Natural Born Killer

[Micah]

It was chaos.

Several things happened at once. Micah dropped his bombshell, Truman’s wife lost her **** and Vel blew in through the door like a category five hurricane. Only she didn’t look like herself. She looked like Truman. For the first time since he had laid eyes on her Micah was disgusted by her appearance. This wasn’t how she was supposed to look. His wife was beautiful, with long black hair and eyes a shade of silver he’d never seen on another until meeting her. She looked nothing like that now. All he could do was stare at her, absolutely horrified but completely certain that there was a reason for her current appearance.

He was right.

The box that was handed to him was handed with a familiar hand. At some point she’d regained her normal appearance and for that he was grateful. Micah didn’t want to take it. A heavy ball of dread started to form in the pit of his stomach, laying there like an immovable stone. He looked at Vel, then over at Truman who had gone a shade of green at the appearance of the box. The killer’s eyes narrowed and suddenly he knew what it was. This box...this was what Vel had taken from the doctor’s room. This was what he had been freaking out about when Micah strolled into that room like he owned it. Whatever this was, it was extremely damaging and Truman didn’t want anyone to ever see it.

“What else could there possibly be?” As if sleeping with unconscious patients and killing people wasn’t bad enough, here was Vel trying to tell him that it was worse than he had thought? How was that even possible? Her words didn’t make any sense to him though they were spoken to him in a clear, completely lucid tone. Just open the box. Open it. Find out for yourself what she’s talking about. That nagging voice in the back of his mind popped up and refused to quiet. The only way to get it to go quiet was to listen.

Micah opened the box.

The first thing he saw was a yellowed piece of paper written in a distinctive hand that he would know anywhere. That same hand that had signed school permission slips, filled out emergency contact forms for school, written excuses when he was sick, left him notes every night she had to work late. Savannah’s hand. It was like a punch to the gut. Seeing his mother’s handwriting on something that had been in Truman’s possession made him sick, but he was starting to understand. Bunny hadn’t gotten everything which was by no means her fault. It’s kind of hard to get your hands on something that you didn’t know existed. Whatever was in this box, whatever secrets Savannah had written down were here, in a place that Truman thought was safe. How wrong he was.

Hands shaking, he very carefully pulled out the yellowed piece of paper and unfolded it with reverence. For the first time in 20 years Micah allowed himself to feel the loss he should have felt when he was fifteen. His hatred for the doctor sitting in the middle of that macabre circle of corpses grew to new heights, and once he was done reading that page he was livid. It rolled off of him in waves and it took every single ounce of his substantial self control to stop himself from flying across the room and ending Truman. **** the game. It didn’t matter any longer. His mother had been curable. She could have fought, and she could have won but thanks to Truman she never had a chance. His wife’s words echoed in his mind. Truman would die for this certainly but he needed to finish going through the box.

Once he discovered the deed and the power of attorney he completely understood. Truman needed to sign everything over to him before he died otherwise, Micah would lose Savannah’s estate. With a calm he didn’t feel Micah carefully placed the box on the floor and stood. “So, it wasn’t enough to kill her. You had to steal the inheritance that was rightfully mine? How ******* dare you, Truman? That farmhouse has been in my family for generations. It belongs to ME. It belongs to my daughter. Who the **** do you think you are to coerce my mother into giving it to you??”

Truman snorted and refused to answer. Micah honestly hadn’t expected him to. Moving across the room, he picked up a sledgehammer that had been leaning in the corner. With a practiced ease he swung it once, then once more, shattering the doctor’s kneecaps. Truman bit clean through his tongue, but refused to scream regardless of the agony he was in. “That was tame. And it was only a small taste of what I am going to do to you. But first? You’re going to sign that **** back over to me. It’s the least you can do.” Micah returned to the box and gathered a set of blank forms that would do just that. Why Truman would keep something like that around he didn’t know but it was his saving grace. Otherwise, he’d have to delay the festivities to get what he needed and Micah wasn’t feeling all that charitable.

“And if I don’t?”

Of course. Defiant even in the face of death. “Then I’m going to take all of this information to the press. I’m going to give it to them, and they will have a field day. Your name will be ruined. Your career that you worked so hard for will be destroyed, and the only thing you’ll be remembered as will be Dr. Curtis Truman, pervert and murderer. It won’t only destroy you, it will destroy your entire family for generations and I will personally deliver all of this sordid information to every single member of your family.” Micah held out the papers and a pen. "Now, ******* sign them.”

[Velveteen]

Silence descended on the room as Micah started reading. Velveteen knew that an explosion was imminent was she certain that the things he was about to see were going to have a much more profound effect on her husband. Maybe not immediately, the anger would definitely be the first experienced but still. Silver orbs never left his face though she slowly moved around the outer edges of the circle of corpses. Her hand dragged along behind her as it trailed across the shoulders of the gathered dead with an almost tender touch. None of it was their fault. Just more innocents caught up in the filthy web of their employer. She was fairly sure that had they known the truth...they would likely still be going about their lives. This many people dead or missing was going to be hard to hide. The vampire had no doubt that between her and her husband they would come up with some semi believable set up that would imply a far more believable reason.

Humming. She could hear humming, soft and melodic and without realising she had started humming too. It wasn’t a tune that she recognised but it seemed somehow soothing and so she hummed as if consoling the angry souls of those whose corpses now sat slumped like rag dolls at a tea party.

