Alana of 17

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Sixteen-"An Unexpected Distraction"




As things began to heat up, Keri suggested that Alana put a pause on the propaganda campaign for a few days to allow the commotion to quiet down some. The Mattels had begun to post a guard outside the Stockroom door at night to deter any more mischief, but there were plenty of other places to spread their message. Sarah continued to create beautiful and inspiring art even during the hiatus... and Faye and her crew were itching at the chance to display them.

Messages reading "Together as One" and "Fight Back" began to appear throughout The Store, observed by what were largely confounded Kenners. Usually new posters would appear about once a week and always on a different day. Faye and her team had little trouble throwing off the Mattel gestapo, who just considered the presence of more of their kind on the Salesfloor as reinforcements.

Faye was also keeping a close eye on Boyd's activities, especially with the young man having taken up a sudden interest in the artworks being displayed at random. Every one he came across would get removed and taken back to his grandfather, where the two of them would analyze every line and stroke like art critics. More than sneaking about at night, this made Faye very nervous. What exactly were they looking for... and would it lead them back to her?

As time went on, Kenners from nearby aisles began to appear at the secretive meetings, even from across The Dividing Corridor. The movement was even threatening to outgrow the spacial limits the gondola could provide, especially with four massive Mattels to account for. Alana tasked a group of four young men with finding somewhere in the store that could a) accommodate their growing numbers and b) would be as far from the stockroom and under the radar as possible... but their efforts would prove unsuccessful. The Store was a century and a half old, and even with Dan Rasmussen's many updates from before the world changed, it was still a very simple... very old structure. They were lucky the roof hadn't caved in yet.

Seeing how difficult it was to cram everyone into a single space, along with the attention that dozens of people's voices could draw, Keri had another idea. After what would wind up being the final meeting with everyone in attendance, the old widow met with the five girls running the show. It was finally time for Alana's generals to become just that.

"I had an idea tonight," Keri began, "these meetings are getting too big, and they're just going to get bigger. It puts every single one of us at risk. With more and more people sneaking around at night, it's inevitable that someone is going to get caught, or get all of us caught."

Lacey was the first to speak up, agreeing with what Alana's grandmother was saying. "I've been thinking the same thing. We may have a ringer in our aisle with Faye, but the others aren't so lucky."

"Ok, so... what do we do about it? We've come too far to just throw in the towel," Rob interrupted.

"That's not what I'm suggesting at all, Roberta," Keri clarified. "In fact, quite the opposite. We need to reach more, but meeting in a single location isn't going to do that. Faye and her crew are already up to their neck in what they can handle, and are at the most risk, so I won't ask any more of them."

"We can handle anything you want to give us, Mrs. Nelson," countered Faye.

"I appreciate that, Faye... I really do, but the four of you are deep in the belly of the beast. There's no need to put you in any more risk than we already have to. The work you're doing is too important."

Alana finally chimed in when she realized what her grandmother was getting at, "you're saying it's time to branch out, aren't you?"

"W-what do you mean," Sarah asked with a bit of a tremble in her voice.

"What Grandma is saying is that it's time for each of you to take the lead. The gondolas all have spaces beneath them, just like this one, and we should be using that to our advantage... to set up new cells throughout The Store."

"Exactly," Keri exclaimed. "Just look how many have joined since we began... a hundred? Maybe more. Think about how many you girls could reach if you spread out!"

Alana took a step forward from her grandmother's side and looked each of her friends in the eye. "Roberta... Lacey... Sarah... there's no one else I'd trust more to do this. Each of you know the truth and you understand what needs to be done. With your help, we can reach the entire Salesfloor. I know you can do this."

The leader of their growing rebellion looked at Rob first, who nodded in agreement without hesitation... then to Lacey, who closed her eyes and did the same. Sarah on the other hand looked terrified.

"Please, 'Lana... can't I just stay here with you and keep making posters? I... I don't know how to talk to strangers like you can," the little blonde pleaded.

Alana placed a hand on her dear friend's cheek and tried to explain to her how wrong she was. "Oh, Sarah... you think too little of yourself. Through your artwork alone I've seen your ability to inspire people. That's all it takes, just inspire them... tell them the truth. That's all." She pulled Sarah's head close and rested her forehead against the trembling blonde's. "You can do this, Sare-bear. Just believe in yourself as much as I believe in you."

Rob cupped her hand over Lacey's ear and whispered, "sheesh, when do we ever get a pep talk like that?" Lacey grinned, but tried to hide it.

Tears began to stream down Sarah's cheeks as Alana gently kissed her on the forehead. She wasn't as sure of what she was capable of as Alana seemed to be, but was even more concerned about I something else, "does... does this mean I have to stop making drawings, 'Lana?"

"Of course not! Word of mouth will only get us so far. We wouldn't have the following we have now without your efforts, Sarah," Alana assured her, which seemed to calm the sensitive girl down a little.

Alana stepped back to address them as a whole once again, seeing how morose the decision was begining to make the others. "Don't look so sad everyone. It isn't like we're saying goodbye. With the exception of Faye, we all still live in the same Aisle, and she'll be here nightly to make her rounds anyway. We'll still need to meet at least once a week to discuss how things are progressing."

Keri stepped in and added her two cents. "This thing is bigger than all of us now. We aren't just doing this for us, or for our Aisle, or even for The Store. The future itself depends on it. Someday... maybe... you'll all want children of your own. What kind of world do you want them to grow up in? One where they struggle through hunger and oppression, or one where they can be free and happy?"

"Use the skills we've learned... teach others... change the world," Alana concluded.

The five Kenners and their Mattel ally disbanded for the night, the last time they would meet under the circumstances, but still very much one in purpose. As the others headed towards their homes in contemplation, Faye stayed behind to speak with the Alana further.

"Are you sure you don't want me to do the same, Alana?"

"No Faye. Like grandma said, you're doing more than anyone should have to be asked."

"I just feel like...," Faye began before Alana cut her off.

"Don't. You and Donovan, Heidi and Michael... what you're doing is so incredibly brave. It's one thing to stand up for yourself in the face of oppression, but to put yourselves at risk for others... well, I can only hope I'd do the same if our roles were reversed. Keep doing what you're doing, and please be careful."

Alana added jokingly, "besides, what Kenner is going to buy this shit from a Mattel of all people!" The two of them shared an understanding laugh at the reality of it all.

"I know it's been difficult to find anyone else among your people who sympathize with us. From what you and the others tell me, the rest of the Mattels are pretty all-in with this... this... cult or whatever it is. Don't push anything... don't take unnecessary risks. I... I can't lose you Faye."

"I know, I know... the work I'm doing is too important." Faye brushed off what she kept hearing over and over. Then she felt Alana's tiny hand resting on the top of her own.

"Faye... I can't lose you... because you're my friend."

This single moment stretched out for what felt like eons. The charge passing between their hands was felt by both women. The hair began to stand up on their arms and neck. Chills and tingles made their way up and down their spines. In that infinite moment, Alana and Faye realized that they were more than partners in crime, and perhaps more than new friends as well. Each got lost in the other's eyes as the desire for one to take the other grew stronger with each endlessly passing nanosecond.

Faye was the first to lean forward, ready to give in to her desires... which caused Alana to snap out of her trance. The little Kenner pulled her hand away and awkwardly stood up, taking a step back in the process.

"Oh... um... uh... I'm sorry... we really should be... uh... sleep! Yes... sleep. It's late and we both need to get some sleep. Big things... lots of work to be done... we need our rest," Alana rambled nervously as she continued backing away towards the exit. She felt flushed and ran her fingers through her hair nervously, until she disappeared from beneath the browser.

Faye wasn't sure what she'd done wrong, but that didn't stop her from kicking herself for whatever it was. She obviously felt hurt and rejected; did she misread the moment? She hoped to god she hadn't just fucked everything up between the two of them. When she finally snapped out of her spinning thoughts, the towering and beautiful Mattel chased after Alana on her hands and knees until reaching the exit as well.

Once back out on the Salesfloor, Faye could barely make out Alana's form in the darkness as the tiny woman retreated from her. Alana's arms were folded across her chest and her head was down, shaking back and forth. She was mumbling something to herself as well.

"Alana?" Faye whispered, hoping Alana could hear her without drawing unwanted attention.

Alana stopped dead in her tracks and looked back to Faye from over her shoulder.

"Thank you. Thank you for believing in me, Alana... and for trusting in me. And... and thank you for caring so much," Faye began, but didn't quite know how to finish. She thought about continuing to chase the tiny woman she had become so infatuated with down, sweeping her off her feet... before instead turning around and heading back towards the Stockroom. She hunched over shamefully, holding her shoulders and fighting the urge to cry.

The sound of her own bare feet slapping at the tile hid the sound of the smaller ones approaching from behind her, until she was surprised by the gentle touch of a tiny hand on her leg. The unexpected caress made the the amazon of a woman jump a little with surprise. When she looked down to find Alana with tears pouring down her cheeks and a loving grin on her face, Faye felt her heart skip another beat.

"Faye... I..."

Alana had drawn a small army and was used to speaking to dozens. She was the de facto leader of a growing revolution. She had the ability to see into people's hearts and inspire them...

... but for the first time, she couldn't find the words to express what she was feeling.

She wouldn't need to.

Faye immediately dropped to her knees. She bent over and wrapped her arms around Alana, lifting the little woman up and against her breast. Neither woman could keep from trembling as their soft lips locked in a passionate kiss. The initially strange feeling of Faye's enormous lips, and likewise with with delicate smallness of Alana's against hers, faded away. Their lips were always meant to be together. The two felt like they could melt into one another and the rest of the world could simply burn away.

Alana pulled away momentarily, holding Faye's head in her arms. Her small eyes darted back and forth between both of Faye's big baby blues.

The trembling little Kenner finally knew what she wanted to say. "No Faye... thank you for believing in me."

Once again their lips met.

The beautiful Mattel with the long dishwater blonde hair made love to that red headed Kenner rebel right there on the Salesfloor under the cover of darkness, with households of Kenners sleeping in their beds just a stone's throw away. One girl would build towards an overwhelming climax, while the other would have to cover their mouth to quiet the escaping moans of pleasure... something much easier for Faye to do than tiny Alana. One would tease the other until they were about to erupt in a boisterous howl, then both would collapse in stifled laughter.

Their lovemaking continued through the night until neither had the energy left for more. The new day would greet the two lovers, with Faye lying on her back as she held Alana against her chest... the two of them panting heavily and drenched in sweat. For the briefest of moments, nothing else mattered in the world but one to the other.

"It'll be dawn soon," Alana whispered.

"I know," Faye replied, "but can't I hope the sun never comes up again? Then we can just lay here forever like this."

Alana rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin on the backs of her hands. She stared into the shimmering orbs of Faye's eyes and smiled. "If we pull this off, I mean... if we really can change things... it won't matter anymore. We won't have to hide this... us."

"Even your pillow talk is about revolution," Faye snarked.

