He had a perfectly good reason as to why he was a little late.

He was blind, was operating almost completely on a sense that had just gotten him slightly below par in the 'finding my way around' department, and on the way... he'd found a toy.

His sense caught onto something sharp as he snuck through a room... It turned out to be a paper cutter... He hadn't been able to find his hammer, so... Well... It would do for now, right? He silently removed it, and had to admit just holding the blade made him feel brutal, even if it wasn't really mean to cut people... Besides, he recalled seeing them being rather effective in a movie or two, and the shock value could be invaluable...

As he entered approached the room to sense two women on the ground, and something that he swore resembled a set of legs flying through the air... wait... pants... yeah, he came to the conclusion that he probably needed to hurry. The first girl, still cowering, watched as the door behind the men slowly opened, and revealed a dark figure with a horrifying blade in his hand. All she could do was stare in shock as the figure, a harbinger of death, approached the three men.

One of the men, the one in the middle, spoke up in a sinister tone. "Ohh... you're both pretty, huh? I gotta let you know... I'm not gonna be gentle."

The third man in the line laughed and shook his head, looking to his friend. "Heh... you're really sick, man... Lemme go fir-" His speech froze at the dark figure reached it's destination, and he caught the swing out of the corner of his eye...

The blade was thick; it's wielder was strong... even so, it only went cleanly through the neck of the first man, and stuck itself into the man in the middle... That was unexpected, and it left the judge helpless to the third man, his mouth still open from speaking...

Fortunately, the shock factor had taken hold even better than he'd thought... The man's mouth flapped uselessly for a second as he tried to decipher was had just happened in front of him... It took him a full second to gather the presence of mind to grab his gun and fumble with it to level it at the Judge.

It would have been enough time to dispatch him easily... but he realized a little too late that his blade was just a little bit stuck...

Crap. He braced himself for the coming shot.

Damn... Damn... Damn!

Megan stopped beside the other woman, wondering just how long she could hold the men off with her knife if it came down to it. Considering her rusted experience with the blade, and the fact that she was semi paralyzed with fear, her mind decided for her that it wouldn't be long enough for either of them to walk away unscathed.

"Ohh... you're both pretty, huh? I gotta let you know... I'm not gonna be gentle."

A shudder ran through her, and she clenched her teeth. There had to be some way of distracting them.. something she could do to capture their attention long enough for her companion to come through and literally save the day. As she sat, one of her hands inching slowly behind her, she found that she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't make the situation worse. As much as she hated it, perhaps attempting to play along would buy her, no... them, some time.

Thankfully, it never came to that. She was facing the doorway as it started to slowly open. She didn't notice it at first, so caught up with the fact that one of the guys was advancing on her, but after a moment she noticed the dark shape standing within the door frame.

Oh.. thank god he's here... She pulled her eyes back to the man closest to her, shaking her head gently to keep up the act, even as relief flooded into her. Everything would be alright... because he was here now. Then, in an instant, one man was on the floor and another was quickly on his way to join him. Megan was too busy recoiling from the spray of hot blood that washed over herself and the woman next to her. She managed to keep from shrieking, but the other woman didn't.

When Megan looked back up, she noticed that the last raider was still standing, and that his gun was swiftly being leveled at her companion. She rolled onto her knees, reaching back to yank her knife free from her belt, and was on her feet in an instant. The blade sank all the way to the hilt, straight through the man's back and into one of his lungs, as she barreled into him from behind. He toppled with a strangled gasp and Megan landed on top of him. She mustered just enough strength to yank her knife free again, before she drove it back into the guy's neck.

She missed the spine by an inch, hitting muscle and skin instead, but effectively sliced clean through a rather important artery. The sounds of his gurgling were drowned out by the other woman's frantic wailing. The twenty five year old gave a moment's pause to reflect on what she'd just done, before she shook herself and glanced up at the Judge.

"They'll think nothing of her screaming... nothing that wasn't already going to happen, anyway."

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that his associate had been competent enough to step in and give him a hand... Actually, he would take that thought back... She'd seemed rather soft at the camp, but some of that grit from an earlier life seemed to be returning... It was a shame, but that whole camp of people had been fooling themselves in thinking they could allow themselves to be soft...

Still, there was the possibility that she was just angry... She knew the kid that died, and he imagined what these men were trying to do to the her and the other girl enraged her just as much as it did him... that reminded him. His eyes shifted to the girl, who clutched a torn shirt to her chest with one hand while squealing and presumably trying to wipe something from her face... Oh yeah... he had felt some droplets fly their way... perfectly round...

She paused in her screaming for a moment, her face pointed his way... Had she noticed him looking. Her head slowly shook and she started scrambling further away, screaming once again.

She was afraid of him... Fair enough.

