An offer you Can't refuse by Allen Kitchen Cheyanne © Mary Minch and Mary Minch Productions September, 1997 [ It is very thin, that veil between man and beast within, and as important to mankind as hands and speech. God himself placed the barrier there, eons ago. He did so not to save the beasts of the world from us, but to save us from ourselves! ] Cheyanne forced her wings to lay flat on the wet roof, and her tail to be still. She had to be very careful that the guards standing around on the damp sidewalk below did not see her. They would likely shoot her on sight, since none of them knew who she was. Or even what she was for that matter. People often came unglued at the mere sight of her. She was becoming used to it. She lowered her head out of sight. Her target would recognize her instantly if she slipped up. She couldn't take that chance, so she silently crept back away from the roof's edge on all fours, then relaxed again, settling down on the wet rocky roof. Dom "The anvil" Vespucci could arrive any time now. Cheyanne shook the dampness out of her mane while she went over things in her head yet one more time. She knew that she should keep her thoughts focused on what she was doing, but she couldn't help it. Even assassins had memories to go over. Dom was the head of the Garbonzo crime family. They chose that name because anytime somebody got arrested, he "didn't know beans about nuthin". Dom was the Capo, the 'godfather' if you watched too many old movies. And he ruled the Garbonzo crime syndicate with an iron will. Thus his nickname, "the Anvil". It was he who discovered Cheyanne about a year ago. And it was he who made her that bitter offer: Join the mob, or be exposed to the mad scientists who created her and still hunted for her! She flexed her paw muscles. The sharp claws extended out from her lion paws in front, but not from her tiger paws in back. Her claws always came out whenever she thought about those fiendish scientists that turned her into what she was today. Anyone standing on the roof and looking at her wouldn't know what to make of her. But then again, she didn't know what to make of herself. So it all evened out. Cheyanne had the head and the front end of a lion, but the back and tail of a tiger. She had a thick black mane of fur all about her head and shoulders. Throw in a set of huge eagle wings, and you pretty much described her... except for one thing. Until about one year ago, Cheyanne was just a happy, ordinary, teenage girl from the midwest. Cheyanne closed her eyes, and let her mind drift for a moment. She had a moment or two free to daydream. Her mind was still fully human, thank god. Those maniacs back in GeneFrac had left THAT alone at least. They only changed her shape and her body. Her brain was untouched, as was her spirit. That is, she thought her spirit was unchanged. But with all she had been through, would she ever really know for certain? Could they have done something to her immortal soul with their gene tampering? Cheyanne never did learn what it was the scientists were trying to accomplish, fusing the genetic material from animals into her DNA like they did. She knew that the result surprised all of them though. Shocked them, to be honest about it. It would have been poetic if one of the people there at GeneFrac had been named Frankenstein, for they had quite literally turned her into a monster. A monster who used to be a teenage girl. A misshapen 4 legged walking horror whose worst worry used to be who she'd go to the Junior Prom with and how to sneak in past curfew. But that was before the scientists from GeneFrac kidnapped her and turned her into this... this thing. That was a whole other life ago. She didn't worry anymore about whether or not her boyfriend was looking at other girls. Nowdays her worst worry was whether or not she could live to see another sunrise. At least she was free now. She wasn't a prisoner anymore. That was a miracle in and of itself. The managers and supervisors of GeneFrac had kept her caged in their lab on the east coast for months. They performed all sorts of hideous experiments on her! They took her blood, they cut her skin, and far worse. They poked and they prodded her mutated body in unnatural ways for what seemed like an eternity. She didn't know what they were searching for. They never bothered to tell her. All she knew was they ignored her cries of agony and pressed on like she was some kind of insect. Then one day, they drugged her, and took her out of her cage. When she awoke, she found herself on a bouncing mattress tossed carelessly inside of an old truck. Some sort of semi tractor trailer. She had no idea where she was, or how long she had been unconscious. She only knew that she was hungry, sick from the drugs, and dying of thirst. How long had it been since she had eaten or drank anything? She couldn't remember. But in the odd moment of lucid thought, she wondered just who the monsters truly were... her, or the madmen who created her? The maniacs seemed to think of her not as a sentient person, but as a plaything. They were careless with their toys, she decided. There was no food or water in the van. They didn't seem to care if she arrived alive or not. Well, Cheyanne cared! Even if it was covered with several types