========
Disclaimer: Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen and Fox broadcasting owns everyone
associated with the X-Files. I wish I did. I could use the money. Suing me
is useless, as all you'd get is this computer and a blind poodle mix dog.
This story also VERY losely uses some terminology and forms from White
Wolf's Masquarade. I'm not making any effort to really follow those rules
though. 

I give this story a strong R rating due to language and violence.

TITLE:Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
PART: 1/?
AUTHOR:Rhondda Lake
EMAIL ADDRESS:rhonilak@icontech.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT:Archive and distribute freely
SPOILER WARNING:
RATING:*R* with an alternate NC-17 part marked as such
CONTENT WARNING: violence, language and situations. By violence I do mean
fairly discriptive passages of it's aftermath as well. Not for the squeemish.
CLASSIFICATION:MSR, X
SUMMARY:Horrific murders in Cleveland stall a vacation weekend and Hope's
plans to move.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 1/?)

ABANDONED LACE MILL
LAKEFRONT 
CLEVELAND, OH 
12:30 AM

Karla slipped under the loose board at the door. The old building had been
condemned years ago, but it was used for all sorts of clandestine meetings
now. Drug deals were made in the corners, and some of the more desperate
working boys and girls sometimes brought clients here, taking them to the
back. Karla knew that all too well. She'd done it herself.

At sixteen there wasn't much Karla hadn't done. She had just managed to
start getting her life back together. Thanks to Karen Haas and Tyche House.
Karen had been her 'protective older sister' on the streets, and had guided
her into Tyche house. The shelter had helped her, given her a place to stay,
and Arianna had personally held her hand throughout the worst of the shakes
as she cleaned out.

Now here she was, practically throwing away everything she'd achieved, for
HIM. For Ace. He was so beautiful, and he paid attention to her so
exclusively it made her feel as if she were the center of the universe. For
the past week, she was courted, adored... and so she was here, to meet him.

In the darkness she knew what each shadowy form was, from the old days. When
she came here to turn tricks and pick up drugs. There a loom, its metal
rusted beyond most recognition. There a row of empty spools, the smell of
their rotting wood all but hidden by the odor of urine, vomit and sex.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped, giving a little squeak of
surprise.

"I knew you'd come beautiful. My angel. Sweet innocence fallen and
reclaimed." His breath was soft next to her ear. She could just make out the
arc of high cheekbone, the promise of his long, soft hair, black as night.
His skin was so pale she could tell where he was.

"Ace. Of course I came. You asked me to." She smiled. She was Juliet, and
here was her Romeo. Ari had made them read that a few weeks ago. It was
mostly confusing to her, but the story itself was nice.

She felt a soft kiss on her cheek. Cool breath. She wasn't some trembling
virgin, she knew sex in all its forms, most of them without any tenderness
or personal release. His gentle caresses, soft kisses were exactly what
she'd never had before. And he never took it further than a stolen kiss, a
gentle touch.

"Why did you need to see me tonight? I could get in so much trouble."

Ace chuckled in her ear. "But you are in trouble, my trembling bride." His
caress turned into a grip of steel, and old instincts took over. She was
instantly terrified. She tried to pull away but he was too strong. She
kicked out only to have her leg grasped.

"Ooooh, she is sweet." Another male voice to the left. "Innocence found
again, and once more lost."

Karla felt the sting of the needle, just above the track of old scars. The
all too familiar burn of heroine pushing through her veins.

"NOOOOOOOOooooooo!" She started to sob and she twisted in the iron grip.

"Yes, sweetness. We need. We Feed. We need to feed." A woman's chanting. The
first agony was accompanied by a wet ripping sound. It was quickly lost in
Karla's screams.

SAME WAREHOUSE
11:PM NEXT NIGHT


"Karla?" The whisper was thin in the shadows. A small form darted through
lancelike beams of streetlights piercing the gaps in boarded over windows.
The figure was childishly small, and outside light caressed a flow of dark
hair highlighted red.

"Karla, honey, are you here?" A pert nose sniffed at the air, and a low
keening sound filled the empty room. "No. Nooooo."

The small form crouched and a slender, pale finger rubbed at a lump at the
floor. The finger shot to full, lightly painted lips and a pink tongue
darted out to taste the brownish flakes there.

The soft keening grew in pitch, until an animalistic ROAR ripped through the
darkness, causing the old machinery to tremble.

"Fucking LUSHES!" The words were tinged with such hatred. "You just made the
biggest mistake of your short unlives!"
                                                     
                                     X

UNIVERSITY OF OHIO
KATHY HYLAND DORMATORY
CLEVELAND, OHIO

The empty studio room was the biggest draw of the dorm. It was here that the
girls housed there held parties or practiced various arts. The music filling
the studio room now was a bumping grinding rhythm accentuated by Steven
Tyler's voice.

//We were makin love when you told me that you loved me,
I thought ol' cupid he was taken aim//

The two girls moved in perfect sync. They had taken the same dance courses,
and had turned such little interludes into fun for both themselves and
anyone who dared to watch.

One girl was tall, five foot eight , and lithe. The leotard she wore showed
a graveful, willowly build. Her long hair was a rich mixture of browns woven
into a braid that slapped against the small of her back as she danced. Her
hazel eyes were alive and vibrant, dancing with humor yet edged with a pain
that could at times be looked over.

The other girl was short, five foot one, and as curvaceous as the tall girl
was slender. She looked like she'd been designed for men's wet dreams. In
fact her upper half almost got in the way of some turns and arm movements in
their dance. The short woman had masses of jet black hair pulled up into a
topknot, the ponytail was full of naturally curled ringlets. This girl's
eyes were black/brown and there was a hard edge to them, softened by the
laughter. The short sleeves of her leotard did not hide the faint line of
old scars. Little dots that would forever mark her painful past and an
escape sought in the false euphoria of the needle.

Both girls fell to their knees brought one foot up, made a turns and twist...
//Falling in love is so hard on the knees!//

On making the final standing turn the short girl found her balence wrong.
Her center too low and her body too top-heavy, she landed on her
well-rounded ass.

After a sting of curses to make a sailor blush both girls broke into giggles.

"Karen, you better get it right someday, your next dance partner won't be as
forgiving as me." The tall girl laughed.

"These things keep getting in the way." She gestured to her chest and saw
the other girl lose all humor and look at her own chest despairingly.

"Oh no you don't! Hope, you are a size b and can go braless in the summer
heat. You are still nicely curved and obviously female. Lay off it. At least
when you dance they don't fly up and smack you in the eye." Karen stuck her
fists on her hips and glared up at her friend. 

Hope eyed Karen enviously. Yeah, sure, Karen could say that. Karen was a D
cup at least, and on her little five foot one frame it made her rival Dolly
Parton.

"Karen, are you coming on to me?"

Karen laughed. "Do you want me to, babe?"

Hope sighed and held out her hand to help her friend up. It was an old
arguement between them. "I don't know, should I introduce you to Dad and
Dana as my significant other? It might be worth it to see the look on their
faces."

Karen laughed. "Nah, don't need to borrow trouble. Maybe I'll just invite
Ruthie to help move your boxes to their car. The two of us can carry on if
you want."

Hope shook her head. She had the feeling it wouldn't phase her Dad or Dana a
bit to learn her best friend was notoriously bisexual with a heavier leaning
towards women then men. Karen's last fling had been with a guy. That had
ended when Hope was on the run four weeks before. It turned out the jackass
heard Karen had once been a prostitute and thought he could easily 'score'.
He was left shredded by a verbal barrage that made some of the University
professor's quake in fear. To add insult to that injury Karen was now dating
Ruthie, a lovely little pixish blonde who shared her passion for Shakespeare.

"When are they due to arrive anyway?" Karen grabbed a towel and tossed
another to Hope. Both girls mopped at the sweat covering their faces and chests.

"Dad and Dana? Eleven Saturday morning. But remember you don't get rid of me
for three more days after that. I promised to give them a tour, and Dad
wants to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame." Hope grinned.

Karen looked at her watch. "I'll be on my best behavior. I promise. I'm
telling you, you lucked out, girl. Those pictures from the wedding had me
salivating. Your Dad and his wife certainly are scrumptious."

Hope flicked her towel at Karen's retreating behind. "Karen!"

Hope got the shower first. She hadn't seen Mulder and Scully since their
small, private wedding reception. They'd left from the reception to
honeymoon in New Orleans. Dana's idea, as she refused to honeymoon in
Memphis. She'd had constant phone contact though. It was hard, however, to
try to build some sort of real relationship with her Dad and his new wife
over the phone. It was one of the reasons she was moving to Georgetown. A
lot closer.

She also knew that Dad and Dana were apartment hunting for a place with
three bedrooms. They were going to need a nursery in five months, and Hope
understood the unspoken implication that the third room was going to be hers
whenever she wanted. They still hadn't found a place that fit their ideas of
a budget and security, however.

As Hope pulled on her bathrobe and wrapped her long hair in a towel she
heard crying from the next room.

Crying? Karen didn't cry. Ever.

Hope threw open the bathroom door to be confronted with a sight she'd never
contemplated before. Karen Haas with their phone cradled against her cheek,
sobbing her eyes out.

"Karen?" Hope reached out and embraced her friend, gently taking the phone
from her hand she listened, and heard soft sniffles on the other end.
"Hello? Who is this?"

"Um... this is Arianna over at the Tyche house. Is Karen going to be OK? I
can come over if..."

"I'll take care of her." Hope squeezed the older, smaller girl's shoulders.
"What happened?"

"Karla, the girl Karen brought into Tyche house... she was murdered last
night.  I called to tell her, and to know if she wanted to help arrange the
funeral. She was the closest thing to family Karla had."

"Give her some time and she'll call you back with an answer," Hope told the
woman. "Thank you for calling her."

"I'm sorry I had to." The woman on the other end sounded almost as upset as
Karen. Hope hung up softly, then sat on the bed rocking her friend, letting
her tears soak her robe and offering what comfort she could.

end part 1...



========
Disclaimed in part 1. (Rated R for language and violence)

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake 
(Part 2/?)

J. EDGER HOOVER BUILDING 
WASHINGTON D.C. 
8:00 am TWO DAYS LATER

Dana Scully opened the door to the basement office to find pitch blackness.
She frowned. Oh, she was used to dim lighting, Mulder seemed to soak it in
to aid in one morose mood or another, but the complete lack of light was new
to her. How had she succeeded in beating him into the office when they had
arrived in the same car from the same apartment? To top it off, SHE had
stopped to chat with Hellen Matthews. They had lucked out and managed to
keep their wedding private until after the fact, meaning the OPC couldn't
separate them on the basis of an unwritten rule without serious
discrimination repercussions, especially when Skinner announced he had no
intentions of splitting up such a high performance team, as long as they
STAYED high performance. It was both his blessing and his warning. 

Her hand reached for the wall switch.

"Leave 'em out. I was waiting for you." Mulder's voice leapt at her from the
darkness.

"In the dark?"

"Haven't you learned yet? We're always in the dark Scully." She heard small
shuffling noises and the well known sound of the projector being turned on
just before the machine's light fell on the wall cleared for such shows.

"More vacation slides Mulder? I thought you promised not to bore Hope with
slides of our honeymoon."

The first splash of color against the wall was as gruesome as anything they
had seen. It took her a few moments to actually realize it had been a human
being once. The head gave it away. It looked like something you'd find in
the butcher's shop on a good day.

"Someone saw Sweeny Todd one too many times?" She ventured.

"Close. This was once Karla Morris. A sixteen year old runaway with a long
arrest record for prostitution and drug abuse. She HAD been cleaned up and
straitening herself out at a private shelter. She was found two days ago in
an abandoned silk mill in Cleveland." Mulder hit the control and another
slide filled the wall. A scene much the same as the first. Ten more clicks
showed different bodies, all torn apart and butchered.

"Eleven reported deaths, the first six in New York, now these in Cleveland."

"What was used to do that?" Scully took the file pressed into her hands.

"MEs can't tell. They were ripped apart, Scully. No outside tools, just
brute strength." Mulder's expression was eager. He had hold of this one with
both hands and he wasn't about to let go.

"Where's the blood?" Scully finally asked, dreading the answer as she looked
up from the file. All the scenes had been remarkably absent of the usual
scarlet or dark brown pigmentation. A shiver passed through her. Childhood
nightmares got tamped down.        

"That's what I hope to find out." He grinned and slapped her plane ticket on
top of the file. 