"They'll think nothing of her screaming... nothing that wasn't already going to happen, anyway." Such a heartless statement... True, though... Atta girl.

"Next room... And then the two with the rifles... We have to move quickly." He paused to wipe his new blade off on one of the fallen bodies, and started walking.

A few rooms over, a man chuckled, putting a beer to his lips. "Aww man... They're gettin busy with her alright... Think we'll get a turn next?"

Another one, cleaning his gun, looked up for a moment, and back down to the disassembled weapon before him. "Begging for scraps... What a punk... You should think about cleaning your weapon, and practicing your aim. Not useless s#%# like that."

The first one sighed, and leaned forward in his hair, which he'd been tipping backward. "Clive, why you always gotta bust my balls, huh? I killed at least... what... five people in that last raid?"

"Four... shooting people lying in hospital beds doesn't count... And I "bust your balls" Because you're a stupid little prick... Ain't worth the bullets you shoot, and sure as s**t ain't worth the one someone will put into you sooner or later to shut your mouth for good. Now... Go check on the hostages... And find Collin... I sent the little bastard out to get the beers... still isn't back yet..."

The man rubbed his forehead for a moment and stood slowly. "You're a real D@$@head... Always actin like you're in charge cause you and the boss are tight... Better watch yourself... I'll get tired of it one of these days." He turned away from Clive, and walked out the room, pausing as the older man spoke.

"You can try one of these days, or right now, but i'll always be smarter, quicker, and just simply better than you... F%*kin punk..." He muttered the last part, and slowly started assembling the rifle in front of him.

After exiting the room ,the younger man started talking loudly to himself. "Punk? Me? That son of a b*#%@... I'll show him... Next raid ima fill him so fulla... Whose th-"WHIP-crack....

The man tried to turn, towards the sound he heard nearing him, but he was too slow, too buzzed... All it took was a grab of the back of the hair with one hand and a poke to the neck, with a good bit of gathered force into it, and death was instant and not exactly pretty...

The Judge looked back to Megan, and then to the door the young man had walked out of... "I'll take care of that... you find the hostages..." He let go of the hair still grasped in his hand, and let the dead body fall to the ground.

She nodded and stood, shaking slightly. It had been a while since she'd been covered in this much blood. The many times she'd gotten dragged into the Assassin's troubles, or dragged him into her own... and then that time with Allison, when she'd-... ugh. Better to not think about that. She'd been a different person back then. So full of anger at the world that throwing a punch had felt exhilarating. It had been her addiction for a while, the adrenaline that came with a good fight... even when she had gotten her ass kicked.

She'd never looked back and reflected on how lucky she was to still be alive. There had been so many moments where if she'd been alone, all by herself, she'd have never seen the light of day again. But, back then, she hadn't really cared. The world had been an awful place in her eyes, saturated in greedy and corruption.

... How wrong she'd been.

Compared to now, where criminals were the power, that life had been a blessing. Megan suppressed another shudder, and followed after the Judge. The woman had hushed herself into a quiet moaning, and as she passed, the twenty eight year old dropped a little warning her way. "Just stay in here, okay? Don't go outside, or open the door for anything. I'll come back for you when it's safe." She didn't stick around to see if her words registered, or if the woman nodded.

She followed him out, staying out of sight as he took care of another man exiting the next room, until it was all clear. As the body dropped, she stopped beside him, twiddling her weapon nervously. "I'll take care of that... you find the hostages..."

"Right, on it." She parted ways, her confidence in her own skills only slightly better than it had been before. She'd gotten one distracted guy in the back, but that really wasn't something to celebrate. As she looped around the center of the dilapidated office building, she found what she was looking for. The people from her camp were all huddled together in the middle of the large room. Three guards walked in lazy circles around them, one with a gun of some sort, the others with length blades. Blades that looked suspiciously like machete's. She could see a few open spaces as they wandered around, that if she timed it just right, she could slip through unnoticed.

But... as she crouched in the shadows and watched, another idea hatched. Somewhere behind that mass of bodies was a child. Squished up against the wall, forgotten. Anger bubbled to the surface of her emotions again, halted only by the fear of being caught, before it over took her. She'd nearly rushed out headlong into the thick of it last time, stopped only by her companion.

...her companion, who was now busy with his own foe. A tight smile captured her lips, the same she'd grown accustomed to wearing, and she waited for the moment to appear where she could slip into the group of people unnoticed by the guards. When it finally came, a break in the lazy formation, she quietly crawled over, and blended into the back of the group. No one seemed to want to pay her any attention, not even a curious or startled look. Everyone was lost in their own mental worlds, empty gazes staring blankly at the floor. Good, she thought, It's better this way...

