vengeance2

Title: The Letter (1/1)

Series: Associated with “Vengeance is Mine, Sayeth the Clone”

Author: Me

Rating: PG

Summary: Payback is a bitch.

Notes: Third person for a change, cuz we’re getting rusty.

* * * * * * * * *

He snuck through the house in the post-midnight hours. Not because he had any nefarious deeds in mind, or plans or schemes. It was more that he was doing his damnedest to actually manage a surprise. And without blowing it and ruining it beforehand, too.

It wasn’t easy, but he thought he could do it. Hell, he’d managed to slip in and out of the clone’s so-called workshop without the guy knowing, hadn’t he? He was actually proud of that, even though he felt a tiny bit guilty. Cloney was one of his Mates and the workshop was his personal space, but… how else was he supposed to find out what to ask Santa to bring for the bloke?

So he’d had good reason, and… it wasn’t like he’d done anything but prowl around and look at things for a few minutes, anyway. Not really that big of a thing to feel guilty for.

Still, that had nothing to do with why he was creeping around in the dark right then.

He’d been trying to think of something nice to do for his Petal and for Obie, especially because they were letting him come away with them for a little while, at least. He’d sent out some—for him—subtle inquiries. Now he was just checking to see whether any of the e-mails he’d sent had borne fruit.

It didn’t take long to slip into the computer room. Why would it? It was just down the hall from the living room, after all.

He pulled up his usual chair and reached behind the monitor, finding the USB cable he kept hidden there. It was a matter of mere moments before he’d plugged himself in and pulled the computer out of hibernate mode, his eyes flicking from place to place on the monitor, the electrical and binary impulses in his brain acting much as a mouse would.

A huge grin split his face as he logged into his e-mail account and saw that not only were there several messages from friends and family, but one from an account he didn’t know.

“Mus’ be one ‘f th’ places I’s check’n’ wit’,” he muttered, running his own internal virus scan on it, then quickly opening it.

*~*~*~*

<From: Th’ REAL Fiji @ hotmail.com>

<To: bot_ boy_ Sully @ hotmail.com>

<Saturday, November 13, 2004 11:58 PM>

<Dear Sir,

Thanks for asking about activities on th’ tropical island of Fiji.

As with any pleasure sopt, there are many amazing and wonderful things about it, and a few things ya might want to watch out fer.

Click the link below for more information on the glory that is this tropical paridise.

We hope ya’ll enjoy yer stay and enjoy the pleasures of th’ island.

Sincerely,

Mr. W. Burke

Director,

The Real Fiji

http://themenagerie.0catch.com/the_motherland1.htm >

~*~*~*~

He would surprise Petal and Obie with a day and night planned purely by himself. Show them that he could arrange something fun without having it blow up in his face and theirs. It would be amazing just to see the looks on their faces.

His smile was fixed on his face, even as he opened the link.

It was still there, although less happy and more terrified, as the first of the images poured into his head, freezing him in place with horror as his unintentional twitches opened page after page.

It was the fourth or fifth page that had his whimpers coming in one joined, fearful keen, and one final twitch unbalanced him, dislodging the cable from the base of his skull as he fell to the floor.

He sobbed and shivered there for what seemed like hours, unable to move as the images lodged in his skull tormented him wickedly, but finally… finally, he forced himself to open his eyes, comforted by the familiar sight of the room around him.

He took in great, shuddering gasps of air, the unnecessary action calming him a bit further.

“I… I’s nev’r go’n’ ther’… nev’r…” he muttered to himself, even as he somehow got to his feet.

He meant it, too. There was no way in Hell or out of it that he’d ever go to a place with so many of the evil beasts… not even for his Petal.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell her that.

His shuddering had almost stopped by the time he got back to the bedroom and slipped under the covers, pulling her close.

He’d tell her soon, he told himself, closing his eyes and trying to sleep, hoping the pictures wouldn’t give him nightmares, but fairly sure they would.

~TBC… sort of.