"Tell the truth, you just picked this one up so the Bureau would pay for our
trip to pick up Hope, didn't you?" She picked up the ticket and tapped him
in the nose with it.

"No, but it is convenient. I called Hope and told her we'd be in town early.
She said she'll leave us to our work till Saturday morning. It seems the
last victim was a friend of her roommate's. Her words were, 'You two go get
the bed guys. Don't let them get away with this. No matter what the coroner
says, Karen says the girl was clean, so she was clean."

TYCHE HOUSE CHILDREN'S SHELTER
CLEVELAND, OHIO
3:28 PM

The building was a three story brick that used to be an apartment complex.
The stonework outside was exquisite, though sullied by years of dirt and
bird lime. The corners held what appeared to be sword bearing angels, and
the rest of the masonry depicted scenes of Greek Mythology.

Scully got out of the car and looked at the architecture. The building was
smaller then it's neighbors.

"Angels and Greeks?" She looked at Mulder.

"Nike. Goddess of Victory. You ever read Homer?" He grinned. "Tyche was the
goddess of luck. I wonder if they named this place after the building's
leanings."

Inside the front doors was a sitting room decorated with second hand
furniture. A desk sat off to one side, battleship gray metal most likely
salvaged from a school somewhere. The Asian woman behind the desk looked up
from her novel as they entered.

"Can I help you?"

Scully showed her ID. "Agents Scully and Mulder. We're here in regards to
the death of Karla Morris."

The woman closed her book carefully and nodded solemnly.

"I'm Mai Lee. Come with me please. One of the private meeting rooms would be
better. The kids wander through here all the time and they weren't told the
details."

They followed the woman through an institutionally decorated hallway, bright
prints of rock posters and a large bulletin board broke up the walls painted
in a shade of green definitely not found in nature.

The room she opened to them held a folding card table and four folding
wooden chairs. A smaller table that had seen better days, held a coffee
maker, styrofoam cups and the trappings.

"The people you'll want to talk to are Tom Sullivan, our Administrator and
Arianna Llewellyn the Director and our primary psychologist. If you want to
talk with Karla's friends.... can you please avoid mentioning that there
were traces of heroin found in her system if at all possible? They worry
about set backs with the other kids." Ms. Lee wrung her hands.

"We'll try." Scully assured her. "Where are Mr. Sullivan and Mrs. Llewellyn
now?"

"Mr. Sullivan is teaching an English class. Umm... most of these kids aren't
ready for public schools and the pressures there yet, so we have high school
classes here. Ms. Llewellyn never comes in before six. She's here from six
till five in the morning though, keeping an eye on the kids, easing late
night terrors, and giving counseling sessions until ten, which is curfew."

"Can we talk to Mr. Sullivan now?" Mulder spoke for the first time.

"Sure. I'll relieve him. Feel free to have some coffee." She backed out the
door and left them alone.

"A bit jumpy." Scully observed as Mulder checked out the coffee pot.

"They just had one of their kids brutally murdered Scully, under
circumstances that can make this shelter look very bad." He poured himself a
cup and gestured to her with it. "They have decaffeinated tea." She waved it
off. 

Mulder nodded. Even tea was giving her heartburn these days. He eyed her
appreciatively. She was four months along and she realized this would most
likely be her last field assignment until the baby was born. She had already
put on weight and she wore that healthy glow that most people picked up on.
The cut of her suit disguised the beginning swell of her stomach. 

Mulder leaned against the wall and smiled. Less then a month married and he
was a contented man. More then he thought possible. The baby had moved for
the first time last night, and he'd felt it with a new sense of wonder. He
was not about to give up his search for Samantha, or the Truths in the
X-Files, but he had found a peaceful center. Of course his peaceful center
was swept for surveillance devices once a week...

It was three minutes later that a bearded, heavyset man entered. His longish
brown hair was streaked with gray and pulled back into a ponytail.

"You the FBI?"

Both agents held out their IDs. The man nodded and took one of the
questionable chairs

"What can I help you with? We've gone over all this with the police."

"We know, but there are some things we need to check into ourselves. Had
Karla been acting strangely prior to the night of her death? Any sign that
she was back on heroin?" Mulder's face was carefully expressionless.

"God no. We watch these kids very carefully agent Mulder. Some of them call
this shelter 'The Police State'. Mandatory drug testing once a week, for
everyone. They know they have to work to get off the streets and a screw up
like that and they'd be out of here in a heartbeat. We have a waiting list,
kids who desperately need our help. We can't waste time and bed space on
anyone who isn't willing to fight for their own betterment." Mr. Sullivan
spread his hands. "We operate on the one strike and your out principle.
Karla had been tested just the day before her murder. She was clean. I can
swear to that. She had been for six months. She was even attending public
school. Next week she was going to start her first legal job. That kid had a
future." The man stopped and chewed at his bottom lip, a suspicious shimmer
in his eyes.

"There is talk of her seeing a guy. Maybe someone she met at public school.
She was all... I don't know... like a real teenager. Her room mate says she
was mooning over this guy. The only name anyone gets is Ace. I'm sure you
know this, it should be on the police reports. Ari thinks he may have been a
set up. Needless to say the pimps and pushers don't exactly appreciate the
Tyche House. They'd love to have Social Services shut us down, even though
we work with Sochserv. It may be that Karla was killed to make us look bad
OR because her ex-pimp wanted revenge."

"What can you tell us about her ex-pimp?" Scully spoke up this time.

"Rico. Badass Mother. He controls about thirty kids at any given time. We've
only ever had four of his former 'employees' go through here. The other
three are good kids. Karen is now twenty one and going to Ohio State on
scholarships, an English Major. Mike turned eighteen two months ago, he's
living in a low rent apartment we arranged for him, works a regular job...
he even comes back here to help with some of the younger boys we get. He
knows their private Hells, so he helps them get through them better then we
can. Karen does the same. There's a loyalty here. Once these kids get off
the street they either try to forget the past or come back to try to help
others. Debbie, she's fifteen and went home to her mother. All three are in
counseling. Deb calls once in a while. "

"We have their addresses here." Scully looked at the file she'd brought with
her. She knew Karen Haas' address by heart. It was where she and Mulder were
to meet Hope on Saturday.

"The police are looking into this Ace character, but with no description to
work from the chances of them finding him..." Mulder shrugged a bit.

"We know that. What's being done about Doug?" Mr. Sullivan looked at both
agents, his eyes without real hope.

"Doug?" Scully frowned and poured over the file.

"Doug Wilson. He snuck out last night. Hasn't come back. We filed a missing
persons, thinking that with what happened to Karla the police would be a bit
more helpful, but... they seem convinced he just ran back to his pimp and
his drugs. Doug is thirteen, and he looked up to Karla, both were on heroin,
came in about the same time. Jason, his bunkmate thinks Doug might have
gotten a lead on this mysterious Ace.  The kids can sometimes find out
things no cop ever could. We suspect Dougie went looking for him."    

"You think Doug Wilson..."

The heavyset man cut Scully off. "Is most likely in the same condition Karla
is in right now."

She looked to Mulder, their eyes speaking volumes into the silence of the room.

"Can we talk with Karla's roommate?"

"Sure. I'll send her right in." Mr. Sullivan left them to themselves as he
sought out the girl.

                                           X


Three hours later both agents were tired, but Mulder seemed to be piecing
something together.

The first kid interviewed had been Jewel, Karla's room mate. She had sat
nervously in the wooden chair, popping her gum and eyeing both agents
distrustfully. She spoke of Karla having restless nights. Some killer
dreams, in her own words. Karla had been a bit pale, but the flu was going
around, and once it was in the shelter everyone got it. The phantom
boyfriend was a brunette, that's all she could say, and he quoted poetry.
Karla told Jewel he'd quoted something like "She walks in the night with
beauty."

"She walks in beauty, like the night." Mulder corrected.

"Yeh! That's it." Jewel smiled brightly at Mulder, falling into a
flirtatious pattern she had learned to use to lure in johns on the street.

"Real charmer. Likes Byron." Mulder muttered, ignoring the girls slight
change in body language intentionally. She noticed the disinterest and
shrugged to herself. She couldn't offer anything more, anyway.

They got little more out of Jason, Doug's roommate. The interviews with
friends of the deceased and missing were depressing. All of the kids had
haunted eyes, and none of them, even ten year old Kimmy, were children. Not
really. They'd seen and done too much. They'd seen the worst the world had
to offer. Scully felt a directionless anger rise in her. She looked to her
partner and saw it had affected him as well. But the anger in him was not as
obvious as the sad resignation in his eyes.

By the time the last interview was done it was six thirty. Ten year old
Kimmy, who had been hooking on the street for two years, left them last.

The door opened and another kid walked in. Mulder frowned, there were no
more on their list to be interviewed.

The kid then met his eyes and he felt the floor go out from under him. Her
eyes were pale violet, the kind that you only saw with tinted contact lenses
or on Elizabeth Taylor, but he knew in his gut that her's were natural. They
bore into him, weighing and measuring his soul. She nodded slightly as if
accepting what she found there, then looked at Scully. 

He could see by his wife's still posture and paleness that she felt as he
had, and was equally uncomfortable with it.

The person in the door was no kid despite her size. Mulder mused that he had
never met such a petite individual before. Even Scully was taller. Yet she
was physically perfect in every way, so she could hardly be called a midget.
The woman stepped into the room and tossed the end of her red brown ponytail
over her shoulder. She was approximately four foot ten or eleven,  and
willow thin. She wore a black sweat shirt without arms and cut off to expose
her toned tummy and tight blue jeans, her feet encased in black soft suede
boots. Mulder grinned. It must be hard for her to find clothes that were not
designed to make her look cute and twelve.

"I'm Arianna Llewellyn. I heard you wanted to speak with me." Her voice was
surprisingly soft and mellow. It called to mind liquid chocolate.

Mulder cleared his throat. "Yes, we would. Please have a seat."

The woman took one of the chairs and faced them calmly. "You are
investigating Karla's death, no?"

"Yes." Scully faced the woman, oddly disturbed by her earlier appraising
look and by the fact that while she was the larger of the two for one of the
few times in her life, this woman had a presence that made her feel like an
errant schoolgirl.

"Karla was a wonderful child. She'd had a hard life. One with little beauty
in it. But she had a good soul. She fought her way back from the abyss. And
some bastard shoved her right back in before butchering her like a pig. You
won't catch the ones who did this."

"You seem pretty sure of that Ms. Llewellyn. Do you have an idea who might
have done this?" Mulder sat next to Scully.

"Several, as no doubt Tom Sullivan has told you." Her bright eyes darted
between Mulder and Scully. "I consider every child to sleep here under my
protection. They come here seeking help, love, a will to go on in a world
that has given them none. I try to provide that for them, as does every
teacher, councilor and secretary who either works or volunteers here. Has
anyone heard anything about Dougie yet?" She expected no positive response,
and did not even blink when Mulder shook his head. 

"We just heard about him a few hours ago. What were you doing when Karla
disappeared? I understand you stay here all night as a kind of night
watchman." Mulder was now returning the scrutiny he'd felt from this woman
earlier.

"I'm only human Mr. Mulder." A small twitch of her lips. "I had stepped out
for a bite to eat. When I came back and did the door to door Karla was gone.
She'd climbed out her window. Her room was near the fire escape. But not
close enough for good judgment. She could have broken her neck in that
maneuver. I immediately roused the on site councilors and three of us went
out looking for her." Ms. Llewellyn appeared tense, angry even.

"Please understand... I had such high hopes for Karla. She was a GOOD kid. I
think she could have had a... normal future. House, husband, kids... the
American dream. That someone stole that from her..." Her small hands were
locked into bloodless fists. Her eyes shimmered as well. She produced a
tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes swiftly. The motions of one
who did not like to be seen so weak.

"How can we get in touch with you if we have further questions?" Mulder
finished this interview.

"Leave a message here. I practically live here anyway."

end part 2...


========
Disclaimers attached to part 1. (Rated R for language
and violence)

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake 
(Part 3/?)


In the car Scully looked over at Mulder. For a change he was in the
passenger seat.

"OK, what's going on?" She sighed.

"How old would you think Arianna Llewellyn is?"

She gave him a startled look. "I thought a well-developed twelve at first,
but when you get a good look at her I'd say mid to late twenties. You aren't
going to go judging people by their size, are you?" Her arched eyebrow was a
challenge despite the teasing remark.

"Never. As a matter of fact, she made me feel like *I* was twelve in there.
I was ready for her to slap my wrist with a ruler," he mused, pulling at his
bottom lip.