She didn't make it all the way to the back, where the kid had been, before one of her spiders finally alerted her to the presence of the man who had killed him. Her chin whipped left, eyes straining in the semi darkness. He was off across the camp, somewhere behind the large bonfire. The only problem of getting over to him, was the five or so other raiders still scattered around the inside. She would never make it on foot... A man off to her left, one of the men with the blades, was about to pass by her. She quietly tucked her knife back into her pants, yanked her tank-top back down into place over the top of it, and reached out to snag his pant leg.

He reacted violently at first, nearly kicking her hand away, but once he laid eyes on her, he paused. She stared up at him, positioned perfectly so that he caught a flash of cleavage, and couldn't avoid a wide, blue eyed stare. "...I... I was told to.. to.." A hint of shame shaded her expression, while she chewed on her bottom lip in a sad, desperate manner. "I was told... to meet the man in charge. He wanted me to be taken to him..."

The raider regarded her quietly at first, torn between the urge to drag her off for himself, and paying attention to the words that tumbled from her lips. He could easily over power her, what with her twiggy arms and scrawny body.. but if the boss really had asked for her... then he'd get his nuts cut off for ruining the bosses fun. Of course, then there was the fact that she had a spattering of what looked like blood sprayed all over her front, including her pale face. With one eyebrow raised, he shook her hand off his leg, turned around to stomp across the camp and find out for himself.

Megan waited nervously, wondering if her ploy would work, before the man returned. There was a grin on his face that she didn't much like... but she choose to ignore it for the moment. "Yeah.. Boss wants to see ya, c'mon." He hauled her roughly to her feet, twisting an arm behind her back, and shoved her in front of him as he moved. She found herself silently praying that he wouldn't spot the knife in her belt, but her worries were unneeded. Before she knew it, she was carted around the camp fire, to a spot where three men stood. The one in the middle turned to face her as she was brought forward; the others barely batted an eyelash at her.

"So..." He started, taking a lengthy step toward her. His eyes roamed her up and down... but, she noted, it wasn't the same kind of look she'd seen the other men give her. He wasn't leering at her... he was studying her. "You're the idiot who wanted to see me?" He flat out laughed in her face, as her guide let go of her and turned to leave. "What can I say?... I saw you before... and wanted to talk with you. Is there maybe.. somewhere more private we could go?"

The gleam in his eyes shifted, and he grinned at her. "Yeah, sure... Boy's! Why don't you show our guest to the pent house?" Megan made the mistake of taking her eyes off of him, in order to glance over at one of the other men. The moment she turned her attention away, one of them lifted a rifle and popped her neatly in the temple. She crumpled before she even knew what was happening, and was promptly seized by the wrists. They dragged her with them as their boss turned and walked swiftly away, stopping by an old, dirt covered metal hatch on the floor. With a grunt, he lifted it open, and the two men dragged Megan inside with them. The 'Boss' turned to give his encampment one final searching look, before he too followed after, letting the heavy metal door slam shut after him.

If it were worth a damn, he would turn to watch her go as she wandered off down the hallway, but such a sentimental movement was a waste or time for more reason that one. He had other things to get to, and he couldn't even f#$%king see, for a a start. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the girl was gonna go and get herself into trouble.

Then again, he was pretty damned sure he was headed into something similar; without her guidance, he would have a hard time getting around.

No sense worrying about such things now, though; he had someone to kill.

The dark figure turned to the door down the hallway, and took his first step. The sound of a door opening down the hall behind him froze him in his tracks.

"-I dunno, I got a list of chicks lined up... Heh... get it? Lined up? Cause that's how we march em... heh... lined up... I'm a funny mother-"

"Shut yo mouth! Something ain't right here."

Great... the other two had opted to take a walk, and one of them wasn't an idiot? No time to give them time to think... A mental check of how much energy he had stored told him... just about enough. His hand grasped his new tool of death dealing and pulled it back, flinging it with all of his might, and energy.

"Oh shi-"CRACK! The sliver of metal smacked into the man's rib cage like a freight train, and sent him into his companion, who had already been pulling his rifle up, though... it was too late, though, as his dead friend fell on top of him, and he quickly rushed forward as fast as he could hobble to pound the downed man's face in as quickly as possible. The tense moment left his heart beating rapidly.

...

Meanwhile, Clive had finished assembling his gun, and was interrupted from the moment that he actually considered somewhat spiritual by a loud crack... He remained calm, sitting there for a moment, and then slowly pulled out a pack of cigarettes... four left. He popped one into his mouth, lit it, loaded a magazine, and pulled back the slide of his rifle... Locked and loaded.

A call came into the radio in front of him. "We have a guest, Clive... some stupid broad who prolly came to try and kill the boss... The other squads out there ain't reporting in."

He stared at the radio for a moment. "Clive... shit, she kill him too?"

A calm hand grasped the radio, and lifted it slowly. "She's not alone, you idiot... From now on, maintain radio silence. I'll be there shortly. And for god's sake, pull out some hostages. We may need some human shields."