"Don't make fun," Alana mock-scolded, gently slapping one of Faye's bare breasts in the process, "I'm being serious here. I can't wait to walk hand in hand in broad daylight with my favorite Mattel."

"That sounds nice," Faye began, "but I don't think Constable Hartman is that into you." This time Alana flicked her gigantic lover on the tip of the nose and laughed back.

"We should get back though," the smaller of the two admitted, "I don't want to get you into trouble with Boyd."

"I can handle Boyd," Faye replied. "But yeah... I suppose you're right. I'll be thinking about you when I fall asleep."

"Me too," Alana confessed, "me too."

The two star-crossed women kissed once more... then reluctantly parted ways. Alana to the rotting Uncle Ben's case that was her family home... and Faye to the militia-esque bunks of the stockroom.

Alana snuck back into the house as stealthily as if she were out hunting. Morning was approaching and she didn't want to wake her parents or grandmother. She fell into bed feeling completely, but refreshingly spent. She squeezed the old sugar packet that she normally used as a pillow with her entire body, in place of the titanic girl she wished was there with her. She felt safe, relaxed, and happy for the first time in her life. Sleep came quick and easy, accompanied by sweet dreams of Faye of 1.

Faye too fell into bed with a head filled full of warm thoughts. The sudden appearance of Boyd, wanting his morning quickie before heading off to torment someone smaller than he, threatened to sour everything special she'd just experienced.

"How'd it go tonight, babe? You're sure getting back late... or early... whatever," he inquired as the snake slithered into bed with her.

Faye turned on her side, allowing him easy access to the only orifice she'd allow him entrance. Somehow the discomfort and pain of anal sex made it easier to endure the slimeball than having to take it from him face to face.

"I thought I should stay out later in case one of those little Kenner bastards tried to put anymore of that awful nonsense up on the walls somewhere. I waited and waited but nothing happened. I'm really tired, Boyd. Can we maybe skip the-"

"Well let your Boydie-Woydie take care of his Fayebie-waybie then," he interrupted her attempt to get out of what was sure to be a rip-roaring five minutes of coitus. As if she were just some fuck toy to be used and played with, Boyd thrust himself inside of her.

The thought that the son of a bitch thought he was doing this FOR her was both laughable and infuriating at the same time. Instead of fighting with him, Faye just swallowed her medicine. "Thank you, Boyd... I... I'd like that."

The girl had gotten so good at lying she almost surprised herself.

The sex was as quick as it ever was, with Boyd only concerned with his own pleasure, as per usual. But now... now there was something new and wonderful Faye could distract herself with. She had comforting thoughts of that tiny redhead in Aisle 17 to get her through the wretched task of suffering through Boyd's affections.

The young captain slobbered a kiss against her cheeks, then cleaned his disgusting manhood on her sheets like clockwork. Again... as per usual, Boyd had no desire to hang around after getting what he wanted, not that Faye would have wanted him to anyway. He stepped back into his ragged Ken doll trousers and began to leave, but suddenly stopped.

"There's gonna be a storewide meeting before sunset, babe. Everyone is expected to attend, so make sure to get some sleep."

"Fuck," Faye whispered to herself, knowing damn well whatever it was about wasn't going to be good, "now what?"


So much for pleasant dreams.




End Chapter Sixteen

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Seventeen-"The New Romans"




The Mattel enforcers patrolling each aisle made sure word spread fast that morning concerning the 'announcement' coming at sunset. The Salesfloorers speculated about the reason for the mass congregation, but with the exception of Constable Hartman, Boyd, and Tony... not even the rest of the Mattels knew what it was all about. Boyd didn't even tell Faye... a sign, she worried, that his trust in her was fading. There hadn't been a storewide meeting like this since Dan Rasmussen was in charge, and with the troubling way things were headed, people were understandably worried.

The day dragged on as days tend to do with anticipation, be it good or bad. When the time came, Hasbros and Kenners began to file towards the front window. There, right on top of the graves of the dead in the barren field, the Mattels had erected a platform. It was nothing fancy, just a pair of scrap two by fours about a couple of feet long each.

The dried up remains of plants lay scattered about from a time before the nutrients hadn't been sucked dry from the soil and food could still be grown. All the ghostly remains of the failed farming project served for anymore was a cemetery, and even then, it had filled to capacity long ago.

On top of the newly erected platform there were a pair of popsicle sticks, still stained blue from the dyes within the sugary treat that few in attendance had ever been privileged to taste. The flat, rounded off planks were held together with electrical tape to form a crucifix. The generations that had been born within The Store had no understanding of the meaning of the structure, as history had been denied to them. The older ones though... they were deeply, deeply troubled by its appearance.

"Is this everyone?" Boyd called out to the gathered masses.

Constable Hartman, conspicuously, was nowhere to be seen.

The Mattel army had lined up along the base of the window in formation, facing the crowd in neat rows. Faye and the other spies were lined up with them, trying to maintain their cover. They too were nervous about what Boyd had planned.

The Kenners took up the most space, with the reclusive Hasbros opting to stay together close to the front doors. No integration, as per usual. The only Mattels standing atop the platform were Boyd and Tony, both looking especially pleased with themselves.

Alana and her crew opted to attend with their families, but remained within eyeshot of one another. Like the dutiful granddaughter she was, Alana aided Keri to the ominous event, easily the furthest the aging woman had traveled from home in a very long time. The teenager wasn't sure what the cross meant, but the look in Keri's eyes at the sight of it sent chills through Alana's spine. What was she so afraid of?

"If this is everyone," Boyd began, "then hear this...


"...we have a traitor in our midst."


Alana instantly felt her stomach drop. "Oh my god... how could he know?! We've been so careful," she whispered to Keri.

"Ssshhh... keep your head, child," Keri whispered back.

Boyd continued, "... a burglar! That's how theft from the Mattels will be treated from here forth... as treason. Since mere exile doesn't seem to carry the same weight with you people as it used to, an example needs to be made."

Alana breathed a sigh of relief. Even though she and her followers were most certainly treasonous, they hadn't stolen anything from the Mattels. This in itself raised questions of its own... how COULD anyone steal from the Mattels?! The Stockroom door was impenetrable. Was Boyd talking about some kind of tax evasion? If so, every single person on the Salesfloor was guilty of it.

"Tony, will you bring the accused forward? Let his peers gaze upon him one last time," Boyd prompted his partner, who reached behind the stand and raised a male Kenner above his head with a single hand. The bound and gagged man's name was Randall and he hailed from Aisle 6.

Randall was no one really. He had a wife and a child... a little girl named Erin. Alana didn't know the man herself, but she would later learn from his neighbors (who would soon join the revolution) that Randall was an honest, hardworking man. He was in charge of the IU... the Invertebrate Unit, those tasked with the eradication of insect infestation and collection... good sources of protein were scarce after all. Those who knew Randall were all in agreement of one thing... that the man would never steal from anyone, let alone the Mattels... whom he feared deeply.

Black electrical tape wrapped around Randall's head, covering most of his face and neck, his eyes just barely visible above the edge of the stretched adhesive... his fear-struck, tearful eyes. The man was visibly shaking while Boyd and Tony ripped the tape from his bound hands. Each then took one of his arms, stretched them out, and adhered them to the crucifix. Tony finished off by wrapping more tape around Randall's feet, rendering the poor man completely immobile.

Watching the frightening scene unfold, Keri could no longer hold back, "what is this?! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"This is your only warning, you old hag," Boyd replied, "another outburst like that and you'll find yourself up here yourself. Ya dig?"

"Grandma, please don't piss him off," Alana begged. "I don't know what the fuck this is, but we can't lose you over it."

Keri bit her tongue. Tears began to well in her eyes as she watched poor Randall's torture and humiliated. His kicking and screaming family attempted to charge the stage, but were snatched up into the arms of Mattel soldiers. Randall's straining eyes never left his wife's. The sun was beginning to set, which cast a long shadow of the strange cross over the crowd and darkened Randall's shape in silhouette.

"As I was saying, before being so rudely interrupted," Boyd resumed his grandstanding, "an example has to be made... and this Kenner has been condemned to death for his crimes."

A gasp roared through the crowd.

"Tony... the means of execution, please...," Boyd opened his hand and grinned. His meager attempts to hide just how much he was enjoying himself with formality were failing him more and more with every second.

From behind the cross, Tony retrieved a dark, cylindrical shaped object with a short length of what appeared to be string protruding from one end. The image of a black cat repeated itself across its surface.

"Noooooooo!" Could be heard screaming from many of the older citizens at once, including Keri.

"Don't!"

"You can't!"

Alana's eyes grew wide and her stomach turned even more. She made eye contact with her friends scattered close by in the crowd, all of whom shared her same look of worry. They could feel it in the air... something truly awful.

Some of the elderly began to push their way towards the back of the crowd to escape what was coming... something that didn't sit well with Boyd at all. "No one leaves! Anyone fucking tries and they get tied to a fucking cross!"

The mouths that didn't hang agape were covered by trembling, fearful hands. Other than the founding generation, most didn't know what that black cylinder was, but one terrible thing was certain... they were about to witness outright murder.

Randall's muffled pleas cut through the crowd like a knife. Even his wife's desperate screaming couldn't drown them out. Tony took the honor of placing the cylinder against Randall's chest and then wrapped it tight around the little man with more electrical tape. The string on the mysterious object now dangled between the condemned's quivering legs. The flash and odor of sulfur, the striking of a match pulled everyone's attention back to Boyd. The would-be hangman held the flaming stick like a torch and waved it teasingly in front of Randall's face.

"Randall of 6... The Store finds you guilty of thievery and treason. It has been determined by the Mattel elders that your sentence shall be death." Had Randall actually received a fair trial, or any trial at all for that matter, this would have been the part where he was asked how he pleads. Boyd had no interest in such things, he just lowered the burning match slowly to maximize tension and dramatic effect.

"Please stop! Don't do This! Someone stop him!" Keri cried out in desperation. No one moved. Just as the flames were about to kiss the wick of the firecracker, she called out again, "everyone! Get down! Cover your ears!"

Boyd lit the fuse and dove off the side of the platform.





Bang.





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Returning to Boyd's previous meeting with his grandfather...




"What is this?" Boyd asked Conrad regarding the strange cylinder he clutched in his grasp. It didn't look particularly special, but it smelled strange... like the smell that accompanies a struck match.

"It's a weapon, my dear boy. A weapon the likes of which most of The Store have never seen. A weapon that will ensure Mattel dominance for decades to come. When they see its power, no one will think about crossing us again. Including this little uprising," Conrad explained, pointing to the Sarah's poster.

"How does it work?" Boyd queried, looking over the firecracker like a freshly forged sword.

"Simply light this fuse and get out of the way as quickly as possible. It packs quite a punch... if you're too close, it could kill you as well. Be sure to cover your ears, Boyd. I can't stress enough how loud and dangerous this little guy is."