Velveteen watched the myriad of emotions that were expressed on the Killer’s face as he continued to read all that she had brought. All except the letter of course. That she had withheld, just for now. She hadn’t had a chance to make Levi a copy yet and well...somethings were just better done in private. She couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different had Levi had gotten that letter all those years ago. Maybe. But then maybe not. It would be a question that would ever remain unanswered.

What came next was no real surprise and she winced both times the that the sledge hammer met the doctors knees, obliterating the bone beneath. That had to hurt. She was disappointed that no screams followed and she looked up to see that the doctor’s young wife had at some point passed out. Another innocent really. There was a fleeting moment of sympathy for the woman but what was done was done.

She had reached the end of the circle and decided to occupy the only empty chair in the room. One leg was crossed over the other and she sat forward resting her elbow on her knee and supporting her chin with the heel of her hand. A mischievous grin adorned her lips. The more Curtis resisted the worse it was gonna be and she had a front row seat. She couldn’t help but perk up with a spark of excitement as her husband threatened to expose him to the world. In fact, perhaps that was another little bartering chip they could use.

“Mmmm….yes. I am sure Paul and Francine would love to know about their dear ole dad. In fact….Maybe we should bring them here?” She sat up and dug around in the deep pocket of the dress pants to retrieve her phone. If looks could kill Vel would have been dead.

“You leave them out of this. They have done nothing to you. Nothing. YOU HEAR ME?”

“Ohhh I think we might have hit a nerve. A person’s innocence never stopped you from destroying their life now did it?” Velveteen began to dial a random number. She had no idea how to contact either of his children, though it wouldn’t take her long to find out if needed. “Let’s see if Francine is home...shall we? A family emergency. I am sure the news of dad being in hospital will bring them running.” She put the phone to ear and appeared to wait only to make a sound of disappointment as she pulled it away. “Answering machine. Perhaps Paul will answer….”

She stood and wandered closer to where Micah stood. A few more random numbers were pushed and the phone was placed flat against her husband’s chest. “Maybe you should do this one.” She said with a playful wink, he would know her game as soon as he looked at her phone. “I really need to get out these clothes. I think I will leave you to it for now. I won't be long.” The look she gave him spoke a thousand words, and she knew without a doubt that he would know every single of one of them.

Velveteen headed for the door but stopped dead in her tracks and spun on her heel to confront the doctor. Her eyes no longer the usual silver but much darker, almost black as she pinned Curtis with a hateful glare. Her face twisted in a way that made her look almost unrecognisable and her shoulders hunched over, and when she spoke….the voice that came out was very distinctly not her own. “I have been waiting for you Curtis. We all have. You always were such a self centred, spoilt little prick. I was your mother! You sick ****. You brought me nothing but shame.”

As suddenly as it had come on it had disappeared leaving Vel none the wiser. A moment of confusion registered on her once again smooth features and she frowned. “Oh right. Clothes. That was...weird.” She completely missed the look of fear and shock on Truman’s face as she blew a kiss at Micah and exited as if nothing had happened.

[Micah]

Quiet humming caught his attention. His brow furrowed at the sound. The tune was familiar to him and he knew he’d heard the melody before several times but he couldn’t quite place it. Micah was almost positive that it was something that Savannah used to hum when he was a child and if that was the case where did his wife hear it, and why was she humming it out of the blue the way that she was? He filed it away for later scrutiny - there were more pressing matters for him to attend to.

Truman was yelling, demanding that his children be left alone. Micah shook his head. Didn’t the doctor understand by now? No one was safe. It didn’t matter if they’d done nothing wrong. He would use anything and everything to achieve the maximum amount of damage to Truman including his so called innocent children that Micah didn’t think were all that innocent. A man as sick as Truman clearly was couldn’t hide his crazy forever. Someone, somewhere, had to know and if the wife didn’t then perhaps the children did. Something to check into and if they were part of it then they’d receive the same treatment as their father. It was time to end Truman’s entire line before they could contaminate the rest of society with their sickness.

Realizing he’d been silent for too long, he inserted himself into the conversation as he took the phone Vel had pressed against his chest. “I find your concern for your children...touching Truman.” His eyes followed Vel as she started to leave but what happened next killed anything he might have wanted to add.

Micah had never pressed Vel about her...gift. He knew that she had been able to communicate with the dead when she was human. A medium, for lack of a better term. Most didn’t hold much stock in mediums but there were some out there that were firm believers in the ability to contact the spirits of those lost in various ways. He had never been a believer but all that changed once he’d met Vel. The way she spoke of her experiences gave him absolutely no reason to doubt her and he wasn’t about to start now. Especially when, for the first time in over three years, he was seeing that gift in action.

This….this wasn’t his wife. Those black as the dead of night eyes held a rage that looked out of place on her. He’d seen Vel angry plenty of times and had always found the fire in her silver eyes beautiful but this was anything but beautiful. It was rage, pain, betrayal - all things he never thought he’d see reflected in those oh so familiar depths. But it wasn’t just the eyes. It was the posture and the voice. In that moment he understood. The gift that Vel felt was a curse at times, the gift she had worked so hard to keep locked up tight wasn’t locked up any longer. Something, or someone, had triggered it and the spirits that she could communicate with as a human were now using her body as a conduit. They were communicating through her and whoever this was that was currently in control of his wife’s body hated Truman just as much as Micah did.

Truman had gone white and Micah felt slightly ill when he realized that Truman’s mother had made an appearance and was making it clear that she hadn’t escaped the clutches of the sick doctor. He had no words and for several long minutes after Vel left he couldn’t find it in him to say anything.

“She’s a ******* freak.”