He took a long drag, and then stood, very calmly strolling into the hallway, and spraying into it without aiming at anything in particular.

...

The Judge's heartbeat definitely sped up even more; he found himself diving off to the side and covering as a hail of bullets rushed his way... By the time they stopped, and he got up to kill the man who fired them... The hallway was empty.

A clever enemy? The man had just laid down cover fire to aid his escape... Normal raiders and punks weren't that smart; it bothered him...

It looked like they'd accounted for all of the people Megan had spotted around the perimeter... That meant heading into the inner area... Blind...

This would be a challenge... Where was that damned woman? He'd told her to locate the hostages, right?


. . .

Good news! The spoken of devil would awake unbound, completely unharmed other than the bump on her head. What a blessing, right?

Okay, Bad news... She would be dressed in frilly lingerie, and he definitely hadn't put it on herself. Unsettling, right?

More good news, though! There was more good news! She would be in a very, very comfy bed, and there was definitely mood lighting... Nice mood lighting. Candles and whatnot!

Well... Being honest, there was more bad news. There was a man sitting on a chair very near, decked out in raider garb, slowly taking off his army boots as he ashed and put out his cigarette.

"You're up... Good. I was just getting ready." The man took off his last boot, and stood slowly, showing off an impressive height, and impressive build, and a scary glint in the eye.

"Here's how this work... You fight... You fight as if your life depends on it... I slowly deprive you of hope and control... I dominate you... and then he real fun begins... How about we get started?"

Ugh... jesus, did her head hurt. Like someone had cracked her in the temple with--....

Oh... Yeah. Now she remembered.

Cracking an eye open hurt like hell too. Raising a hand to gently prod at the skin that was surely going to bruise stung like a @^%$*&... and... why was it suddenly drafty? It took one too many moments for her to realize that the usual feel of cloth on her legs, and upper half for that matter, was gone. Instead, she was stuck with an itchy, lace feeling digging into her in odd places, while the rest of her felt more or less uncovered.

Sitting up with a gasp only caused her to sway as a sudden dizziness set in. God... what had happened? Where was she? With blurred vision, she squinted around. There were candles... she was on a pristine looking bed... in a rather dark room, and she was too far from the outline of the door for her own comfort. As the realization set in that she'd been stripped of everything, her hand flashed back and found that she was also lacking her only weapon. Well... not her only weapon, but the one that really mattered.

"You're up... Good. I was just getting ready." Her head whipped around so fast that another wave of dizziness latched onto her. She hadn't looked off to that side of the room yet, still trying to collect her thoughts. She'd missed the other occupant completely. With another gasp, she practically flew off the bed. There wasn't enough room to get a comfortable distance away from him, and with a wall pressed into her back she was starting to feel rather trapped. Only the bed separated him from her as she shook herself and sized him up.

...she didn't like what she saw. He was huge... and from the looks of it, clearly readying himself for something. One of her arms rose on it's own at that thought, covering what little she could of herself from view.

"Here's how this work... You fight... You fight as if your life depends on it... I slowly deprive you of hope and control... I dominate you... and then the real fun begins... How about we get started?"

....

Jesus christ. How did she always manage to run into these freaks? Without even realizing it, she attempted to back up another step, and her breath hitched in her throat. "You can go @#%$ yourself with a &%#$ right in the $@%#*&^!" The words were out of her mouth in a flat second; her kindly response to his question.

***

Harry speared a rueful glare on his radio, swearing under his breath before he clipped it back onto his belt. Leave it to Clive to be the voice of reason when things got hairy. "Smug bastard..." Turning, he waved over one of his fellows. Once the man was in ear shot, he drew him a little ways away from the group of captured survivors and fingered his gun. "Grab yourself a hostage, mate. We've got unwanted company. Order's are for the lines to remain silent, and keep your eyes peeled, got it?"

"Who's orders?" Harry didn't much like the tone of his companion's question. He responded first with a swift slap upside the back of the kids head, and then, "Straight from Clive. Johnny's busy, so he's in command for now." This bit of information seemed to quiet the kid up real fast. One nod later, and they both turned and headed back to the waiting sheeple. Without a word, Harry leveled his gun, turning his sights slowly as those that noticed gasped and shrieked. "Everybody quiet the @&%# up! We need two volunteers, any takers?" With a grin etched onto his lips, the kid lurched forward and grabbed a middle aged woman by the arm, dragging her away from the group. Harry's gun kept anyone from trying to haul her back.

"Alright, one down, one to go! Who's next?" A man stood a moment later, hands in the air, and stepped forward. "Paul, no!" The woman, soon-to-be-meat-shield, cried out. She was silenced with a rough slap across the face by Harry's younger partner. The gun was motioned, signalling the male volunteer to move forward. Once both the victims were on their knees, the younger male set about tying their hands behind their backs with zip-ties. The two were them hauled up, and moved to stand just in front of both raiders.