"Kill, huh?" Boyd mused. "Ok. Who would you like me to kill, grandfather? A member of Keri Nelson's family perhaps?"

"No... well, not yet anyway. I want that bitch to suffer a lot more before I'm ready to kill her... and I plan on doing that myself," the old man insisted. "I don't care who you kill, frame someone for all I care... just be sure to make a show of it. That's what's important here... the spectacle! I want everyone in The Store to know what we Mattels are capable of."

"Sure... ok. What did you have in mind?" Boyd asked with his trademark smirk.

Conrad's own smirk, clearly handed down along with his scheming nature, almost mirrored his grandson's, "Oh... I have a few ideas..."

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It was over just as soon as it had begun... the blast. Two entire generations having never experienced an explosion before, or even possessing any frame of reference for what one was, were left stunned in shock. Those closest to the platform were blown backward, many of whom were left permanently deaf. Once the onlookers could clear their heads of the daze caused by the shell shock, they looked back to the stage. When they saw what was left of Randall from 6... the real shit hit the fan.

The cross had snapped from the blast and was resting crooked and propped against the moldy wall. There... still taped to the blue-stained crucifix, were Randall's limbs... and little else. The rest of him was splattered against the wall... or across the frightened people near the stage trying to cope with their newfound loss of hearing.

The cross had new smatterings of red and black to add to the faint blue.

Screams erupted from every corner of the crowd of thousands gathered. Like a wave, the motion of people trying to flee created an overwhelming force in itself, and several more Kenners lost their lives getting trampled in the human crush.

Boyd peeked his head over the edge of the platform to admire his handiwork, and admire it he did. The sight of the lowly Kenner blown to bits and chunks excited the creep in ways he never knew possible. The chaos erupting all around him was the furthest thing from his mind... like no one else was even there. All he could think about was how much he couldn't wait to blow up another helpless Kenner. Or perhaps a Hasbro next time... what kind of exciting mess would that make?

Alana reacted on pure instinct. She didn't even realize she was dragging Keri and her mother by their arms through the maze of people until she'd reached relative safety, screaming the entire way. Bennett wasn't far behind, dragging others along himself. It took the other girls and their families significantly longer to escape, but all managed to make it out with only minor scrapes and bruises. Alana wouldn't let go of her mother and grandmother until reaching the confines of their humble hovel.

As the Nelson family stared at each other in complete shock, none could even speak... or especially wanted to. Was this it? Did that tremendous blast signal the end of their rebellion? If the Mattels had weapons capable of mass destruction, how could Alana's piddly army even hope to stand a fighting chance against them.

Hope.

Once again, it was in short supply.

Alana laid in bed sleeplessly that night, unable to shake what she'd seen. Did she actually see it happen? Did she really just watch that poor man disintegrate before her? The horrific scene kept replaying in her mind on a relentless loop, and with each repetition the tears would begin to flow again.

Alana didn't have it in her to hold a meeting that night, nor did she think anyone else would want to after the evening's events. She worried that everyone else's will to carry on would have been crushed, just as hers nearly had. It didn't stop her friends from appearing at her window though, and Faye was waiting out front.

Their faces, they all looked shell shocked and broken... especially Faye, who felt the extra burden of guilt for her association with Boyd. Alana took her enormous hand in her own to try and comfort the giantess she was beginning to feel so deeply for, but any relieving words were lost on her.

"Lana? W-What are we gonna do?" Asked Sarah.

Rob cut in, "yeah, I don't care how many toothpicks and plastic spoons we sharpen, if the Mattels have something that can do what we just saw... there gonna kill us all!"

"They're gonna win... and there's nothing we can do about it," Lacey joined in on the general consensus of giving up. "We don't stand a chance."

In that instant... it was as if a fog lifted from Alana's mind. Like the switch of despair had been flipped off and replaced by clarity... and even elation. The answer was so simple! Well, not simple exactly... it would prove to be the first real test of their growing rebellion, but it could work... it had to work.

"Oh my god... I know how to beat them," Alana gasped, like she was astounded by her very own words. She even began to laugh a little at the madness of her thoughts.

"Shit, Lana... I've been told I have no tact, but how can YOU of all people laugh at a time like this?" Rob snarked.

Alana looked up into Faye's sad eyes and squeezed her giant hand in both of hers. "Faye... I know I ask a lot of you, and if you say no I'll understand. But if we pull this off, we're going to defeat the Mattels."

"Anything," Faye whispered, "I'd do anything for you, Alana."

It was clear the mismatched pair desperately wanted to kiss one another, and the others girls stared at the two of them in disbelief.

"When did this happen?" Rob whispered to the others.

"Ssshhh... don't be an asshole, Rob," Lacey whispered back.

Sarah just hung her head and tried to change the subject, "well... what is it? What are we gonna do, 'Lana?"

Alana peeled her eyes away from Faye's and placed both of her hands on Sarah's cheeks. Her eyes were full fire and purpose. Sarah had hung on Alana's every word for a very long time, but there in their leader's eyes... for the first time... she could see that Alana knew they could take down the giants.

Alana continued to stare intensely at Sarah, while asking all everyone else, "what if they didn't have those weapons?"

"What if we did?"


"What if we stole them?"




End Chapter Seventeen

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Eighteen-"The Plan"




The plan was simple enough, the execution... less so.

The Mattel spies would find where the fireworks were being secreted, then in the middle of the night, the Kenners would sneak into the stockroom and steal them. Being as Alana had no idea how many explosives the Mattels had in their possession, she made sure that each and every member of her little army were ready for the operation. Even though they were indeed much smaller than the Mattels and capable of moving relatively undetected, stealthiness was still paramount. They'd have to learn to be just as patient and quiet as a stalking hunter... something with which Alana had plenty of experience..

Once the merchandise was located and removed it would have to be split up, stashed and well hidden beneath the gondolas. The more the fireworks were spread out, the less chance there was of the Mattels recovering the stockpile should things go sour. If and when a war did break out, multiple placements would also allow for a strategic advantage.

The success of the operation still rested on Faye's shoulders. This was far more dangerous than just eavesdropping and suffering Boyd's insatiable cock. If she got caught... hell, if they even suspected her of betraying The Mattels... it would be all over for her. And not just for her, but for the entire movement. There's only so much torture anyone can endure before they cave. But... as Faye has promised, she'd do anything for Alana... and she was pretty sure she was in love with the little ginger Kenner as well.

The days turned into weeks as Faye continued to secretly watch Boyd; where he'd go, who he was talking to, etc. Working the night shift, plus having to observe the goings on in the Stockroom during the day was robbing her of much needed sleep. The luggage under her eyes was enough to tell Alana how stressed out the poor woman was. She wanted so desperately to tell Faye to quit, that they'd find another way. But as a leader, Alana knew she couldn't let her own personal feelings toward the girl, she too had fallen head over heels for, to get in the way of the objective. It killed her to see Faye suffer, but the work they were doing was so much bigger than the both of them.

After their nightly meetings, Alana would prop herself up against a kick plate beneath the overhang of the browser in the shadows. She'd hold the much larger woman's heavy head in her lap and stroke her hair until Faye fell asleep, if only for an hour or two. Sleeping on the job alone was something that could get Faye into deep shit with the higher ups, let alone if they found her in the arms of a Kenner. It was the only comfort Alana could offer her friend... her blossoming lover... until the job was done.

As for Rob, Lacey, and Sarah...

In the weeks that followed the crucifixion, the three girls threw themselves into their new roles as Alana's generals wholeheartedly. Rob took a small group and set up a cell in Aisle 12, unnervingly close to the Stockroom. Lacey set one up herself in the center of The Store in 5.

Even Sarah, the most timid of the group, felt a new fire lit under her ass. Seeing a man murdered right in front of her... and the horrific way that man was killed... it was like something had switched on inside her. There was no more time for things she now felt were childish, like shyness and naïveté. There was no more time for fear. She trusted Alana implicitly, and if they could secure the fireworks, she knew in her heart they were going to win out. She set up a cell in 10, hoping to lure in the reclusive Hasbros in 19 and 20. She also doubled her output of propaganda, cranking new posters out faster than they could be hung.

As one month dragged into another, Faye began to worry she would never find the hidden arsenal. The Stockroom was a big place, with plenty of places to hide anything you'd want hidden. Her small team of fellow Mattel spies weren't having any luck either. Mentally, Faye beat herself up about it, feeling like she was failing Alana... who obviously thought no such thing. The exhausted twenty year old was growing close to her breaking point, feeling much older than her years.

Then... in the second week of the second month, they found the elusive stockpile.

Donovan, one of the two male spies, almost have shat himself when he saw it. He was helping Boyd and Tony deliver some Welch's fruit snack pouches to the office for Conrad and the elders when he spotted the familiar paper cylinders with the screaming black felines printed on them. They were just barely peeking out from the top of a box hidden below the wall mounted desk, where high above them Conrad Hartman sat on his in-box throne. A black swatch of fabric covered most of the arsenal, and had Donovan been standing a foot one way or the other, he never would have seen them.

It was just what the resistance needed... some good old fashioned dumb luck.

That night, Faye asked Donovan to sneak out of the Stockroom and meet up with her during her shift. She had no intention of taking credit for someone else's accomplishments and wanted Donovan to be able to tell Alana himself. Being as there were no secret meetings that night, Alana rushed to her friend's homes to wake them when she heard the incredible news. They congregated in the usual spot, beneath the gondola separating Aisle 16 from 17, to discuss what happens next.

"Tell us everything, Donovan. Every last detail. Heidi has provided Sarah with enough detail to draw us up a map, but we need to know exactly where the fireworks are hidden, how much we need to expect to move, and we need to know what obstacles lay in wait for us," Alana hastily inquired, trying to keep her excitement under control.

"Right," Donovan replied, "they're in a box, hidden under the desk where Constable Hartman spends most of his time. We,can get you in there, no problem, but it's going to be extremely dark. There are no windows in the Stockroom, so unless there are candles lit, it's going to be pitch black."

The young man began to sketch out the position of the arsenal in the dirt with his fingertip, while Sarah copied it onto her ever more detailed map. "On either side of the chamber are tall metal buildings (actually filing cabinets) where the other Mattel elders sleep. The path inside is pretty much clear, I just can't emphasize enough how dark it's going to be."

"Excellent!" Alana exclaimed. She continued to pour over the diagram, asking Donovan about any more details he could remember. It seemed almost too easy.

Alana thought about how soul-crushingly depressing it must have been growing up inside the Stockroom. No natural light... no personal space... people stacked up like the product that used to fill the overstock shelving. It's no wonder the Mattels were looking to a madman for answers... and even more remarkable that Donovan, Heidi, Michael, and Faye were able to see through Hartman's lies.

Hope can be a very powerful motivator, just take the rebellion for example. Exploiting those in need of it, like Hartman was doing, could prove incredibly dangerous for anyone in the Mattels' way.

"So... when should we do it?" Lacey asked.