of fur, it was still her skin. And she wanted it and the rest of her to live a little while longer, thank you. She wasn't sure where the van was heading, but she knew that she didn't much like the place it came from. And the destination wasn't likely to be any better, even if she survived to reach it. Not much chance of that, with no food or water though. So she gathered up what was left of her strength, and pulled up on a loose panel in the floor. She was surprised at how easily the metal sheet broke free. The darkness that greeted her as the floor yielded to her great strength told her that it was nighttime. Cheyanne figured the people at GeneFrac must have added some bear to her genetic stirfry. That would account for her unbelievable strength. She watched the asphalt road whiz by beneath the truck, and patiently waited for the right moment to escape. When the truck stopped momentarily at a traffic light, she hopped down through the floor, and curled up tightly. She folded her wings as close to her body as she could, making sure the truck didn't hurt her as it passed over. Also to make sure that the driver wouldn't notice her in the rearview mirrors as it left. She was lucky. The truck drove on into the night, the driver unaware that his 'passenger' had gone. She laid there in the darkened road for a moment or two, hugging herself and crying. Wondering why the fates had been so cruel to her, she slowly stood up and made her way toward a closed quickymart there at the light. It must have been very late indeed, for a corner store not to be open. Cheyanne smashed the glass door in, and gulped down the first bottle of Gatorade she came upon. Later, after quaffing down 3 more bottles, she gathered up all the food she could carry, and ate the entire beef jerky display. After that, she made her way to the next city by flying above, then landing and lying down upon the top of a passing semi truck. When she finally arrived in the city, she located a vacant dilapidated building not far from the waterfront. It used to be a warehouse, but hadn't been used for some time. Cheyanne made her new home there. It wasn't much of a home, really. Just a place for her to hide throughout the day and cry into her paws. A place to lay low and sob about how much she missed her boyfriend, her parents, her friends, her body, everything. And it was a place for her to occasionally sleep until nightfall, when she could spread her eagle wings and take to the sky again in search of food. She thought over and over about going back to her parents. It would be a long trip. She missed everyone so much. But what could they do to help her regain her former shape? Would her parents even believe her story? What could they do to help her anyway? They were just good country folk, who didn't know the first thing about technology. And besides, her mother had a weak heart. The shock of seeing her could kill her mom. Forget about the story. Just her appearance would be enough. Cheyanne decided it was better for everyone that she just stay away until she could somehow figure out how to regain her human body. As much as she missed everyone in her life, she couldn't bear to face them like this. She would either find a way to return to normal and go home, or she would stay here and let everyone think she just vanished. Which wasn't too far from the truth, she glumly thought as she held her tail close to her chest. She could always try to capture one of the scientists that did this to her, but she abandoned that idea from the start. Killing the immoral maniacs might make her feel good, but it wouldn't get her body back. And besides, they might catch her again somehow, and do God-knows-what to her. Cheyanne decided contacting GeneFrac was much too risky. She was never going to even let them come close to touching her again. So she stayed there in the warehouse for several weeks. Sleeping during the day, and flying out at night to feed. There wasn't a lot for her to eat around the city of course. Occasionally she managed to snatch up a dog in the street, but she often went to sleep with an empty belly. Sometimes she preferred going to bed hungry to killing what was likely somebody's pet. Her drive to survive sometimes overrode her human qualms about killing. It was a sad existence, and very lonely. And the fact that she had to act like an animal just to survive bothered her always. It was there in the warehouse that she first met the mob! Cheyanne had unwittingly chosen the same place that the syndicate used to drop off the cash they needed laundering. She awoke when she heard the tin doors slide open, echoing in the vast empty building. She didn't know who they were, but she wasn't going to take any chances. She hid herself among the boxes up in the loft, and cautiously watched the 4 men as they passed an open briefcase around, nodding amongst themselves at the contents. The beam Cheyanne was sitting on creaked, cracked, then gave way completely under her weight. All 4 suits spun towards her as she fell to the ground, and quickly drew their guns from unseen holsters. She landed on her paws (deciding that feline genes were good for something after all) and rose up again to her full 7 foot height. The men wet themselves as they screamed out in terror. They