“So, didja hear about the plant kid?”

“Who?”

It was a popular conversation topic among those in Kaitlyn’s age group. The story echoed in the dining room, the locker room, the living room, hallways, in hushed tones, when Mansion staff wasn’t around to overhear.

“The plant kid. He’s a mutant who’s part plant, and he can’t ever leave his pot in the greenhouse or he’ll die. The new gardener’s the only one who’s allowed to see him, and he eats anyone else who goes in there.”

The kids didn’t always agree about the details.

“I heard it was a girl.”

“The gardener’s actually the plant kid’s mom, and she doesn’t want anyone to know how bad she treats her kid.”

“I thought they were sisters.”

“Nuh-uh. The Mansion just hired her to take care of him.”

“She can actually leave her pot, but she likes plants a lot and she’s scared of people.”

As much as the details shifted from telling to telling, all of the stories agreed on several key points. The plant kid always stayed in the greenhouse, the plant kid either hid from everyone or was indistinguishable from a normal plant, and nobody who met the plant kid was ever heard from again, because either the plant kid or the gardener was keeping a dark, terrible secret.

Kaitlyn could only endure so many stories about the infamous “plant kid” before she decided to find out for herself. One quiet Sunday evening, when most people thought it was too cold to go outside, Kaitlyn put on her jacket and headed for the greenhouse, shivering, constantly checking to see if anyone was watching her. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked.

Her head swiveled around, one last time, to see if anyone was watching. The coast was clear. Little gloved hands fumbled through her pocket for the lockpicking tool Lisa gave her. Little gloved hands were too clumsy to pick locks. She could only do it without the gloves. Her fingers were numb in seconds.

click

Success! Kaitlyn couldn’t open the door fast enough. The warmth of the greenhouse was just what she needed. She was quick to close the door behind her, to keep all the warm air from leaving.

Now… to find this ‘plant kid.’

“Hello?” she advanced into the greenhouse slowly, cautiously, constantly watching for any sign of movement.

“I knew I forgot something!” Regan grumbled to herself as she headed back out to the greenhouse. She had forgotten her book on the greenhouse’s work bench, and seeing as how she wanted to curl up and read before going to bed, she needed to go back out and get it.

Tucking her dark blue jeans into her black combat boots so she could tie them up, Regan let out a sigh, it was cold out tonight, she’d as least need a sweater. She grabbed her black hoodie out of the closet and put it on over her dark green tank top and zipped it up. She grabbed the greenhouse keys off her dresser and headed out down the hallway to the front doors.

The cold air ruffled Regan’s fur and she gave a slight shiver as she shut the doors behind her. She stuffed her furry hands into her hoodie’s pockets and headed to the greenhouse. When she arrived she put the key in the door but it was already unlocked. “That’s odd, I’m sure I locked this before I left.” With that, Regan opened the door and walked inside the greenhouse.

Kaitlyn left no stone un-turned, no leaf uninvestigated. None of the plants responded when she asked if they were actually people, and none of them seemed to respond to her poking, no matter how vigorous. Threatening the plants (“I know you’re here; if you don’t show yourself I’ll use my powers to blow up the whole greenhouse!”) proved equally ineffective. She briefly considered insulting the plants until one of them retorted, but she discarded the idea because it was freakin’ stupid and she was already making a fool of herself.

Maybe this whole ‘plant kid’ thing was fake, and she was the only person in the greenhouse.

But she wouldn’t be for long. She heard the jangle of keys at the doorway, some muttering that sounded a lot like the new gardener. Thinking quickly, she hid behind a large, leafy plant next to the workbench, injuring some formerly beautiful flowers in the process.

Regan’s enhanced hearing heard some shuffling in the greenhouse as she opened the door. She sniffed the air and picked up on an unfamiliar scent. There was someone in here.

Regan could see clearly in the dark so she decided to leave the lights off, since it would give her the upper edge. Her feline eyes scanned the greenhouse quickly, but there were a lot of places for people to hide now that she had taken over the job as the gardener. The plants had flourished and become quite green with foliage, a little person could go undetected by most mutants, but Regan was an animal and she had the extra senses on her side.

