Chapter Six: Feeling

So sorry for the extremely long delay, guys...I started working again and got kinda swamped. Anyway, here is chapter six. Only one more chapter till part II!!!

Linnea's hand was steady, her breathing regular, and her knuckles white around the metal of the gun. She stared at the woman sitting across from her with a vehement, corrosive hate. Her finger curled around the trigger, but she refrained from pulling it. She needed information more than she needed Cassandra's life.
"I want you to tell me what you've been doing to me."
Cassandra stared at her with a painfully familiar smirk lighting her lips and shook her head.
"Why?"
Linnea laughed humorlessly, her voice heavily sarcastic as she replied.
"Oh, I don't know. Just because I'm holding a gun in my hands with one finger on the trigger and the safety flipped isn't a good enough reason I suppose."
"You've never even hit anyone in your life. Seventeen years masquerading as your mother let me get to know you relatively well, Linnie."
She flinched at the old nickname, barrel of the gun trembling in her shaky hands.
"I've changed."

Cassandra's smirk became a full-blown grin.
"Prove it."
Linnea fired a shot into the wall, only an inch to the left of Cassandra's smug face. The latter flinched and Linnea thought she could detect a faint flash of fear in the cold blue eyes. She didn't take her eyes from Cassandra's as she took aim again, this time directly at her adoptive mother's heart.

"I've killed already, Cassandra, probably more than you could understand. You don't know who I'm working for or how I escaped from your sick, twisted little lab. Now tell me why I was there and what you did to me."
All traces of amusement were gone from Cassandra's face now. She was staring at her impudent daughter with hatred and fear.
"I suppose I don't have much of a choice."
Linnea's anger was nearly uncontrollable, but she forced herself to listen calmly as Cassandra began to explain things in a cold, quiet voice that sent chills up and down her spine.She fought to keep her breathing steady as cold sweat sprang up on the back of her neck and the hair on her arms rose. When Cassandra had finished, her face had drained of what little color it still had and her eyes looked deep, sunken, as though she had aged a hundred years since first accosting the woman before her. She managed to make her frozen lips move one last time, force chocked words past the mass of twisted wire that was her throat.
"Why?"
Cassandra smirked.
"I had thought it would be obvious. At first it was just a scientific study. Now, it's far more. You are a powerful weapon, little Linnea, you just don't realize it yet."
Linnea shook her head, a brief quick motion that allowed her to keep control of her thoughts and speak past the redness dancing in front of her eyes. She had already grasped why they had done it.
"I meant why the electricity."
"Oh. Well, you see, your father made a mistake in the last operation...he hasn't been thinking to clearly these days, I wonder if he's gone soft...Anyway, the malfunctioning machinery is causing the shocks. We could put it right for you if you if you came back to us. Just a thought."
She stood to leave, and Linnea, though her finger tightened on the trigger, didn't move to stop her.

Cassandra stopped outside the building, cold rage etched on her alien features. She was furious at allowing herself to be manipulated by an insubordinate teenager. Her heels made a sharp noise against the pavement as she stopped just outside the building and dialed as fast as her experienced fingers allowed.
"I've decided to increase my payment."

Mike tucked something small and black into his pocket, just as Linnea entered the room. She was too exhausted to notice; the world was a blur around her trembling muscles. She sank onto the couch, pressing the cold metal of the gun against her throbbing forehead. Somewhere clinical in the back of her mind told her that she was trembling and exhausted from simple shock and that she should eat something, but her stomach protested so violently to the thought of food that she flinched and forced herself to re-examine her recent encounter. Mike looked coldly at her from his perch in the armchair.
"What's going on, kid? Am I going to be able to use you or what?"

Reluctantly, she pushed herself into a seating position and fixed him with a blank, glassy stare.
"I don't know."
She couldn't bring herself to tell him what Cassandra had told her. He already used her as a weapon; she couldn't imagine what his thirst for power would drive him to if he discovered the rest of it.
"Some machinery she put in me is malfunctioning and causing the electricity."
Mike didn't seem to care about the machinery. Instead of inquiring anxiously for details, he fixed her with an assessing glance.
"Is it fatal?"
Linnea shook her head slowly.
"She didn't say."
"Are you willing to work for me anyway?"
She gave a mirthless, semi-hysterical laugh that revealed her fragile mental state for a brief moment.
"Do I have a choice?"
She tossed the gun back into his hands before collapsing on her bed and allowing darkness to overtake her consciousness.

