach. Slowly, he lifted his rifle, and glanced through the scope. Watching, he inspected several of the beasts. He could see their colossal, nightmarish husks shambling slowly, aimlessly about the dark room. He thumbed the safety with a quiet click. There were several of the ghastly giants. Each of them uniquely assembled. He waited, watching for one small detail to set one apart from the other random amalgamations of flesh. A glint flashed in his scope and he pulled the trigger once. The rifle whispered, the leather strap fell from around the behemoth’s neck with a ring against the floor. The creature stumbled, listing lazily to one side before it collapsed in a heap, a heavy boom filled the room as the flesh sagged limply before falling still.

He pulled the bolt of the rifle back, ejecting the shell and placing it into his pocket. He stepped forward, reaching down to take the demon’s lost hoard and tucking it neatly into place beside the expended shell.

Objective complete.

“Ready.” he said icily, his rifle resting against his shoulder again as he took up his previous spot on the wall, awaiting the others’ successful collection of their keys.

[Remington Rothfelder]

Phoenix handed him the key. Maybe she didn’t need one to get to the next floor? That made sense, he supposed. The place was her dream, if he understood the whole thing correctly, so everything inside of it was essentially her. The physical projection she made of herself, the humanoid aspect, was little more than an illusion. Phoenix herself was the master of the dream world into which they had stepped, and she likely could have taken on some sort of omniscient role if she’d really wanted. But the last thing any of them really needed was for her to go all voice of god on them. Because creepy. He felt vaguely ashamed that he hadn’t handled his own beast. The last thing he wanted was to be the weak link in their group. And yet that was precisely the role he had played.

The fae. Remington had very little experience with those, but they had something to do with magic and rituals, and stuff like that. He had a hard time grasping abstract concepts at times. Which wasn’t to say that he lacked in the department of intelligence. He just related better to things that were both physical and practical. If he could see how to do something with his own two hands, he could grasp it almost immediately. One of the reasons he’d become something of a legend in the MMA arena was his gift for picking up muscle memory very quickly. He could watch movement, emulate it, and devote it to his body in an exceptionally short period of time. It was his one little gift, really. The only thing he was exceptional at.

“We need to move quickly then. She might wake up at any time.” Though he supposed that didn’t really need to be said. Everyone was well aware of the situation, and now that they knew more about the exact reason for tracking the woman down…except not all of them knew. So while Velveteen and Aksel focused on ripping through titan after titan, he continued in an even and low tone. For some reason, he was not worried about any of them being able to hear him. Of course, the information was nothing new to Bambi, but he doubted Nix had the full details, and Aksel had been forced to duck out early to get some rest. “The reporter got some information about the zombies, and we assume, by association, information about the rift in veil. While she does not have information about vampires, it’s something of a sliding scale. They get too close to our direction and it puts everyone in danger of discovery. While their information has not been confirmed, we need to get our hands on the reporter and whatever she has so that it can be handled accordingly.” Of course, how it was to be handled was entirely in the hands of their leader, he just wanted to be sure that everyone was on the same page.

He suspected that Vel would correct him if he were, at all, incorrect.

Soon, everyone had a key. He suspected they were going to have to find a door after that, which was the normal protocol for a raid. Find the key, find the door, move onto the next floor. Rinse and repeat. But the moment Aksel got his hand on one of the keys, the floor began to shimmer and then the acquired loot systematically disappeared, first the one in his hands, then the one in Vel’s. Finally Aksel’s key melted into nothing. With each passing object, lines of light flowed across the floor, slowly forming something, a flat image that looked a bit like a ladder with long strips and smaller slats that ran its length. By the very last key reclamation, the thing was vertical, a three dimensional staircase that led up into the darkness. He hadn’t noticed it before, but it looked like it went up into the night sky. He heard laughter, a woman’s, the sound as sweet as cherries. Just like her lips. He recognized it and put thoughts of her out of his mind.