Regan carefully walked over to the work bench, despite wearing combat boots, her feet barely made a sound as they hit the wooden floor. As she got to the bench to get her book, and figure out who was hiding in her greenhouse, Regan noticed that some of the calla lilies that she had just spent days on repotting had been crushed. She let out a low growl and started sniffing the air to pick up that scent once again. It was close and she was going to find the culprit even if she had to stay up all night.

Kaitlyn. Stayed. Perfectly. Still.

She barely even wanted to risk breathing. Her chest expanded and contracted with slow, shallow breaths. Her eyes followed the silhouette of the cat-woman as she walked right past her (how is it even possible to walk that quietly?) stopping in front of the workbench, several arms’ lengths away. It took all her self control to stop herself from breathing in too loudly, or from blowing a hole in the building.

Sniff. Growl. Crap, she knows I’m here!

She had to stay calm, had to be cool. The gardener could probably only smell her. Maybe if she stayed really still, the gardener wouldn’t notice her. Or, at least give her a chance to escape unnoticed.

Breathing, Regan could hear breathing, but now to pin point where it was coming from. Scanning over the area around the crushed calla lilies, she just made out what looked like part of a jacket. There was the culprit, now to catch them!

With a few swift and silent steps, Regan reached behind the calla lilies and grabbed onto the jacket. With a quick movement she hoisted the culprit up into the air, knocking over a few of the calla lilies and busting the pots. She would clean that up later, or better yet make this little person do it as punishment.

Lifting the little person so they were face to face, Regan growled again. “What are you doing in here? The greenhouse if off limits without an adult!” Regan was quite furious at this point; she was growling and bearing her fangs at the child. Regan always went out of her way to be nice to everyone, especially children, but this little heathen had come into her greenhouse and destroyed some of her plants. She wasn’t going to hurt her, but she was going to make the point very clear that this area of the mansion was not a playground.

The gardener reached out to grab Kaitlyn so quickly and quietly that she barely realized it was happening until it was too late. Her squirming, her last-minute jerk to the side to try getting away, all futile. Now the gardener was lifting her, her feet kicking uselessly in the air, angry tiger-face growling inches away from her face. It was almost too dark to see, but Kaitlyn could make out some deadly-looking fangs.

Thanks for the reminder about the rules, ma’am, but I think I’ll just…

Hands came up, as if Kaitlyn was flinching.

THWOOM[/b]

Directed shockwave-blast to the chest. Angry tiger-face went airborne. Kaitlyn fell to the ground. She felt a sharp pain in her lower back, cried out.

Warm. Wet. She was bleeding. There was a piece of pottery sticking out of her back. But she could take care of that later; now, she needed to leave. She struggled to her feet, limped towards the door as fast as she could.

So focused on trying to get her point across to the child, Regan didn’t see the hands rising up to her chest. Before she could even process what was going on, Regan was flying through the air. She roared loudly as she slammed into the metal crossbeam of the greenhouse’s wall, shattering the glass on either side before landing on the floor with a thud. Well she was not expecting that!

Groaning softly on the ground, Regan slowly raised herself up on her clawed hands and shook her head to get her scenes back in order. The smell of blood filled the air, this was not good! The blood mixed with the pain and furry she was feeling, there was no hope of holding back the sabre tooth now.

Without any chance to even think, Regan’s spine started to snap and pop as it realigned itself for her feral state. Her muscles bulked up under her fur and she increased in size slightly. An anguished roar cried out as the massive sabre tooth fangs extended from her skull to slide down past her lower jaw by several inches. Her feline eyes locked onto the child as she was trying to limp out of the door. She swiped her clawed hand on the floor of the greenhouse, tossing broken glass and pottery through the air. A deep, guttural growl escaped her lips and she slowly stepped forward towards the door.

Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder exactly long enough to see that there was a growling, four-legged creature in the greenhouse with her. Could the gardener transform herself? Was this the fabled ‘plant kid?’ Did Kaitlyn want to get her face chewed off?