"Alright... now we just wait and see."

The man ignored her response, chuckling just a little as he pointed at the wall behind her. It was a perfect chalk outline of her position... a little shorter, mind you, but the position was right. "They always do that first... I have to say, they don't all have the creative vocabulary you do... Usually they beg first, and then curse... I'm fine doing it the other way."

He paced toward her casually as he spoke, but just as he entered striking range he pounced into action, sending a palm to her forehead that would smack it into the wall behind her... there was already a dried blood mark there. Just a little one, mind you, he didn't hit hard enough to kill... That would be no fun.

...

Saph sat outside the larger room, his eyes closed, his back against the wall, the feeling of his heart beating drowning out the sound of his slowing breath. He needed to focus... He needed to let his gift see as well as it could, better than it ever had... if he wanted to make it out of this alive; if he wanted to save these people.

He started to focus on what he could feel past the wall behind him... steps... shapes... bodies moving... There were three... no, four now. One was entering... He had a rifle in his hands; They all did, but Saph had the feeling this guy was the same one that unloaded a clip at him in the hallway... Namely because when he walked in, the others moved to more favorable positions one by one.... Damn, he was a good leader as well... They were further from entrances and ambush points now, nearer to cover... in places where their hostages were more likely to get hurt if he tried to attack from the front door at range...

This would be a real challenge... He was gonna have to get... creative.

Her eyes darted behind her quickly, widening a fraction at what she saw, before she pinned them back on the guy. This game he was playing... she apparently wasn't the first victim. The way he spoke about it, like it was a game that he just loved playing, made her stomach flip-flop. What had she gotten herself into now?

Her eyes darted over to where the door was located, unhappily just at the same time he started moving. With her back still pressed against the wall, she held herself upright as he slowly closed in. Did he really think she'd just stand there and wait for him too-- OHGOD!

He lunged, already in the motion of striking out at her. Megan dropped, using the wall behind her to keep herself steady, and reared an arm back. As his palm was landing smack into the wall, her fist was traveling with all of the strength she could muster into his crotch. She was sure that if the punch landed, she'd have time to try and sweep a leg out from under him... and then she'd have a good chance of crawling on top and pummeling him with her fists before he could recover. If not... or if she chickened out, she had a back up plan. Scramble out of the way, and cross the room to gain from distance between them. Then she'd need to head for the door since it was the only exit...

***

Outside, the group of captured survivors huddled together and kept quiet. From what the more observant ones could muster, something had gone wrong. Someone was causing problems somewhere... and from what one of their captors had said, people were already dead.

'Good... you rat bastards deserve whatever you get..' The boy currently observing peered out from around his fathers shoulder. He'd witnessed a lot happen in the last few minutes.. from the strange woman who'd appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and then promptly gotten herself carted off to see 'The boss', to Clive, as the others called him, joining their happy little sit down. The boy, Patrick, shifted on his feet. He was starting to feel little cramps spring up in his legs from crouching for so long. He wanted desperately to stand and stretch his legs, but with the secret he was working on grasped in his hands, he needed the cover to finish his task.

What was he working on, you ask? A toothbrush. He'd been working on it since they'd been forced to settle down to camp... and by now, it was nearly pointy enough to make any prison gang banger swell with pride. His eyes were currently locked on the back of Harry's, or Dirty Harry, head. Hid father didn't know it, which was a good thing, but the moment Patrick saw a chance he was planning on launching himself at the man. In all reality, he didn't expect to survive. If he could only get a few stabs in before he got cut down, though, he'd at least feel like he'd gotten a little revenge for his mothers death.

The monster's had dragged her off hours ago, and she hadn't returned yet. He could only assume that she'd met the same fate as they other two women.

A palm met the wall, and an impact was felt between his legs, which ludicrously enough just drew another chuckle from him. Mainly because she had just punched a cup as hard as she could... ouch..."Yeah... Learned that lesson on number two... you're number 18..." Instead of doing anything quickly, he simply placed one knee against the wall in front of her, where she was trying to scurry to the very locked door; he had to knock right to be let out, actually. It was the only setup that worked, to tell the truth.

His second action would be to take the other knee and place it right on her neck, slowly applying more and more pressure. He was like a snake, slowly stalking it's prey... taking it's time... and then striking... or in this case... constricting?

...

He had an image now, kept in his mind... the more he moved around the central room, the better he could develop it. He had an idea... it was a bad one, but it was one... He'd collected a rifle from one of the two men he'd killed, as well as his paper cutter blade. He figured right now they were in waiting mode... there were four of them... putting that number down to three would put them in panic mode... but taking out two at once...