“Let’s go.” He wanted to get away from his own dreams as quickly as possible, so he began the trip up the steps. “Bambi, maybe you could focus on something from the girl’s past, like a necklace or something she may have worn and project that through mindspeak into her head so we have something to focus on when we go searching?” He requested. Every step took him closer and closer to the stars, and when he finally was close enough to reach out and touch them, he had this irrational urge to do absolutely nothing other than grasp one in his palm. He reached and squeezed. It didn’t burn. He was teleported immediately though, into a long and narrow hallway that went on as far as the eye could see in every direction. There were doors upon doors, all of them numbered and mostly uniform in appearance.

What.

What was this?

[Phoenix]

Holding the dream together was more effort than Phoenix had anticipated. While she waited, she tried to focus on the rooms, the layout, and every other detail, large or small, that made the dream tangible; visualization was the key here, and without it, the world would collapse, shunting each of them back off into their own, lonely little minds. Anytime her thoughts drifted, for more than a moment, the lights flickered and the fabric of the reality started to warp and tear, the wood and stone mesh of the walls fraying at the seams like an overused quilt. Somehow, she managed to keep it together while while Remi expounded on what she already, partially, knew.

Time here was a distorted thing, that she knew - a dream could last a second, but feel like an eternity. That was the hope that remained unsaid... hopefully, they'd catch Jackie in the last minutes of her slumber, just as her mind was churning out the last dreams of the night. The could slip in a subtle hint. A clue. Some lead a journalist would feel compelled to follow, and then hope that she would make herself known to them.

Somehow, Phoenix held their world together while her team carried out their task; really, it was the visualization aspect of them having keys that would allow her to carry them from place to place. While she waited, she toyed with her own key, ever present around her neck in these dreams on its long, golden chain. Once the others were set, she nodded to Remi and then to the set of stairs that lead up. While focusing on the moment, she hadn't thought much about what happened beyond, so the stars seeming to come down to greet them was a product of... She glanced between them and then shrugged. It didn't matter whose they were, so long as they acted as the gateway they needed to. When Remi reached out, she closed her eyes focused.

The shift between worlds was as quick as a blink, and suddenly the group was standing in that long, empty hall. Once, perhaps, the hall would have been considered grand, but time had taken its toll. Where they could be seen beneath the fog creeping out from under the numbered doors, the once splendid marble floors were chipped, cracked, and stained with all matter of things Phoenix did not wish to dwell on too long. Tendrils of some unknown vine crept down from the remnants of a collapsed ceiling. Visible through the overhead cracks was a network of glowing fibers, interwoven almost like spider webs - the hall's only source of eerily dark light.

Phoenix pressed her hand to one of the decrepit walls, carefully studying it before attempting to replace a section of the peeling Victorian wallpaper. As soon as it was touched, the paper burst into flame, shriveled and crumbled into a fine ash. Interesting.

"Give me a second... I'll try to narrow this down..." Closing her eyes, Phoenix focused on what lay behind each door. She'd appraised Jacqueline before collapsing into her bed, so she had a sense of the woman's aura. It took longer than she would have liked for the algorithm of her mind to rule out the doors that would lead to vampires, fae, men, children, the elderly, the mentally infirm, and anyone whose presence felt wrong for what she'd sensed earlier. Slowly but surely, after each calculation - and with a bit of help from her real-world computer - the number of doors decreased. The hallways still went on as far as the eye could see, but there were only a fraction of the doors dotting its length. Still, a daunting task, but feasible.

"Okay... I... narrowed it down to ones that fit the reporter's aura. If Vel's thinking at her, hopefully that will make something in her brain stand out. I need to focus on keeping the search area narrowed, so you guys scout the dreams - don't split up, though; I don't think I can maintain much more than what I'm already doing, and whatever you do, don't shut the door behind you when you go in - one of you should guard the door, two scout." Giving orders felt rather strange with Vel right there, but this was her domain and she knew the score. It was probably for the best. "Don't let anything from the dreams back into the hallway."

Oblivious to the redhead, a thought bubble appeared over her, spelling out. 'I really don't want to have to deal with anyone else's dream ********. We totally don't need flying monkeys whizzing around here... or Godzilla... Pancakes would be nice, though.'