"Do you think she may be in on this? We can check and see if she was in New
York at the time of those murders easily enough. But I sincerely doubt she
had the brute strength to tear someone apart Mulder."

He nodded. "But I think she may know more then she's telling." 

                                     X

ROOFTOP OF TYCHE HOUSE

She looked down from the roof. Those two... they might just be able to see
beyond carefully placed masks into the heart of the Truth. She could not
allow that. However, she saw in them something to be admired. They strove,
against impossible odds all the time. The hearts of fighters. The souls of
Seekers. Like the children below her. Good, honest folk. She just could
never turn her back on such people, not even in her youth. Especially not on
the woman who carried a new life within her. That had shocked her. She
wasn't aware that the FBI allowed pregnant agents in the field.

She sighed. The game was getting more complex. She had long ago lost any
interest in playing it, but at times like these she was helplessly swept
away in it. Justice must be served. Her mind, heart and soul screamed for
it. For Karla, and for Dougie. That poor boy... he had been her
responsibility. She had been so desperate to find those who had killed Karla
she'd failed to notice the boy's troubles. And so far she had not been able
to find him. Or what was left of him. She hated feeling so ineffectual. She
had let them both down. Guilt. It never faded. That man knew it well. She
felt an odd kinship to him.

They could not learn the Truth, but they could be useful. Live bait to set a
trap.

She frowned. Live bait... but steps must be taken to protect the bait. Her
conscience was quite full enough, thank you. And if anythig befell a
pregnant woman through any doing of her own, Ari wasn't sure she could
shoulder that burden.

"You ok?"

She spun to see little Kimmy on the roof behind her. They were almost of
even height. Ari sighed. She saw herself more in Kimmy than in any of them.
This girl was the child of Ari's heart, as she could never have one of her
body. Kimmy had started hooking at age eight... the same age as a long ago
child had been when her sheepherder father raped her and used her as a whore
for others. Fast money, no work... Ari shivered.

"Yeh, kiddo. I was looking at the stars. They never change, you know. They
are the one constant in the universe." She placed an arm protectively around
the child. Feeling the warmth of the girl's skin through her clothing.

"You always listen when we need to talk. Who listens to you, Ari?" The small
voice cut to her heart and she hugged the girl as fiercely as she dared.

"I keep my own counsel. Sometimes it is better that way."

Kimmy pulled away a little, looking at her friend with eyes too old and wise
for a child. "Everyone needs someone to talk to. You told us that. I'm here
if you need me."
 
Arianna wiped absently at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. Twice today
she had been moved to tears.

"Thank you, child. I shall remember that. Come. Dinner will be served soon.
And I know you just LOVE burgers."

ABANDONED WAREHOUSE 
WATERFRONT 
CLEVELAND, OHIO
8:00 PM

"Ok, kiddies, we got some new players on the field." The new arrival looked
at the three people scattered around the room. He ignored the soft whimpers
coming from a closed off and padlocked room to the side.

The three all wore leather with chain trim. The sole woman wore leather
pants accentuating a to-die-for figure made more obvious by the muscle tee
she wore. The two men wore leather jackets. All had long, shaggy hair. A
street-tough look somehow made more menacing by the extreme paleness of
their skin, and brightness of their eyes.

"Jako, what kind of players could be of any interest to us? We just make
them run in circles till they drop. The game ceased to be fun with them
years ago." The dark haired punk was flipping cards into a hat, eternally bored.

"Ya know that Fairy Godmother's been closing in, leading us a merry chase
right? Well she just got two helpers. Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad
Wolf. They're specialists at handlin our kinda work." Jako wore his hair in
a stiff black mohawk, a chain ran from the earing in his ear to the ring in
his nose. "Regular psycho Einstein and girl wonder so the rumor mill has it.
Wouldn't mind gettin my hands on Little Red either. I cruised by the sleep
park they's stayin at. Quite a piece. And a piece inside a piece if ya get
my meanin'. They're sharin a room, so I guess it's the Big Bad Wolf's pup."

"Shut up Jako. Why specialists? Think we've been gaining a bit more
attention than we should?" The woman looked to the card player. "Ace?"

Ace looked up from his cards. "Wouldn't Cleveland's premiere Cainites just
love that?" He grinned sharply. "Our little Sabbat drawing down their
precious little Masquerade. Queenie, this is just too grand."

Queenie shook her head. "Ace, you're pushin the envelope. You gonna bring
some Justicers down on us major. I like my fun, but I'd also like to see the
next century."

"Goin chicken on us darlin? Want to spend your nights as a Tease, drinkin
the pale stuff, afraid of gettin caught. You ever LIVE as much as you have
with me as your Regent?"

The woman shook her head. "You did promise me interestin times if I took the
Oath to you."

"King, go check out Jako's Specialists. Tell me what kind a game we can
play. Been three days kiddies. The Beast is risin. Let's make tonight a
Party night. The House of Cards are gonna rock and roll!" Ace sent his cards
flying in a swift blur for the hat, much faster than humanly possible.
"Tonight we can find out if deuces really are wild." He smiled at the locked
door, and the pitiful sobs from behind it.

                                     X

HOLIDAY INN - CLEVELAND AIRPORT

Dana nibbled absently at her pizza as she finished typing out the interview
notes. She looked at Mulder as he was cross-referencing this case with some
old X-Files. He just finished calling Hope. She could tell by his expression
as they talked that he was desprately glad that Hope hadn't turned out to be
one of the residents of Tyche House, or worse, one who never made it to the
shelter.

"So what is the theory on this one? You planning on digging up Bela Legosi?"
Her question was teasing, but her mind lingered on chilling tales older
siblings had used to terrorize a pesky little sister. And a half-remembered
nightmare of red eyes and long teeth coming for her when she was seven. The
nightmare still haunted her sometimes. The demon coming, and the Angel that
fought it for her. A Gentle angel who whispered the nightmare away. She
shivered at the old recollection.

Mulder shook his head slightly. "Don't laugh yet, Scully. Two years ago I'd
agree with you, but I've seen things."

"You told me about the Trinity case, Mulder. And I've told you you most
likely were dealing with a case of twins." Scully slapped the remains of her
pizza into the now empty box. Delusional ritual killers and twins. It was
the only logical explination. She would not even consider Mulder's theory on
that one. She felt obligated to point out nice sane rational to this one as
well. >And what if there isn't any?< Her mental voice prodded. >What if this
is like other cases, and science gives you no clear cut answers? Can you
ever sleep again?<

Mulder's voice pulled her from her internal musings. "And John managed to
convince himself he'd spontaneously combust if the sun hit him, so it was
actually a case of mind over matter? I just don't buy it. And we still have
the fact that all the bodies related to these Butcher slayings are curiously
low on blood."

Scully sighed. "It's pathetically simple. They were killed in one place,
butchered and bled, then the bodies were dumped at the sites."

"There was just enough blood at the silk mill for splatter patterns, Scully.
Karla was killed there." Mulder showed her the old files he had, the papers
yellowing a bit at the edges.

"Not all of these were butchered, but there have been bloodless corpses
showing up across the country since Hoover opened the first X-file."

"Then maybe you should be looking for a disturbed Red Cross employee."
Scully shoved the file back at him. 

                                      X

Outside King watched. The lights from the room let shadows play against the
drapes. He'd seen Jako's piece when she'd gone to the door to get the pizza
they'd ordered. Very not bad.

His ears picked up the low conversation inside, He leaned closer to the
wall. He never tired of his hightened senses, in his ability to hear things
he'd never been able to in his life before.

>From the sound of things Jako might have been right. The guy in there
sounded like a real Stalker. The girl was unconvinced. Good. Playing them
against each other would be fun. Make it more interesting. Especially with
them roomin together and her carryin the pup as Jacko had proclaimed.
Watching them go for each other's throats would be a fun game. If the guy
knew as much as it
sounded like he knew... then they'd have the thrill of the kill at the end
of this game. Oh the possibilities.

With no warning at all King was pulled backward with unbelievable force. He
felt himself flying through the air before the cold pavement of the parking
lot met his back with enough force to knock the wind out of anyone. But King
was on
his feet in an instant, looking around into the dark. Darkness was no cover
to him. He could see as plainly as full day.

The small figure watched him, eyes narrowed. She stood in shadow. If he had
been less than he was he'd never have seen her. She stood with arms crossed
against her thin chest. Pitiful little creature. But one who had the
strength to toss him aside like a doll.

"You dare?" He hissed in challenge. The weak light of the parking lights
glinting off extended fangs. He stood in attack position, humanity melting
away from him, every lean muscle taught. His eyes took on the golden green
cast of 
the Beast.

She did not move. "We are going to talk, you and I. And if I like what you
have to say... I shall allow you to live." The voice that touched his ears
was a soft whisper.

"Who are you?" King's voice had become a gravely rasp as the Beast within
emerged.

"I am justice. I am what awaits those who stalk protected prey." The soft
words were hissed. The small one was angry. She blinked in the darkness, and
when her eyelids rose her eyes, too, had changed. Their color a more pure gold.

"Justicer? You don't stand a chance." He pounced, the move a blur even to
eyes that could track and see much more then any human. Hands twisted into
claws ripped for her throat.

She dropped to her back and his pounce landed him squarely on the soles of
her waiting feet. She kicked out, sending him backward, to crash into one of
the light poles, denting the metal.

He had barely stood again before he was once more on his back. Her weight
was light on his chest, but her hands pinned his wrists to the black top,
her strength was way beyond expectations. Her eyes began to glow with their
own inner light. She snarled, showing him small, perfect fangs.

"Whelp!" She hissed into his face. "Never take on an Elder, even the most
hopeless of Childer knows that."

Elder? He squirmed, fear waking in his cold heart for the first time in
decades. 

"Where are your friends?" She moved so her face was only an inch from his.
Her eyes drew him in, pushing against his will.

She was pulling at his mind.. But she was not his master, he could not
betray the one he had oathed to. Blood bond dictated that. 

"Fuck you bitch." He snapped at her throat, only to have her move, too
quick, and tear out his own. He felt the pull in his body as she drew out
the Blood. Headhunter, diablerie, she was draining him. He felt his
too-short immortality slipping away into her deep and final kiss.

                                  *

The phone rang, and Scully answered.

"Scully."

"Agent Scully? This is Captain Hill of the twelfth precinct. I was told you
were investigating a certain kind of murder. We just found the body of a
local pimp. Rico Torres. His body was tossed in front of the El, C train's seven
o'clock run. Not much left of him. Still can't find his head. But the
fingerprints match and... there's no blood in the body."

Scully relayed the news to Mulder. "Want to go visit the ME?"

"You, me, a row a freezers... a headless dismembered corpse. What could be
better?" He stacked his files and went for his coat.

"Gee, sweet talk like that reminds me why I married you." She pulled on her
own coat with a wink.


end part 3...

Feedback *always* welcome. Flames used to keep chafing dishes warm...


========
Disclaimed in part 1.

WARNING: Graphic depictions of the aftermath of violence. 

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(part 4/?)


CLEVELAND MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE

The late Rico Torres had been sliced into five neat pieces, slightly singed
from the electricity of the El's tracks. The Police Chief had been correct,
there was little blood in the body. Scully would judge the time of death
only two hours prior to the autopsy. What bothered her most was the missing
blood. The condition of the neck was almost as bothering. It was not the
neat severing produced from the train's crushing wheels. His head had been
ripped from his shoulders. Jaggedly, violently ripped. Evidence from the
vertebrae would suggest his neck had been broken. It was unclear if that or
blood loss had killed him. He'd been dead before the train hit him though.

She watched Mulder's face as she told him her findings

"Looks like he REALLY pissed someone off." Mulder smirked. "So have you
determined the point of blood loss?"

"No. Although if it was from the Carotid or Jugular evidence would have been
obliterated by the fact that his head is missing, and the damage from tearing."

A young looking lab technician approached them as they spoke. "Agents Mulder
and Scully? Chief Hill just called. They found his head. It was mounted on a
stop sign on the corner most of his kids worked from." He handed them a paper
with directions on it.

Mulder took it and gave Scully his slight, lopsided smile. "I just love it
when we get ahead."

She walked away, shaking her head slightly.

                                        X

At the corner of Lakeside Avenue and 26th street they got past the police
tape and the guards by flashing their IDs. The head was as promised, perched
on top of a stop sign. Mulder winced at the sight but recovered with the
aplomb of one
accustomed to such sights. The sign itself embedded in the stump of neck.
There was not much blood at all just a single small stream dried to the
aluminum. Something sharp had scored the sign though, scratched into the
paint the words "THE FATE OF SCUM".