His spine stiffened. There was no question on who Truman considered the freak to be. The insult to his wife was clear. Truman meant it. Knowing how many times Vel had heard that when she was a human, and knowing the impact it had on her had him raging all over again. “That freak,” he snarled, “is my wife. And I find it insulting and more than a little hypocritical of you to refer to her as such when you’re the one that used your own mother for your sick and twisted games.” A smirk crossed Truman’s face and it was obvious that he was pleased to have struck a nerve. Don’t let him bait you. That’s what he wants.

“Does the truth hurt Micah? Doesn’t it bother you to know you married a freak?”

The killer had no idea how he remained so calm. On the inside he was livid, rage clawing at his insides begging to be unleashed on the cocky Truman to show him who the freak really was. On the outside he was calm and collected as he moved to the bucket of knives Bunny had left beside the rickety prize wheel. Grabbing two, he crossed the room to stand in front of the doctor. “You’ll apologize for that Truman.” The blades danced over his fingers, and Truman couldn’t take his eyes off of them but even in the face of danger he was defiant.

“Make me.”

Micah gave a nasty sort of grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” With a flick of his wrists he flipped the blades over and buried them in Truman’s legs effectively pinning him to the chair. The scream that was ripped from the doctor’s unwilling throat echoed throughout the room and made the killer grin in satisfaction. “****! I’M SORRY!! SHE’S NOT A FREAK!” The killer leaned in close enough to whisper in Truman’s ear. “I don’t believe you.” The documents were once again produced and slapped against the doctor’s chest. “Now. Sign the ******* documents Curtis. Before I really lose my temper with you.” The doctor nodded and, with a steady hand regardless of the pain he was in, signed his name in the appropriate places. Satisfied, Micah read them over quickly, making sure everything was in order before securing them in a safe place. Once that was done he turned his attention back to the doctor.

“Now the games really begin.”

[Velveteen]

Velveteen was greeted by the warmth of the fire that crackled night and day in their room at Pandemonium. Due the hotel being underground it was prone to be damp and musty as the earth soaked into the old wood that formed the buildings frame. The fire not only provided warmth, as unnecessary as that was, it kept the damp at bay and filled the area with fragrant smoke depending on what sort of wood was being burned. The door swung shut behind her and she immediately began to strip, eager to be in her own clothes. While the whole tailored men’s business attire looked ******* hot on her husband, it wasn’t really her thing. The letter that had been stuffed in her pocket and she looked at the folded envelope in a moment of thoughtfulness. “Soon. Just not yet.” She said to no one before stuffing the letter under her side of the mattress.

“You are right. Now is not the time.”

Velveteen didn’t look up as she sat on the edge of the bed and began to remove her boots. The words more a thought and a sense of reassurance than anything actually spoken though she had come to recognise that presence as the one who had been with her now for the last few hours. Savannah. The Necromancer was not sure how she felt about this. Not at all. Nor had she been allowed the time to actually give it any serious thought. There would be plenty of time for that later, well that was she thought though that small comfort was dashed almost immediately.

“You need to prepare yourself. They have sensed you already.”

The vampire arched a brow and sat back as she pulled of her boots and set them aside wasting not a moment longer before stripping. She would have them returned to Scott after having them cleaned. “I’m not ready for that. They will have to wait.” She looked up to find the small, dark haired woman standing near the fire. Her violet eyes shimmered with an unnatural brightness and if Velveteen didn’t know better she would actually think she was a live ,walking ,talking person. Her brow furrowed a little. They had never appeared so….real. She decided it was the connection the Micah and the current situation that gave Savannah the energy to manifest herself so full.

“The gate is open. You cannot close it now.”

She laughed and nodded her head as she pulled a t-shirt on. That was the sort of answer she was use to from those on the other side. Cryptic puzzles that she was forced to interpret. While it wasn’t as confusing as some of the communications she had received in the past it still reminded her of days long since gone. She opened her mouth to speak was interrupted by a loud scream that seeped into the earthen floors below her. A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth though she leaned forward to scoop up a small silver pill box from the drawers. She used to to keep vapour rub which she used to allay the bloodlust that possessed her at the most inappropriate times. Once the camphor and menthol went to work she knew she would be reasonably ok and not spoil whatever plans Micah had. The small pill box was snapped shut and stuffed into the pockets of the skin tight, black jeans that she had poured herself into. A black t-shirt was pulled over her head and she turned to face the image of her mother-in-law almost defiantly. She hated being told she couldn’t do something and this was no exception. “We shall see about that.”

Savannah turned her head as if hearing something beyond the realms of Vel’s abilities and she nodded before turning those ethereal orbs back to the vampire who watched her curiously. A sad smile played across her shimmering features before she turned and and simply vanished. That last bit had confused her, she was certain there was a message in the woman’s expression that for whatever reason remained unspoken for now. Velveteen shrugged it off and made her way out of the room and back down to the basement area. Like everything else at the moment it would be given more thought later. Priorities.

She stepped through the door just in time to here her husband announce that the games were about to begin. “Does that mean he passed the qualifying rounds then?” She smirked and took up her place not far Micah. As she had expected the the blade protruding from the doctor’s thigh was stained red as blood was being soaked up by the threads of his pants. She winced a little and made a small clicking sound as her tongue was sucked against the side of her teeth. “Oh that looks painful.” A hand came up as she pointed over her shoulder to the woman still hanging from the wheel behind her. “And what about her Babe. Maybe we should just keep her for now. I imagine all this torture is going to make for thirsty work.”