Linnea stayed with Mike for what felt like centuries, but was truly only a little over a year. She grew up quickly; any young girl forced into the situation she was in would have. Her face soon lost what little innocence it had left. Her eyes grew sharp and dangerous, her body became lean and muscular. Even her emotions changed. She began to feel mere echos of what she had felt before. Everything was muted, tamped down by her circumstances. And she killed whenever Mike asked her to. Then, abruptly, what had become a very painful existence began to change...

She had been forced to kill again that night. An innocent woman this time,but one who had unexpected resources. Linnea hadn't anticipated the police defenses. She had been forced to electrocute three cops before fleeing, and now it was catching up with her. Black spots danced dizzyingly in front of her eyes as she boarded the elevator to the fourth floor. By the time she had forced her fumbling fingers to unlock the door and made her trembling legs propel her down the hall, she was twitching and shaking uncontrollably and holding onto consciousness with sheer willpower. She forced her numbed brain to think, to get help. Mike would know what to do about this, he would be able to stop it without police snooping around. He was asleep when she staggered into his room, but she couldn't muster the strength to wake him. Instead, she let out a choked cry at the pain wracking her body, and collapsed on the floor.

Mike sat up slowly, groggy from sleep. She watched through the pounding behind her eyes as he stretched and yawned widely.
"What is it kiddo? I've had a long day, so unless you failed to kill her it can wait a couple hours."
Linnea watched mutely from the floor, limbs twitching madly. She supposed this was what it felt like to be tasered. Her brain, which had ground to a halt from the pain, moved slowly back into action. Cassandra had warned her this would happen eventually. But it wouldn't kill her. They had seen to that. She would just hurt for a while, until the machine did an automated reboot and system repair. It would solve the problem, Cassandra had said. It would simply cause it to happen over and over again. Linnea now realized that she would kill herself if she had to endure it for too long. She had entertained thoughts of suicide for a long time now, but never had the courage to actually put a gun to her own head. She tried to verbalize her realizations, to get Mike to put her in a bed somewhere and let the problem resolve itself, but all that came out of her mouth was another garbled whimper.

She saw him stand up, rub the sleep our of his eyes. When his gaze landed on her, she managed to extend a trembling hand. Mike stared for a few seconds, then his eyes narrowed.
"Shit."
Linnea writhed on the floor, victim to the pain in her nerves. It was particularly acute in her chest, where something burned white hot. Mike bent over her, hand positioned at the base of her skull.
"I don't want to help you kiddo, but I'm a killer. I don't like torture."
Everything went black.

The next thing Linnea was aware of was a pink uniform. Now that was strange. She watched it spread and blurred, lapping at the edges of her mind. The pain was gone. That was the most important thing. Gingerly, she flexed her muscles and curled her hands into fists. Nothing. She felt fine. Perhaps a little groggy, but that would be the pain killers. She didn't want to leave the hospital, where she was safe from everything that had been trying to hurt her lately. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice. Mike would be expecting her. She sighed and slid out from under the covers. The nurse turned to frown at her.
"Where are you going?"
Linnea raised an eyebrow.
"Home."
Even as she said the word, it sounded hollow. She hadn't had a home in two years. The nurse pushed her gently back onto the bed, which sent a wave of dizziness over her. She put a hand over her eyes, blocking out the fluorescent lights above her.

The nurse, having finished injecting something into an IV Linnea hadn't even noticed before, turned back to her with a frown etched on her face. The red of her hair clashed horribly with her pink uniform.
"Look, sweety, I know you feel fine now, but you should have seen yourself when you regained consciousness an hour ago. We had to sedate you just to perform an examination. Panic registered in her brain, but Linnea kept her face carefully free of emotion.
"And?"
The nurse's frown became even more pronounced.
"Well we couldn't find the source of the trouble."
"So why can't I leave then?"
"We want to do an exploratory operation. Your mother was here and signed off on it, so we'll start tomorrow morning."
Linnea's panic raged in the back of her mind, but she kept it at bay. If she got worked up, the pain would return. She didn't answer, but instead closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

She left as soon as her nurse was off-duty. It was a simple matter to escape; the nurses were occupied with their own patients and didn't notice as she slipped out of bed and walked purposefully down the hall. As she had suspected, Cassandra was sitting in the waiting room, with concern etched upon her face. A simple karate chop to the base of her skull had taken care of her, and after that it was only a matter of getting past the front desk. Linnea didn't feel like fighting, but she was forced to render the hospital guards unconscious as she ran out the door.