"Don'tcha just love a subtle killer." Mulder stepped back from the scene and
looked at Scully.

Scully shook her own bright head. "So we're looking for a superman
vigilante? If this is the same killer, why go after a ex prostitute trying
to clean up her act? It just doesn't fit."

"Not much about this case fits Scully." Mulder drew her away from the scene
as the forensics people swept the area. "Can you come up with a rational
explanation of how this killer, or killers can tear apart a human body?"

"If they are under the influence of certain drugs they might have surges of
superhuman strength. They would be unable to feel the muscle strain most
people experience when they over tax themselves." She met his eyes
unflinchingly.

"Why did they drain the blood? And how? And the sixty four thousand dollar
question is... what did they do with it?" He gestured to the stop sign, now
devoid of it's burden. "A man like that has so many enemies tracing them will
be next to impossible. But I know who I'd want to talk to first. Arianna
Llewellyn."

Scully actually laughed. "Mulder, the woman is four foot eleven and might
weigh ninety pounds soaking wet with her clothes on. Do you seriously think
she'd have the strength to pull this off? Even under the influence of drugs the
human body has it's limitations."

"I've heard stories of ninety pound housewives lifting cars off their
husbands when the jack gave way and fell on him. Hysterical strength."

"No way! Oh I know the stories, and I even accept the principle behind them.
But," Scully made a chopping motion with her hand, "what would have
triggered this kind of reaction? What stimuli? Anger? Not after three days."

"All right, I'll grant you that Ms. Llewellyn herself most likely could not
have done this... but she might be able to contact the kind of people who
can. Revenge Scully. She suspects this guy of killing Karla Morris and
possibly Douglas Wilson. He's been getting runaways and throwaways on drugs then
tossing them into the street to hook for him.

"Did you know who founded and pays all the bills of Tyche House? Arianna
Llewellyn. From what I can see she's independently wealthy, and a good deal
of her money gets put into keeping the safehouse up and running."

"Mulder... everything you just said... that makes her one of the GOOD guys.
In my book she should be put up for sainthood, not suspected of hiring
circus freak strong men to kill people. Especially not the very people she's
protecting." Scully's jaw was firmly set. "We'll check her out... but I'm
telling you now Mulder, I don't think you could be more wrong."

"I don't know Scully. There was just something about that woman..."

                                   X

TYCHE HOUSE CHILDREN'S SHELTER

Kimmy looked up from her homework. She was in the main room with several of
the others. But unlike the other, older kids she wasn't lost in the antics
of Star Trek on the boob tube. She had noticed the small figure dart past
the doorway without a sound.

Closing her geography book, marking her place with her pencil, Kimmy slipped
quietly from her chair. Pulling her blonde curls back in a scrunchie she had
worn on her wrist she headed off down the hall.

She heard the distant sound of the showers running in the girl's facilities.
She was very careful when she opened the door, hoping the sound of the
running water would cover her movements. Silently she moved to the stall issuing
steam, and looked at the floor. The water was pink, little swirls of blood
flowing down the drain.

That much blood simply did not come from women's courses. Propelled by the
fear that someone was hurt, or trying something stupid, she kicked open the
door and faced a startled Arianna.

Kimmy swallowed hard. Ari's skin was always pale but it was shockingly white
compared to the streaks of blood down her front, over her small breasts, her
flat stomach.

"Are you hurt?" Kimmy asked in a small voice. "Did... did one of those
bastards out there rape you?"

Arianna's face was a mask of startled surprise, but it quickly transformed
into her most reassuring smile. "Oh no kiddo. You don't have to worry about
me." Ari moved quickly to the door of the stall, looking around the rest of
the bathroom. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you come in, out of the corner of my eye. I followed you here." Kimmy
was not convinced that her friend and mentor was all right however. "I'm
gonna go get Mrs. Malkovich." She indicated the on site nurse.

"No! I'm fine Kimmy. Kimmy, look at me." Kimmy felt Ari's hands on her
shoulders, and she only had to look up the slightest bit to see Ari's pale
violet eyes. "Kimmy. You didn't see anything unusual tonight." Ari's voice
sounded like it was coming from far away. Her eyes, they weren't yellow, they
were purple weren't they? "You just left to go to the bathroom. You will
leave here and go back to what you were doing, completely forgetting you
ever saw me."

Kimmy nodded solemnly. Her eyes had a slight glassy cast to them as she
turned and walked to the door.

Ari stepped back and rested her head against the plastic stall wall, letting
the water wash away the evidence of tonight's work. She mentally stomped on
the wave of self loathing she felt for manipulating Kimmy. The poor child didn't
deserve it. It had been concern that had brought her here.

Once she was clean Arianna carried a small plastic bag containing her
clothing into the basement, to the incinerator.

                                        X

It was almost two when Arianna heard the knock at her office door. She was
not surprised.

"Come on in, there is no current session." Ari looked up from her desk to
see the two figures she expected walk into the room. 

Ari's office was decorated much like a living room with a desk. The desk was
not the battle ship gray metal kind as was in the main reception hall. No
this one was particle board covered in wood grain paper. The ink blotter was
a large calendar with a triple A logo on top, and her computer was an old
MAC. The sofa and chairs were second hand, and the carpet was stained in
places. She saw agent Mulder take it all in. What HAD he been expecting? She
mentally frowned, just how much did he know or guess?

"Ms. Llewellyn, I'm afraid we have to ask you a few more questions." Mulder
met the eyes of the small woman behind the desk. Her head tilted to the side
questioningly.

"Anything to be of assistance. Do you always make your business calls at
such... ungodly hours?" She smiled slightly. He was more open minded and
intelligent then she had originally surmised. Her smile surprised even her.
She supposed her subconscious was acknowledging the game being played out here.

"We do in cases like this. Besides I remembered your odd hours here." His
eyes held a challenge. Arianna did not move, her gaze was unwavering.
Unnerved he looked away. Arianna had the feeling that didn't happen to him
often by the stiffening of his spine. Ah, resentment at being bested in such
a simple thing as a basic stare down.

"We'd like to know if you could tell us your whereabouts at approximately
ten o'clock this evening." Scully took over, frowning at Mulder.

"I was here of course. Working. May I ask why?"

Mulder looked back at her, he wasn't about to give up so easily. "Rico
Torres was found murdered this evening."

"I see. Forgive me if I don't shed tears of grief. I hope he got what he
deserved." Arianna stood and circled her desk. "So you suspect me of killing
him." It was not a question.

"We don't have any official suspects yet. But his death is tied to the Karla
Morris case." Mulder crossed his arms.

Arianna sighed. She really didn't feel like having a pissing contest right
now. She looked at agent Scully, noticing that the woman had herself
schooled into an appearance of complete neutrality. However little things
gave her away, tiny lines on her face, her breathing, even her pulse rate.
She wasn't sure what was going on. She didn't accept her partner's behavior,
but she was doing everything she could to back him up.

"I suppose it would be convenient if I had an alibi." She shook her head
sadly. "Although I was within the building tonight had gone much better then
any of us expected. None of the children came to me. I have been doing
paperwork, most of it trying to get some of our younger guests social
security cards. I can show you the forms... but that's the best I can do." 

"Well an alibi might have helped. Mr. Sullivan was on a date at the time, he
has a restaurant staff as well as his fiancee to back his story." Mulder
stepped closer and looked down at the government application forms on
Arianna's desk.

"Unfortunately my social life is rather... dead." Arianna looked at Mulder
with a touch of amusement. She saw that he was getting angry under his cool
exterior. She heard his heart speed up.

Part of her was deeply impressed. He actually suspected. He was open enough
to see the truth and his attention had focused on her. He was close, too
close. He was so very correct in some respects, but off base with others.
She would have to lead him a merry chase, keep him interested in her enough
to keep him off the real track. But his ability to suspect what she was made
him as dangerous as her true prey. Any proof and he would pierce the
Masquerade and his life would be forfeit. How does one protect someone from
themselves? His near grasp of the situation made her long for someone to
talk to, as Kim had offered before. It couldn't hurt to tease, to keep him
focused on herself.

"Ms. Llewellyn, are you trying to play a game with me?" 

Ari was not expecting an outright challenge. She gave him points for
throwing her off balance for a brief moment.

"What is it you suspect me of agent Mulder? Murdering a  pimp? Killing the
children under my care? Being an inhuman monster?" Her lips twitched into
that tiny smile again as his eyes widened slightly. Good, he took the bait.
Now to keep him on the line. "Life is a game agent Mulder. If you stay alive
and achieve some degree of happiness you win. If you die of anything but a
natural death or lead a miserable life, you loose. The point system is based
on friendships and love, and how much happiness you managed to spread in the
course of the game." No need to be cruel as she did what must be done. Let
him think on her words. If he could find some peace of mind, in what she
could see was his troubled soul, then she had done better then she hoped.

"Did you pick that up from a greeting card?" His voice was almost a whisper
next to her.

"No, I learned it the hard way. You want to know why I am here. Why I try to
save these children. You are intelligent Mr. Mulder, I'm sure you and your
partner here have by now uncovered that I am the primary source of finances
for Tyche House." Ari looked to Scully again and noted the slight nod of the
woman's head. 

"I inherited the money from the woman who saved me. I was once each and
every one of these children. I was bought and sold for coin. My body and my
sense of self stolen from me by a father who saw me as a way to bring in
money with no effort to himself. I know each and every hell these children
are in, because I've been there myself. You will never know what such
humiliation, desperation and abuse can do to the human soul. And I am glad.
Yes, I have every reason to despise the predators who use these children, to
even want to see them dead. But I would never do a thing to harm any of my
charges." Arianna turned from them then. 

What had possessed her to say such things? Dear God, she had spoken only
truth, but a truth very few living beings knew. She had bared herself in
earnest. True, these two would most likely see through lies. And what she
had said WOULD keep them at least partially focused on her as suspect. But
she had never risked her sense of self like that before.

"How far would you go to protect them Ms. Llewellyn? Would you seek
vengeance for them?" Scully asked from her place in the center of the room.

"I have every faith that justice will prevail." Arianna cocked her head to
the side.

"Your own justice or that of law enforcement?" Mulder asked bluntly.

"I have respect for law enforcement Mr. Mulder. If it can catch the person
or people responsible - it will." 

Arianna could see that both agents were fully aware that her answers were
evasive. She also saw the beginnings of true suspicion in agent Scully's
eyes. So, the woman had not thought her capable of the killings. >If only
you knew...< Ari thought to herself.

Eventually they saw that they wouldn't get much else out of her and made
their leave. Arianna closed the door behind them with a sigh.

"Quite a show. You should have sold tickets." 

Ari spun to see a man sitting in the chair behind her desk. She smiled  a
bit. She should have known. She would recognize the long, lean form
anywhere. The long, heavy waves of blond hair pulled back into a braid, the
neatly clipped and pointed beard, the intense grey eyes.

"Hello Jared. Are you here to try and warn me off?" Ari crossed her arms.

end part 4...


========
Disclaimed in part 1.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(Part 5/?)

"I was afraid I'd be dragging you before the council after that little
fiasco in the hotel parking lot." His gaze knifed through the air between
them. Ari would not bow, however. She would NOT be ashamed of what she had done.

"You were following me?" She arched a brow.

"No, I was following King. That was the name he went by anyway. I had no
choice but to report it, however. The Prince was not too happy. He sent me
here, not to tell you a blood hunt has been issued, but to give you this."

Jared Malcom stood and Arianna was irritated that she had to look so far up
at him. He was six foot five, and had been considered a giant in his day. He
held out four cards.

Ari took them with a frown and looked at them. They were old, hand painted
playing cards. An ace, king, queen and jack, all of spades. The king card
had been torn in half. 

"Sabbat." Jared spoke the single word and Ari felt the fine hairs at her
nape rise.  He watched her reaction and nodded. Good, she realized how
dangerous this was. "They call themselves the House of Cards. You just
reduced the deck by one tonight. But they hide well. We haven't been able to
track them far. The Prince knows you want vengeance, so he is withholding
the general call for Blood Hunt. It's more... economical... for you to
handle it if you can. He  gives you free reign in this matter. But these
anarchs cannot be allowed to continue. If you go down, we will take over."

Arianna nodded. She didn't know if she was happy to be given the opportunity
to taste full vengeance or angry that the Prince was using her to take care
of his own problems.