The only question she could answer with any certainty was the last one, which called for a resounding no. She was running, now, in spite of the pain. Now, she was past the entrance to the greenhouse, slamming the door behind her, weighing her options, thinking fast. Going to the Mansion was stupid; people would notice, gardener would get a good luck at her face in the light. Maybe she could put some distance between them in the hedge maze?

Worth a try, if that saber-toothed tiger didn’t run her down on the way there. Which it would probably be able to pull off just as easily if Kaitlyn didn’t have part of a pot sticking out of her back.

Stepping over the broken pottery and glass that was still scattered on the floor, Regan watched the small form look over her shoulder and quickly slam the door behind her. Regan snorted and shook her head, her prey was escaping. Without a second thought the large saber toothed mutant careened towards the door and slammed into it, knocking it right off it’s hinges and sending it flying into the front yard of the mansion grounds. Tumbling out of the door, Regan regained her footing. She sniffed the air and looked for her prey. She picked up the scent of the blood dripping from her wound and looked in that direction. Her feline vision was impeccable in the dark and she spotted the tiny form trying to run towards the hedge maze.

Stepping into the cold snow, Regan flexed her claws to ensure a good grip. Unfortunately her combat boots were still on her feet so she had less control of her back end. Deciding the time was right, Regan bolted across the field towards her tiny target. Her long tail whipped around behind, keeping her balance her as she ran at blinding speeds. It wasn’t long before Regan was right behind the small child, and with a swipe of her clawed hand under the child’s feet, she tripped her up and watched her roll in the snow.

Skidding to a stop just a few feet away, Regan’s eyes darted as she watched the child roll and assessed when was the right time to pounce. As the child came to her last few rolls in front of Regan, she pounced and pinned the child down with one of her clawed hands across her chest.

Kaitlyn heard the door fly off its hinges, and kept running, not wasting any time looking back.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Something furry caught her leg. She fell. She rolled. She came to a stop when a green-striped, saber-toothed, monstrous-looking mutant pinned her to the ground, driving the shard of pottery a bit further into her back. She yelped, trying vainly to lift the lower part of her back off the ground.

pomf

A pitifully small shockwave shot from her small form, barely strong enough to blow back the other mutant’s fur. It didn’t look very happy with her. Scrunching her eyes shut, she tried again.

THWOMP!

It flew off Kait, landing a few yards off to the side.

As she scrambled to her feet, she noticed that the mutant was wearing boots. It was a saber-toothed cat-mutant with boots. Didn’t the gardener have pair of boots on, too? She tried to keep running, but she was slow, even slower than before. She felt weak, cold, foggy, tired. She was bleeding more.

Regan brought her face closer to the child’s and growled. She felt a slight wave run over her fur and tilted her head to the side curiously. The child crunched her face up tightly and as Regan leaned in to sniff her she was blown back into the air. She twisted her body in the air and with the help of her tail she managed to land on her hands and feet. She was slightly disoriented and it took her a few minutes to regain her bearings. The scent of her prey’s blood filled her pink feline nose and her attention snapped back into the direction of her prey. She must have done some damage as the little form was slowing down, an excellent time to play with it.

She waited and let her prey get closer to the maze. She could easily track her by the smell of her blood dripping from her wound. She walked towards her, still on all fours, and let out a low growl before a booming roar. She wanted her prey to know she was coming.

Restoring her energy from the last mad dash across the field, Regan decided to just slowly jog after her. There was no way that the little child was going to be able to hide from her, or out run her, even at a slower pace, so there was no use in exerting herself by using up her sprinting energy. So she just caught up to her prey and jogged at a mild pace behind her, letting her have a small amount of hope… for now anyways.

The sabre-tooth-mutant (the gardener? The plant kid?) did not sound happy. Kaitlyn didn’t think she could run away from it much longer, either. At least it gave her a head start into the maze.