Unfortunately, she hadn't thought her escape through very well. After the taxi dropped her off in front of Mike's building, she realized she couldn't pay the cabbie. Linnea stood, staring at her 'home' with hot eyes. It hadn't really hit her before, what she was running back to. But she had no friends, and Mike knew everyone in the city. He would track her down anyway, even if there was somewhere for her to go. With a sigh, she turned and walked toward the building, concrete cold against her bare feet, streetlights bouncing off pieces of broken glass in a prismatic rhythm that was strangely soothing. The cabbie wasn't too happy.
"Hey! Think you can con a free ride? Think again sunshine! I oughta call the police!"
Linnea ignored him, but stopped stock still at the sound of another male voice undercutting the middle-aged hysteria.
"Calm down, my man, I'll take care of it. How much does she owe you?"
Linnea didn't recognize him, and her entire body tensed with alarm as she turned around.

He looked at her, faintly puzzled, and Linnea realized she did know him. He was plastered on posters all over the city. He modeled for every major men's clothing line in the country. She frowned. What the hell was he doing here, and three o clock in the morning, in downtown Oakshire? He smiled at her frown.
"I was just heading home and you caught my attention. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night in a hospital gown?"
Linnea folded her arms across her chest. His perfect face didn't faze her...much.
"Names first."
He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward.
"Vincent Marlow."
She nodded, extending a hand for him to shake. A smile lit his face yet again.
"Not so fast. I didn't get a name."
Linnea paused for a fraction of a second. Oh hell, if you die, you die. It's not like your life's worth much any more.
"Linnea Sage."
She used her real last name too, not the one she'd gotten from Cassandra and Steven.
"Can I give you a ride home?"
"I don't have a home."
He was surprised at that, his eyes widening. Slowly, he took in her hospital gown, her strange disheveled appearance, and her freshly manicured nails, which were at complete odds with her scowling face.
"Oh what the hell. I'll take you home with me."
It took some persuading, but she finally agreed and climbed into his black BMW. It didn't impress her much. She'd killed someone in a car just like this one not too long ago. He looked slightly miffed at her lack of expression, but drove her to the upscale district without comment. She followed him through a posh lobby, up a doorman-operated elevator lined with mirrors, and into an apartment that could have been straight from a movie.

After he had unlocked the door and hung up his coat on one of the many hooks in the foyer, he turned back to Linnea.
"We'll have to get my sister's approval first, I'm afraid. She lives her, mooching off of me, but she's working as the cook, so I have to consult her with executive decisions."
Linnea responded to his easy humor with a surprised smile. She hadn't laughed in god knew how long, and it eased some of the tension in her chest. He led her through an entrance hall, a living room, and a hallway lined with wood paneling and carpeted with lush red fabric. Finally, he found the woman he was looking for in a dining room only slightly less extravagant than the rest of the house. Linnea blanched when she saw the nurse who had treated her in the hospital the other day. She frowned, not recognizing Linnea right away.
"What do you have there, Vince? It's usually my job to pick up strays."
Vincent bent over to kiss her cheek.
"Hey, Cara. Good to see you too. Why are you all dressed up."
She raised a coy eyebrow.
"I went for a drink with a friend after I got off at the hospital."
He grinned.
"Can my stray stay here for a while then sis? I'm always accommodating with yours."
"Well, I guess...hang on. I've seen you before."
She frowned. Linnea glared, instinctively tensing her body for a fight.
"How the hell did you get out? And get picked up by my brother of all people? Oh for christ's sake, this just tops the list. I could lose my job for this!"
Linnea tried to relax her loose muscles, and felt some remorse for making trouble.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were his sister. I can easily find somewhere else to stay."
Cara sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. Vincent looked puzzled.
"Wait, what's going on? What happened?"
He turned to his sister, who spread her hands in a helpless gesture.
"She's set for diagnostic surgery this morning. I told her...it couldn't have been more than a few hours ago. How she got out..."
Linnea kept her arms limp, though her instinct was to fight her way out of the apartment.
"Look, I can't let anybody do surgery on me. That woman in there...she wasn't my mother. Not my real one anyway, and I had to..."
To her alarm, panic was rendering her incoherent.
"I knocked the guards out and ran. Took a taxi downtown and Vincent picked me up. I'm sorry if you lose your job."

After a few more painful minutes of interrogation and more of discussion, it was agreed that Linnea would stay with them for a while. Cara led her into a plain, immaculately clean bedroom and yanked some clothes out of the dresser. After her momentary shock, she had reverted to a warm, pleasant attitude.
"Let's see, we'll have to take you shopping tomorrow, but I can lend you clothes tonight. And for now, what you need is rest. I'm surprised you're not going into shock."
She frowned for a moment, but detecting nothing strange in Linnea's body temperature or muscle control, decided she could be left alone to bathe and change.
"Sleep as late as you like, sweety. My shift doesn't start until this afternoon and I can take care of you until then."

For the first time in months, Linnea fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.