[Micah]

As per the norm, he felt her presence before he heard the sound of her voice. “The good doctor here has made it to the final round. I don’t think he appreciated the prize he got though.” Micah gestured at the knives protruding from each of the doctor’s legs. Truman’s complexion had taken on a waxy tone and the pain he was currently experiencing was reflected in his too bright eyes. The doctor looked defeated, almost accepting of the fate that he instinctively knew was lying in wait for him but he came alive again when he realized that Vel was speaking about Lily.

“Don’t ******* touch her you ******* freak!”

The killer turned to stare at Truman. “Truman, haven’t you realized by now that I hold all the cards here? Not only are you tied to the chair but you’re also pinned there. You’re entire security detail is dead, I have your wife and I now hold all the keys to your destruction. Do you honestly think that you’re in any position to tell me or my wife what we should and shouldn’t do?” Truman opened his mouth to protest but the sudden appearance of a blade pressed against the underside of his tongue silenced him. “Another words from you without permission and I will sever your tongue from your mouth. Am I clear?” Rapid nodding from the good doctor and Micah pulled the blade back.

Micah studied the unconscious redhead. It was a shame really. She was innocent. Her only crime was marrying Truman thus sealing her fate. She’d seen far too much in order to be allowed to remain alive. He could keep her captive, let her live underneath the hotel but he didn’t have the time or patience to take care of her and there was always going to be the possibility of escape. Best to just kill her and get it over with. “Kill her. I care not.” And he didn’t. She was just in the way and he didn’t want any loose ends coming back to bite him in the ***. Vel was more than capable of dealing with Lily, so he’d leave her to it.

Returning to his chair the killer retrieved the stack of meticulously kept notes on his mother’s so called treatment. The room was silent while he read. He didn’t understand any of this but he was able to figure out that Savannah was more or less poisoned with arsenic. The wheels in his head started to turn as a plan slid into place. It wouldn’t be the messy, bloody death that he had originally planned but what he was thinking would work so much better. Snapping the folder closed he returned it to the box and moved his chair closer to Truman. “It’s your lucky day Curtis. I’ve decided that you’ll live to see tomorrow.” Truman’s shoulders slumped, visibly relieved. Micah could almost guess what he was thinking - that just maybe his conscious had gotten the better of him and he was going to grant Curtis mercy. “You’ll still die, but in a much more fitting way.”

Arsenic Trioxcide had been Truman’s choice of drug to feed Savannah under the guise of treating her cancer. But he had no intention of treating her and instead had injected toxic amounts of arsenic into her until she was too far gone to help. Micah had had to sit there and watch the vibrant woman he’d known his entire childhood waste away right before his eyes. He’d never forget the way she looked when she finally breathed her last. The image was imprinted onto his brain.

What better way for Truman to go than to use the same methods he used on Savannah?

“Vel.” He spoke to get his wife’s attention. “I’m sure with your connections you can get your hands on a fairly large amount of Arsenic Trioxide for me yes?” At the mention of the drug Truman’s head shot up and Micah could see that the final piece of the puzzle had fallen into place for him. The killer smiled. “I see you understand now Curtis. What better way for you to die than to use the same method you used on my mother? Fitting that you’ll experience what she did. Only instead of having every modern convenience available to ease your pain you will have nothing. Once a day Bunny will bring you water, and some bread. That will be the only connection you have to the outside world until you finally succumb to the poison I will be injecting you with.”

“You’re insane,” Truman whispered. “Your mother would be horrified if she could see you now.”

Micah shrugged. “Maybe so, but thanks to you she's not. I’ll never know how she feels about any of this. She’ll never get the chance to meet my wife. She’ll never get the chance to meet her granddaughter. She’ll never get the chance to grow old, and die a peaceful death at an old age because you took that from her. She may hate me for this but it sure as **** makes me feel better to know that you’ll suffer in the same way that she did.”

He stood and went to retrieve the box. No way was that staying anywhere near Truman. “Game over. I win ***********.”

[Velveteen]

Freak. As if that wasn’t a word that she heard a million times, maybe more, in her life. Velveteen had long since learned to embrace her differences and accepted the supposed insult as more a compliment of her uniqueness. Most just didn’t understand and that was their fault. Not hers. Her eyes narrowed slightly and the silvery irides danced with wicked delight as her husband put his new toy in it’s place. A frightened glance was aimed at her and she threw the asshole a wink. “Better a freak than a corpse I’d say. But to each their own.” Her words more than likely going unheard as Micah captured his full attention once more. Once their little conversation was finished and she was given the go ahead to kill the wife she clapped like a delighted child. It had been so long since she had fed from anything but a rubbery bag and she was very much looking forward to the prospect.

The vampire had moved closer to the woman in question and lifted a pale hand to twirl her finger through the coppery strands and listened the soft rhythmic beating of her heart. The sound was almost hypnotic and she was already imagining the taste of the redheads blood, warm and fresh, as it flowed over her tongue, smooth and welcome.

The sound of her name pulled her from her excite contemplations and she tried to absorb what had just been said. Her hand fell away and came to her side as she took several steps toward her husband and nodded. “I imagine so though I don’t think you will need a huge amount. Arsenic poisoning and the infections that I imagine are sure to set in…” She waved her hand towards the doctor in reference to the wounds he now sported…”Will do him in in no time I imagine.”

The vampire’s smile would have been unsettling to most. A sad , sympathetic type expression that one would offer one who just found out they were dying, though usually it would be from natural causes.