Alana didn't want to waste any more time. "Tomorrow night."

There was an audible gasp from her four friends. It had taken so long to get to this point and the mission always felt like something distant. But there it was, staring them in right the face at last.

"Look, I know you're scared, so am I," the little redhead admitted, "but we're ready. We have to set things in motion now. I can't stand the thought of someone else getting tortured and murdered by Boyd."

"You say we're ready... and maybe WE are, but what about the others?" Rob asked, honestly very logically. "They trust us, you know? They trust you, Alana. Please tell me we're not just marching them off to get exiled."

The other girls cocked their heads back in shock. This was oddly the first time anyone had actually challenged one of Alana's decisions.

"I believe in us. And I believe in this cause. Do you really think I don't know what's at stake here, Roberta?! Of course I know everyone is trusting me with their lives. But trust is a two way street. We need to see what they're capable of. I need to know that they're ready for anything."

Rob stood silently, filling the musty air beneath the gondola with an uneasy heaviness.

"Well, Roberta... are you ready to do this?" Alana asked sternly.

Rob remained stoic for a few more agonizing seconds, then a small grin cracked her stone-like demeanor. She flicked Alana on the tip of her nose and laughed out loud. "Let's go get ourselves killed then, boss lady!" She paused for a moment to wag her finger at the now confused leader, "and don't fucking call me Roberta, goddamnit!"

For all the shit that she'd given Sarah over the years, Rob could be quite strange in her own right. The mood lightened greatly after that.

"I can't wait to shove one of those boom sticks up Boyd's ass."

This sort sentiment normally would have spewed from Rob's les than eloquent mouth, but not in this case. It was Sarah who had blurted it out, much to the others' astonishment. The usually reserved young woman wasn't known to use foul language, or ever wished harm to come to anyone. Her friends almost began to laugh until they saw the fire burning in Sarah's eyes. A hatred set ablaze like none of them had ever seen on the girl's face before. One of her eyelids twitched slightly and her upper lip curled in disgust.

She added, "I hope it rips him in half. And I wanna be there when it does."

All of them had been affected and traumatized by being forced to watch a man die, but not like it affected Sarah. The time it had taken to track down Conrad's stockpile had allowed the diminutive blonde to stew in her contempt for Boyd, and she wanted his head just as badly as anyone.

Each of the other girls shot glances at each other, hoping their Sare-bear would say something out of place or goofy like she always would... because this Sarah frightened them. She just sat there, glaring into the darkness, fixating her hate at nothing in particular. Alana didn't say anything just then, but she was worried about her friend.

But for the time being, that would have to wait...

"Alright then. Tomorrow night. We'll wait till everyone can get away and convene underneath the Aisle 1 gondola. Faye, for you its just business as usual, make your rounds. Donovan and the others will get us inside."

"I'd really like to help," Faye offered, feeling a little hurt for not being included in the heist.

"You will be," Alana explained, "if you're seen in the Stockroom and not at your post, it it's just one more thing that can get us caught. We can't raise suspicions. We could end up with Boyd or Tony... or god forbid someone worse working your shift."

Faye relented with a nod. Though she understood why she couldn't, she still wished she could be more involved.

Alana looked over each of the rest of her generals. They were ready... she knew it. The propaganda campaign had been child's play compared to what they were about to undertake. If caught, the Mattels would consider it an all-out act of war. Treason. Their lives would be forfeit, and more importantly, the resistance would whither and fail. The Store would belong to the Mattels forever.

Alana mustered a confident smile while simultaneously trying to push her own self doubt to the back of her mind.

Trust. It's a two way street. She couldn't show them that part of herself that doubted her own ability to lead. Alana had to be confident in herself if she expected her friends to have confidence in her.

"Get some sleep," was Alana's final order for the evening. "I'll see you tomorrow night, ladies... we're gonna steal us some goddamn boom sticks!"




End Chapter Eighteen

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Nineteen-"The Heist"




The Stockroom door opened slowly and silently, revealing the faint, darkened form of Heidi... Faye's friend and fellow Mattel spy. A pretty girl in her own right, as pale and fair skinned as most of the Mattels were, with wild brown hair cut haphazardly. She looked back and forth down the length of Aisle 1 to make sure the coast was clear. When no Mattel centuries were spotted, she motioned the first wave of Alana's loyalists toward the door. Lacey lead the first group of twenty inside the menacingly dark gap that stretched up the wall into the sky above them.

Heidi had asked to switch with the usual guard that night so she could be the one to let the raiding party inside. The scheduelled guard was pleased as punch to have an extra night off, never suspecting anything to be amiss. Heidi had always been the trustworthy sort.

This first wave that entered was the scouting group led by Lacey. Their goal was to locate the fireworks, with Donovan's assistance, and set up what was once called a bucket line. When they had an idea of just how much needed to be moved, Heidi would signal group two, forty eager soldiers led by Rob. Group two would extend the bucket line towards the exit, which is where group three would be activated. This was Sarah's division. Their mission, extend the bucket line from the stockroom door to the stash zone under the Aisle 1 gondola. This was by far the most dangerous group to serve in. Where the rest of The Store was cluttered with homes and generations of built up oversized junk, Aisle 1 was completely free of such things, and therefore... there would be nowhere to hide. Everyone in group three would be the most exposed to potential capture by the Mattel guards on patrol.

Thankfully, Sarah had the brilliant idea to have the people in group three cover their bodies in soot, retrieved from the many brick kilns ovens dotting The Store. This way they'd at least be a little less noticeable in the dark.

The final group were Alana's responsibility. These individuals were charged with dispersing and hiding what they stole throughout The Store as quickly as possible. Alana wanted to lead the first group into the Stockroom herself, but Lacey stepped in. The tall, dark-skinned girl understood exactly how important Alana was, and that she needed to be protected at all costs... for the sake of the rebellion. Among those in the other cells, the leader of the movement was beginning to take on a mythic status, focusing their hopes on a single individual. The idea of Alana had grown much larger than the tiny girl herself.

Donovan wasn't lying when he said they wouldn't be able to see anything once inside the Stockroom. There were some faint flickers of burning candles at the distant end of the elongated room, but not enough to illuminate anything at their end. It didn't matter how prepared anyone thought they were for this heist, once actually engaged in the operation, fear took hold of every last member of group one. The place was completely alien to them, the only Kenners having seen the inside of the stockroom in at least twenty years. The heavy disembodied snoring coming from every direction confirmed that they were surrounded by slumbering giants.

"This way," a voice whispered gently from the darkness. It was Donovan. "Follow my voice... its a straight path."

The younger Mattels had developed a heightened sense of sight by Darwinian necessity. They lived and trained and worked in cavernous conditions, and while nothing compared to that of a cat or owl, their vision was quite superior to that of the Salesfloorers. During the day, the sentries could often be seen squinting, or outright covering their eyes from the intense light of day. Their other senses also picked up the slack when it was too dark even for them. As Donovan led the first team team towards the office, he would occasionally make a clicking sound with his tongue, a form of echolocation many Mattels used to judge distance in the deep, long black.

Lacey's group took each other's hands and tip-toed blindly into enemy territory. Donovan continued to guide them forward as quietly as he could. They had to make a sharp left turn, and then a straight shot onwards to the office. Each person in group one had been instructed to count their footsteps before hand so they could help others navigate in the darkness. So many steps forward to the turn, so many steps to reach the office, Conrad's lair.

Once inside, a single burning candle from on top of the desk provided minimal light to the room, presumedly so Conrad could find his chamber pot in the middle of the night. The team could just make out the towering edifices that were the filing cabinets, each with the drawers pulled out enough to allow a Mattel to crawl inside on each level. The desk lay at the far end... and their goal beneath it. Donovan lead the apprehensive thieves further into the dark, further into Dan Rasmussen's former workspace. The young Mattel felt his way to the Black Cat's container, not even wanting to make the tiny clicking noises at this point. It didn't take long before he located the old shoe box, that once held a nice pair of hiking boots Dan had purchased online, then pulled the fabric cover away a silently as possible.

When he handed Lacey the first package of Black Cats, she seemed confused. They weren't expecting the firecrackers to be collected in such large bundles, and with such noisy, crinkly wrapping. "Fuck," she whispered, "we need to rethink this." Lacey sent one of her scouts back to inform Rob's group that it was their turn to enter, checking the the number of their footsteps the entire way.

Group two made it in without event, and with hand in hand, the line stretched its way towards the office. In a genius bit of improvisation, Lacey altered the mechanics of the bucket line. Instead of of just handing each firecracker down the line one at a time, she had four individuals take a corner of the larger packages and used the existing line as a guide towards the door. The next four would step up and do the same, then rejoin the line at the back once the payload was delivered to Sarah's group. As the large, red packages of explosives began arriving, Sarah's charcoal-dusted underlings had to make the same adjustment.

The Black Cats began to pile up beneath the gondola where Alana had one team separating them into piles for distribution elsewhere, while the rest began whisking them away to their predetermined locations. It was extremely dangerous work, as any number of Mattel guards could pop up and catch them in the act. Those taking the risks to move about the building had to stick to the shadowy overhangs of the lower shelves. Just as the people inside the stockroom where struggling with, they had to do so without crinkling the delicate outer wrappings.

It was an incredible undertaking, and the speed and efficiency with which the entire mission was accomplished astounded even Alana, its architect. The weapons were arriving faster than she could get them sent away. There were even a few packages of strange looking variations of the deadly bombs with long sticks attached to them as well. She'd have to ask her grandmother about those later.

Not an hour into the operation and the first wave began to sneak back to the safety behind he kickplate, signaling that the box had finally been emptied. It wouldn't take but another fifteen minutes before the entirety of groups one and two had returned safely. The final step was for two people to run towards the stockroom with a large rag and wipe down the floor between the door and the gondola in case any bare, sooty footprints were left behind.

"That's... that should be the last of it, 'Lana," Sarah announced through a heavy pant as she closed the plate behind her.

"Excellent! Let's get the rest of it outta here and..."



Alana froze.



It was too dark for Sarah to see, but Alana's eyes were so wide with fear they could pop right out of her head. "Oh no... oh fuck... oh no no no no no no..."

"What?! What is it?! What's wrong?!" Rob inquired as she rushed to Alana's side.

"Oh shit, did we forget something?!" Lacey asked as well.

"Oh, fuck... oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! How could I be so stupid?!" Alana chewed herself out, hitting the side of her head in frustration. The last remnants of the stockpile were being lifted when she stopped the three other Kenners carrying it away in their tracks. "Wait! Drop those! We have to take them back!" Alana signaled to several others packing away their haul to bring theirs back as well.

"Take them back?! Have you lost your goddamn mind, Alana," Rob chastised in confused frustration. "We just put our lives on the line to steal all this fucking shit!"

Alana didn't need any of Rob's criticisms, she had more than enough of her own. "I... I made a mistake... a huge fucking mistake! Jesus, how could I be so stupid?!"