"How much do you know of them?" Arianna looked at her old friend as he sat
on the arm of her office couch. He tended to sit in her presence, a small
gesture of respect so she didn't have to crane her neck to look at him.

"They have hit several cities, last time it was New York. They get chased
out, but until tonight no one has actually killed any of them yet. I imagine
their leader, Ace, will be very pissed off about that."

Ari grinned without humor. "Let him come after me. He is the one who killed
Karla. I want to rip his cold heart from his body, to stake him out to watch
the rising sun. I want him to go slowly into final death."

"And that's why I try not to piss you off, chere'. If you didn't have a
heart as big as the city itself you would be the most ruthless Kindred I know."

"Flattery will get you nowhere. Can you give me anything else on this House
of Cards?" Arianna tossed the cards onto her desk.

"Nothing much. I latched onto King by luck more than design. I had HOPED to
follow him back to their lair." He sighed. "You kinda made that hard."

"Can't win 'em all Jared. So, are you planning on giving me material support
or just information?" Arianna smirked a bit. She wondered how far Jared was
permitted to go, and how much further he would go for her personally.

"If I happen to be in the neighborhood at a time you appear to be having
trouble... I might pop in to share in the fun. But I have no such orders."

Arianna crossed to stand next to the seated Jared, leaning forward she
kissed his cool cheek. "Thank you. But if I ask you a favor, would you be
willing to do it?"

"If it does not go against my orders..."

"It shouldn't. The two who just left here, they are getting in deeper than
they know. Their lives may be in danger. I believe this... King creature I
dispatched was tailing them even as you were tailing him. They are pure
hearted and true. She carries a child. They deserve protection. If I am...
hunting, I cannot be watching. Will you guard them for me?" Arianna would
not beg, but that she requested this much spoke volumes.

"They are FBI, are they not? How close are they?" Jared's eyes narrowed.

"They appear to be married." She blinked innocently and laughed at Jared's
annoyed look. "The man, Agent Mulder, is surprisingly open-minded. He is
closer than most would find comfortable. This would make guarding them that
much more difficult. Agent Scully, however, is too rational for such flights
of fancy as her partner follows. I claim them as Protected under my blood."
Ari's eyes cut into Jared's. He nodded. He would pass the word. With such a
claim, Ari was taking responsibility for them, and anything they learned as
well. "As they are so claimed I give you permission to carefully edit any...
inconvenient memories they may have should the need arise, but only if there
is no other choice to protect ourselves."

Jared grinned. Arianna was practical for the most part. She could not have
survived so long if she were not. He leaned forward and captured the small
woman's mouth in a deep, erotic kiss. He punctured his tongue with the tip
of one fang, and passed to her the essence of his blood. He tasted the
answering sweetness of her older essence, rich and satisfying, wrapping
through his mouth and his veins.  No other but the Prince captivated him so. 

Ari broke the kiss with a small smile.  "If I kept you here for more those I
charge to your care would go unprotected." With the freshness of the recent
blood bond as catalyst she mentally fed him the way to their hotel. "Go, you
incorrigible rake. Keep them out of trouble for me."

                                   X


"Well?" Mulder looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye.  It was
dark, and she was visible only in the flashes of streetlights or the
headlights of oncoming cars.

"All right, the whole conversation was strange. But if she's trying to hide
something she's not doing a very good job of it. She seems too intelligent
to really be that inept." Scully crossed her arms, one finger tapping
against the other arm as she considered. "Then again she could just be
cryptic on a daily basis." 

She smiled at the look Mulder gave her. "Ok, I don't buy it either. She may
know more then she's saying. Maybe she's trying to protect someone... or
she's being threatened. That might explain why she was almost deliberately
suspicious."

"You think someone is threatening her or Tyche house? It's a possibility.
But she didn't strike me as the type to take being threatened with such
equanimity." Mulder drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he pulled
into their hotel parking lot. He frowned. 

"Scully, was that lamp post dented like that when we signed in?"

She followed his eyes to the post in question. "So someone hit it. Come on
Mulder, I'm tired. It's been a long day." She got out of the car and headed
for their room.
                                      X

>From the roof he watched them exit the car. The woman's bright head shone in
the artificial light. He smiled to himself; he hadn't seen such a brilliant
red since he attended the court of his Queen at the end of her reign. Ah,
but by then Gloriana was wearing a wig, a midlife bout with smallpox
divesting her of her natural crowning glory. The woman's suit, however, was
a transitivity. It hid most of her femininity in drab tones and a cut surely
designed to downplay her figure. Or the first show of the new life within
her growing. How he  despised such modern conventions. Especially on a lady
of such potential. He allowed himself to momentarily envision the small lass
in the silks of his age, the rustling skirts over a farthingale. It would
have been a vision indeed. He sighed to himself over such useless whimsy.
Stroking his clipped, pointed beared he made note what room below him the
two occupied. 

Closing his eyes he listened, picking the rhythm of their heartbeats out
from those of their neighbors. Two loud, steady rhythms almost obliterating
the third, faster beating organ. Sitting himself as comfortably as he could
Jared prepared himself for a boring morning of playing nursemaid. He'd leave
as the sun rose. Secure in the knowledge that those who would harm his new
charges shared the same disadvantages as he did.

                                      X

HOLIDAY INN - CLEVELAND AIRPORT
8:00am

Scully finished with her hair and passed Mulder his jacket as the banging
started on their hotel room door.

Mulder opened it to be faced with two faces, one gaurded, one openly smiling.

"We decided to drop by and take you out to breakfast." Hope swept past
Mulder into the room to embrace Scully. "Wow, Dana, you look great." She
motioned the smaller girl in. "Guys, this is Karen Haas. Karen, this is
Mulder and Scully."

"You're married and still call each other by your last names?" Karen smirked.

"Karen, I told you they were wierd, it covers a multitude of sins." Hope
winked and grabbed Mulder's arm. "Come on, there's this great restaurant not
far from here with a killer breakfast buffet."

"All right. I'm sure we can spare some breakfast time." Mulder looked at
Scully, who nodded. 

"Personally, I'm starved," she added.

"Then let's go."

The restaurant was small and homey. The buffet was, as promised, packed with
more food varieties of food than should be legal.

"So, are you getting anywhere with this case?" Karen finally asked. Mulder
had to give her credit, she'd held out twenty minutes after meeting them.

"I'm sorry, Karen, I can't tell you that. Why don't you tell us about Karla?"
He tore into a link of breakfast sausage much to Hope's obvious amusement.

"What do you want to know?" Karen drank down her coffee and signaled the
waitress for more. "That she had nightmares? That her momma let her
boyfriends have their goes at her since she was twelve? That she and I used
to shoot up for a mutual escape?"

Mulder and Scully had stopped eating. "I'm sorry, Karen."

"Why? There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You weren't MY father. You
weren't any of Karla's momma's boyfriends. You were never any of our
customers. You didn't give Rico free reign. You are the people who try to
put a stop to all the crap in the world. There's nothing for you to be sorry
about. If you want to be pissed off, fine, be pissed off, but don't be
sorry. Don't apologize for what you can't change, change what you can."
Karen nodded to the waitress as she filled her cup.

"This sermon has been brought to you by the Reverand Karen Hass, feel free
to leave a donation at the door," Hope intoned into her spoon. That got a
muffin tossed at her head by a smiling Karen. "Hey, Dana, drink your OJ,
isn't it supposed to be great for the passenger?"

Scully shook her head. "That's before pregnancy. But I may need the sugar
before the day's out." She sipped at the juice.

"So when is the current due date?" Karen asked, turning the conversation to
lighter things.

"December 21st. It's going to be a Christmas baby."

The meal was interrupted by a ringing cell phone. Mulder and Scully looked
at each other. 

"Mine." Mulder reached into his suitcoat and extracted the offending object.
"Mulder."

He listened for a while made a few perfunctionary remarks then hung up.
"Sorry ladies, we gotta go. Scully." 

Scully slid out of the booth followed by Mulder. "We'll get the tab, just
eat and enjoy."

"Duty calls." Hope smiled weakly. "Um... let me know when you have time. I
already know our weekend plans are shot."

"Sorry, Hope. I wish..." Mulder spread his hands.

"I know. Comes with the territory. Go. Do FBI things." She waved them off.

Mulder payed the tab at the cashier and opened the door for Scully.

"What do we have this time?" Scully asked as they headed for the car. 

"Four street people from a homeless camp on the west side."

"Four? Our killer is escalating."

"Killers, Scully, there is no way a single killer could tear apart four
people." Mulder stated grimly as he started the car.

end part 5...


========
Disclaimed in part 1.

This section describes *graphic* scenes of the aftermath of violence. Please
be warned. It is SUPPOSED to be uncomfortable and sickening. If you are
easily offended please skip this part.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(6/?)

ALLEY BETWEEN 9TH AND 10TH STREETS
WEST END, DOWNTOWN 
CLEVELAND, OHIO

The alley stank of garbage, excrement and vomit. As soon as they walked past
the police tape Scully froze and braced one hand against the rough brick,
graffiti-covered wall. Mulder paused. 

"Are you ok?"

She nodded, but her lips were pressed into a tight line. "The smell. It just
hit me wrong." She was, in fact, fighting valiantly to keep her breakfast.
It wasn't the first time in the last three months smells had effected her,
but it was, so far, the worst incident. 

"You can wait back in the car. The smell won't be so bad at the coroner's
office."

She shook her head and stiffened her spine. "I'm fine, Mulder. I can do my job."

"I wasn't suggesting you couldn't. I was just..."

"I'm FINE." She swept past him and smiled at the first officer on the scene.

The alley had housed a small community of homeless by the looks of the
wooden crates, blankets and cardboard boxes. What it held now was a carnal
house.

Splatter patterns decorated the graffiti ridden brick walls like an obscene
expression of modern art. Pieces of bodies were thrown about.

Mulder crouched next to a leg. It was still encased in its filthy trousers.
It had no foot, and had appeared to be ripped off at the hip joint. The only
blood was what soaked the edges of the trousers. Not nearly enough for the
damage done.

"It's like a fuckin jigsaw puzzle." The plainclothes cop behind him
announced over his shoulder. "Only way we know fer sure there's four victims
is by a head count. Literally." He lifted a blanket to Mulder's left. It had
served as a door to a packing crate house. The head of a grizzled man in his
late fifties screamed silently from a metal dog dish. "I'm Detective
Sullenburger." He used his free hand to shake Mulder's.

"Fox Mulder," He inclined his head to where Scully was examining a torso,
"Dana Scully."

"What brought in the feds to this little party?" Sullenburger asked.

Mulder took over holding up the blanket to examine the head. It hadn't
fallen there, or been tossed into the bowl, but placed, so that it faced the
opening. A sick joke.

"Similar slayings in New York." 

Scully crouched beside him. She was pale, but it was the only indication of
her previous discomfort.

"Three male, one female. The men were all crudely castrated as far as I can
tell, " she smiled slightly as Mulder and Detective Sullenburger winced,
"and the missing... organs were inserted into the female's orifices.
Ritualistic?"

"Insane," Mulder muttered. "No real pattern for a ritual. But there is
posing involved. Still no idea how the victims are torn apart?" 

She shook her head. "I wasn't able to identify anything but post mortem
bruising in the configuration of fingers and hands. I was able to spot at
least two different sizes of these finger marks, which supports your theory
of more than one killer. But as to HOW they can pull apart a human body? I
have no idea."

A stick thin and malnourished mutt darted out from between two crates and
began to lick at a too-small pool of blood. It's little pink tongue dipping
into the dark, clotted mass. A uniformed cop kicked it out of the way. 

Mulder turned back to Scully to see her scampering away before crouching
beside a dumpster and losing her fight with her breakfast.

He was at her side immediately.

"I'm fine, Mulder,"she wiped at her mouth.

"Bullshit. Just because your stomach is no longer made of cast iron doesn't
mean you are any less of an agent. You breezed through the autopsy last
night. The smell and sights here have ME wanting to run for some pepto. You
go back to the car." His hand rubbed up and down her back, "Once these are
bagged and tagged and cleaned up you get to go to work."

She nodded stiffly and walked back to the car. Her whole carriage displaying
an unspoken anger. She was far from happy with this.

"Some people can't take it," Sullenburger muttered from around his cigarettes.

"She's a pathologist." Mulder felt the need to defend her. "It's just that
she's pregnant, and things that never affected her before are affecting her
now."

The cop nodded. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend. Know what it's like though.
My wife was tossin it every time she smelled pine sol when she was carryin
our first." He eyed Mulder. "This yer first?"