were shaking so badly that only one of the bullets they fired actually hit her. In the shoulder. Something inside her flipped on like a switch. Cheyanne roared, loud and angrily, and then charged straight into the 4 men. She spun around, snapping her jaws and raking her claws for several moments. A sticky wet splatter soaked her mane. There was a thick, heavy smell in her nostrils. She tasted the salty warm blood on her lips as she first killed one, then another, then another. Cheyanne would have killed all 4 of them in her rage, but the last man (the one with the briefcase) had sense enough to know when to run for it. She snarled after him as she stood over his comrades, watching him rush out the sliding door. A few seconds later, she heard tires squealing on the pavement. She was very hungry, and the taste and the scent of blood drove a part of her wild with hunger. She could feel the animal instincts within her demanding the meat from the bodies of the 3 dead men. The same instincts which caused her to slaughter them. The idea of consuming them revolted her, but the instincts within her were strong, and she almost gave in to them. Almost, but not quite. After several tense moments, she decided that she was not an animal. Not yet anyway. She was still a human being, no matter what she looked like. And fangs or no fangs, she was not going to devour anybody for any reason. Because if she did, she knew that there could be no hope for her at all. Then there would be no turning back. She would be just what she looked like. A beast! That night, Cheyanne made several flights with their bodies. She carried them one at a time and dropped them in the river, a far- off field, and a very distant hillside. That way the police couldn't trace the mutilated corpses back to her hideaway. She also stole a lock and chain for the sliding door to ensure nobody else surprised her like that again. She could fly in and out the gaping hole in the roof of the far side of the building. But nobody would disturb her further. Or so she thought. 3 days later, around noon, Dom "the anvil" came by. They snapped the chain in two with bolt cutters, and just walked on in. The sound jolted Cheyanne awake instantly, the sting in her shoulder a clear reminder of just how mortal she still was. She watched carefully as the dozen or so men came in, flanking the little fat man in a snow-white suit. Most of the men were carrying guns. Very big guns. They nervously looked about, up and all around them, as if they were expecting some shadow to spring to life and attack them. Dom then called out to her, by name. Her real human name. Now THAT was a surprise! How could the little squat man possibly know who she was? She needed more information. Cheyanne decided she could always make an escape out the hole in the roof if she needed to, so she slowly and carefully prowled around the boxes and debris along the farthest wall from them. She tried to keep her distance, to present a hard target and as little threat to the men as possible. It wasn't enough though. The men all gasped and took a step back at the sight of her. One almost beat himself to a pulp genuflecting. Cheyanne growled as the frightened men all leveled their heavy weapons at her. Dom smiled, took two steps forward, and motioned for his men to lower their guns. Reluctantly, they all did so. He then turned, and introduced himself. He told Cheyanne that he knew all about her, and proved it. He knew who had done the transformation to her, who she once was, and who her parents were. He said he even knew some people inside GeneFrac he could call upon now and then. Cheyanne asked how he could possibly know all that. Dom responded by holding up a videotape, saying that in the future she should be more careful about security cameras whenever she robbed a store. He added that his contacts inside GeneFrac told him how they were desperate to find a lost project, and to keep an eye out for a flying talking lion. He was still smiling at her as he made his offer. Join them, and he would steal the cure from GeneFrac for her as soon as it was developed. Refuse, and he would give the scientists her exact location, not to mention what he could do to her parents. Cheyanne bared her teeth angrily at his threat against her family, and asked him if he really thought the bodyguards could keep her from killing him if he ticked her off? She was shocked at how deep and strong her voice was. He laughed aloud, and said that they could kill a herd of elephants with the firepower they brought. Sure, she could probably get to him before she died. But she would die, that was certain. And besides, Dom pointed out, there were a number of things that she could do that nobody, no human being, could ever do. Burglaries, tailing people, breaking into secured buildings. If she was smart, he told her, then she could profit from her unique abilities. He offered her a life of relative comfort, and a chance to become normal again, if she would just work for him awhile. How could she refuse such an offer? The mob really knew how to live, she had to admit. Cheyanne's life was suddenly very different. Dom set her up in a very cozy penthouse at the top of a skyscraper, so she could fly in or out at her leisure. Anything she wanted, she got