Confusion, maybe?

As he lined up his shot, from not the front door, but the wall at the eastern side of the room, he made sure it was lined up to the two men, their hostages facing the door... From the side their human shields were useless. His only worry was that going through a wall, and a person might make it miss the last man... It was a risk he would have to take, though.

BLAM! He fired without thinking further about it, and then dove to the side, covering as the expected hail of bullets came his way... The hail of gunfire made it hard to see if one or two bodies fell... He didn't have time to think about it though... the front door was his destination now.

The POP POP of gun shots broke the tense silence that had befallen the group. One man was hit, one of the raider captors, and Patrick saw his chance to move. In an instant he'd jumped to his feet, neatly leaping over the two people cowering in front of him. The newly sharpened point of a toothbrush handle was barely visible in his hand as he darted forward behind where Harry stood, and drove the improvised knife into the man's neck from behind. Harry had been too distracted trying to pinpoint the source of the gunshots that felled the man beside him, letting loose a spattering of bullets. The sudden blinding pain that peppered his neck and shoulder as Patrick attacked forced a strangled gasp from him, before he dropped to his knees and plopped face first into the dirt.

Patrick blended back into the group before Harry even fell, his weapon tucked up into the sleeve of his long shirt. Though there was blood on his hand, once he crouched again it was easily hidden from searching eyes. The smirk on his lips, however, was left wide out in the open for all to see.

Clive turned as the echos of gunfire slowly quieted, first to see that Harry had been taken out, and then to spot the other kid that had been felled. The last guard, who wielded only a rusty machete, was frozen on the spot. The wide eyes and slacken jaw were both clear signs that he'd been caught off guard by the swift, violent attack... and the dark stain that now adorned the inner side of one pant leg spoke volumes about how terrified he was. One word from Clive, though, and the guy attempted to pull himself together.

***

With her air supply suddenly cut off, Megan was finding it hard to fight. Though her knuckles were hurting from discovering that the guy was wearing a cup, it didn't stop her from attempting to punch him again... and again... and again. By the time her lungs were burning, desperate for air, and she was gasping, she'd already managed to split open the skin of one fist. The other hand was busy trying in vein to push the knee away from her throat, to clear her air way again so she could get a breath. Her feet lashed out at his ankles and shins, and for a moment, panic set in. She could clearly remember the last time someone had done this to her... Put his hands around her throat and squeezed until spots were dancing before her eyes and it felt like she was drifting off into a strange numb sleep.

For a moment she was absolutely sure that it was going to happen again, with her eyes squeezed shut and the hands being replaced by some douches kneecap. But, just when it started to feel like her lungs were on fire, the pressure backed off. Instantly she toppled over to the side, one hand at her throat as she coughed and gasped for air. Johnny wasn't about to let her collect herself, however, as his hand fisted in her hair and she was jerked away from the wall.

In once smooth, almost effortless motion, he sent her flying back toward the bed. Her forehead connected solidly with the thick wood and metal frame, which drew a muttered curse from her lips. She could feel him closing back in on her, and ducked. It only took a second to notice that there was just enough room between the bed and the floor for her to wiggle under, and she didn't waste a moment before trying to squeeze herself in. With her lips firmly closed, she could feel web building up in her mouth. A last ditch tactic she'd use against him, if she was given the chance.

He was scared. He was freaking out. He hadn't even really realized it, but he'd pee'd himself... His name was Phil, and Phil was going to die in 45 seconds.

"Look at me, son..." Someone was saying something... Clive. Clive was talking to him. "LOOK AT ME." He looked at Clive. "You're gonna make it out of this alive, son, but only if you do exactly what I tell you." Wait... he was going to live? The thought alone made his hands start shaking, though it also made him embarrassed that he'd peed himself. You see, around here, if Clive said it was going to happen, it was going to happen.

"He'll be coming in the front door, next... He isn't dead if he had the sense to dive out of the way... You stand there." The older man pointed, and he moved. "Watch the door... The second it opens, starting firing and don't stop... He'll die, and we'll get out of this alive." He took a deep breath... and started staring.

Clive watched the kid for a second, and then turned and started walking. The kid was screwed; Johnny was screwed... Hell, this whole operation was screwed. He was headed out the back door by the time the Judge burst through the front door, took a few bullets in his armor and skin, and made poor Phil very very dead.

....

CRACK! The kid dropped like a rock... What was he... 18? He'd even pissed himself... The judge reminded himself that this was a war, and he'd picked the wrong side. He picked a stray bullet from his chest, still caught in his spider silk armor... the stuff was good, though it wouldn't be good enough to block bullets without his ability.