At the mention of her husband’s mother she opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut as Micah beat her to it. Finally it occurred to her to wonder how he would feel about knowing that his mother was indeed around and watching everything and had been all along. The possibility furrowed her brow as she considered what she could do. Speak up now or later, the latter seeming the best course of action...that was until he mentioned the possibility that she might hate him for what he was doing. Velveteen sidled a little closer to him as he moved away from Truman, though made sure that he heard easily what was being said.

“You need to know that your mother loves you, always has and always will. She doesn’t hate you for this….” he paused, knowing that the next few words were going to let the cat out of the bag. “In fact, she is rather delighted that the truth is out and that soon he will be forced to….Pay the piper so to speak.” A curious glance was directed at Truman even though it was obvious that her words were directed at Micah. “Apparently there is quite a few waiting for him on the other side and none of them are happy.”

Velveteen pressed her lips together and waited, certain there would be questions though she found it hard to ignore what her mother-in-law had told her earlier about it being too late. It seemed that somewhere in the back of her mind Velveteen figured if she...restricted interaction then she would be able to control it but by the same she also knew that Savannah was going to have a lot more that she needed to say when this done.

“Tell him I am here. I have always been here.”

Velveteen stiffened a little as the woman appeared in her peripheral. The raven coloured stands fell about her face as she shook her head. “No.” Her word barely audible in an attempt to keep at least her side of the conversation secret perhaps? She shook her head again, this time adamantly.

“He needs to know. Curtis will infect him with doubt. I want him to know.

Again Velveteen shook her head and moved so that Savannah’s spectral image was beyond her line of vision. As if not seeing her would force the woman to withdraw. She was being stubborn even as she tried to be discrete is was obvious that something was going on. “She told me so herself.” Another attempt at hiding what had just happened...just in case anyone had noticed.

“Tell him. Now!”

Velveteen winced and turned to once again spy the petite woman who stepped forward and swung angrily at the box in her son’s hand. Moving anything took a lot of energy but Savannah was carrying years of anger that manifested itself with little effort, and the box that had been in her husband’s hands fell to the floor despite no obvious interference. Perhaps if she didn’t say anything...It was something she contemplated though it seemed the mother was just as stubborn as the son. The muscles about Vel’s jaw twitched as she clenched her teeth together defiantly. “Your mother says hello.” She intoned disapprovingly, glaring at the woman who had forced her hand.

[Micah]

He hadn’t even considered infections. While it hadn’t been part of his plan, he had to admit that the possibility of even more suffering on Truman’s part was very appealing. Micah tilted his head to the side as he took stock of Truman’s injuries. Bullet to the thigh, two shattered kneecaps, gouges from where the wire had cut into him and of course, the two stab wounds that were still bleeding somewhat sluggishly. Leaving the knives in had probably helped stem the flow of the blood. Good. They could remain there until Truman took his final breath. “Do you think you can get that for me? I’d like to start his torture as soon as I possibly can.” Truman started to breath heavily and his heart started to race. The good doctor knew he was in for a painful end and was starting to panic but there was no way out. Not this time. His misdeeds had finally caught up with him.

Micah had expected that Vel would have gone to get what he needed before he had even asked but that wasn’t the case. As she spoke he could only stand there and stare at her as told him about the things Savannah had said. “No. Don’t...just don’t ******* do that to me Vel.” He wanted to deny what she was saying, didn’t want to believe that his wife had been in contact with his mother because the idea that Savannah had contacted Vel wasn’t something he ever considered. Truman, however, sensed his uncertainty and seized it.

“Look at you Micah. Just the mere thought that your mother is speaking from her grave through a charlatan has you all kinds of fucked up.” Curtis started laughing and the sound grated on Micah’s nerves. His fingers curled around the box of evidence as he fought to control his temper. Truman, sensing weakness, continued spewing his poison in an attempt to turn the game in his favor. “Should I tell you how she begged me not to kill her? How she begged to be allowed to live so she could see you grow up? I’ll tell you a secret.” Truman’s voice dropped a few octaves but the satisfaction in his tone couldn’t be faked or missed. “She never had a chance. I would have killed her regardless if she had discovered my secrets or not.”

“Shut up Truman.”

Curtis laughed again and Micah cursed to himself. He was giving the doctor what he wanted - a reaction. Truman wanted Micah to doubt Vel and he was doing anything and everything he could to get a rise out of the killer. And he was allowing Truman to succeed. No more. Micah had heard enough. “Your words are doing nothing but moving your death up. How stupid can you be to tell me those things? Do you think that it’s going to get you out of this? It’s not. Your path was set the second you set foot in this city. Make no mistake about that.” Truman pressed on, continuing with his poisonous words but Micah had tuned him out. His attention was now centered on his wife.

He hadn’t missed the quiet no that she had spoken and Micah knew for a fact that she wasn’t directing it at him. “Vel? What’s going on? Who told you that?” Was this more of her gift in action? Or was he simply imagining things? He refused to believe it was Savannah. He couldn’t allow himself to think that his mother was actually there in a form that only Vel could see to watch the demise of Truman.

Until the box was knocked from his hands by an unseen force. A powerful one at that. All he could do was stare at Vel. He wanted to rage at her. He wanted to flip the **** out and break **** as he denied his mother’s presence. Vel was clearly irritated by Savannah being there. The look of irritation that twisted her features wasn’t one that he’d seen there very often.

Hello? His mother had said hello? How the **** was he supposed to respond to that? Truman started laughing again, going on and on about what a freak Vel was, goading him into asking for more proof than a mere parlor trick. Unable to stand the sound of Truman’s voice any longer, Micah picked up an old, rusty copper pipe. “I’ve had enough of your words Curtis.” He swung his arm and allowed the pipe to connect with the doctor’s jaw, shattering it. Truman screamed in agony as Micah dropped the pipe. Bending, he picked up the box and held it close to his chest. He wasn’t going to allow it to escape his grasp again.