for the asking via a private electric dumbwaiter and telephone. Flowers, chocolate, fresh meat, anything. She continued to sleep throughout the day and only go out at night so nobody in the building or on the streets would ever see her. But everything has its price. And for her new lifestyle, the price was murderous. Literally. The Anvil sent her off to kill certain people who threatened his hold on power. She killed District Attorneys who knew too much. She also 'wasted' little upstarts in the organization who didn't know their place. The first killing bothered her some, but the man mercifully died quietly in her jaws. The second killing bothered her less, as she gradually became accustomed to the taste and the smell of blood in her fur. She didn't even remember the others anymore. As time moved on, and the body count grew, nobody in the city dared defy Dom. Which was just how he wanted it. Nobody ever knew who was killing his enemies and how, but everyone knew better than to cross him. And only Dom and his closest allies knew about her. Nobody else in the organization even knew she existed, much less saw her. She was Dom's [Morte nelle Tenebre] which could hit anyone, anywhere, and never leave a trace. She got quite good at her new vocation as a mobster, but she never felt comfortable with it. She was supposed to be a good church-going young woman, she thought. This could have been her senior year in High School. But here she was, killing people and stealing for a living. How on earth could she be doing this? What would her mother think if she could see her now? Her mother would probably have a heart attack just from the sight of her, she glumly reminded herself. At night, when the mob didn't have anything for her to steal or anyone for her to kill, she was free to fly where and when she pleased. She could go anywhere in the city and do anything she wanted. Not that there was a lot for a 7 foot lion-headed flying monster to do of course. But she was free! She wasn't locked inside some cage while biologists and genetic engineers probed her most intimate places. She belonged to herself once more. But she was alone. Totally alone. In the daytime, she holed up inside her penthouse and cried into her satin pillows. Tears staining the silky material, she longed for her old body and her old life. She missed her family and her boyfriend so much! How did things ever come to this, she constantly sobbed. Why oh why was she now a nightmare incarnate? Cheyanne kept wishing that somehow it was all just a very bad dream, and that she would wake up soon. She pinched herself repeatedly in the hopes that she would wake up in her own skin, in her parents' house. No such luck. Occasionally at night, she would land in the walled yard of one of the churches. She would stare up at the stained-glass window, lit from within by the electric lights. Closing her eyes and fighting back her tears, she would then pray to God almighty for deliverance from the evils that surrounded her. She would beg for freedom from her body, and for an escape from the horrors that she was forced to commit in order to survive. All she wanted was to be a normal girl again. To love and to be loved. Possibly marry somebody and have children. Have a home in the suburbs, and hold her family in her arms. It wasn't wrong to want those things. And she was entitled. She was a human being, no matter what shape she was currently in. It just wasn't fair! In her mind and her heart, she was STILL just a teenage girlÉ Who tore people's throats out with her teeth. A car door slammed on the street below her, and Cheyanne's mind instantly snapped back to what she was doing. She stopped her musings, and cautiously peeked over the edge of the roof again. She looked down onto the street, hoping to find her target. She didn't see him. Only some doctor type in a tuxedo walking around his Porsche. She sighed, and slipped back down out of sight once more. It was just like Dom, she thought, to be late for his own assasination. Oh yes. That was her target for tonight. Dom "the anvil" himself was now marked for death by Tony "the hammer" Caruso! And she was stuck doing all the dirty work. Tony had taken advantage of Dom's recent vacation in order to grab control of the syndicate. He managed to eliminate all of the anvil's close allies, and put his own people in charge. About half the mob now swore allegiance to Tony, deciding that Dom had been in charge for too long and that it was time for new blood. A horrific gang war was brewing. Cheyanne could feel it. One half of the syndicate swore loyalty to Tony. The other half swore loyalty to Dom. And soon there would be new blood all right. lots of it, all over the streets. And hers could be spilled too, right down into the sewers if she wasn't careful. She tried to stay out of sight, and even abandoned her apartment. She retreated to her old hideout back in the warehouse district in an effort to avoid the coming conflict. She flew inside with as much food and water as she could carry. She found Tony himself sitting there, waiting for her. All alone. Yet another surprise. He didn't even have a gun with him that she could see. Tony just sat there reading a magazine, which he promptly put down upon her arrival. Tony quietly told her that