He looked about at all of the people cowering in the room... All terrified... At least they weren't dead... the Raiders all where, though their commander was unaccounted for, but he had a feeling the fact that the back door was wide open had something to do with that... His eye caught a random smile in the crowd, and he blinked a few times. "You... Where is she?" His eyes wandered over to one of the raiders, several stab wounds on his head and neck evidence of a possible uprising... Someone else had killed him.

"Where did the man go, as well?"

"You... Where is she?"

The nineteen year old stood as if he'd been commanded, his heart thudding away inside his chest. There was a hero standing before him! He needed to be respectful!... Wait... what had he said?

Patric snapped himself out of a daze and frowned. She? There were plenty of women who'd gone missing, but the image of the strange looking woman from before sprang to mind. She'd probably been a partner of some kind... though, he had no way of being certain. "If you're looking for the black haired woman, in the blood stained tank top... they grabbed her a little while ago. Took her to see their leader over on the other side of the main fire." The kid pointed, his expression sad and serious. If the lady was with the masked man, well... the he honestly didn't know what to tell him. "If they took her where they took a few of the other girls... I don't know if she'll be comin' back, sir."

His father stood at his side, shakily, one side of his face all bandaged up. He clapped a hand on his son's shoulder, eyes fixed on the imposing figure of the Judge, and nodded respectively. "If you don't mind... we're going to get these people out of here while we have the chance." Patrick watched his dad turn and start to round the others up, before turning his eyes back to the man who'd more or less just saved all of their hides.

"...Thanks... Really. I hope you know that I never believed an ill word that was said against you, before... before all of this." The kids eyes hardened for a moment, and he held his chin high. "I knew you were doin' good, out there fixing problems that other people choose to ignore. You're a real hero..."

***

An iron grip latched around her ankle before she made it all of the way under and with a yank he dragged her back out. Megan grunted and turned as best she could, angling a kick his way. She hoped her legs were long enough to reach him so she could plant her foot in his stomach. Johnny easily batted her attack aside, hauling her across the floor until she wasn't even able to cling to the bed frame, then let her ankle loose and moved to step over her.

Megan tried to wiggle away again by flopping onto her belly, but before she could find a place to latch on and pull herself out of harms way, he had a grip on one of her arms. He was easily able to overpower her and crank the arm back, with a twist he had it effectively pinned behind her. All of the clawing, kicking, and wriggling in the world didn't help her escape... but after a few moments of her thrashing against him, he seemed to grow either bored, or irritated with her struggles.

"This is my favorite part, you know." He started, almost purring at her. "When they struggle so desperately." She could feel him re-positioning himself, his weight lifting off of her temporarily. Then she felt a foot drop down between her shoulder blades, with enough force that her back popped and she grunted in pain. "But... then it get's kind of stale. You can only kick, scratch, and bite so many times before it's boring." With the pressure of his foot holding her down against the floor, he let up on her twisted arm. The grip tightened around her wrist as he forced her to extend it backwards, pulling her arm out toward him. She was forced to turn slightly with the action, and caught sight of the malicious gleam in his eyes.

"That's why I like to add a little excitement in every now and then... you know, spice things up!" As the last word left his tongue, she felt him tense. A second later and he yanked back on her arm, hard enough to pop it clean out of place. The scream that ripped from her throat was only obscured by the growing ball of silk within her mouth... but it was still enough to make the man grin wickedly. Johnny dropped the now useless appendage and bent to grab her tightly by the back of the neck, lifting her like a naughty kitten and tossing onto the bed. Another cry spilled forth when she landed on her injury, and he advanced once more. In a fit of desperation Megan lashed out at one of the burning candles beside the bed. She swatted the thing at him, sending a spray of hot wax in his face, then rolled over and attempted to flee to the other side of the room.

... She didn't make it far before he grabbed and spun her back around, then popped her swiftly in the jaw with a tightly curled fist. She saw stars for a moment, only a moment, and responded by hawking a sticky ball of silk straight into his looming face.

He didn't know what to say to the kid's words... What do you tell someone with eyes so full of hope that the man he admires is simply a shell of a being? A body with a purpose and nothing more.

Nothing, apparently. He simply turned, and walked in the direction the kid pointed.

The main fire was just that... a big fire. He could tell mostly by the feeling of heat and the movement of the slowly disappearing logs before him... Aside from that, there was nothing... He walked around the fire slowly, and sighed.... there were footprints on the ground that he could feel, but there were simply too many; it was a mess...

Where was she?

...

"So... like... three knocks, two knocks, then three again, right?"

"No, man... Three, two, and then three."

"That's what I said... right?"

"Not at all...So... you think Clive's cleaning up out there? Wish I could see him work."

"Please... I'd rather be in there." A greasy thumb gestured toward a sound proofed metal door. "The way they come out when he's done with them... The boss has gotta be some sorta beast... Wonder if he's about done yet."