Mulder was taken aback for a moment. Gut instinct being to throw the cop off
the scent, then remembering it didn't matter anymore, that they were married
and carried an unofficial stamp of approval.

"Yea, it's our first." He nodded. Hope didn't count in regards to the
question and Mulder felt a pang of guilt. He hadn't been there when her
mother was going through all this bullshit. 

"If the smell gets to 'er again, get some strong fruit flavored hard candy,
like Jolly Ranchers. Tell her to suck on the candy and breathe through her
mouth. Only thing that worked with my Linda." Sullenburger moved away from
Mulder and started shouting orders to a team of forensic specialists.

CLEVELAND MEDICAL EXAMINER'S OFFICE

Scully emerged from a side room and tucked a few stray strands of hair up
into her surgical cap. 

"Scully, wait." Mulder caught her shoulder.

"Mulder, I'm fine, I can do this." Her stare was angry and defiant.

Mulder held up his hands. "Didn't think you couldn't." He dug into his
pocket and brought out a small bag of Halls Menthol cough drops. "I was told
today that if you suck on candy and breathe through your mouth when smells
get to you then they aren't so bad. And I happened to recall you have a
particular taste for menthol."

The anger evaporated into a wry smirk. She smacked his arm but took the
proffered bag. "Mulder, you are the only man alive who can twist innuendo
into a gentlemanly gesture."

"I try." He grinned. "While you're here I have a funeral to attend. Maybe
the killers will attend Karla's funeral to gloat." Looking out the window to
the clear afternoon sky he shook his head. "I doubt it though. I'm laying
odds I won't see Arianna Llewellyn either."

Scully snorted. "So now she's a vampire? Mulder I think you should read less
Stoker and more of your psychology magazines."

"Stoker's boring... now Anne Rice... there's a woman who knows how to use
words." 

Scully tied on her mask. "Mulder, having me read you Exit To Eden over the
phone does NOT count as reading Anne Rice." She disappeared through the
doors leading to the morgue before he could retort.

JACOB-DAVIS FUNERAL HOME

Mulder sat next to Bill Sullenburger. They were not the only police
presence, two more officers were outside. They were all trying to blend in,
but failing. Mulder knew they all stuck out like swollen joints. 

The mourners were mostly eighteen and under with the exception of teachers,
and staff from the Tyche House, and a few people in their mid-twenties.
There was a solidarity among the small gathering, and many tears. It was a
depressing scene, made more so by the lack of a casket. Only a picture of
the deceased on a small table surrounded by flowers. Flowers, arrangements
in all shapes and sizes adorned the small room, the air was sickly sweet
with their fragrance. 

Mulder saw Hope come through the door. Karen Haas walked between Hope and a
young woman who made him think of Kes on Star Trek: Voyager. Same general
build, same blond haircut. Normal ears, though. Hope and the other girl each
held one of Karen's hands.

Hope saw Mulder and gave him a small nod as she walked with Karen over to a
group of kids. Karen said something to her companions then began talking,
tearfully, with the group who had been waiting.

Hope patted Karen's shoulder then crossed to Mulder. 

"Glad you could make it. Karla would be pleased." Hope sat next to Mulder,
trying to help him and Detective Sullenburger blend in a bit more.

"How's Karen holding up?" Mulder smiled slightly in appreciation.

"It's hard to tell. She gets these quiet moments when I can tell she's
hurting, but then she bounces back into her usual gregarious self." She
looked back at her friend. "Ruthie and I are going to take her out tonight,
try to get her mind off it."

"Just be careful." Mulder could no more stop himself from saying it than he
could stop his own heartbeat. Just as he was sure Hope couldn't stop the
obligatory eye roll.

"Yes, DAD." She crossed her arms and shook her head at the gathering.
"Remind me to arrange for a good old Irish Wake for my own funeral. Lots of
loud music, food and maybe a laser light show. I hate these things. You
leave feeling worse than when you entered."

"I don't think enjoying yourself is part of the funeral plan." Mulder chided.

"Why not? A funeral is for the living not the dead. The dead are gone on to
a better place. It's the living who are trying to let go, to say goodbye."
Hope shrugged. "I don't feel any gaping hole in my life that Daddy didn't
have a funeral. I said my farewells at his grave side, but I could have done
THAT just as well anyplace at all. I try to remember him with joy and
happiness. I miss him, and the place he left is a dull ache I don't think
will ever really go away, but he wouldn't want me to wallow in misery.
This," she waved her hand at the room, "is wallowing in misery just for the
sake of wallowing."

"Some people find tears cathartic," Bill Sullenburger chimed in.

Hope smiled at him. "I suppose. But I'm the type who wants their tears to be
private, not a floor show, not forced because I feel I SHOULD cry, just
because everyone is watching me and expecting it. Grief is an emotion, not
an obligation."

"And who is this charmer?" Sullenburger's sarcasm wasn't lost on either Hope
or Mulder.

"This is Hope Jamison. My daughter." The last was said carefully. Mulder
still felt the word strange on his tongue, the concept alien to his psyche.
He felt the deep connection to Hope, the fierce protectiveness, the endless
guilt of not knowing her... but the idea of having a teen-age daughter was
still one he was acclimating himself to.

"I thought you said that..." Sullenburger looked embarrassed and confused.

"Scully is having OUR first. Hope, here, was a surprise package."

Hope nodded. "My life is a soap opera. Nah, the soaps would toss out this
story as too weird."

Karen had left her group of friends and joined Hope.

"See anyone out of place? Anyone you don't know?" Mulder asked more out of
form then any feeling he'd luck out. It was too light out for the killers to
gloat now.

"No. I can name everyone here." Karen looked sadly at a thin blonde little
girl. Mulder recognized Kimberly Elko, Tyche House's current youngest resident. 

"Are you done?" Hope nudged her friend.

"Yeah. I said goodbye. Ruthie says you two plan on kidnapping me. Isn't that
a federal offense?" Karen looked at Mulder.

"Only if they don't bring you back," he answered, deadpan. "Where is Ms.
Llewellen? I'd hoped to talk to her."

"Ari?" Karen shook her head. "She hates funerals. She said her good byes
privately."

As Hope, Karen and Ruthie left so did the entertainment value of the
surveillance. It got depressing again fairly quickly while Mulder ruminated
on the daylight absence of Tyche House's mistress.

end part 6...

Feedback welcomed and encouraged.



========
Disclaimed in part 1...

Rated a STRONG *R* due to graphic depictions of violence and language. An
nc-17 part is also planned and will be marked accordingly.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(part 7/?)

Scully peeled off both pair of surgical gloves and nodded to the Diener,
Kevin Jones. The longtime employee of Cleveland's ME began the clean up
procedure as Scully removed her scrubs and deposited them in the biohazard
waste bin.

She crunched the cough drop in her mouth as she reached for the toxicology
files that had been rushed through. She'd been busy for the last six hours
and hadn't gotten to them yet.

Her phone rang as if on cue. She had the suspicion Mulder had worked out the
approximate time she'd need for each autopsy and only called when she was
done. When it was clear. When he didn't have to watch. 

"Scully." She crunched the cough drop again by way of telling him she'd used
him method and was grateful for the gesture.

"Guess who never showed for the funeral?"

"President Clinton, Big Bird or Stephen Spielberg?"

"Ha, ha. Don't you think it's a little odd that the person in charge of the
Tyche House was conspicuous in her absence?"

"No, what I find odd is your assertation that's she's among the walking
dead. Guess what I found while you were sitting on your duff watching pretty
young things in little black dresses?"

"Damn, caught in the act. What, pray tell, did you find, Agent Scully."

Dana swallowed the last of the drop. "One of the victims was not homeless by
the quality of his clothes and condition of his Rolex. Which has eliminated
robbery as a motive by the way. Also, three of the victims had high levels
of heroine in their system, including our well-to-do male. Of them only Mr.
Well-to-do had scars and cellular buildup to suggest a regular habit. All
had a fresh intravenous needle mark in their left arm. The fourth, another
male, was one step away from an alcoholic coma, but no drugs."

"One male also had blood in his stomach. Not his type. I'm going to assume
he was forced to ingest it. Before you ask, it's normal blood, Mulder. Most
likely from the female. The sexual mutilation and posing appears to have
been staged post mortem.  And finally, ash."

"Bless you."

She smiled slightly. "Very funny. The ash seems to be the industrial grade
frequently used by municipal areas during the winter. There wasn't a lot of
it, but the interesting thing was one of our killers had long nails. This
person's nails cut into their victim as they were performing the
mutilations, and in those cuts were more traces of ash."

"Have I told you today that I love you?" His voice purred over the phone.

"Nope. Better not let your wife hear you talking like that. I hear she has a
mean temper."

A chuckle over the line. "So have you run a trace on what places in the city
stores industrial grade ash?"

"No. *I've* been busy. That's YOUR job." 

"Yes, ma' am. Hungry?"

"Yes. Plans?"

"Yes. Pick you up in... twenty minutes?"

"Yes." She hung up and went to wash up.

TINK'S NIGHTCLUB
7:30pm

Hope moved her straw up and down in her glass. Across the table Karen was on
her third beer, and Ruthie on her fourth. The music was loud, the lights
colorful and in constant motion, the drinks were... well how great could
7-Up get? Even with the twist of added lime? 

She smiled to herself as Ruthie whispered something into Karen's ear making
Karen erupt into laughter. Karen was not drunk, yet. Hope knew she was just
starting to get a buzz. Karen didn't get really drunk. She hated the total
loss of control. She'd lost control of so much of her life she clung to her
own sense of power, fiercely, now.

Drinking down the last of her soda Hope signaled their waitress. "Another
pop, please."

The woman looked from her glass to the Designated Driver sticker on the
strap of her sundress and nodded.

Hope smiled to herself as the woman left to fill the order. If Fox Mulder
knew Hope had a fake ID he'd most likely blow his stack and try to ground
her till she was thirty. Never in a million years would he believe she used
it to get into bars with her older friends then made herself their
designated driver, spending the nights scarfing free pop and assuring her
friends and acquaintances made it home in one piece. 

Nope, because she had it on the authority of a certain old journal that one
Fox Mulder used to have a fake ID and he didn't use it for altruistic
tendencies. He also had a taste for Scotch on the rocks or single malt
whiskey when not imbibing in Budwieser. If he had any idea just how many
incriminating tidbits Connie MacKenzie kept in her journal he'd be
mortified. Of course some little things Hope found out she just did NOT need
to know. What girl wants to know her father is a great kisser? Eeeew.

"Wanna dance?" Karen looked at Hope with a glimmer in her eye. Karen knew
that dancing was a shared passion.

Hope smiled slightly. Karen was all she had left. Her last link to her
entire life before now. She'd lost her mother too young, only two months ago
her fahter was taken from her. She never was one to easily make friends. In
grade school she had pleanty, but as she advanced too quickly kids her own
age avoided her, and the kids in her classes didn't want to hang out with a
'baby'. 

She thanked God she had been roomed with Karen in college. Karen didn't care
that Hope was just fifteen when they met. She saw Hope as a little sister,
and adopted her as readily as the Jamison's had. 

Now Karen was all that was left. Hope was uncertain of her future with the
Mulders. Oh, sure, Fox seemed to want to know her, to build something with
her, to feel responsible for her. But the fact was she would never be able
to be his kid the way the child Dana carried would be. He never saw her
first steps, never told her bedtime stories, never chased away the boogie
man under her bed. They had no past. They had to build from scratch. It
wasn't either of their fault, it just was. And it made for an uncertain
future at best.

"Three's a crowd." Hope answered as she smiled at Ruthie.

"Not in this place. Come on." Karen grabbed Hope's hand and pulled her along.

Hope found herself in a tight circle with Karen on one side and Ruthie on
the other.

The moved in pretty good synch at the end of the current song. Three female
bodies writhing fluidly, swept away by the strains of music. Three nymphs
tempting any satyr.

One song ended and other began. Hope grinned as she recognized the first
strains of Celine Dion.

/No more sadness./

How appropriate. As the heavy drumbeat came in, hips swayed in unison. An
unconscious sexuality rolled off the three in waves.

/I wanna be the one to make you happy. I wanna be the one to give you hope./

Hope spun, her arms over her head. She jumped to feel hands settle on her
waist. She found herself looking into fathomless pools of exquisite gray.
Eyes so light they picked up the color of each flashing strobe light. Eyes
that held her. Pinned her. Looked into her soul. Eyes framed by a face to
make Michelangelo weep. High cheekbones, fine, straight nose, a mouth that
could only be described as sensuous, pale, ivory skin all framed by a shaggy
cascade of pure black silk. His hair fell to below his shoulders. He wore a
leather jacket adorned with chains. His very essence screamed both danger
and desire. He was magnificent. And he began to dance with HER.