it was the dawn of a new era in the syndicate. He said that the time had come to move away from all the murdering and guntoting. The times had changed and it was time, he said, to take control of the lawyers and the courts and run the city that way. Only one person stood in the way of such progress. Her boss. Dom. Just kill him, Tony said, and she would never have to kill anyone else ever again. Tony knew that Dom's butchering jobs bothered her. He'd seen her face often enough after she completed a hit. Only one more death, he promised, and she would be free of any hold that Dom ever held over her. She'd never again have to kill another human being. But what Dom held out was a chance to become normal! He promised to help her become a woman once more. How could she kill him, no matter what kind of scum he was? Dom was her ticket out of her mutant body. If she killed him, then she'd remain in this shape forever! Her mind reeled with the problem. If she didn't kill Dom, then Tony would find some other way to kill him. Perhaps her as well. But if she did kill Dom, she would never again taste an icecream. Never again go to a movie and feel a boy's arm around her shoulder. She toyed with telling Tony why she stayed under Dom's control, but chose not to. Could she really trust somebody who was betraying his boss the way Tony was doing? Better to stay with the evil she knew than to go off with another unknown one. There had to be some way to prevent Dom's death. There just had to be! Cheyanne reluctantly nodded agreement while her brain struggled with a way out of the predicament. She told Tony that she would kill Dom just as soon as he returned from his vacation. Tony was pleased, and told her that she would always be welcome in his organization, no matter what. He said that he would find some place for her. Yeah, right! she thought icily. As what, a pet? Not a chance! All of which brought Cheyanne to where she was right now. Crouching on the roof above Dom's favorite restaurant. He always came here on Monday nights. And even if he did just get off of his private jet, he would come here tonight. He would come here to meet his mistress, she noted. He never missed their meetings. She began to wonder if love had ever made her as reckless and predictable, when Dom's stretch limo turned around the corner. She noticed the long black limosine coming into sight, and sat back on her haunches. For good or for bad, it was showtime. Dom got out of his car, trying to keep his expensive italian shoes from getting wet. He was wearing a white suit, and a red bowtie. She picked up a slingshot with her left paw. It had taken her some time to learn how to use her paws as hands, but she could now do almost anything any other human could do. With her right paw, she flipped open a zippo lighter. Dom waved to somebody off in the distance, and got out of the way so the doorman could close the car door behind him. Running the striker against the rough of her other paw, she lit the zippo. She then lowered the flame carefully and slowly until she reached the long fuse of the firecrackers sitting beside her. The fuse sputtered and hissed as the flame touched it. She snapped the lighter shut, then picked up the fireworks. Dom began to walk towards the entrance, walking confidently on the red carpet leading to the doorway. Cheyanne placed the burning explosives into the pouch of her slingshot, and pulled back on the rubber band. She pointed into the darkness behind Dom's limo, and let the fireworks go. She watched as the sparking fuse flew silently through the night. Right behind Dom's car. The fireworks began to go off noisily. Dom and all the guards jumped at the sudden and unexpected racket. Instantly, the guards had their guns out and formed a wide circle around Dom, shielding him from any harm. Dom for his part just stood against the door of the restaurant, too surprised to even go inside. Perfect! Cheyanne leaped forward over the edge, and the bungee cord tied to her rear feet stopped her from falling more than a few feet. She tucked her front paws under Dom's shoulders. He never made a sound as the bungee cord lifted him and her upwards again into the dark. She extended her wings and flapped twice. Her massive wings were inaudible over the racket of the firecrackers, and nobody was facing her direction anyway. All the guards were looking outwards, searching frantically for attackers. In an instant, she had flown with Dom the extra few feet needed to return to the rooftop. She had him! Cheyanne laid Dom down on the roof, and quickly put a paw over his mouth to keep him from screaming out in fright. The last thing she needed now was for him to panic and call for his guards. They weren't out of the woods yet! The fireworks slowed, then stopped altogether. One of the guards turned, and saw that Dom was not behind them anymore. Deciding that he had gone inside the restaurant to take cover, the guards all began running towards the limo (and it's frightened driver) to find what had caused all the commotion in the first place. Nobody missed Dom at all. Cheyanne let out a whew of relief, then craned her neck over to look at her captive. Dom appeared surprised, but not alarmed. Well, that was good news at least. She saw that he was trying to