"'Lana? What's wrong?" Sarah asked as calmly as she could, even though Alana's reactions were putting her nerves on alert.

"Don't you get it? We took all of it! What do you think is going to happen when Conrad Hartman finds out his armory is missing?! He's gonna turn The Store upside down trying to find them... and he'll make everyone suffer for it! Not just us, everyone!"

"Shit. Oh fucking shit! She's right... how did we not realize this?!" Lacey was now just as distraught as Alana.

"It's my fault," Alana started, "I was too concerned with simply getting the explosives... I didn't even think about the consequences. How the fuck could I have been so careless?!"

"Alright, so we'll put some back... no big deal. Heidi hasn't closed the door yet, I'll run and tell her." Rob offered, then turned on her heals towards the Stockroom door.

Alana stopped her before she could leave. "Rob, wait... tell her to send Donovan. I've got an idea."

"What are we gonna do?" Sarah asked.

"What I should have planned for in the first place... goddamnit," Alana replied. "Lacey, go get Faye... tell her to meet Donovan and me in the back hallway. Fuck, this is so going to be so goddamn dangerous."

"What do you want me to do, 'Lana?" Sarah asked.

"This stack and this stack," Alana pointed out, "gather enough people to move them back into the stockroom. Be ready to go when Donovan, Faye, and I return."

Sarah raised her hand to her forehead and saluted her friend, "got it."

Before long, Donovan poked his head through the opening and Alana filled him on what needed to happen. The diminutive woman wrapped her arms around Donovan's neck so she could ride on his back, then took off down Aisle 1 to the rear wall of The Store. Alana hoped that the Mattel guards wouldn't think too much about seeing another one of them moving about in the darkness, but a Mattel fraternizing with a Kenner would most assuredly raise suspicions. Hopefully she would only be mistaken for a backpack in the dark of the night.

Towards the back of Aisle 15 was an entrance to a small hallway where the old restrooms were located. It was also where Dan Rasmussen used to store cleaning supplies, paint, and other random things had had to keep away from the food. A door connected the hallway to the far rear of the stockroom, but even before things changed, there was too much shit in the way to ever use it. Here, long ago when The Store was first trying to get on its feet, the hundreds... if not thousands of articles of clothing that had outgrown the residents were piled up in a great heap, truly a great mountain to anyone as small as a Kenner. Mattel, Kenner, and Hasbro alike had mined this 'mountain' of its woven riches any time new clothing or blankets needed making. This is what Alana was after.

As Donovan approached the doorway, a figure could be seen peaking around the corner and waving him in... Faye. Turns out she was going to be involved in the heist after all. They'd almost made it inside when a voice cut through the dark like a dagger.

"Hey... who is that?"

Donovan stopped dead in his tracks and spun around in shock. Christ, he hoped whoever the voice belonged to hadn't noticed the little Kenner clinging to his neck.

"Uh... who is it yourself?" Donovan tried as hard as he could to hide the fear in his voice.

"Is that... is that you, Donovan?" The voice asked, as its owner finally emerged from the shadows behind him. It was Aaron, a young man about Donovan's age whom he had always been friendly with. At least, until the last few months that is... Aaron was one of the most zealous followers of Constable Hartman's doctrine.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

"Uh... yeah," Donovan replied, "Aaron?"

"Uh-huh. What are you doin' out here at this time of night? You're not a guard," Aaron began playing the inquisitor.

"I... um... I...," Donovan struggled to find any excuse, let alone a good one. At the same time... Alana was slipping, hanging on by Donovan's collar bone alone. She had slid down as far as she could against the bare skin of her giant accomplice's back to remain hidden, but in doing so, her grip was beginning to betray her. If she fell, that would be the end of it... and not just because the fall could seriously injure her.

Donovan not only had to rack his brain for a reason for being there, but juggle with a horrible thought... he may have to kill his childhood friend. "I was just... uh..."

The Mattel spy's sweat made his skin even slicker than it was before, and he could feel Alana's grip starting to give at his shoulders. Instinctually, he wrapped his arms behind himself to catch her before she could let go. That's when he felt a much larger body pressed against his own... it was Faye! She had seen Alana about to fall and rushed up from behind. She was able to pin their pint-sized leader between her own and Donovan's bodies, something that couldn't have been too comfortable for Alana, but it was far better than getting found out.

Thankfully, Faye's wit was quicker than Donovan's.

"Hey, Aaron," Faye exclaimed with as much fake enthusiasm as she could muster, something she'd developed to near perfection because of Boyd. "How're things goin' in your aisles tonight?"

"Nothin' much," Aaron replied. "I'd kill for a little action... these long, boring nights are getting really tedious. How about you? You see any action?"

"Nah. Same as you," She replied, "Donovan here was just coming to help me stay awake, right Donovan?" Faye gave her fellow spy's right ass cheek a good, playful slap... something that caused his nervous erection to embarrassingly lift the up front of his loincloth.

"Uh... y-yeah... right!" Donovan stuttered. Faye lightly caressed his shoulder with the tip of her finger and rubbed her knee against his thigh. In any other situation, Donovan would have been in heaven... Faye was quite the catch, after all.

Aaron stared at them disapprovingly, scratching his head, "I thought you were Boyd's girl."

"I'm my own woman, Aaron of 1...," Faye shot back with playfully fake insult. "I don't belong to anyone. I'm free to do what I please with whom I please." It sounded good in her head at least, better to play the slut than risk everything they'd worked for. "Tell ya what though, keep this between the three of us and I might just make it worth your wild," she offered, followed by a wink and repeatedly pressing of her tongue into her cheek.

Aaron's eyebrows raised in excitement, "I might just take you up on that." He put his finger to the side of his nose and grinned, then began to walk away to resume his patrol. "Be careful, you two. If Constable Hartman finds out you're fucking around on duty he'll exile the both of you."

With Aaron's back finally turned, Faye quietly handed Alana to Donovan, who rushed into the back hallway with her. Just to sell the lie further, the clever giantess caught up to Aaron and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek and goosed him on the ass, "thanks... I owe you one." She then rushed off to rejoin her comrades.

"Oh, god Alana! I'm so sorry! I hope I didn't crush you too bad," Faye whisper-yelled as she slid to her knees to check her miniature girlfriend for injuries.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me... I just never thought I'd wind up being the meat in a Mattel sandwich," Alana jokingly replied. Faye didn't laugh, but responded with a worried kiss on Alana's lips. "You might wanna check on Donovan though, he looks pretty shook up."

The boy was, indeed. Donovan was standing with his arm bracing his weight against the wall. He was hyperventilating, and crying into his free hand. Faye cautiously walked up behind him so as not to startle the emotional young man.

"Donovan... you... you ok?"

He sniffed and took one deep breath after another trying to calm himself down. "Faye... if you hadn't... if I...," the next words out of Donovan's mouth revealed the true nature of his state, "would I have had to kill him? Would I have had to kill Aaron?"

"I don't know, Donovan. I'm sorry... but we still have a job to do and we're running out of time. I know that was hard, but I need you to suck it up right now. Save your tears for when this job is done."

Donovan shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes, feeling embarrassed for crying in front of his fellow soldiers, something that would never be accepted under Hartman's watch. Faye comfortingly rubbed his back until his breathing came under control again. He turned around and faced Alana, "ok... I'm good... what do we do next, boss?"

The mountain of clothing was huge and imposing, towering above them like a lonely peak. The amount of work that must have gone into its building was beyond what the three of them could comprehend. It had always been there as far as any of them were concerned. Once again, knowing the truth about their world, they could finally see the heap for what it really was. It wasn't a natural part of the scenery, but another remnant of a lost past.

"Donovan, about how large is the container the fireworks were stashed in?" Alana asked. Donovan paced out its rough length and width and showed her how tall it was with his hands. "Do you think the two of you can pull a couple of those out without toppling this thing and burying us alive?"

Alana pointed to some thick, wrinkled fabrics what were actually a couple of wadded up t-shirts, not knowing that's what they really were. In fact, most of the pile was made of shirts. They tended to be the only thing most people could still wear as they dwindled away during The Rapture.

Carefully and ever so painfully slow, Faye and Donovan worked the first shirt free, causing the entire pile to shift slightly with its release. The three tiny people froze in terror as they watched the textile mountain threaten to overtake them before they could get away. Then it stopped... and for the time being, the massive pile settled still once again.

"Let's try the opposite side," Donovan suggested, "so we don't push our luck."

His instincts proved to be correct, for if the pair of Mattels had continued working any more clothing loose, the entire heap most certainly would have collapsed on top of them. The larger people may have survived such a catastrophe, but Alana would most certainly have been smothered or crushed.

Once the two shirts were freed, Alana had her Mattel companions fold and roll them up to see how much space they filled. "Do you think this is enough to fill the box, Donovan?" She asked.

"It's gonna have to be, right?" He replied as he thumbed towards the teetering pile. "I think we've tempted fate enough here tonight."

The three of them fled the back hallway and sneaked their way back towards the stockroom. Alana took the lead, peaking her head out of the shadows of the endcaps to spy on the bored looking Mattel sentinels, aimlessly wandering the aisles as they yawned and fought off the urge to sleep. When a chance presented itself, she'd let Faye and Donovan know when it was safe for them to proceed. The pair of Mattels dragged the old coverings behind them like a child drags an oversized comforter. It was stop and go like this the entire way back to the stockroom.

Back at base camp, Sarah gave the signal and released a small group of Kenners, loaded down with packages of Black Cats, back towards the open Stockroom door. There, they teamed up with Alana, Faye, and Donovan... then reluctantly trekked back into the dragon's lair. This time, the intruders had to rely on Donovan and Faye's muscle memory in the pitch black to get them all to the office... all of the candles were out. One misplaced step, one crinkle of the wrapper... an uncontrolled sneeze... and they were done for. Like a pack of rodents, the disoriented group managed to sneak their way towards the office undetected.

Faye and Donovan packed the shirts into the shoe box, then strategically placed the packs of firecrackers on top so that the container would appear full again. They could only hope that it was enough to fool Conrad and Boyd.

Alana couldn't help but look upwards to the platform high above her, the desk. Donovan had told her before that that was where Hartman slept... he was right there. She wondered if she could end this all right then and there. Just creep up there somehow, place a firecracker under the good Constable's head. Quietly, with the stealth of the hunter she was... he'd never know she was there. He'd never know what hit him. With nothing but the strike of a match... he'd be gone.

It sounded good in her head, but she didn't know the terrain well enough to make the climb... or the strike. It was far too risky a move... at least for the time being. The sound of the firecracker going off could send every sleeping Mattel swarming into the dead end of a room and slaughter their little raiding party. After that, what was there to stop them from pouring into the aisles and killing every man, woman, and child in sight? It was a frightening thought, but having to let that man slumber away... dreaming whatever dreams someone like him dreamt... peacefully and without a worry in the world... just walking away was a hard pill to swallow.

