by Kat Stiles
“How about this couch?” She jumped up, and before I could get off, she raised it so high I could touch the ceiling.
“That is awesome!” A little freaked out, I added, “Can you put me down now?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, her expression proud. It was clear she enjoyed showing off her power. “So what can you do?”
“Me? I don’t do anything.”
“You mean you don’t know?”
“I’m not like you,” I said, and realized afterward how that sounded. “I mean… I don’t have a cool power.” I said that, but then I thought again of that gross image that popped in my head when Chad was at the hospital. I shook my head. It was probably just the after effects of blacking out.
“Yet,” she said ominously. “Whatever you do, stay away from Steve.”
“Why?”
“He’s one of the bad guys,” she sang.
Of all the quirky things about Vi, I found her tendency to break out into spontaneous song the strangest.
“I got away from them,” she said, and flexed her muscles. “They don’t even try to fuck with me anymore.”
Not having a power, I wondered if I could resist, if they really wanted me. They didn’t do much the first time to capture me except offer me a light.
I sighed and rested my head in my hands. “Why does my life have to be so damn complicated?”
“There it is!” The nearness of her voice startled me. Her finger touched the spot on the back of my neck. “That’s where they got me too.”
“So you didn’t have your power before they kidnapped you?”
“No. Granted, I’ve always been kinda strong. I used to be a personal trainer, did some competitions. But not like this.” She twirled her hair around her finger, restless once more. “I can’t wait to see what your power is!”
Neither can I, I thought, and shuddered. “So why were you stalking me?”
“I wasn’t stalking you,” she said in a pissy tone. “I just thought you were a kindred spirit, you know? I could tell you were altered by the haze in your eyes.”
I looked at her quizzically.
“Go see for yourself.”
In the bathroom, I took off my glasses and saw what she meant. Looking at them up close, I could see a subtle cloudy film over my eyes. It dulled my already dull green eyes, making them appear hazel. Great—arguably my best feature, and now gone.
“Are they going to stay like this?” Looking into Vi’s eyes, I already knew the answer. It appeared as if her eyes had been a beautiful shade of baby blue, but now they appeared gray.
Vi nodded. “I was thinking of buying some colored contacts.”
“So what were you doing in the USAcom building? Do you work there?”
“Fuck no. Do I look like a technogeek?” I narrowed my eyes at her and she laughed. “No offense,” she said, “but computers aren’t my thing. I was looking for the other one.”
“Other one? As in someone else with powers? How many are there?”
“Don’t know. But I remember seeing something in Steve’s files that mentioned your company. I thought maybe I could talk to the guy, before Steve got to him.” Vi plopped herself down on my couch, lying down with her head on one of the throw pillows. I sat on the small space left on the other end of the couch. Pickles situated himself on her chest.
“I think he likes me!” She stroked his cheeks, and he totally hammed it up for her.
The cat had warmed up to very few people so quickly, so she did have that going in her favor. But I still wasn’t so sure about anime girl.
“If you’re wondering why I haven’t left yet, it’s because you need protection,” she said, “at least until you get your power.”
“Protection from what? A hot guy in a suit?”
She sat up abruptly, despite the meowed protest from Pickles. “Kate, you have to listen to me.” She grabbed my shoulders. “Steve is not just a hot guy. If you believe nothing else I say, know that he’s bad news.”
The force with which she held my shoulders grew as she spoke, and it was starting to hurt.
“If Steve is okay,” she continued, “Why is he kidnapping—”
“Uh, Vi? Could you please?” I motioned to her hands, and she released her grip.
“Sorry,” she said, looking guiltily down at the floor. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No, I’m fine. And Steve is bad, I get it.”
“I saw him leave the hospital,” she said. “He was trying to take you again, wasn’t he?”
I nodded. “He’s afraid of you.”
At that, she grinned. “He should be.”
Never get on her bad side, I thought. My work cell phone rang, and I frantically dug through my purse to find it. I was relieved to see “Jay” on the caller ID.
“Feeling better?” he asked when I answered it.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks,” I said.
“Just wanted to check up on you. Make sure you didn’t pass out again,” he said, which was followed by a very geeky giggle.
I cringed. Jay was even more awkward speaking on the phone than he was in person. “No, still returning all zeroes.”
He laughed at the programmer reference I knew he’d appreciate. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah, thanks. Bye.”
Vi looked at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for me to explain.
“Friend from work,” I said.
“Oh, that other guy at the hospital?”
“I think he was there before you.”
“Was he about your height, with black hair and funky glasses? Kinda cute in a geeky sort of way? Yeah, he was there after I left, too. When I checked up on you that night, I saw him.”
How sweet, I thought, but wondered why he would stay, when he had a family to go home to. Maybe he felt somehow responsible for me, I reasoned, because he was there when I blacked out.
“I need to get some stuff from my place, okay?” Vi said. “I’ll be right back.”
The one phrase you never utter in a horror movie. But as weird as my life was lately, I still wouldn’t have categorized it as horror. Maybe sci-fi… As I considered this, Vi poofed out of my apartment, and I was alone again.
