Fanfic Time: Don't Pity Me part 41
Very much NSFW fic continued from yesterday:
Fracture Forty-One: A Little Slice
The little girl on the television screen would have appeared to have been playing with dolls, if one turned the sound down and ignored some of the positions she used.
Risty Wilde had her hand over her mouth.
A curly-haired blinking doll represented Hess. A velociraptor was her, a tyranosaur Kurt, and a small dinosaur in a glass bottle represented the baby that she called ‘brother Michael’. Kitty was a brown-haired dress-me doll.
This was the last 'game’. Dr Prinz had started with the earliest memories that Bluebelle could recall, and finished with the incident that ended in her rescue.
Only Risty knew why the little girl chose saurians to represent herself, her father, and her brother. They were the only dolls there that had tails.
So much had happened to her granddaughter.
Hess was going to *pay*.
As always, she took notes, all the better to torture Hess with. Hess was never 'mother’. She was always 'Mistress’ to Bluebelle. Hess made her wear a leash, and damn little else. Bluebelle didn’t remember ever wearing clothes. In cold weather, Bluebelle would huddle up in a nest of army blankets or help 'keep Mistress warm’ in Hess’ bedchamber.
Sick, sick stuff.
She had to keep notes. Had to keep tabs on what Hess did and to whom. Which faces belonged to the dead, and which to the living. How old they were when Hess started on them.
All the better to drive her mad.
*
“Nuggie! Nuggie? Where are you, you stupid little feather duster?" Evan looked under the furniture, in closets, in drawers. Nothing. No sign of the half-fledged McNugget anywhere.
All he found was Rahne trying to read a book. "No, I haven’t been chasin’ him,” she said before he could ask the question. “I *am* capable of ignorin’ me lupine instincts, ye know.”
“*There* you are!” Kurt was looking ticked off. He had Mr Peeper under one arm and McNugget under the other. “Your chicken has been molesting mine again.”
“Molesting?” Evan quoted. “What do you expect *me* to do about it?”
“You’re the one with the gay chicken,” said Kurt, handing the bird back.
“He is *not* gay!”
“Oh? So *then* what? Mr Peeper is a *Ms* Peeper?” Kurt stopped himself in realisation. “Mein Gott, she *is*.” Then, after further thought, "Stop trying to get my chicken pregnant, Evan!“
”*Me*? It’s McNugget that’s *doing* it…“
"Never heard about 'parental responsibility’?”
“So put your chicken on the pill!”
“Chickens don’t *have* the pill!”
“So lock her up!”
“Lock yours up first!”
“*Guys*,” said Rahne. “Stop bein’ bloody daft.”
“But,” said Kurt, “Ms Peeper’s far too young to be having kinder. And so’s McNugget.”
“Hey, she’s *your* jailbait chicken,” said Evan.
“*Jail*bait?”
“She’s tempting my Nuggie with her feminine wiles.”
“Ja? How? By hiding under the furniture?”
Rahne went werewolf and growled at them, thus scaring them out of the room. She sighed as she reverted to her human shape. The things she had to do for a peaceful, quiet read.
*
“A brand new fold on the Hess case, an entire *village* has begun a roving *circus* in order to gain funds to travel to america to support one of the survivors. Our reporter on the scene, Kevin Rainer, is reporting live by satellite. Kevin?”
Kevin had one hand to his ear and a German accent. “The entire village of Heirelgart has pulled together, here to come and support one of the survivors from that town. Here, we see some species that have not come out of the Black Forest for well over half a century.”
The camera focussed on a mixed group of centaurs. One was apparently part Clydesdale and was almost the same colour as gold. They carried on with their day-to-day circus business as if hoping the Media would leave them alone. The assembled camera crews had already learned to keep their distance.
Andrei, Centaur, flicked on for a prerecorded interview. “Kurt is not only my tribesman, but my also my oldest friend. The instant we heard about this mess, we started planning to go in his aid.”
“You did not think about how others would react to you?”
“Why should I?” said Andrei. “Centaurs have been here longer than humans. We should have come out of the wood years ago.”
“Kevin,” said the newscaster, “are there any elves in there?”
“Haha,” said Kevin, somewhat dutifully. “No. Just centaurs and people, all claiming to belong to the same tribe.”
*
Mason pinched his nose and tried to get his client’s attention. “Bruna. Bruna. Bruna.” At last, he broke through her babbling. “Bruna… The insanity plea is not going to work. Not any more. It doesn’t *matter* how insane you pretend to be. The jury *knows* you deliberately and repeatedly abused children. There’s no good defense against that.”
“But you have to *move* me,” Hess repeated. “Mein children are finding me. They’re haunting me. Even the ones who are still alive. My son keeps coming back to me, still in his jar. Mein kleine kind. He hates me. He hates me…”
“It’s not going to work, Bruna. The videotape evidence from your daughter is too strong. The only thing that could screw you more thoroughly is the testimony of her father.”
Hess slowed, then smiled. “Ahhh, yes. I have something for him. He will not be the same when I give it to him.”
“Like the tile, Bruna?” Mason shook his head. “The jury is *not* liking you pulling stunts like that. It just isn’t working.”
“This will work, mein fruend. This will shatter him into a million pieces.”
“It’d better. One more grandstanding stunt and you’re down so deep they’ll find *Hoffa* before they find you.”
*
Kitty held her hand on the edge of the envelope. Kurt held his in a similar way.
“On three?”
“On three.”
They counted, and tore the envelopes at the same time. Mutual pieces of paper were unfolded. Mutual sighs escaped their lips.
“Clean,” Kitty breathed.
“Clean,” Kurt sighed. “Wunderbar.”
They embraced. The predators hadn’t scarred them *that* way. It was such a relief to know that. At least one part of their lives would be forever untainted.
*
Bluebelle couldn’t hide her laughter with any of her hands, they were both busy helping her run. She was fast becoming a fan of jeans and slacks, as they let her move with more freedom. And, since she’d started eating properly and growing a lot, she was thinking of even giving her first dress to the Chagnys. It hardly fit any more.
But she wasn’t thinking anything like that, right now. She was running and having fun.
Bluebelle bounced off a wall, ricochetted off of Logan’s head, and continued barelling down the hallway at top speed, laughing all the way. Logan was then caught up in the stampede of mutants that were chasing her.
“*ELF*!” He roared.
Bluebelle laid on a little more speed, laughing all the way.
*
Lance sighed, feeling clean. He’d done what he’d come to do. He was still in the interview room, but he felt so much better. The nightmares wouldn’t be coming back, he was sure.
“You realise I’m going to have to arrest you for being an accessory to a kidnapping,” said the officer.
“Sure,” said Lance. “No big deal. I’ve been in jail before.” He was going to be as sweet as sugar during his time in the joint. A model prisoner. No waves. None at all.
He didn’t really listen to the court-appointed attorney. He just kind of switched off and let everything happen as it would. There was the possibility of a plea bargain, the adding of evidence to the now world-famous Hess Trial, and so forth could all get his sentence down. Lance could personally care less.
*
“Prosecution calls Kurt Wagner to the stand,” said Murdock, Prosecution.
Kurt, Witness, strode forward under the watch of a bailiff. A couple more bailiffs could be seen gathering on the sidelines. Everyone remembered the reaction he’d had to Hess’ fake concentration camp number stunt.
“Mein Damon,” Hess said, keeping her voice pleasant, “Lassen Sie die Gefangenen und die Speicher frei sein.”
Kurt, Witness, spasmed. His head threw back and a single cry of pain escaped his throat before he fell like a rag doll, twitching and thrashing violently once he was on the floor.
Hess just sat in her place and smiled like a snake.