Donovan and Faye saw the team safely to the door. The other Kenners fled beneath the gondola and then dispersed to their own aisles while the night could still hide their movements. Alana shook the hands of Heidi and Donovan at the door, the later receiving a peck on the cheek for going above and beyond what was asked of him. Though grateful, Donovan was glad that it was still too dark for the girls to see him blush. He and Heidi closed the door behind them and Faye made sure to get Alana home safely and to keep up the charade of a loyal Mattel guard.

The two kissed before Alana disappeared into her home and passed out on her bed, exhausted but satisfied. She was mad at herself for her oversight, and there would be plenty of time to beat herself up for it later, but they had done it. The rebels had worked together as a team and achieved the unthinkable. Even with Alana's potentially costly fuck up, the Kenners were now in possession of a deadly and powerful arsenal, something that could even the playing field when the looming and inevitable fight began. As the many members of the resistance found their way back to their beds, both named and unnamed, they did so with a sense of pride and accomplishment.


The following day... there was another execution.




End Chapter Nineteen

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-"Choices"




This time it was a woman who met her untimely end at the hands of Boyd.


Effie of 5.


Like Randall, she was nobody important... and that seemed perfect for the sadistic Mattel's purposes. Someone average... someone relatable.

Someone expendable.

More charges of burglary... more accusations of treason.

To helplessly endure watching a public execution was enough to traumatize anyone for the rest of their lives, but having to witness her another sent the residents of Rasmussen's Grocery into a state of panic. The horrified populace wanted to stop it, or at least avoid the barbaric event, but a certain Mattel captain made it frighteningly clear that if anyone failed to attend... he'd make them very... very... sorry.

Effie was strapped to the popsicle crucifix, her wooden hangings dyed orange instead of Randall's blue. The fuse burned away quickly and mercifully... then she too was blasted out of existence. The only choice those forced to watch had was to avert their eyes and cover their ears when the poor woman's screams were silenced by the explosion.

There was nothing anyone could have done, but the guilt of it hung over Alana like a darkening storm. In her mind, it was her choices that allowed this to happen. Rationally, she could justify leaving explosives behind so those murderous assholes wouldn't know the resistance had stolen them... rationally. The fact that she had, that they'd... that SHE'd left Conrad and Boyd with the means to take yet more innocent lives...

Alana couldn't bring herself to leave her room for three days after that.

The weight of leadership hung heavy upon her shoulders and the feeling made her physically ill. She couldn't shake the notion that she was just as responsible for that poor woman from Aisle 5's death as the cackling sociopath that lit the fuse. There was no consoling her. Not Keri. Not her mother. Not her father. It was a burden she needn't carry, but couldn't talk herself out of either.

That's what friends are for.

It was midday, and Alana had slept with her face buried in the soft comfort of her pink ankle sock bed, her head covered and hidden from the world by a stuffed sugar packet pillow. When she finally stirred, the weight of it all hit her again, so she forced the packet around her head to blacken out what little light there was creeping into the box, er... house.

"'Lana?" A warm, friendly, and very familiar voice startled her... it was Sarah. "Are you ok?"

The troubled teenager pulled the pillow away, that's when she found Lacey and Rob sitting propped against the walls of her room and Sarah close by at the foot (or toes) of the bed. How long had they been there?

"Go away," Alana grumbled, her response muffled by the dyed cotton pressing into her face as she turned away from them in annoyance.

"'Lana... will you please... can you just talk to us," Sarah pleaded patiently.

"I said GO AWAY!" Alana screamed into her bed, pounding her fists in frustration. That's when the troubled redhead started to cry.

Sarah put a hand on Alana's calf to try and comfort her, a gesture that only resulted in getting the pillow thrown at her.

"ARE YOU FUCKING DEAF?! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!"

Before seeing the things she'd seen, having Alana scream at her like that would have been enough to crush the timid little blonde. To have Alana reject her, the person she idolized above anyone else, even bone the silly superheroes she loved to read about... it would have been too much. From the looks Rob and Lacey shot each other from the other side of the room, they knew it as well. But Sarah didn't move, she was struggling to fight back the tears herself now, but she didn't budge an inch.

"Please... I'm begging you, talk to me, 'Lana," Sarah repeated. She kept her voice calm and direct, hardly the same strange, mousy girl she was a few short months prior. Everything they'd been through up to this point had changed Sarah. In a way, it was changing them all.

"What do you want from me?! Huh?! What do you want me to say, Sarah?!" Alana barked, then buried her face into her hands and weeped even harder. "I... I can't do this... Sarah... I... I'm a failure."

"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Rob asked bluntly. Sarah gave her a 'shut-the-fuck-up' glare and and raised her hand. Sarah wanted to handle the situation, and at that moment, she was indeed the right person for it.

"How do you think you've failed, 'Lana?' Sarah asked in the same gentle way.

"That woman... she's dead. I could have stopped it. We should have taken everything. If we had... she'd still be alive," Alana sobbed. "It's all my fault."

"Really?! Is that what you think?!" Rob butted in again. Sarah tried to stop her, but the exotic-looking cynic wasn't going to have any of this. "Jesus, Alana! How was that in any way your doing?! That fucking psychopath Boyd and his little pet Tony killed that woman! It has nothing to do with you!" Rob had grown frustratingly angry with Alana by this point.

"But... the fireworks... they blew her up... just like Randall. If we'd have just taken them all...," Alana continued to sob, before getting interrupted by Sarah.

"If we'd have taken them all, they would have made everyone suffer. Everyone. You said so yourself, 'Lana... you know this."

"Yeah, but...," Alana began.

"If they didn't have the firecrackers, they would have found some other way," Lacey finally added her two cents. "Boyd would have cut her, or crushed her, or set her on fire. He could have made it slow and agonizing, torturing her for hours in front of everyone."

"Jesus, Lacey...," Rob muttered, feeling genuinely shocked by the imagery Lacey was conjuring.

Lacy continued, "that poor woman was dead the moment Boyd decided it. Whether he blew her up or cut her into a thousand pieces... her fate was sealed. You had nothing to do with that."

"But what am I supposed to do when it's one of you?!" Alana blurted out. Finally, they were getting to the core of what was really troubling her.

Sarah put her hand on Alana's knee and leaned forward, "Is that what you're really worried about? Us?"

Alana nodded her head while still cupping it in her hands. "You... my family... your families... what am I supposed to do when I have to stand by and watch someone I know and love die? How am I supposed to live with myself?"

Alana's hands dropped from her face and she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Sarah in a suffocating embrace. Sarah's arms were pinned at her sides, but she still tried to hug her friend back as she cried against her shoulder. Then Alana cried out, "I can't lose you! Any of you!"

"That's not up to you, Alana," Lacey replied sullenly. "I don't know what's going to happen... I don't know if any of us will make it through this. I hope we do... I hope we have a chance to see the new world we're striving for. But if we don't... if my death somehow means freedom for everyone else, then... I think I can accept that. We all have to find a way to make peace with what could happen."

"Speak for yourself, stretch!" Rob quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. Lacey picked up one of Alana's dirty loincloths that was wadded up on the floor at chucked it as hard as she could at Rob's face in response.

Rob looked mortified as the well-worn garment slid down her face, the mere thought of having something that had spent so much time protecting Alana's undercarriage giving her dry heaves, "ew! Ewewewewewewew!"

While Lacey and Rob distracted themselves by grossing each other out with their friend's dirty clothes (something the two of them could often be relentless about) Sarah continued to hold her overwhelmed friend. "All of us are scared... just like you are, 'Lana."

Looking over her shoulder at the two boneheads wrestling around on the floor, Sarah then turned her back to face Alana. The two rolled their eyes simultaneously and shared a relieving laugh. "They're freaked out," Sarah assured her crying friend, "even though they're much better at hiding it."

Hearing Sarah speak so clearly and confidently had Alana a little off balance, and her friend continued to surprise her.

"I've never been so afraid in my life," Sarah continued. "Every ounce of good sense inside me is telling me to run and hide." Sarah pulled away from Alana slightly and took her by the hands. "But when I saw Randall die, I knew. I knew I couldn't just shy away from things anymore. I had to grow up and accept reality. All of this is so hard... but I have your strength to help guide me."

Sarah's words touched Alana's heart, but what she asked the sobbing redhead next really caught Alana off guard.

"Tell me 'Lana... are you ready to die for all of this?"

Alana had to shake her head a little at the bluntness of Sarah's question. "Of course. I'd give anything... do anything for you guys... for our people."

"Well... you don't have an exclusive right to that feeling. Every one of us is ready to give our lives for the people we love. All of our recruits are as well, they wouldn't be with us if they didn't believe in what we are doing. Freedom is bought with lives, and... and you're gonna have to find a way to cope with it, 'Lana. I didn't want to believe it... but now I've had to endure having innocent blood rain down on me... twice."

"Dying in battle is different than being publicly humiliated and executed," Alana replied.

"Maybe... but only if we allow it to be meaningless," Sarah replied. She had been trying to be strong for Alana, but she could no longer hold back her own welling tears. "If one of us ends up on that platform, it's just another thing we have no control over... but we can make it mean something if we do."

Sarah placed a hand on Alana's cheek and kissed her on the forehead, something Alana had done for Sarah so many times in the past to make her feel better... to make her feel loved and cherished.

"Jesus, how did you get so smart all of a sudden?" Alana quipped to try and pull herself away from her trauma.

"Yeah, no shit! Who are you and what have you done with our Sarah?" Rob blurted out through a light chuckle. She and Lacey had since ended their wrestling match and were staring slack jawed at this strange, wise girl wearing Sarah's skin.

"Don't you know... haven't you been listening? It should be obvious, 'Lana... it's because of you. We're all here because you inspire us. There's a small army out there awaiting your orders because they believe in what you're doing." Sarah explained with a gentle smile.

"Shit. No pressure, right?" Alana joked again.

"Alana, you didn't do anything wrong, but you're also human. You're gonna make mistakes... it happens. The fact that you're so broken up right now about the death of a single person, one you didn't even know, is inspiring in itself. It shows how much you care. It will only make your troops respect you more. Hold onto that.. treat them like none of them is expendable, even if we are marching them to their deaths."

Alana kissed Sarah on the cheek and hugged her again. "I'm starting to wonder if you should be in charge, Sare-Bear."

"If she was, nightly meetings would just turn into fucking art class," Rob snarked.

"Ooooooh! That does sound fun!" Sarah replied.

"Aaaaaaaaand there she is, folks," Rob snarked back and then shook her head in utter bemusement. As much as Rob enjoyed teasing Sarah for being such a weirdo, serious and focused Sarah was beginning to bum her the fuck out. She realized how much she missed the old version... as if she were a symbol of a simpler time.

Each of them had changed, Rob had been noticing, and not just the matching luggage they all carried under their eyes from lack of sleep. The usually stoic and confident Alana was having a complete emotional meltdown. Lacey appeared sad and distant most days. And Sarah, well... what she'd just witnessed spoke for itself. Rob wanted so badly for all this to be over, for Sarah to go back to being the girl with her head in the clouds...