For a solid hour, I sat on my couch with my cat, pretending my life was normal and ignoring the double entendre texts from Dickpiggly on my phone.
***
Vi decided Steve wouldn’t attempt anything at my job, so she very graciously allowed me to go back to work. Though she offered to teleport me there, I thought it would be safer to drive. Of course I regretted that decision when I was sitting in traffic, but after the accident cleared, it wasn’t too bad. I had made it through nearly half a packet of cigarettes before I got to work, and somehow everything seemed a little better.
Mr. Douchenozzle was already there when I got in, ready to pounce. He spent a solid ten minutes asking about my hospital stay—in particular, nurse Vi. He kept going on about how he so wanted to break her. I smiled, thinking how she actually could break him. Put her fingers around his throat and silence him for good.
“Hello?” Chad said. “Earth to Kate, are you there?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, shaking off the fantasy.
“Nice to have you back,” he said, and rubbed my shoulder. “Just not the same without you.” His eyes dropped to my legs, and I swiveled around, minimizing his view.
“Thanks,” I replied, without looking at him. My stomach was still recovering from our last encounter.
With all my catch-up work, the day flew by. I didn’t even break for lunch, and it was six o’clock before I looked up from my screen, rubbed my eyes, and realized the office was totally empty. Except for Chad.
I gulped. There was a reason I never stayed late. It was to avoid the very situation I found myself in—being alone with him.
He got up from his chair, and I thought he was leaving, until I heard the sound of a lock click. My stomach dropped. He was easily three times my size, with st
rength to match.
“Don’t want to be disturbed,” he murmured as he approached me from behind. I turned away from him and gathered up my things, pretending it was just another end to another day. Hoping I had imagined the sound of the door locking. Hoping that I wasn’t, in fact, trapped with him. His hand touched my shoulder, and my heart began to pound.
I faced him and cleared my throat. “I-I was just on my way out,” I stammered, trying desperately to mask the fear in my voice.
“I don’t think so.” He grabbed my arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter 5
“You don’t want to do this,” I pleaded, trying to come up with something—anything—to stop him. “Think of your wife, your family.”
“Only thinking about you,” he said, pulling me closer. “And my cock inside you,” he added, whispering in my ear.
The next thing I did was out of instinct more than anything else. I lifted my knee up as high as it would go, which wasn’t that high, considering the stupid skirt I wore. It was enough to make contact with his balls though, and he released me. I bolted to the door. The lock stuck and I fumbled with it, cursing incessantly. It finally clicked open, right as Chad’s hand slammed against the door.
“That was a mistake, bitch,” he said, breathless. He shoved me into the adjacent wall and locked the door again. It hurt like hell, but I shook it off and lunged for the door. That’s when his fist made contact with my face. I staggered back against the wall. My legs buckled beneath me, and I slid to the floor.
“Time to play,” he said, as he unbuckled his belt.
This can’t be happening. My stomach churned in revulsion. I knew I had to get up. Get past him. Escape. In a burst of energy, I made it to my feet. He smiled wickedly, challenging me to make a run for it. Then he laughed.
“Don’t know why you’re toying with me. I know you want me. I’ve seen the way you look at me, you fucking whore.”
For some reason, hearing him call me a fucking whore stopped me in my tracks. My fear disappeared, and in its place came anger. A lot of it. “Yeah, I think you have desire confused with disgust.”
That snarky comment got me a backhand, which stung even worse than the punch, considering he wore an enormous wedding band. Then his bloated lips pressed to mine, and he forced his tongue into my mouth. I struggled against him, trying to turn my head away. His breath was a putrid mix of coffee and halitosis. He used one hand to hold my face in position, and the other to rip my blouse open. He pawed hard at my breasts, groaning. The slobbering kiss finally ceased, but not before his teeth bit into my lip.
I cried out, tasting blood.
“Oh you like that, huh?” he said. “Figured you would, you filthy cunt.”
“Please stop,” I pleaded, crying. “Please…”
“Enough with the foreplay,” he whispered, as he yanked me from the wall and hoisted me onto his shoulder. Knocking the wind out of me, he dropped me on his desk, where I landed face-down, my stomach on the edge. He stood behind me, pinning me against the desk with the weight of his legs. His hand pressed hard on the back of my head, keeping it stationary against the cold wood. As I gasped for air, I heard the sound of a zipper unzipping.
Stop, I thought over and over. I felt a pain began to build inside my head, a throbbing that was only exacerbated by my injuries.
“Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy this,” he said, his voice entirely too eager. “You’ll be begging for more.”
He shoved my skirt up, ripping it in the process. My underwear tore off as he yanked them down my thighs.
“Mm,” he murmured and then slapped my ass. “So tight.”
“Get the fuck off me!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
A surge of pain flooded my head, as if the scream had torn through my brain.
And then the throbbing stopped.
I braced myself, waiting for some other painful blow, or even worse, penetration. But instead I felt his hand lift off my head, his body move away from mine. Trembling, I turned around. He stood with his pants around his ankles, wincing, holding his head as if were trying to contain it.