Bracing himself he turned to give his wife his full attention. “What does she want?”

[Velveteen]

Everything that happened next happened just as she expected it would and right now she resented Savannah for forcing her to reveal the situation despite knowing that the spirits usually had an agenda. There was a reason that Savannah was being so insistent now. A reason that she had revealed herself in this moment. A reason she had kept her presence hidden for so long. The Necromancer knew this, that was usually the way with those on the other side but she had no idea why until they decided to make their reasons know. Sometimes they did even do that. Sometimes they just passed on and she was left none the wiser as to their reasoning. This time, she hoped that did not happen as she would leave more questions than answers in her wake.

Micah’s anger cause her to wince and she dropped her gaze, unable to bare the anger that she knew would be directed at her. She couldn’t blame him one little bit, but instead fixed her glare on the woman who now stood beside her son despite his complete obliviousness to her presence. Velveteen had a feeling that Savannah had spent a lot more time at his side than even she was aware. That thought was a little too unsettling to contemplate at the current time.

The raven haired vampire almost sighed with relief as the sickening crunch of shattering bone met her ears. Truman’s mouth had run away from him and now he was paying the price. He hadn’t fully accepted his fate and was attempting to find any small window to jump through in hopes of changing it. There were different stages that victims went through and Truman hadn’t quite reached the final one. Once the Dr fully accepted that he was going to die he would be far more compliant; Almost eager to be done with it and end his own suffering. Somewhere in the Dr’s mind he still felt that he might escape this alive, despite the complete hopelessness of his situation.

His screams were absorbed by the damp earth that had, over the years, forced it’s way through the cracks and crevices in the buried walls. Mother Nature had begun reclaiming what had been taken from her at the very onset of construction of the building and if given the chance and another century undisturbed, the hotel would eventually become absorbed by the very earth that surrounded it. Just as it absorbed the sounds of his misery right now. The redhead who had passed out early was jarred awake at the sounds, seemingly confused as to where she was for a fleeting moment. Realisation and despair settling upon Lily’s features in the same instant and she hung limply from her bonds. She had given up with in far less time than her husband.

Velveteen sighed at her husband’s question. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to share the response that his mother had provided. Savannah’s anger and bitterness were felt in every thing she shared and it seemed to permeate and radiate throughout the vampire’s very being. It was obvious she was becoming increasingly agitated with the conflicting emotions that warred with her own as she continued to fight the reality the reality of it all. The flood gates had been opened and trying to deny it now was like trying to save a sinking ship with a teaspoon.

“She wants him dead. But...not yet.” Her silver orbs were hidden being pale lids as she concentrated on the messages she was receiving and sharing them in the exact same manner. “She wants him to suffer the same way she has suffered. The same way you have. The same way others have as they played guinea pigs so that he could further his own elevated status. Apparently the ‘breakthroughs’ he has made in his field has been achieved at a very high cost to others. She wants him to watch his downfall. Here before he is forced to face them there.” She opened her eyes and locked eyes with Micah before casting her glance a little to his left. To others it would appear as if she was looking at nothing but air but the what she saw appeared every bit as solid as her own hand. Savannah simply nodded and offered an encouraging smile, urging Vel to continue. “She wants you….us….to take everything from him before he takes his final breath.”

Flashes of images were played in her mind though the thoughts were not her own and she instinctively knew that Savannah was sharing with her. Savannah had her own ideas on how this should happen and Velveteen couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the level of resentment and anger the woman displayed. Savannah had a lot of fight in her and more than enough time to harness and nurture all that negative emotion. Velveteen could tell that she wanted to be free from it just as much as Micah did. She would never find the peace she sought until she let go and while ever Truman continued to thrive and go unexposed that peace would evade her.

One of the livings biggest delusions was that the spirits were forgiving. That once they had passed they left behind all the hatred and anger but nothing could be further from the truth. It followed them. Some were never granted the salvation of being able to release themselves of the emotional rot that infected their very souls and this was Savannah's chance; She was here to make sure she got it.

[Micah]

A myriad of unexpected emotions crossed Micah’s face. He didn’t do emotions. They were a waste of time and they complicated everything so he found it easier to shut himself off from feeling them. The only time he allowed himself to show any sort of emotion was when it came to people he actually gave a **** about, and his wife. More often than not Vel was the only one that he allowed to see through the granite mask he kept up to keep anyone from seeing who he was on the inside.

Anger.

As it always was, it was the one emotion that he had no problem displaying. It was always present and he was comfortable with it. But the things that he needed to express were things that he wasn’t ready for anyone to hear. A glance at Truman had him realizing that the doctor’s hold on consciousness had been lost and he was no longer awake to witness to display that was certain to come. And besides - Micah’s anger at the doctor had been visible from the start.

“Bunny!” The shout brought the thrall in from the adjoining room. “Knock her out and take her with you,” he instructed and watched with amusement as Bunny wheeled the rickety prize wheel out. There was a crack, and a loud cry then silence. One down one to go. “Vel.” He spoke quietly and worked to keep the anger out of his voice. He was angry yes but it wasn’t at her. Never at her, not for this. “Please go get me the drugs. I have no doubt that we will be able to do everything that Savannah wants us to do before I take his life.”