... to just be kids again.

Roberta wondered if she'd changed too. Had the others noticed it in her? Was there any going back to who they were before? Would it even matter if things didn't ultimately go their way?

Suddenly the silence inside the room was deafening. Alana was clearly in a better place than she was before their visit, but none of them wanted to say anything to trigger her again. They just enjoyed each other's company, without talk of war for a change, quite possibly the first time they'd had a chance to do so since before Boyd's initial visit. Alana's parents didn't bother them, but Keri kept a keen ear to the goings on in Alana's bedroom. She was having a hard time fighting her own emotions with the weight of the constant guilt for what she was putting her granddaughter through.

Like anything else in those uncertain days, there was so much work still to be done. When Alana was finally able to pull herself out of bed, Sarah placed her hands upon her shoulders and asked her dearest friend...

"Well... what's next, boss?"




End Chapter Twenty

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-One-"A Night At The Movies"




The second execution would also turn out to be the last... thank god.

Constable Hartman was furious with his grandson for carrying it out without his specific order to do so. Sure he had ordered the first, but that was supposed to be the end of it. Randall of 6's death would provide plenty of motivation for obedience as far as Conrad was concerned. A flex of Mattel muscle was all the display was ever meant to be.

Fear and control.

To continue to kill indiscriminately could drive more towards a pushback he knew was already festering in secret. Disrespectful posters were one thing, but actual hope and organization would not be acceptable. To Conrad, the future of The Store depended on Mattel dominance. For their society to survive, total obedience and sacrifice would have to become as deeply institutionalized as faith... hence why he created his sham of a cult. Besides, the continued executions of Kenners would simply be a waste of his precious resources.

Boyd recieved a swift beating from his grandfather for acting without authorization, finding out just how surprisingly spry and strong Conrad was for a man of his age. The old man pounded on his grandson like a punching bag as he explained his philosophy over and over, trying to beat it into Boyd's head if necessary. Conrad's actions left Boyd stunned and confused long after the blood stopped dripping from his nose. Why the hell did his grandfather give a flying fuck about what he did to those worthless little shits?

Mattels above all!

The execution platform remained in place at the young captain's will though, with an erect cross standing as a reminder to all who saw it of who was in charge... and the price of non compliance. The late night, clandestine raids of people's homes and the subsequent disappearances continued to haunt the floors of The Store, with only a red tag left behind on the doors of vacant abodes as evidence of their "sins."

As for Alana and the resistance, she went over the best tactical locations for the distribution of firepower with her grandmother Keri. A large map of The Store, drawn up courtesy of Sarah's talents, allowed the two to work out the prime places for potential offensive and defensive maneuvers. The availability of the dwindling match and candle supply at each location had to come into play as well. Anyone who could was responsible for sneaking matches away from their households without raising suspicions.

More weapons for hand to hand combat were produced. Everything from rubber bands, to plastic cutlery. Nails to beauty supplies. Anything that could be fashioned into a deadly implement in the event of all out war. No ten Kenners stood a chance against the might of a single Mattel, so their coordinated strikes would have to rely not only with overwhelming numbers, but with precision.

The ankles would obviously be the most vulnerable, but thanks to Faye's information, Constable Hartman had already foreseen this as a problem. The Mattels were equipped with armor, pounded out over the past decades from discarded aluminum cans. Originally, the metal shielding was created for defense purposes in the event of another incident like the Night of Rain and Claws, but under Conrad's power, more attention had been given to the lower extremities... as if he was anticipating some kind of uprising once he took over. Calf, knee, and ankle covers had been forged from solid aluminum. This revelation of the Mattels' defensive capabilities meant that the Nelsonists needed to get creative.

Nelsonists... that's what the rebels began to refer to themselves as, in honor of the Alana's grandmother who had set this all in motion. Something that the aging lady herself felt very proud of, as she too took on the name herself once upon a time... in marriage to her dearly departed Alan.

The late nights were hard on the old woman, rarely attending the meetings, but in this particular night, Alana brought Keri into the gondola "catacombs" to show off their progress. The young leader wanted her generals present as well to make sure they got the credit they deserved for their hard work. Keri was astounded by what she saw. Stockpiles of Black Cats, weapons manufactured from anything and everything available, stacks of paper graced with Sarah's beautiful protest works. The scene before her was more than the pleased old gal could have hoped for.

"Grandma? I've been wondering...," Alana began to ask.

Keri's attention was still devoted to scanning the unbelievable progression, still in awe at what Alana and her friends had accomplished, "yes, my dear?"

"Well... Faye informed us that the Mattels are armored. Our initial plan was to take out their ankles to bring them down, but their legs will be well protected. I'm a little stuck as to what we should do. As it stands right now, those bastards will be able to stomp over us and not feel anything but our bones breaking under their feet." Alana put her uncertainty to the woman with all the answers, "any ideas? You always seem to have some example from history to help us."

Just then Faye made as quiet an entrance as someone her size could. She and Alana locked eyes and then simultaneously blushed, smiling coyly at one another, before trying to pretend the moment didn't happen.

Keri noticed.

"You like that girl, don't you my dear?" Keri whispered.

Alana said nothing, just clasped her hands behind her back and blushed even redder until her freckles nearly disappeared. She tried to avert her eyes from her grandmother out of teenage embarrassment.

"I'm happy for you," Keri assured her granddaughter. "She's smart... strong... and quite lovely. You deserve someone like that who can make you happy."

"She does, grandma. She really does," Alana replied sheepishly, dragging her toes through the dust in circles.

"Im glad to hear it," Keri continued, "I hope that when this is all over, the two of you can be a shining example of what can be. Mattels, Kenners, Hasbros... all of us as we should be... one people."

"Hey! No pressure there, ay Grandma?!" Alana giggled.

"Alright alright, what were you asking again?" Keri asked, waving her hand in dismissal.

"Oh, you know... only how the hell we're gonna engage people four times our size in hand to hand combat... nothing important," Rob cut in, overhearing the conversation and wanting answers herself.

"Right right, sorry... I'm getting old and my attention span isn't what it used to be." Keri thought about it for a few minutes, and worked things out verbally with the others. "So we can't cut them at the legs, but what if we don't need to? Tell me, do we have access to any fishing line?"

Keri called a nearby pair Kenner boys, who were engaged in an impromptu push-up competition in a futile attempt to catch Lacey's attention. "You two! What are your names?"

"I'm Kevin," the first young man replied as he pushed himself back to his feet.

The second did the same, "Reggie."

Both looked in Lacey's direction hoping she had heard... she had not. The tall general was too busy helping another group separate Black Cats from the larger bundles.

Keri snapped their attention back with her fingers. "Alright Kevin and Reggie, do either of you know where to find some fishing line?

"I think my dad has some stored at home," Reggie replied.

"Good, good. Could the two of you retrieve it without getting caught?" She pressed further.

"Uh... yeah, I suppose so... what for?" Reggie inquired.

Keri smiled and patted him on the cheek, "we'll get to that part when the two of you return safely."

Reggie and Kevin looked to one another and shrugged, then rushed off to retrieve the monofilament. With all of the outdoorsmen who once frequented the valley, Dan Rasmussen would have been a fool not to maintain at least a small selection of fishing supplies. Other than the useful line, most of the hooks and lures still hung from the same pegs they did when the world came to an end.

When the two boys returned, they were quite pleased to see that Lacey had joined the other leadership in conversation, yet another opportunity for both to try and make her notice them.

"We got it!" Reggie called out, resulting in a good shushing by nearly everyone in attendance. "Sorry."

Keri patted the young men on the back, then instructed them to, "cut me a section of line... let's say... about twice as long as Faye here's shoulders are wide." She was not ignorant to the looks the two boys were sneaking of Lacey. The senior member of their movement felt quite amused by all the pheromones that were circulating beneath the gondolas.

The two boys did as instructed and offered the cut length to Keri. "No no," she corrected them, "each of you take an end and stretch it out straight on the ground."

The boys shrugged again, but did as told.

"Alright, so... here's how you'll drop those tall sons of bitches to their knees," Keri began to explain. "You're gonna need teams of three people to pull this off. The first will be bait. Their job is to lead or direct the Mattel into the position we want them. The Mattels will think they're walking into a head on attack... and that's when we hit them from the sides. The other two will pull the string as tight as possible and trip the giant. That will be your chance to swarm them when they're on the ground. You'll have to coordinate it perfectly, but also make it look like chaos in the crowd to the enemy."

Looking at the line on the ground, Lacey wondered how they would manage to hold onto its smooth surface when the power of a leg twice as tall as most of the people there muscled through it. The answer hit her with something remembered from her childhood. "Hooks!"

The others jumped at Lacey's sudden outburst.

"Sorry," the tall, dark beauty said through embarrassed clenched teeth. The hooks she was referring to were the sharp fish hooks that would have once adorned the ends of the very line they were staring at. She would never have known that, of course, as she had never seen a fish or even knew what one was. It was the hook and line she used to scale the Quaker Oats can that Rob lived in when they were kids that made the excited girl jump with the answer to her own question.

"Those hooks hanging in Aisle 15," Lacey started to clarify, "they're very sharp and dangerous, but if we tie one to each end of the line, then all the holder has to do is wrap them around the legs and let go. The hooks will catch on themselves, or the edges of the armor, or even anywhere the Mattels' flesh is exposed!"

"Brilliant!" Keri congratulated the young general.

"Wow, grandma!" Alana beamed. "Is this some tactic from a famous battle?"

"Not exactly," Keri laughed, "unless you consider Isla Nublar to be a battleground."

The reference was completely lost on the younger generation.

"It's how the velociraptors hunted their prey in Jurassic Park," the old woman tried to explain, "along with a little Empire Strikes Back thrown in for good measure."

Again, Keri was met with blank stares. Alana had heard about movies before, but the idea of moving pictures may as well have been magic as far as she was concerned. Now an entire generation, that had never seen a reptile before, had to accept that there were once giant scaled creatures that roamed the earth millions of years before humans, as Keri struggled to explain. Let alone the fact that at their current scale, the sheer colossal size of these ancient animals was completely incomprehensible. If movies were magic, then this was like heading into a realm more fantastic than one of Sarah's beloved comic books.

Suddenly, Keri was surrounded by wide-eyed onlookers hanging on her every word. The group sat in a semi circle around her, several rows deep, listening intently like starry-eyed children. Keri went through all the different types of dinosaurs she could remember and did her best to describe what each looked like. There was a definite look of fear in the eyes of some of the listeners when she described the carnivorous ones.

The experience began to fill Keri's heart with feelings she hadn't had since before Alan died. She used to love people. Interacting with them. Helping them. Making them laugh. She used to live for these things. The old history buff even remembered what made her want to teach, way back when, in the first place. She couldn't help but feel ashamed for wasting so many years giving in to spite and reclusiveness.
More so that she'd let Conrad's actions destroy who she was like he did... and that she'd made William, her estranged son, suffer for it.

