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From: kralk@big-top.com
Newsgroups: alt.devilbunnies
Subject: Re: [STORY] Calliope Music
Followup-To: alt.devilbunnies
Date: 15 Mar 1995 11:47:42 -0700
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[author's note:  this one's a bit longer than usual.  It's also pretty 
rough and unpleasant.  Just a warning.]

> 
>           Robin kissed him on the muzzle.  She crept back to the trailer
> where she lived.  Holding her breath, she padded past the sleeping forms
> of Clarence and Beryl.  Jumping up lightly, she slid under the covers.
> 
>           She also missed Beryl glaring at her back with angry,
> calculating eyes.

        "Somethin' wrong with the chicken, hon?"

        Robin paused, fork raised halfway to mouth.  Honey-sauce dripped
down to the plate from the piece of chicken.  Choking down a fit of panic,
Robin looked up at Beryl's impassive features.  Her expression of bright
eagerness felt as transparent as glass.

        "Nope.  It's great.  I just wanted to get a start on the evenin'
feed, that's all."

        "That's a change, eh, Ber?"  Robin shuddered as Clarence's bony
arm encircled her shoulders.  He winked at his wife.  "Such a busy girl,
all of a sudden.  'Course, it just might have somethin' ta do with a
little bundle a fur, dontcha think?"

         "I swear, Clar, Rob acts like he was a bun in her oven, way she
fusses over him."  Beryl dried the carving knife of with a dishtowel;
Robin could see her terrified eyes reflected on its surface.

         "Ain't good.  He ain't a pet, really."

         "Naw.  All th' food he eats, more like an investment.  Our
investment."

         "Be a shame if he got away.  Real shame.  That'd be *bad*."

         Robin rose from the table on rubbery legs.  Beryl and Clarence
tracked her as she donned her knit cap.  Turning her back on them, she
tugged on her coat with fumbling fingers.  She nearly broke down when the
zipper caught in the lining.

        "I'll be back in a half-hour,"  she announced.

        "We'll be waiting."

*******

        Kralk paced about his cage.  The animals were nervous tonight, not
having been taken out of their cages for a day.  Kipper the Chipmunk
chewed at the bars of his cage with robotic persistence.  Bonga the
Orangutang threw feces down onto the floor.  Fevered eyes, his own
included, searched for some chink of light in the darkened trailer.  Kralk
had to constantly resist the impulse to scream his frustration into the
night.

        A cacaphony of shrieks and whoops erupted when Robin dashed
through into their midst.  Air whistled through her lungs as she tried to
control her excitement.

        "They know,"  she said.  Kralk jumped into her arms as she lifted
up the top of the cage.

        "What?  You mean they know about me?"  Kralk wormed his way into
her jacket; his head poked out comically from the front, about the level
of her navel.

        "That you can talk by yourself.  No.  But I think they figure I'm
going to let you go tonight."

        "Bloody hell."  Kralk licked his lips.  "Circle behind the camp,
then.  That line of trees to the east should give us enough cover..."

        In retrospect, Kralk thought sourly, it was not the best of plans.
The pine trees hid them from prying eyes; the frozen evergreen needles
underfoot did more than enough to broadcast their progress, though.  It
was fortunate ten minutes remained before the terrible twosome came out to
investigate.  Robin reached the site of their provisions cache without
incident.

        Right, Kralk thought while snow flew behind his burrowing paws.
We have vegetables, meat, Robin's wearing two sets of clothes at the
moment.  Seem to have everything--

        "Damn!"

        "What?"  Robin cupped a hand to her mouth.  Kralk spat in
self-disgust.

        "My palmtop.  It's back in the cage.  If those morons find it, my
cover is blown.  As soon as it hits the local rag every devilbunny in Ohio
will be after my arse."

        "I'll go back and--"

        "You'll do no such thing."  Kralk hopped back towards the animal
trailer.  "Get on down the road a couple of miles.  I'll meet you there.
If I do not show, run."

        Robin watched Lawrence disappear behind a snowdrift.  Hefting the
bag, she started off towards the road.  A stitch in her side lessened her
progress.  The sack, laden with goods, got heavier with each step...  Come
on back, Lawrence, I can't do this without you.