	* Home_the Menagerie * Home_The House of Blue * Photo Album* We've Been Blessed * Ohana* Links * Title: The Letter (1/1) Series: Associated with “Vengeance is Mine, Sayeth the Clone” Author: Me Rating: PG Summary: Payback is a bitch. Notes: Third person for a change, cuz we’re getting rusty. * * * * * * * * * He snuck through the house in the post-midnight hours. Not because he had any nefarious deeds in mind, or plans or schemes. It was more that he was doing his damnedest to actually manage a surprise. And without blowing it and ruining it beforehand, too. It wasn’t easy, but he thought he could do it. Hell, he’d managed to slip in and out of the clone’s so-called workshop without the guy knowing, hadn’t he? He was actually proud of that, even though he felt a tiny bit guilty. Cloney was one of his Mates and the workshop was his personal space, but… how else was he supposed to find out what to ask Santa to bring for the bloke? So he’d had good reason, and… it wasn’t like he’d done anything but prowl around and look at things for a few minutes, anyway. Not really that big of a thing to feel guilty for. Still, that had nothing to do with why he was creeping around in the dark right then. He’d been trying to think of something nice to do for his Petal and for Obie, especially because they were letting him come away with them for a little while, at least. He’d sent out some—for him—subtle inquiries. Now he was just checking to see whether any of the e-mails he’d sent had borne fruit. It didn’t take long to slip into the computer room. Why would it? It was just down the hall from the living room, after all. He pulled up his usual chair and reached behind the monitor, finding the USB cable he kept hidden there. It was a matter of mere moments before he’d plugged himself in and pulled the computer out of hibernate mode, his eyes flicking from place to place on the monitor, the electrical and binary impulses in his brain acting much as a mouse would. A huge grin split his face as he logged into his e-mail account and saw that not only were there several messages from friends and family, but one from an account he didn’t know. “Mus’ be one ‘f th’ places I’s check’n’ wit’,” he muttered, running his own internal virus scan on it, then quickly opening it. ~~~ <From: Th’ REAL Fiji @ hotmail.com> <To: bot_ boy_ Sully @ hotmail.com> <Saturday, November 13, 2004 11:58 PM> <Dear Sir, Thanks for asking about activities on th’ tropical island of Fiji. As with any pleasure sopt, there are many amazing and wonderful things about it, and a few things ya might want to watch out fer. Click the link below for more information on the glory that is this tropical paridise. We hope ya’ll enjoy yer stay and enjoy the pleasures of th’ island. Sincerely, Mr. W. Burke Director, The Real Fiji http://themenagerie.0catch.com/the_motherland1.htm > ~~~*~ He would surprise Petal and Obie with a day and night planned purely by himself. Show them that he could arrange something fun without having it blow up in his face and theirs. It would be amazing just to see the looks on their faces. His smile was fixed on his face, even as he opened the link. It was still there, although less happy and more terrified, as the first of the images poured into his head, freezing him in place with horror as his unintentional twitches opened page after page. It was the fourth or fifth page that had his whimpers coming in one joined, fearful keen, and one final twitch unbalanced him, dislodging the cable from the base of his skull as he fell to the floor. He sobbed and shivered there for what seemed like hours, unable to move as the images lodged in his skull tormented him wickedly, but finally… finally, he forced himself to open his eyes, comforted by the familiar sight of the room around him. He took in great, shuddering gasps of air, the unnecessary action calming him a bit further. “I… I’s nev’r go’n’ ther’… nev’r…” he muttered to himself, even as he somehow got to his feet. He meant it, too. There was no way in Hell or out of it that he’d ever go to a place with so many of the evil beasts… not even for his Petal. Now he just had to figure out how to tell her that. His shuddering had almost stopped by the time he got back to the bedroom and slipped under the covers, pulling her close. He’d tell her soon, he told himself, closing his eyes and trying to sleep, hoping the pictures wouldn’t give him nightmares, but fairly sure they would. ~TBC… sort of.