His hips moved with hers and his eyes captivated her. Grace like that should
be bottled. She began to grow warm under his frankly appraising gaze.

/You can't be sure of who you met. You just don't know what you might get.
Cause in these crazy times we live in, Love might turn into regret/

His hands were pale, long fingered and fine boned. Gentleman's hands. White
against her black dress. They began to slide up and down on her hips as he
pulled her closer. Excitement raced through her veins. This couldn't be
happening. Not to her. She was too tall, not enough chest, her jaw too
square. Her only good feature was her eyes, and she just remembered she
wasn't even wearing eye makeup.

She tore her gaze from his and looked to Karen who was grinning at her and
she caught a quick thumbs up as Karen spun herself and Ruthie away.

/But you could be the one to change my point of view./

Her dance partner smiled at her and angels wept. His body fitted to hers in
a way that weakened her knees. The dance moved to new levels. Ones she was
unsure of. Lost. She was lost in unfamiliar territory. Uncharted territory.
His hands slid up her sides. His thumbs brushed over the curves of her
breasts. It was blatant. She should slap him and stalk out. But his eyes
held her and she was helpless. He leaned into her. His lips brushed hers.
Cool against her flushed skin. Fleeting, yet shocking her to her core. He
was seducing her. 

His lips moved along her cheek and settled near her ear. 

"Sweetness. Innocence."

She backed away a bit, not out of his embrace, away from their dance, but
enough to look at his perfect face.

"Innocence? And you like corrupting innocence?" She challenged.

His laugh was rich and vibrated through her skin. "I like you, little girl."

His eyes seemed to blaze for a moment as his cool fingers brushed down her
throat.

Karen swayed into Ruthie with a secret smile. Her eyes darted back to Hope
and Mr. Beautiful. She frowned. Something was wrong. The way his hands
flowed over Hope. Hope would never... he was pushing too hard. Possessive.
She knew that body language. She knew that kind of guy. He was hunting. Not
Hope, he wasn't. She couldn't handle this kind of predator.

Karen moved herself and Ruthie over to their table. Her eyes met Ruthie's
and through eye signals she pointed out the trouble and the plan.

She picked up her full beer glass and walked towards Hope, swaying her steps
a bit, slowing her movements.

"Um... I don't think I should..." Hope was backing away and he was reaching
out. 

Karen stumbled over a nonexistent obstacle and spilled her beer over the
guy's Danzig t-shirt and rich-looking leather jacket. He let out a roar and
his face was magnificent in it's anger.

"Oops. Oh... I am soooo... sorry." She draped her arm around Hope's
shoulders. "Baby, go get the nice man some napkins." She giggled drunkenly.

Hope darted away quickly and Karen leaned into the guy. She winked
conspiratorially and smiled as if she'd drunk twice as much as she had. "She
with us, darlin. Sorry, I'm sure you're a real nice guy and all, but none of
us... swing in that tree, get me?" 

His eyes glared at her, making Karen want to sizzle up and curl away in a
wisp of smoke. "I think you are mistaken. About a great many things."

Hope returned with a pile of napkins from the bar. "I'm so sorry. Karen, I
think we better get you home now."

Hope wasn't fooled for a minute, and she shot her friend a thankful glance
before wrapping her arm about her waist as if to steady her walk.

Ruthie joined them, the three girls disappearing through the doors into the
night.

The man fumed silently until a raven-haired beauty lay a hand on his shoulder.

"The Innocent, Ace?"

Queenie flinched at the glare she got. 

"No." His eyes narrowed and looked at the door. "The bitch."

Queenie looked across the bar and nodded once at Jako.

end part 8...

feedback welcome.




========
Disclaimed in part 1...

Warning: *R* rating for violence and language throughout the story.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(part 8/?)

THE GILDED PHAN RESTAURANT
CLEVELAND, OHIO

The restaurant was small. The food was Vietnamese. The company was
unbeatable. The decor... was passable. They sat facing each other across a
serviceable wooden table on sturdy chairs. The walls were decorated with
Asian art prints and the doors were hung over with beaded curtains.

Scully wielded her chopsticks with the same precision she'd earlier wielded
a knife, with the same economy of movement. She lowered the utensils once
again into her little clay pot of com tay cam and stared at Mulder.

"What? Do I have soup on my tie?" He set down his bowl of shrimp and
watercress soup to look at the neckwear in question.

"I couldn't tell on a bet." She looked at the riot of purples, greens and
blues. "I was wondering why we're here eating a nice dinner and not out
touring Ash dumps."

Mulder nodded at her com tay cam and she obediently plucked a piece of
chicken up with her chopsticks and popped it into her mouth. He watched her
lips close over the tender, white meat and his mouth turned up at the
corners as lovely erotic thoughts flooded his brain.

"Mulder?" 

He snapped out of it with a sheepish look. "Because I have Sullenburger and
his people doing that. That's what the local PD is for, right?"

Her answering look was droll and told him she wasn't buying it.

"You need to eat, this stuff is different and healthy, and I like looking
after you once in a while. I'm willing to bet you didn't eat anything more
than a candybar from the ME's vending machine all afternoon."

Scully frowned. She hadn't. Mostly because she didn't want to humiliate
herself again, but then because she was so lost in the autopsies she just
hadn't thought about it.

"See. I know you too well," he continued, "so, I'm making sure you eat and
get myself fed as well. When we're DONE... then we'll find out what the PD
have come up with. Sullenburger said there is at least twenty five storage
sheds in the city and surrounding areas. So they have a wide search area."

                                     XXX

MUNICIPAL STORAGE SITE #8

Cory Chester looked over at his partner. Jeff Shultz looked back and
shrugged. This was the third storage site they'd hit tonight. 

Cory got out of the car and looked at the building. These things always
reminded him of an igloo covered in roofing tile. It was then that he
noticed the trucking door had been rolled up about a foot.

"Maybe we got lucky." He nodded to the opening. Jeff answered by pulling his
gun. 

"When I was praying to get lucky tonight this was NOT what I had in mind."
Jeff smirked.

"Oh? Jill cutting you off or somethin?" Cory brought out his own gun and the
two men approached the open truck bey door from the side.

"No." He whispered. "If her temp is up, then tonight is my lucky night
though." He winked in the darkness and Cory snorted.

Cory couldn't see anything inside, the faint light from the security lights
out here barely penetrated the opening.

He reached and pushed the door further upward. Three feet of space. He could
make out shapes and angles in the darkness, but not much else.

Then he heard the sob. It was the sound of a child. A crying child. 

Jeff looked at him. He'd heard it, too.

"Anyone in here?" Jeff called in and got a smack in the back of the head
from Cory for his effort. 

"Look, we're backlit, if it's our unsub, then he already sees us." Jeff
rationalized.

Cory sighed and climbed the metal ladder set into the wall. He ducked under
the bay door, sensing Jeff right behind him.

The sobbing was coming from the left.

"Police, come on out, with your hands where I can see them." Cory pointed
his Glok in the direction of the sound.

Jeff opened the bay door completely and the security lights flooded in. 

Cory saw a kid step out from behind some gas barrels. The boy was rail thin
and wearing jeans and a once white t-shirt now caked with mud. His hair was
blond, but matted. The boy sniffed again and rubbed at his nose. He wore
loose rubber bands of different colors as bracelets, and one braided leather
thong. A friendship bracelet they had been called in Cory's day.

"Are you hurt?" Cory asked, keeping his gun out. These days kids were as
dangerous as adults.

"It hurts," the kid muttered, looking at the floor, his shoulders shaking.

"What hurts? You got a name, kid?" Jeff moved to Cory's side.

"Doug. Dougie Wilson. And it hurts all over. In my head the most." The kid
swayed slightly.

Jeff tucked away his gun. "You're one of Ari Llewellyn's kids aren't you?
Son, she's been worried sick about you." Jeff managed to catch the kid as he
fell.

"Damn. Cory, call an ambulance." Jeff checked the boy's eyes, pulling open
an eyelid. "Shit... something weird..." 

Cory saw Jeff checking for a pulse as he turned and hurried to the car, with
its radio.

"Hurry, I can't get a pulse," was called from inside, "I'm gonna start CPR."

Cory opened the car door and grabbed the radio. "This is Echo Charlie 13
calling for immediate medical assistance at Municipal storage shed 8 on
Irvine. We have a white male, about twelve years old. He just collapsed and
has no pulse. Officer already starting CPR."

The dispatch answered. "Echo Charlie 13 we have an ambulance on its way. Any
indicators as to what caused the collapse?"

Cory thumbed the radio. "Yeah. Looks like the kid was on something. I think
he OD'd."

With a sigh, he tossed the radio back into the car and hurried back to
assist Jeff.

The storage shed was quiet. 

"Jeff how's he doi..." Cory stopped dead in his tracks and he pulled his gun
once more. 

Jeff Shultz was laying on the floor of the storage shed. His throat eas
gone. A ragged and surprisingly bloodless wound.

"Oh fuck..." Cory swept the room  as he backed to the open door.

Something slammed into him from behind. He rolled and found himself facing
the kid. He saw what Jeff had meant by 'something weird'. The boy's eyes
were yellow, and practically glowing. Bill started to bring his gun around
but the boy caught his wrist and squeezed. 

Cory cried out as he felt as well as heard bones snap. Whatthefuck? The boy
grinned down at him. His chin was covered with a dark wetness. Two of his
front teeth were sharply pointed.

"It doesn't hurt so much anymore." The boy darted forward with uncanny
speed. So fast Cory barely felt his throat being ripped away at all.

                                      X

A still shadow tsked from the open truck bay.

"Deuce, Deuce, Deuce... I thought we told you to stay put." Queenie stepped
over the first dead cop. "Come on. It's time to go home. Ace is not gonna be
happy with your between meal snacks..."

                                     XXX

Mulder thought the place was better decorated than most Christmas displays.
There was more flashing lights, anyway. Bathing everything in swirling reds.

Scully got out of the car first. They'd gotten the call as they were leaving
the restaurant. She noticed the glares directed at them right away. Open
hostility. Not good.

"What the fuck do you have us looking for, Mr. FBI?" One cop started towards
Mulder but a large black man stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. The
cop looked at the man angrily, but moved back.

"What happened?" Mulder approached the black man. Captain Hill.

"Two of my men are dead. Cory Chesterr and Jeff Shultz. They called in a kid
OD'd on drugs and when the ambulance got here the crew found both men with
their throats ripped out. Needless to say, you two are not real popular
round here right now."

"Captain Hill... I'm sorry about your men." Scully saw that Mulder had paled
under the color leaching police lights. "However, *I* didn't kill him, nor
did Agent Scully. What we have to do now is try to find who DID. Evidently
the ash lead was the right direction." Mulder gestured to the building. 

"Well we know one of the unsubs is a caucasian male around twelve years old.
That was the last thing we heard from Billy." Hill's voice was clipped. He
was angry. Neither agent could blame him. 

"Captain, we need to catch these... people... alive," Mulder stressed.

"Agent Mulder, every cop in this city wants a piece of these people now. I
don't think I can control the shoot first ask questions later response this
kind of thing brings out. I'm not sure I want to."

Mulder nodded. "I don't think it would do you any good anyway. Come on, Scully."

He stopped when Bill Sullenburger stepped into his path. "Look, Mulder, the
guys are pissed off. I'm pissed off. They need a focus for that, and since
we don't have the unsub here, you two just got the shit detail of being
their punching bags. I know it aint fair. But it's how it is." Billy
Shrugged. "I gotta go tell Cory's wife. Ya know, I went to high school with
him. He was a good guy. He didn't deserve this."

Mulder nodded. "I know. I don't have to like it, but I know." 

Billy looked over at the glaring faces of his coworkers. "Get outta here
before they get really violent, will ya?"

They retreated to the safety of the car.

"This was the last thing we needed. The whole Cleveland police force out for
blood and pissed off at us." She crossed her arms.

"Nope." Mulder started the car and backed away from the building. "THAT is
the last thing we needed." He nodded at the approaching news vans. The media
might only make passing mention of the deaths of transients and
ex-prostitutes, but they ate up stories of dead cops.

"Just great," she muttered.

                                   XXX

Jared had been trying to place the woman's face since he had resumed his
watch. She was strikingly familiar to him. But how he knew her was not
coming. He'd watched them eat, and followed them to the place that reeked of
blood. 