        "You've been a bad girl, Robin."  A hand clamped over her mouth,
cutting off her scream of warning.  Picking up her thrashing form,
Clarence dragged her back to the trailer with a brittle grin.

*******

         Kralk fished out his palmtop with the aid of a manure fork.  Of
all the things to forget, he chided himself ruefully.  And it'll be a
devil to drag two miles down a winterbound country road.  He resolved to
bury it in some out of the way place as soon as he was far enough away
from the campsite.  No sense being fanatical about things.

        Hinges protested as Beryl stomped into the trailer.

        The animals went wild.  Kralk dove for shelter underneath the
bottom row of cages.  He hunched in the stinking puddles of urine,
watching the woman's boots kick over piles of cages.  She tore the place
apart; Buddy flapped into the air, crowing triumphantly as he escaped his
prison.  His chorus of "The Good Ship Lollipop" mixed with Beryl's pungent
curses.

         Kralk, unnoticed, wept black tears.  Oh, God.  Robin, please be
safe...

*******

         "Where'd ya let him go?"  Slap.  Robin rocked back, the imprint
of Clarence's palm flaming red on her cheek.  Her blackened eyes were
swollen shut.  With a soft patter, blood spilled from her broken nose onto
the linoleum.   Seven loops of baling wire pining her hands behind her
back cut off all circulation to her numbed fingers.

          She never said a word.

          Enraged, Clarence slammed a knee into her stomach.  Her mouth
grimaced in agony.  Coughing, her lips struggled to form coherent
sounds.  He leaned closer, saying it would all be over if she just talked.
She just had to say what she did with the rabbit.

          "G-g-g"

          "What, hon?"

          "Go tooo."  Spit.  "Hell."  And then she sank her teeth in his
right ear.

          He had to hit her thirty times before he was able to wipe that
damn smirk off her face.  His knuckles were very, very red when he
finished.

*******

          The underside of the trailer was a latticework of rust.  Kralk
desperately searched for some way to enter the trailer.  Above him, angry
voices announced the return of Beryl.  "What'dya mean its gone?"  "Hey,
Clar, you try ta--awww, shit, lookit this mess!"  Kralk traced pipes and
vents, brushing away the ruin to reveal any means of entry.

           An expanse of lighter-colored rust caught his attention.  A
push from his paw sent the square of metal out of its hidden groove.  The
inspection port opened up under Robin's bed.  He cautiously poked his head
into the opening; he had to brush away some sticky strands of junk the
slobs had failed to sweep away.

           Wait.  This was hair.  The world spinned as Kralk's eyes traced
the lock of bloodstained blond hair to Robin's ruined face.  She was so
beautiful, he thought.

*******

       Kralk roared.  Beryl yelled as he launched himself at her throat.
Claws puncturing her larynx, he crawled into her gaping mouth.  Clarence
could do nothing but vomit while Kralk clawed his way down her throat;
Beryl's eyes rolled up in their sockets as a lump passed down her neck,
bulging out until it reached the collarbone.

       Kralk chewed his way through until he reached her kidneys.  Bursting
out of her back, he attacked Clarence.  It was amazing how easy it was to
paralyze a man--all you at to do was sever the tendons at the knees.
Wonderful thing, a medical degree.

       "I promised her I wouldn't harm anyone, anymore."  Clarence crawled
to an illusory safety.  " 'As long as we're friends' she said.  And I was
willing--willing to cease my war.  Willing to live without revenge.  With
her, that was possible.

       "You took her away from me.  You alone have destroyed my humanity
and my freedom.  Now you have taken away the sole reason I had for
continuing to live.

       "I'm going to kill myself, after I leave.  One of your
dear-departed Beryl's knives should do the trick.  But before I do..."

       Kralk hopped up onto the counter.  When he came back down, he had
the carving knife clenched in his jaws.

       "Every had a lobotomy?"  he continued.  Steel blurred through the
air.  "The brain doesn't feel any pain.  No pain sensors.  Unfortunately
for you, all the stuff you have to cut through to get to the brain can
feel pain.

        "You're about to find out how much."

TBC!
(at least, for some of them...)