He waited until Vel left and when he was positive she was gone, everything came rushing out like a dam that had given way. “I don’t know if you’re here, or if you’ve attached yourself to Vel and you followed her. I kind of hope you haven’t left and are still here with me because I have so many things that I need to say to you. But I also hope in a way that you’ve followed Vel and you can’t see me now.” His hands curled around the back of the chair that held Jasmine’s corpse. It was quiet for a few minutes, but the silence was shattered as he picked up the chair, corpse and all and flung it across the room. Shards of splintered wood flew in a thousand different directions as the corpse hit the floor, several bones shattered from the force of the impact. “I hate you Savannah. Do you ******* hear me?? I hope you ******* do. I can’t even bring myself to call you mom, or mother or any other variation of the title because you don’t ******* deserve to be addressed that way.” It was the truth. He just hadn’t realized it until he was confronted with the fact that Savannah was lingering on in spirit form.

Another chair flew across the room, followed by another and when he got tired of throwing those he moved on to the tables scattered around the room. Those too were destroyed under the weight of his anger but it didn’t make him feel any better. “You should have ******* told me. I wasn’t a kid. I grew the **** up when you got sick. I had to. I gave up EVERYTHING to ******* care for you and you couldn’t even trust me with the truth.” His fists hit the dirt walls of the room, sending particles of dust and damp earth into the air. When he got tired of using his fists he used his hands to claw at the earth, ripping holes into the damp soil. “Do you have any ******* idea how hard it was for me to sit there and watch you waste away right in front of me? Do you even ******* care? I seriously don’t think that you do. What kind of ******* mother does that **** to her child? A pretty ******* shitty one, I’ll tell you that much.” His destruction continued until his hands were bloody and his body was covered in dirt. “A part of me died when you did. I hope you know that.”

Confusion.

Once the anger had spent itself confusion took over. Since he had destroyed all the furniture in the room save for the chair that Curtis was tied to, he slid down the crumbling wall and sat on the floor. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me Savannah. It doesn’t make any sense. A lot of this doesn’t make sense.” it was easy to admit his confusion and even if she couldn’t answer him it was a relief to get it all off of his chest and get it out in the open. “Why the **** would you give him my birthright? And why the **** would you sign a power of attorney form? Your sister would have been the right choice, at least until I came of age. That house has been in our family for generations. That deed should have never been placed into his murdering hands. This is why I hope you’re hanging around here watching me right now. Because you can give Vel the answers I sure as **** deserve right now.”


Disbelief.

The cycle of emotions continued and the killer was struggling to come to terms with what he had felt and was now experiencing. “I’m struggling here Savannah. I find it hard to believe that you’ve sought my wife out for this particular reason.” His bloody fingers slid into his hair as he tried to make sense of it all. “Why now? I’ve been married for three years. You could have shown yourself long before now. You could have told her all of this ages ago Savannah. So again I have to ask, why now? It doesn’t make any sense and I’m having a hard time believing that you’re here just because you want to witness his destruction.”


How long had she been watching? Had she seen everything he’d done since he’d left Texas?

The only sound in the room was the steady dripping coming from a leaky pipe somewhere above him. He’d have to find that and repair it before the damage got too severe. “How long have you been with me Savannah? Since the night you died? Have you been watching my path to self destruction? I’m curious to know what you think of that. Of what you turned me into. Because the path that I took after you died was all because of you. It’s your fault. Not mine. Not Truman’s. Not Lizzie’s. Yours. How the **** does that make you feel Ma?”


Resentment

The next emotion to come through was something he could easily channel as it was just as potent as the anger he’d felt earlier. “I didn’t intend to take the path that I did the night that I left home. Meeting that woman and taking her up on her offer was a spur of the moment thing. I channeled everything I was feeling into that one single encounter and because of that I found the one way that I could forget about you and everything that you’d done to me. I spit on your teachings. I didn’t give a **** that I wasn’t raised to treat a woman the way that I was treating them. I didn’t ******* care because i hated you then just as I hate you now. I was rebelling and the older I got the worse I got. Until I met Vel. She was and is my salvation and my saving grace. My voice of reason. My one. You should be thanking her for saving me because without her I would have continued on that path until I got tired of it and let me tell you something Savannah. Eternity is a long *** time to fill your nights with meaningless, one night stands.”


Acceptance.

Exhaustion made it’s presence known. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his elbows on his knees. “I know you’re really here. And now that I’ve said everything that I needed to say I can be man enough to tell you that I didn’t mean it. I can tell you that I love you, and that I always will. This wasn’t your fault. I understand why you kept it to yourself. It doesn’t make it better, but I get it.” His hands cradled his head and his shoulders slumped. For the first time since Savannah died he felt peaceful. He hadn’t realized how much he was keeping to himself until he was given the opportunity to let it out, thanks to Vel connecting to Savannah. Now that he had come to terms with everything there was only one thing left to say.

“I’m sorry.”

[Velveteen]

An unsettling silence had settled upon the room and those within it. She watched and waited for her husband to say something...anything. The quiet was making her nervous. She was anticipating that he would indeed be quite pissed and she expected it would be at her. Velveteen tended to say the wrong thing at the wrong time quite often. Her lack of empathy and her remarkable ability to be so completely and utterly blunt and lacking in empathy often had her tripping her over tongue and headlong into trouble. She resisted the urge to wring her hands nervously as she waited. She opened her mouth as if to maybe defend herself but snapped it shut without uttering a single word. The varied emotions that passed over his features was likely only a very small glimpse at what was really going on and and if his anger was a physical thing she would surely be choking on it by now as it hung thick and almost tangible on the dank, still air.