The storage shed was crawling with mortal police. He couldn't get too close,
and the scent of so many people covered the scent of whichever members of
the House Of Cards were here. Disappointing. He guarded his charges for Ari,
but his standing orders were if he came across any of the Sabbat to tail
them and find their refuge. 

He found himself following his current quarry too closely, he backed off
before he was noticed.

                                    XXX

KATHY HYLAND DORMITORY 
UNIVERSITY OF OHIO

Hope sank gratefully to her bed. "You know, trying to keep up with you two
is seriously endangering my moral integrity."

Ruthie laughed. "Hope, you've got it to spare. But I gotta admit, that guy
was HOT... and I don't even go for guys." She winked.

"He was dangerous." Karen  sat beside Hope and put her arm around her
friend's shoulders. "Never let a guy pressure you into doing something you
don't want to do. No matter how good looking he is."

Hope glared. "I wasn't planning on it. I'm not stupid, you know. I was
backing out of the whole situation when you rescued me."

"Yes, you were, and you were being too nice, open and honest about it. That
guy wasn't about to take no for an answer." Karen sighed and kissed Hope on
the cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm mother henning you again. Bad habit. Remind me to
break it some day. It's just that... I've lost one good friend this week, I
don't want anything to happen to another. OK?"

Hope nodded. "I understand. Now why don't you two get going. I'm gonna go
take a shower and wash the smell of the club off me."

Karen nodded. She looked at the clock. It was only eleven. "I'll be back by
midnight. I'm just gonna walk Ruthie back to her dorm. We'll most likely
stop in at the coffee shop for a few minutes and listen to the art students
philosophize." 

"If you're late I'll understand. Hey Ruthie," Hope stood and patted the
other girl on the cheek as she passed her on the way to the bathroom. "Just
remember Karen doesn't do that meaningless sex thing anymore. So if you
sleep with her make sure it means something."

She ducked into the bathroom just in time to avoid the pillow thrown at her.

end part 8...





========
Disclaimed in part 1.

Warning: This story is chock full of violent content. I usually do not
'show' the violence itself, but I do become rather GRAPHIC in depicting the
aftermath of it. If you don't think you can take it bail now. (actually if
you've read this far it's a little LATE) This part of the story, however,
does depict some of the violence itself.

Dogged Determination IV: Suffer the Children
by Rhondda Lake
(part 9/?)

Karen looped her arm through Ruthie's and smiled as they crossed the park.
She always felt more at ease with women than with men. Maybe because from
the age of twelve men had used her with no thoughts of her beyond her use as
a sex object. The only people she knew were other girls similarly used. A
sisterhood of misery. Once she found her way back to a life with a future
men still came off as wanting something. The really nice ones were few and
far between. Oh, she could admire the male form, even find a touch of lust
for it. But it was other women who were understanding. Not pushy. Willing to
let her set the pace. There was a gentleness to women that few men had. 

Ruthie personified that gentleness. 

"So are we gonna go listen to bad poetry at the coffee shop?" Ruthie asked
softly.

"If you want to. Maybe Kurt will be there tonight. He's actually very good.
It is usually worth wading through the other junk to hear one of his poems."

Karen nearly stumbled backward when the man materialized in front of them,
as if he'd dropped from the sky.

She recognized him instantly. The beautiful asshole from Tinks.

She felt Ruthie squeeze her arm and Karen noticed the others. Three others.
Another guy sporting a ridiculous mohawk and a nose ring, a woman and...

"Dougie!" Karen's eyes went wide. "Dougie, what's going on? Where have you
been?"

The boy looked nervous and he bit his lip. "Karen, I didn't know it was you.
I... I found Ace. I followed him. But I was caught."

"Such a touching reunion." Beautiful purred.

The group formed a circle around the two girls. They began to move counter
clockwise and chant. Only Dougie remaining silent, looking lost as he
partook of some strange ritual he didn't seem to understand.

"All around the Mulberry Bush, the monkey chased the weasel. All around the
Mulberry Bush..." Karen was moving from alarm to terror. She grabbed hold of
Ruthie and was about to push her to make a run for it when the woman of the
group surrounding them sprang forward. She buried her face into Ruthie's
throat and the girl let out a scream of fear and pain. "POP goes the weasel"
The others sang and laughed.

Karen froze for a moment of incomprehension, disbelief. Then she let out a
snarl of rage and she launched herself at the woman on top of her friend.
The grabbed a fistful of black hair and yanked backwards with all her might.
She felt hair tear loose as the woman roared back.

Karen screamed. Ruthie's eyes were wide, her pupils were dilated. She was as
pale as a ghost. A chunk was missing from her neck and blood pumped out in
time to her heart beat.

Karen felt herself pulled backwards. She screamed as bands of iron locked
around her arms, preventing her from helping Ruthie. 

The bitch who had attacked Ruthie laughed and bent back over the girl. Her
head bent. An obscene parody of a lover's caress.

Karen kicked out at whoever held her. "You limp dicked, VD infested, cock
sucking, motherfuckers!"

Beautiful backhanded her. Pain exploded along her cheek, her head snapped to
the side. The force of the blow sending her into merciful unconsciousness.

                                     XXX

Hope heard the sound of sirens growing closer. A curious peek out her window
showed flashing lights at the other end of the park. She closed her
comparative anatomy textbook. The clock at her bedside announced it was
12:30. She frowned. Joking aside, Karen was rarely late.

She felt her stomach clench. Something was wrong. Karen would have been
walking through the park, right? 

A sense of dread choked her as she pulled on her sneakers and wrapped her
robe around herself.

                                    XXX

Scully hung up her phone with a sigh. Mulder was looking at her sideways.
"What?"

She licked her lips, hesitating. That alone had him immediately alert.
"What?" he repeated.

"There's been an attack at Ohio State. Campus security heard screaming and
rushed to the scene. They found the body of a Caucasian female, one of the
students from a nearby dorm."

She saw Mulder pale, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He pulled
the car into a dangerous U-turn and pressed down on the gas. "Did they give
a description?"

Scully felt sick inside. "No. No description, no name. Mulder, the chances
of it..."

"Don't quote statistics at me, Scully. Not now." 

"It isn't her, Mulder." She tried to reassure him. When she touched his arm
she felt his muscles were wound tight as iron. 

"You don't know that." His clipped answer was the last words he spoke as
they drove. 

He saw the flashing lights on the campus. He drove to them and slammed on
the breaks. He was out of the car and running for the police gathering, not
willing to wait for Scully. 

She caught up to him. He was leaning over the covered form, looking beneath
the tarp as a uniformed cop babbled to him. He was unnaturally still, tense.

Scully swallowed the knot of dread in her throat and approached. She
released the breath she hadn't been aware of holding when she peered under
the tarp to see short, blonde hair.

"Mulder..."

"It's Ruthie."

"What?"

"Ruthie. She's... was Karen's girlfriend. She was with Karen and Hope tonight."

She saw him looking around the park. "Was this the only body found?" she
asked the uniformed cop and the two pale and shaking boys who she assumed
where the campus security.

"Yes ma'am. We didn't see much. Just followed the screams. What the hell did
that? Some sort of animal?" The taller of the boys asked.

Scully watched Mulder drop the tarp and slowly stand, looking across the
park. Her eyes followed his and she felt her heart hammer in her chest.
Relief, blessed relief. And what she felt could not be but a fraction of
what Mulder was feeling. She looked at him and saw his eyes tear bright, and
his hands shaking.

                                     XXX

She walked at a normal pace until she got to within a hundred yards of the
scene littered with ambulances and police cars. Then she saw Mulder stand up
from a covered form. He was lit by the lights of the police cars and
ambulance. She absently noticed the coroner's van. She broke into a run, her
robe flapping behind her, heedless that she was only wearing a pair of thin,
cotton pajamas.

Her heart skipped several beats. Mulder, Dana, both looking so strange,
their expression a mixture of grief and overwhelming relief.

"What happened?" She pushed passed a cop trying to stop her. 

Her answer was to be swept up in an embrace that bruised ribs and threatened
the integrity of her spine. She was taken aback by it, but wrapped her arms
around Mulder in return. He was shaking slightly. She felt his hand at the
back of her head, pressing her close. Through his clothes and trenchcoat she
could hear his own strong heart beat. 

"Dad?" She pulled away, and he released her with reluctance. His reaction
scared the shit out of her. Not that she minded. She'd learned fast that
Mulder was not an overly demonstrative person. Having him hold her felt
good, comforting, but that he had done it...

"Dad, what's going on?"

He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her away from the scene, from the
tarp covering what could only be a body.

"Ohmygod... no... no..." She began to shake. Please God, she prayed, Please,
not Karen. Don't take Karen away from me too. Let her be all right. Let her
be safe. Not Karen. Not Karen. Notkarennotkarennotkarennotkaren...

"Hope." Mulder's voice forced her to concentrate, to look at him, to meet
the eyes that hers mirrored. "Hope, we need to know if Karen is with you."

"Karen?" Her knees buckled. If he was asking that whoever was under that
tarp, it wasn't Karen. She was safe. Safe. Please let her be safe....

"Hope..."

"No, she was taking Ruthie back to her dorm, maybe stopping at the coffee
shop..."

Mulder looked to Scully and she nodded, moving to talk to the campus
security, asking after the coffee shop...

"What's happened?" She forced herself to be calm, to focus. Panic would
solve nothing.

"It's... it's Ruthie." His eyes were full of compassion. His hand never left
her shoulder and he gave her a small squeeze. "She was... she was murdered,
Hope. Karen didn't return?"

Hope felt her eyes fill with tears, her resolve breaking even as he spoke.
"No. Oh God... no, she never came back. She was late. She's rarely late."

"Ok, we are going to put out an APB on Karen. She isn't here, Hope. She
could be fine."

"You don't believe that. Don't feed me a line of bullshit. I need you to be
honest with me. The chances aren't good, are they?"

He shook his head. If Karen were not back at the dorm, the situation did not
look good for her.

Hope bit her lip, unaware that she'd drawn blood. Mulder, unsure what to do,
but needing to do something, anything, enfolded Hope in his arms once more.
She stiffened at first, then melted. She shook slightly, and he was aware of
her soft sobs. He stroked her hair and let her cry. He couldn't tell her
everything would be all right. He couldn't lie, not to her. 

He looked up to see Scully watching them. Her face sad, keeping her
distance. He nodded to her.

She approached slowly. "They never arrived at the coffee shop." Her words
brought a louder sob from the girl in Mulder's arms. They were like a
pronouncement of death.

                                   XXX

LOCATION UNKNOWN

Karen woke groggily. Her head pounded with pain. It shot from her cheek and
eye into her skull. She opened her eyes, startled only for a moment that one
of them wasn't opening. Swollen shut, she guessed. It wasn't the first time
she'd been hit. 

She felt cold, and shivered, trying to move her arms to hug herself. But her
arms wouldn't move. She stifled a cry when she took in her surroundings. It
was dark, and smelled of mold and sawdust. She was laying on cold concrete,
naked. Her arms were held to the floor by the punk with a mohawk.

"Wakey, wakey." He grinned coldly down at her.

Beautiful bent over her. She looked around and didn't see the woman who'd
killed Ruthie, or Dougie. Beautiful's smile made her skin crawl. He held
something up for her to see. 

"Yet another fallen angel I see." His cold fingers brushed down the track
marks on her arms. Old scars, faded now. The needle in his hand was a
familiar sight and she cried out. No. Not again. Not ever again. Please God.
If you are up there like Hope claims, not again...

Her prayer went unanswered as she felt the sting of the needle, the warm
flood of slow extacy move up her arm, pumping through her body.

"You shouldn't have interfered, bitch. By the time we're done with you
you'll beg us for death. An old whore, aren't you? Can't teach an old whore
new tricks." He reached for the buckle of his pants. 

Karen tried to kick him but he moved too quickly. Her glare was defiant, her
body tense. She knew she was not going to escape. Not this time. Her final
defiance was to leave that place. To float the warm waves of the drug, to
let it take her away, to the safe place. To the place inside herself she'd
discovered when her stepfather would sneak into her room as a child. The
happy place where no one could touch her or hurt her. Away from her body. 

Little did she know, the cold gray eyes that bore into hers could touch her
mind. She felt herself being pulled away from the safe place, away from the
escape. She screamed in despair. She screamed in defiance. She screamed in pain.

end part 9...

Feedback welcome. Flames used to warm my coffee.