After running (jogging, limping) around a few corners, Kaitlyn thought it would be safe to take that chunk of pottery out of her back. She wrapped her hand around it and started to tug on it. For about a fraction of a second, before she realized how terrible that felt. But she still needed it to come out.

An idea came to her: maybe if she pulled it out faster, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Like tearing off a band-aid. Wrapping her hand around it more tightly, she clenched her teeth, then pulled as hard as she could.

Muffled cry.

She looked at the shard in her hand. That must have been sticking a lot further into her than she’d thought. There was a lot of blood on it. That couldn’t be healthy. There were a few gashes on her hand, already knitting themselves closed, but the wound in her back would take a little longer. She threw the bloody piece of pottery on the bloody snow-covered ground.

Kaitlyn’s knees were so weak, she could only take another two steps before finally falling over, face-first into the snow.

The saber tooth was enjoying the little game she was playing with her mouse. Her emerald eyes watched her mouse enter the maze and vanish in the hedges, but that was fine, she follow the scent of her blood and catch her when the time was right, once this game was no longer any fun of course.

Coming to the entrance of the maze, Regan sniffed at the droplets of blood in the snow. Licking the bloody snow off her pink nose, she looked up and slowly crept around the first corner. Her feline ears flicked forward as she heard a muffled cry. The mouse wasn’t far away. Another few steps and she heard a thump. The mouse was down.

Slowly she crept around the last corner where she found a pool of blood and a shard of pottery. She sniffed at it. It was part of her mouse. Looking a few feet ahead she spotted the tiny form laying in the snow face down. Cautiously creeping forward, Regan brought her nose to the bloodied side of the tiny body and sniffed it. It was her mouse. The chase was over.

With a quick swipe of her clawed hand Regan rolled the tiny body over so it was face up. Climbing over it, she brought her face down to her mouse’s, the warm breath from her nose melted the snow that clung to the tiny face as she sniffed her a few more times. Once the face was defrosted, she backed up frantically and roared. This was a child!

With another pained roar, Regan’s clawed hands clasped her face. Her body started to pop and crack as it reshaped itself, shrinking her down back to her normal size. Her saber fangs retracted and she finally had her wits about her once again. Uncovering her eyes to look at the grizzly scene, she gasped. “Oh Lord! What have I done!”

Without another thought, she grabbed the shard of pottery and scooped up the child in her arms. She held her close to her own body for warmth and started running as fast as she could back to the mansion. She needed to get her inside the warm mansion and stop the bleeding as fast as she could until they could get her to a hospital. She held one of her clawed hands tightly on the bloody patch of the child’s coat to try and stop the bleeding.

Lori was there.

On the other side, that is. She was just sitting there, calm smile on her face. Everything else was fuzzy, warm, bright, cloudy. There was such an overwhelming sense of joy and sadness in it all that Kaitlyn wondered how she could stop herself from breaking down and crying on the spot. She saw Lori open her mouth, start to say something.

“This is stupid!” the girl shouted. Lori took a step back, and the entire fuzzy, bright dream world they were in seemed to shrink back with her. The redhead started to feel weak again, barely able to stand. Everything became dark, cold, sharp. For a moment, she felt like she was falling.

Dream world. The whole thing was a dream. A near-death experience, which, as far as Kaitlyn could tell, was just a kind of glorified dream. She already knew that she was still alive, and that she would come back. Sebastian’s blood transfusion meant she couldn’t die this easily. This wasn’t even her first near-death experience.

She landed in the gardener’s arms. Or, at least, she felt like she’d just landed in them. It took her a moment to get her bearings. She was in the real world again, it was winter, and her coat was warm and we More likely, Kaitlyn was jolting awake in the gardener’s arms after the she had carried her halfway to the mansion. Her strength was already coming back; for now, she barely had enough of it to squirm and kick ineffectually in the gardener’s grasp.

“Put me down!” she demanded weakly. Using her free hand, she tried to push herself away from the lady carrying her, but with the amount of strength she had at her disposal, the gardener might not have been able to realize what Kaitlyn was trying to do.

While Kaitlyn’s coat was still dripping with blood, the wound in her back had already sealed.