talk, tugging on her paw with both hands. She took the paw away slowly, ready to move in an instant if he made the slightest noise. He gasped for breath, but didn't make any other sound. "So." He breathlessly said to her. "You playin' games t'nite Cheyanne? You havin' a bit o fun at my expense?" Dom stood up, and testily brushed away at his white pants. "Holy Madre. Do you know what this suit costs to clean? Listen Cheyanne, you'd better have a good reason for pulling this stunt on the ol' anvil here." She nodded quickly to him. "Yes Dom, I do. I was sent here to kill you." Even in the darkness, she could see him turn as white as the suit he was complaining about. "k Kill me?" he sputtered, shocked at the idea. "Whats goin on Cheyanne? You gone nuts on me or somethin'?" Cheyanne turned her attention to her back legs, and began to untie the bungee cord that still hung from them. She replied to him without looking at him. "Whether I'm nuts or not Dom, somebody wants you dead. Very dead." Dom had gotten over the surprise, and crossed his arms over his chest. "So who sent you after me, hah? It had to be one of my associates. Not too many people in da family even know about you." She shook her wooly head as the knot came off her legs. "No Dom. It isn't one of your associates. Most of them are already dead." Dom stood in place, and glared at her. "Did you..." he began. She turned to face him again, and stood a couple of feet away. "No, I didn't kill them. Tony "The Hammer" did. He wants your chair in the syndicate Dom, and he wants it bad." Dom wrinkled his forehead angrily as he stared hard into her giant yellow eyes. "You gotta be kidding! That milktoothed little punk, walk in my shoes? Yeah, right. He doesn't even have the first hair on his chest yet. He don't know nothin about running no syndicate! Got no stomach for it." "He had stomach enough to murder your associates." She replied, sitting on her haunches once more. Her head was now a little above his. Dom considered that for a couple of seconds, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he walked toward her. "Hmm. Maybe." He grudgingly admitted. "Maybe da anvil here underestimated da little skunk. Maybe you need t' go bite his head off Cheyanne..." "Forget it." "Consider it an order." Cheyanne smiled. "Oh! Well, since you put it that way... the answer's still no." Suddenly Dom swung at her, slapping her on the side of the muzzle. It really stung. She felt her hackles rise angrily as she stared at the red-faced little mobster. "Who da hell do ya think you are?" Dom yelled at her. "You answer to me, ya freak! When I says to kill, you kill!" She bared her teeth a bit at him as she glared at the short fat- cheeked mobster. If he wasn't trying to make me human again, she thought, he'd be dead on the spot! "Yes, I kill when you say to kill." she crossly replied "But I also protect you Dom. And right now you are in great danger. So I've come up with a plan to pull your bacon out of the fire." Dom grabbed her whiskers, and pulled on them. Hard! Cheyanne winced with the pain and automatically lowered her head to follow his fist. He pulled her head down to his level, and stared straight into one of her large yellow eyes. "Okay then bitch." he fumed. "Talk. Tell me how ya gonna save my keister." "I've told you I don't like to be called that." She grumbled, observing how easy it could be to simply turn her head and bite his hand off. Dom was really mad now. "Listen here you little monster!" he said, jerking mercilessly on her whiskers. "I saved your mutant ass! I coulda let you rot in that warehouse, but I set you up in a palace fit for a king. So I own you! And I'll call you anything I wanna call you, got it?" Dom punctuated his speech with a final yank. She was getting pretty mad at him now, but held onto her temper well enough to nod obediently to him. It helped some. Dom calmed down a bit, and stopped pulling on her. "'Kay then. Tell me what you got in mind Cheyanne. You say you gotta plan, so let's hear it." He let go of her, and stood a step back. Cheyanne sat up straighter, and gently rubbed the side of her muzzle with one paw. She forced herself not to growl at him. "What I have in mind is you and I flying off for a bigger city Dom. Let Tony have this one. For now, that is. Between the two of us, we can take over a bigger place. Maybe New York. We will set up an even better syndicate over there." "Then, a couple of years from now, we can just waltz back in here and take over again. You can take Tony out of the picture in a suitably public manner, and make it clear that you and only you are in charge. You'll get two syndicates under your control, not just one. And everybody gets out of it alive." Dom nodded, understanding exactly what Cheyanne was saying. "Including Tony. You mean I have to wait a couple a years to kill him." Cheyanne nodded. "It will give you plenty of time to invent some spectacular way of dealing with him Dom." "I'll tell you how I'm gonna deal with that punk!" he yelled out loud again. She began to worry about the guards hearing him and charging up onto the roof. "I'm gonna kill the SOB! Tonight! That's how you deal with little twobit operators that stab you in the back. You waste em!" "Please keep your voice down Dom." she softly