The calm that resided in the words he spoke was almost as unsettling as the silence but it quieted the rising angst within her. The anger that rolled off of him in spades was not directed at her and for that she was grateful though she was still rather annoyed with his mother. It was all too much at once as far as the Necromancer was concerned. She knew her husband well enough to know that much and if he shut down on her now she wasn’t quite sure how she would deal with it. But what happened next was going to be out of her control and all she could do was whatever he needed her to do and right now that was to go get the things he needed. She dipped her head in a short nod of understanding and left the room. Though she expected that Truman was very probably going to be dead by the time she got back.

Velveteen made her way upstairs and stopped by their room where her ID was laying on the dresser from the last time she had been to the Morgue. It had been a while. She should stop in there sometimes but for all the same reasons that her husband had given up tattooing she had put in fewer and fewer appearances at the Morgue. Several moments were taken to sweep her hair up into a messy part bun/part ponytail affair and changed out her t-shirt for something a little less casual. Her level of access would get her to into the staff only areas of the pathology labs and morgue in the basement. Sure she could access other areas but there was no way she was going to be able to just rock up and help herself to those kinds of drugs. A minor inconvenience. She grabbed a jacket and made for the portals out in the common area of the hotel and took that one that place her closest to the hospital. It was snowing again and air chill in the air was enough to drive the majority of the warm blooded indoors. The walk to the hospital was quick and uneventful though once inside she did her best to avoid the high traffic and well lit areas. The more popular fluorescent lighting often found in such buildings was not very conducive to her blending.

She took the stairs to the basement and was soon in a part of the hospital that she knew. Here she could easily grab the needles and syringes and other various supplies that would be needed. This part of the hospital was generally empty of a night apart from the odd orderly delivering a recently expired body or the lab rat who liked to work late and those few paid little attention to the vampire as she went about her business. Her mind turned to her husband and she wondered what was happening there. She also noticed that she was she alone...meaning Savannah had staid or faded off into the spirit world for now, though Vel thought it likely that the woman would stay with her son. She expected that Savannah had spent many of these years doing just that. Her brow furrowed as she snuck through a fire exit into the stair well and worked her way up to the oncology ward where she expected to find the ...what was it he asked for? Arsenic trioxidide or some such thing. The same thing the Dr had used when treating or infecting Savannah. She would know it when she saw it.

The wards themselves were very quiet. Most of the patients sleeping and one or two nurses and the head doctor hung about the front desk, there to answer a patient’s buzzer or deal with any emergencies. Velveteen watched the trie through the small reinforced window in the door. The nurses desk was situated right in front of the room that held all the good stuff. The morphine. The codeine. And the Arsenic Trioxidode. She was going to need some sort of diversion. The bag she was carrying with the other supplies was placed in the corner and she stood to call the shadows to herself, wrapping herself tightly within them. She cracked the door a little and waited. Whatever the three were discussing they were deep into it and so and none had looked her way thus far. She counted to three before pulling the door open enough for her to slip through and let it close behind her her, maintaining a hold on the handle so it didn’t make any noise when doing so. She made her way into the the closest shared room and paused to study the faces those that slept there. Death was never far away and she could feel it filling every dark corner of this room. It reminded her of that dream her husband had shared with her and she in her mind’s eye she watched the young Micah sitting by his mother’s bed as death hung around patiently waiting to claim his bounty. It was also a rude reminder of the frailty of humans.

Sadness began to weigh on her and she almost wanted to just turn around and run. But she was not done yet. The Necromance moved with cat like stealth and a speed far beyond the capabilities of any human making it seem like the buzzers had all been set of simultaneously. In reality there was but a split second between them but nothing that would be immediately noticed, if at all. It was enough to bring the trio running to check on their patients and that in turn offered Velveteen the time she needed to get into that storeroom.

She noticed upon entry that there was a security camera in place. Of course. So she did not risk turning on the light and driving the shadows away. Instead she settled for doing what she needed in the dark. Later when the discovery was made and the security feed checked all they would see is a door opening and closing and that would be it. The tip of her finger ran across boxes underlining the names of the contents as she searched for the one she needed. “Ohhhh Arsenic Trioxide! I was close.” There was of course.. plenty. She had no idea how much would be needed so she took two of the small boxes and clutched them closely to herself so the shadows could swallow them as well. She slipped out of the storeroom and hung close to the wall, passing the doctor and both nurses as they returned to their station, confused as to what caused such a malfunction.

A cold hand grasped the handle and pushed the door open letting a rush of stale warm air from the stairwell into the temperature controlled ward and with that she grabbed the small bag left to wait in the corner and was gone.

The quickest way back to the Hotel was via Eyrie. Ten minutes later she was walking back into the basement buried beneath the hotel. She can’t have been gone more than forty five minutes if that but the carnage presented to her when she walked in cause a mild bout of panic. There was not a single surface to set the package on so it found place on the dirt floor beside her husband as she rushed to where he sat and knelt down beside him. He looked exhausted and she expected that finally the years had caught up with him with a vengeance. She placed a reassuring hand on his thigh and looked around at the bodies that littered the area like life sized rag dolls. Splinters of furniture pierced the dirt floor and walls. The only thing that was left untouched was Truman who sat upright amid the havoc. She sensed Savannah nearby but couldn’t see her. Even she seemed to be lost for words at the moment.

“I got everything you asked for.” The statement itself seemed weak and ineffective but she didn’t want to push him for something he might not be ready to share. That was usually pretty disastrous all on its own.