What the fuck? I wiped a trickle of warm blood running down my cheek and slid my skirt back down. Then I cautiously approached him.
“What’s… happening…” he gasped, clutching his head with more force. He screamed as he fell to the floor, curling into a fetal position.
“Asshole,” I said, and spit on him.
I imagined his head exploding, creating a beautiful landscape of Dickpiggly brain matter, the perfect enhancement to the drab office wallpaper.
But that’s not what happened. Instead there was simply a ‘poof’ sound. And then he stopped moving.
Of course, I didn’t understand at the time what transpired. How could I grasp the gravity of the situation when I was still trying to catch my breath? I was just grateful to be safe.
I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. Right as I unlocked it and turned the knob, I heard a thump behind me.
Holy shit, did he get back up? Afraid to look, I sighed in relief when I heard the sound of Vi’s voice.
“Ewww, gross.”
I nearly laughed at her reaction. Seeing Chad on the floor half-naked was decidedly gross. She caught a glimpse of my face and ran over to me.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” She reached out to touch me, but then withdrew. “Fuck, I knew he was a dick.”
I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. “Yeah.”
“You did this?” she asked, circling Chad. “Nice.”
“No, I…”
Squatting down on the floor next to him, she felt for a pulse. “Oh shit.” Vi stood up abruptly. “We have to get out of here.”
“What’s wrong? Is he…”
But before I could say another word, Vi grabbed my hand and teleported us out.
Modified Volume 2
Chapter 1
Little known fact #2: The sensation of teleportation is somewhat like the uneasy feeling you get on a plane, when the pilot dips the altitude too fast.
When Vi said she was still “getting the hang of it,” she failed to mention that she had not yet even begun to master the art of landings. We both stumbled into my living room, and the impact of the floor reopened the gash under my eye.
She apologized and lifted me in her arms. I could smell her perfume that close to her body, a sweet vanilla scent that went perfectly with her overall girly motif. She lay me carefully down onto the couch. Then she scurried out of the room and returned with a wet washcloth. Gently, she began patting the wound.
“Damn, I knew I should’ve popped in earlier,” she said. “I thought something was wrong.”
“He…he wasn’t moving when I left.” I felt detached, and all I could picture in my head was how still Chad was, lying on the floor.
“Well, duh. He was dead, Kate.”
Hearing her say it confirmed my suspicion. He was dead.
Chad was dead.
How did he…
“No, no that can’t be right,” I said out loud, fighting against what I knew was the truth. “He was fine. No, he IS fine.” I sat upright, startling Vi.
“Why do you think I wanted to bolt?”
“He might be hurt though,” I said, ignoring her. “I should call an ambulance.”
Vi looked at me as if I were high. “Morgue is more like it,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
“Don’t say that, he’s fine.” I figured if I kept saying it, it might actually be true. I dug in my purse, looking for my cell phone. “Where the fuck is it?”
Frustrated, I threw the purse across the room. Then I broke down and cried.
Vi wrapped her arms around me. For awhile, I didn’t speak. When I finally calmed down enough, I relayed the whole fucked up incident to her. And as I retold it, what really happened to Chad became perfectly clear.
“It was me,” I said. “Oh my God, I killed that man.”
I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. It wasn�
��t because Chad specifically had died. It was more because a human being had died at my hands, regardless of however loosely I defined the term, “human being.”
“You can’t blame yourself, that’s bullshit,” Vi said. “He was about to rape you!”
“That doesn’t give me the right to take his life.” Panic set in as I wondered what to do next. Do I turn myself in? What would I say? How could I possibly explain what happened?
Vi looked at me sideways. “How do you know you did it? I mean, did you feel something different?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I recalled the throbbing sensation that had subsided, after I screamed at him. And then how I visualized his brain exploding…
“You didn’t know what you were doing,” Vi said, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s not like you intended to do it.”
I snickered. “How does that matter? He’s still dead.”
“Of course it matters. Intention is everything,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“What am I going to tell the police?” I got up and began to pace the room. “They’re going to want to talk to me, I was the last person with him.”
“Calm down, Kate, it’s going to be fine.”
“Fine? How is this fine?” I wanted to scream. “I can’t survive in prison!”
I quickened my pace. Pickle stared at me from the kitchen, as if I were a different person. Somehow, he knew not to complain about my tardiness in feeding him.
“I have to leave the country,” I announced.
Vi intercepted me, grabbing my arms. “Stop! You’re not a fugitive. Look the dude was easily 100 pounds overweight. Just say it looked like a heart attack, you bolted because you were afraid of him.”
Could that work, I wondered. Heart attack would certainly be plausible, considering his age, weight, and high-stress job. I took a deep breath and exhaled.
“That’s better,” Vi said, gently touching my less injured cheek. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, but you’re going to be okay, I promise. Go lie down for now, I’ve got something I need to take care of.”
I nodded and sat on the couch. “Oh shit, my car! It’s still there. If someone sees it tomorrow, it’s going to look suspicious.”