CLING CLING. "Well... That'll be Clive finishing up." A lazy figure strolled on up to the hatch, and pushed it open slowly... only to see something he... really hadn't expected upon opening.

...

Well... That answered that... The Judge took a step back, and then a step forward, kicking the man's head like a field goal as he stood there with a shocked expression on his face. He fell down the steps, and his friend sat up quickly, pulling back the slide of his rifle and unloading the clip in the direction of his dead pal's body. ". . . Sal... Sal, you alive? Uh... Course not... Aww, man, this is bad... Gotta tell the bo-" A long, thick blade smacked into his back as he turned around... he bumped into the door, and slid slowly down it... The people inside the room wouldn't hear a thing.

Johnny recoiled, giving her just enough time to crank her leg back and plant it in his stomach. It didn't phase him as much as she'd have liked it too, considering all it earned her was an Oof! and a growl. But matched with the fact that he was struggling to remove her silk from his nose and eyes where it had splattered rather nicely, he was having a hard time keeping control of the situation. Not wanting to waste a single precious second, Megan threw herself off of the bed. One of the many candle stands scattered throughout the room was snatched up and instantly became a weapon. Though the length of metal wasn't all that heavy, it still packed a satisfying about of force behind it when she spun and swung it at him like a baseball bat.

Her weapon bent slightly from the impact, jarring her arm as well, but Johnny dropped from the edge of the bed onto the floor and Megan was on him instantly. She swung repeatedly, dragging her weapon up above her head in an arc with each attack. Her target... her attacker, barely made a sound as she rained down blows on him savagely. Curses, however, definitely left his lips.

She wasn't sure if her blows would be enough to injure him permanently, or kill him for that matter, but she couldn't stop. Each swing was powered by anger and fear. Johnny was no longer Johnny, but a man with cruel hands who sifted through her nightmares. So intent on hurting him was she, that she didn't notice when she scored a good hit on him, and just kept going. Johnny was out like a light, unable to react to the pain she inflicted upon in her barrage of blows.

It wasn't until her arm started to protest against lifting the candle stand again, that she ceased. Her whole body shook from the effort and adrenaline. The twenty eight year old struggled to catch her breath, her face flushed red from overexertion, and staggered back a few steps before collapsing onto her rear. Once she was seated she was able to think a little more clearly... she also spotted a peppering of little red flecks that now adorned her legs and stomach. Blood from the many gashes she'd beaten into Johnny. Her eyes focused back on the man, who wasn't the demon she'd envisioned him to be. He was just some A-hole who liked to hold power over everyone....

Warm tears blurred her sight momentarily, and with her makeshift weapon settled in her lap, she scooted back until she could rest against the wall. She was unsure as to where exactly she'd been taken, figuring that it couldn't have been too far away from the main camp, but knew that without her clothes and her knife she'd need to stay put for a while. Especially with a painful, nagging injury. She'd never had anything knocked out of socket before... So she didn't exactly know how to treat it, or what not. Putting pressure on it relieved some of the pain, and she knew that with enough force you could pop it back in place.. but.. she wasn't sure if she'd manage to do that.

One glance over at Johnny's still form, however, brought back the reality of the situation. If he woke up and she was still around, he'd be pissed...

Gritting her teeth, Megan turned herself to align her shoulder with the wall... took a deep, shaky breath... and threw herself against it with all of the strength she could muster.

"M@%&# @%^#&*$# SON OF A #%^@& HORSE @^%$ $#%^@*&$%!!"

Well... that hadn't worked!... And now she was crying, too!

Johnny was knocked out, sure... but that never really lasted long... it felt like it... People were always asking stuff like, "How long was I out?", or "Did I win?" He didn't say that stuff as all as he came to.

"You really did it now... I should have known you'd be a mutant. If I would have known, I would have killed you right then and there... But now... Now I'm going to make it even worse." He stirred as he spoke, moving almost like a labored machine, sitting up slowly, and placing his arms under him. "I'll choke you out again... and then I'll wake you up... bust your other arm... Then I'll beat your face in... After that..." He pulled himself to a knee, took a breath, feeling a fresh bruise on his face. "After that I'll break your legs.... And then... after you beg. Nicely... sweetly." He finally pulled himself to a standing position leaning on the wall heavily as he did so. "I'll have my way with you... After that... Once you beg even more... I'll finally kill you. You'll have to ask really nicely, though."

"Oh?" Apparently he'd been out longer than he thought... Someone else was in the room. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground again, a new bruise on his face.

The Judge turned to his companion, his expression hidden by his metal mask. "Are you alright?" Of course she wasn't... At least it sounded like she'd managed to fight him off before he'd gone too far... He flinched as he felt a bite on his shoulder, and looked to the man before him...

My oh my... He really had a lot of sins to be punished for, didn't he? It was best they got to work.