said, putting her paw down. "I worked very hard to keep you alive. If Tony learns I didn't kill you, then he will find some other way of getting rid of you. And he won't offer you a better alternative like I am doing now." "I don't care what you done, you freak!" he angrily howled, hopping up and down like a child. "This here's my mob! Not Tony's, not yours, mine! And I'm not gonna run off with my tail tween my legs just because some rat thinks he can rub me out!" Cheyanne put her right paw out and held Dom's shoulder with it, trying to calm him down some. "Dom, please!" she cried. "I need you. I saved your butt here tonight so you can save mine later. You said you were going to get me the cure for my mutation, remember? Well, you can't do that for me if you're dead, now can you?" Dom stopped jumping and just stared, amazed, into her massive yellow eyes. He looked deep inside them, as if he could see into her soul through them. Then he began to chuckle. To laugh out loud. "Oh Mama mia! Can you be that dense Cheyanne? Ha! Son of a gun, you can! I don't believe it." Cheyanne kept her hand on his shoulder as he laughed heartily. "What are you talking about Dom?" she asked seriously. "There ain't no cure!" he guffawed. "There ain't never gonna be no cure for you!" Cheyanne froze. Her breath stopped in her throat. Dom's news made her blood run ice cold. No, she thought. It couldn't be true. "No cure?" she slowly said. Her lips began to tremble. "I don't believe you." "I don't care if you believe me or not!" he said, beginning to slow down from his laughing spell. "There ain't no cure for what they did to you. They were working on one, working on it for a long time, but they couldn't figure out what went wrong. So they started to ship you over to a better facility out on the west coast in order to straighten you out again." He grinned wickedly at her. "Only you never arrived, did you? The eggheads were poking you with needles and what not, tryin' to reverse the experiment! They needed some stuff that only existed in California, so they were sending you there for your fixup when you broke out. So now there is no cure, all because you ran away before they could make one up. Pretty pathetic, huh?" Cheyanne began shaking her head. Slowly at first, then more forcefully. She had no idea what to believe anymore. All her dreams were crumbling around her. She didn't want to believe that she was trapped in this body forever. She couldn't accept the idea that she might have been cured if she had only stuck around GeneFrac for awhile longer. And now, now she could never return to normal. Never! "I can't believe this." she mumbled, turning away from him to hide the tears that began to flow from her eyes and run along her golden muzzle. "I won't believe it Dom. I won't." Dom shrugged his shoulders, ignoring her paw that was still there. "Okay then. You don't believe me? Well, believe this Cheyanne. Even if there was a cure, I wouldn't give it to you." She turned her huge maned head toward him once more, and stared down hard on the little man. "Why not?" she lowly growled, blinking her tears away. He grinned up at her. "Hey babe, just think about it. Why would I want you to become human again? You're worth a lot to me, just the way you are right now. You can do things that no ninja ever could. You're worth your weight in gold, and I'll be damned before I let you change back into a worthless little teenaged brat again." Cheyanne was furious now. Her wings were beginning to shake, she was so angry. Her brow furrowed so hard that it hurt. "So." she said, making every effort to keep her voice even. "You lied to me. You got me to kill and steal for you, and all this time you never once planned to live up to your promise to help me. Is that it?" He patted her paw on his shoulder. "That's about it, yeah. But hey, don't take it so hard girl. You and me, we're still okay. You and me, we run this city. And after you kill one last person Cheyanne, you and me can go back to business as usual. You can go back to your comfy life up there in the penthouse, and all will be forgiven." She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. Forgiven? she thought angrily to herself. The little mobster forgives me? After all he's made me do? "Yeah Dom." she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Back up to that penthouse... all alone, forever. Why didn't you tell me there was no cure? Why did you lead me on for so long? Don't you know how lonely my life has been Dom? Don't you think I miss having somebody love me? Haven't you wondered how I felt up there, all by myself?" Dom laughed out loud again. "Well, why didn't you say so? You feeling urges girl? All you gotta do is say something! I got a cousin who owns a zoo a ways down south. I'm sure we can get you a tiger or somethin for your bedroom amusement." Cheyanne let her breath out slowly through the sides of her muzzle. That was the last straw. She smiled at him, and moved her head closer until their noses were just touching. "Okay Dom." she gently whispered to him. "You are right, just like always. Only one more killing, and I can return to my old life. But I do need some amusement Dom, and I need it tonight. Will you help me with that? Personally, that is?" Dom suddenly looked apalled, and would have stepped back except for her paw on his shoulder. "You gotta be kidding Cheyanne! Me? You and me?" She smiled seductively at him, and nodded once more. "It must be you, or no-one Dom." He sighed, and after a short pause he shrugged and began taking off his bowtie. "Oh, what the hell. I guess I've done sicker things than this in the past." Cheyanne tightened her grip on his shoulder, still smiling down on him. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special Dom." she cooed. "Yeah, well. It's a gift." he proudly replied, tossing his tie down. "So. How does this work? What do you want me to do?" She blew just a thin breath out onto his face, teasingly. "First." she crooned. "I want you to close your eyes." Dom grinned, but did what she told him to do. "Okay then. Now what?" Cheyanne continued to speak to him in her bedroom voice. "Now I want you to pray." He appeared puzzled. "Come again?" he asked. She swiftly took her paw off his shoulder, unsheathed her sharp claws, and dug them deep into his throat. There was surprising little blood as they punched through his carotid arteries. She pushed down hard, forcing his knees to buckle under him and topple him backwards until his head smashed into the surface. Cheyanne moved forward and placed all her weight onto that leg, crushing his neck. Dom's eyes were wide open and wild with fear as he struggled for air to scream with. Cheyanne denied him that air, and the blood flowing to his brain as well while she stared savagely down on him. "Freak, am I?" she growled at the struggling little creature beneath her. "You dare to call me a monster? At least I keep my word, you lying little weasel. And that's more than you can say." "But I will do as you asked Dom. I will kill one last time, and then I will find some way of getting back to my old life again. Just a few changes though. The person I'm going to kill is you, not Tony. And the life I'll return to won't be up in your cursed penthouse either." Dom's face was turning white. The little man was horrified. He tried to shake his head while he pushed on her arm with all his might, trying to break free. He may as well have been pushing on the Rock of Gibraltar for all the good it did him. Cheyanne smiled evilly, and leaned closer to him so he could hear her better. "And believe me Dom, this is very amusing. You should see how your eyes bulge out when you are really scared. You can keep your tiger, you nasty little man. I don't like cats anyway. All I want to do is watch your face while you die, you pitiful worm!" Dom's lips turned blue, and his beating fists became weaker. Cheyanne dropped her smile, and bared her teeth at him. She wanted her fangs to be the last thing he saw! "I trusted you Dom. God skin me alive and feed me to the dogs for doing so, but I trusted you to help me become human again. But you tricked me into doing all your dirty work for you, didn't you? Well, fine. Consider this my resignation. I'll return home, look up my old boyfriend, and see if he can find some way of helping me. He is very clever you know. I'll ask him to contact GeneFrac and find out how to reverse what they did to me. Since you won't help me, I guess I will have to help myself." "Thanks for nothing, you scumbag!" she snapped at him. "And I hope you like warm places Dom. Because it is very hot where I'm sending you. Damned hot, in fact!" Dom's eyelids fluttered a bit. Cheyanne didn't let up the pressure, and actually pushed down a little harder instead. Her teeth dripped saliva on his face as she angrily crushed the life out of him. She felt something in his neck make a sickening pop. She also felt his heart beat slow, then race wildly for a second or two, then stop altogether. Dom's arms folded and fell to the ground lifelessly. She spit onto his face, but didn't move away. She stood in place with her paw on his neck for a full five more minutes, just to make certain he was truly and totally dead. Only when she was satisfied that Dom would not contaminate the air with his breath any further did she let go of his neck and step back. As her claws came out of his neck, the blood began to spill out onto the tar-covered roof. It was the same color as all the rest of the blood she had spilled, but somehow it seemed different. Smelled different. Unclean. Cheyanne quickly spun about, looked up to the moon, and took wing. She flapped strongly in the evening breeze, and tore into sky with a vengence. She would fly straight to the warehouse, and pick up some supplies for her trip home. Only the bare essentials like food and water. After all, it was a long trip home. And an even longer trip back to becoming normal again, if that was even possible. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got there. Only that she needed help, and the only people she could trust right now were her friends and family. She wanted to become human again, but she couldn't do it alone. She would need everyone's help. She sniffled a bit as she thought to herself. Mom, Dad, your little girl is coming home. And you might want to renew your prescriptions for Valium, because you are definitely going to need them! Cheyanne flew on through the dark, leaving nothing but a trail of tears on the ground below as proof of her passing.