"...come on, grandma! Tell us the story of Jurassic Park!" Alana begged as she nudged Keri's knee. She was sitting on the floor just like the others, gazing up at her grandmother with her beautiful big green eyes, hardly looking the part of a cut-throat revolutionary. This was the Alana her grandmother had watched grow up, one not troubled by the miseries of their world.

A new worry took Keri as she looked at all those hopeful eyes staring back at her. These were just kids. Young adults sure, but in so many ways they were still so young... still so innocent. How many of those bright young faces were going to be gone by the end of all this? Keri suddenly understood why Alana had been so sickly worried as of late.

"Yeah! Come on Keri! Please?!" Sarah chimed in.

So many... and this wasn't even all of them. In other corners of this darkened building, there were others... working tirelessly towards what they hoped would be a brighter future.

Even if they didn't get to see it for themselves.

A single tear trickled down Keri's cheek and fell onto Alana's head.

"Grandma? Are... are you ok?"

Keri finally snapped out of her trance. She found a captive audience staring back at her in confused, but concerned silence. Keri wiped her eyes on the palms of her hands, feeling a little embarrassed. She stiffened her lip and then let her infectious smile beam across the candle-lit catacomb. She wasn't about to be the one to deprive these brave youngsters of a few moments of happiness and reprieve.

The old woman patted her granddaughter on the hand reassuringly, "I'm fine, my dear... just gathering my thoughts. It's been a long time since I've seen that film, after all."

"Film? What's a film?" Sarah asked.

"It's like moving pictures, right grandma?" Alana answered.

"Pppffftt... giant monsters, moving pictures... are you sure you're ok, Keri?" Rob quipped. Alana glared back at her fiercely.

"Would you like me to show you?" Keri replied, but also addressed the entire crowd.

She was answered with a collective gasp.

Keri called on someone from the audience, "do any of you know if there's a small post-it note pad nearby?"

"There's one at my house," a young man by the name of Sean replied, "we use it as a step stool. I don't live too far away, should I go get it?"

"Yes, but please be careful. Don't get yourself caught on account of me," Keri replied.

"Don't worry about me," the boy replied before springing to his feet and darting through the exit.

"Alright... as soon as he gets back I'll begin. Is there anything I can write with?"

Sarah jumped up and retrieved a piece of mechanical pencil lead from her art supplies and handed it over. "Will this work?"

"Perfect, my dear."

Less than fifteen minutes later, Sean returned with the "small" yellow pad, which to them was still wider than the desk calendar Keri used to keep on the counter of her little shop.

"Thank you, young man. Please take a seat and we'll begin." It was as if it were just yesterday that she'd stepped out of the classroom, Keri hadn't missed a beat.

Sean rushed back to his previous spot, tripping over his comrades in the process.

"Ok then... our story begins on a small island off the coast of Costa Rica. I guess I should explain what an island is. Think of The Store, but instead of mountains surrounding us, it's just water... as far as the eye can see. Now, on this island are a group of men... and these men are moving a large, heavy, and extremely fortified cage. This cage has to be strong, because the shrieking thing inside could kill them all in an instant..."

And so, keri began to orate the plot of Jurassic Park like an old folk tale, passed down through generations. And her audience reacted to hearing it like those who first saw the film in theaters... with complete astonishment. As she told the tale, with as much embellishment as she could while still keeping her voice down, Keri also sketched something quickly on page after page of the yellow pad. She'd flip it back and forth from the previous page repeatedly while continuing through her suspenseful yarn. Not unlike young Sarah, Keri was also once an amateur artist, but the years had made her fingers shaky and stiff.

She continued through the entire story, pausing only when she reached the surprise raptor attack. She made a few finishing touches on her mysterious artwork and then handed the pad over to Faye. "Thank you Faye, my arthritis makes it a little hard for me to flip the pages. If you could hold it up to the crowd, starting with the last page, let the rest fall quickly one by one."

Faye did as instructed and flipped the post-it pad through its entirety. She couldn't see it herself, but the entire crowd reacted to it. Like a wave their heads cocked back in surprise. More gasps filled the room. "What? What is it?" Keri's giant assistant turned the pad so she could see it flip... and she dropped the thing in shock.

It was a simple cartoon. Little more than stick figures to look like a hunter stalking a strange looking animal. Then suddenly, out of the bushes next to him a similar creature jumped out and bit him, only to be joined in the meal by the first creature. The whole thing only took a coupe of seconds to run through, but it's impact left the group stunned.

"Again! Do it again!" An anonymous voice shouted.

"Yeah!" Hollered another.

"Please... keep it down," Lacey scorned. She got up and peaked outside of their secret hideout to make sure no one had heard them. Luckily, Faye was their designated babysitter, so there wouldn't be another member of the Mattel gestapo for another three aisles away.

Faye flipped through it again, then again. Finally, and with as much joy as it gave her to see them all so excited, Keri had to press on.

Sarah's jaw had about hit the floor. She was absolutely struck by what she was witnessing. She had grown to pride herself on her artwork, but this simple flip cartoon made up of stick figures was beyond anything she could ever have imagined.

Of course, Rob took notice and whispered into Lacey's ear when she returned to her seat. "I think Keri just broke Sarah," she joked, thumbing towards the speechless blonde. The pair shared a restrained giggle at Sarah's expense.

"You wanna hear the end of this story or not? I'm an old woman and I'm up way past my bedtime," Keri said with a smile and a wink. "There will be plenty of time to play with the flip book afterwards."

She wanted them to use it over and over again, for them to show it to their comrades across the entire store... to make sure everyone understood how they were going to take down an opponent so much larger than they were. What better teaching tool than one no one could take their eyes off of?

When Keri had finished her story, describing the helicopter escape back to the mainland, there was so much energy building in the crowd that the place was about to erupt. Alana had to stand up and try to keep them all from breaking into applause.

"Do you have any more stories about these... these dinosaurs?" Asked Reggie, who was sitting next to his buddy Kevin in the front row. For the first time that night, neither were even thinking about the gorgeous dark-skinned girl they had both been so focused upon earlier.

"Well, they made a whole bunch of sequels, but to be honest none of them are very good," Keri replied.

"What's a sequel?" Kevin inquired.

Keri just chuckled to herself, "nevermind. That's enough for tonight anyway. I think you've all got work to do anyway... am I right?"

A collective groan accompanied the shuffling of dozens of bodies struggling back to their feet. A sound that made Keri chuckle even more, like when William would groan after his bedtime story.

William.

For the first time in years Keri felt hopeful. Not just for the youngsters gathered around her, but that maybe it wasn't too late to fix things with her estranged son. It may have been a strange thing to think about at that moment, but Jurassic Park wasn't exactly her favorite film... it was his. Even as a toddler the boy would sit in front of the tv and watch it over and over again.

After such a pleasant surprise, Alana didn't have the heart to make anyone work that night, so she sent everyone home. She had Lacey, Rob, and Sarah head off to their chapters and do the same. After all, the heist was a success... and things were progressing. More and more people were being drawn to their cause every day. Change was so close she could almost taste it.

Everyone deserved a break.

As Alana began to help her grandmother back to their little cardboard home, Keri spotted the strange stack of boom sticks in a darkened corner and her eyes lit up. "Are those... are those bottle rockets?!"

"You'd know better than me, grandma," Alana replied, "why? What's so special about those?"

Keri grinned ear to ear and wrapped her arm around Alana for extra support. "Oh... I have a few ideas... come... take me home. I'll tell you on the way..."

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The largest obstacle that remained was gaining the support of the Hasbros, or even some of them. The mid-sized people had staked out the two aisles furthest from the Stockroom long ago, and had grown incredibly reclusive over the years. A few were seen during rationing, of course, but that was about all. They didn't take kindly at all to visits from the Mattels or the Kenners. The Mattels because they resented their control of the food supply, and the Kenners because certain individuals had a tendency to steal supplies from them. Thus, the Hasbros' increasing size-ism took hold. The group had gone so far as to build gated walls at either ends of their aisles out of cast iron griddles to keep what they deemed the unwanteds out.

But, Sarah was already working on it, and Alana was confident in her abilities. Who couldn't love Sarah after all?

Above all else, the night off gave Alana and Faye a chance to spend some time together. As hectic as things had been lately, the opportunities to be alone... to make love... for Faye to simply hold Alana in her arms, were almost nonexistent. That night, their passionate intercourse profoundly melted one to the other, as if each individual lived only to be an extension of the other on some cosmic level. A cathartic experience for both in the light of the flickering candles hidden beneath the overhanging shelf of the mountainesque browser.

The moon crept across the skylight slowly while Alana and Faye watched far below. Faye's bare, sweat-drenched skin formed goosebumps against the cold tile beneath her. Alana cozied up between Faye's breast and her arm, held a securely and comfortably as an infant. She gently teased at the giant woman's nipple, watching it rise slowly at the mere suggestion of her touch.

"I think this is what people used to call a 'date," Alana whispered as she continued to toy with Faye's breast.

"What's that?" Faye whispered back.

"I think it's the way people used to find each other... romantically I mean. My grandmother told me a little about it... how she and my grandfather started 'dating'."

"I guess I'm still a little confused," Faye admitted.

"There were so many people in the world then, and it was so much harder to find the one you were supposed to be with. So, they would try different people out by going on dates. They'd do things together, like fun activities and stuff."

"And that's how they could tell if they were supposed to be together, Faye asked, "seems kinda weird."

"Yeah... I guess," Alana replied sheepishly.

There was a few moments of silence where Faye realized she may have just offended Alana a little. "So... what did your grandmother and grandfather do on these dates?" She asked, trying to remove her foot from her mouth.

"Well... on their first one, they had dinner. Then they went to a moving picture. Then they went home," Alana replied.

"That's it?" Faye asked surprised.

"Yeah, I think it took longer for people to know back then or something. But tonight, I guess... you and I kinda saw a moving picture together... you know what I mean?"

"Does that mean you know how you feel about me, 'Lana?" Faye asked smugly and half jokingly... but also half not.

Alana was all seriousness. "I knew from the moment our hands touched, Faye. I knew I wanted to be with you forever."

There was no response. Just silence. Then Alana felt one of Faye's tears roll off her cheek and onto her own.

"I'm sorry, Faye... did I say something wrong?"

Faye squeezed Alana tighter and kissed her on the forehead, "no, no... that's not it at all... as usual... you know how to say all the right things."

"What about you? Do you feel the same?" Alana whispered softly.

"I feel like I've been in love with you since the first time we spoke. It just took a while for my brain to catch up," Faye admitted, instantly realizing she let the "L" word slip. She could only hope she hadn't just fucked this up.

"I love you too, Faye."

Two women, separated only by their sizes and societal expectations, kissed each other passionately once again. Their admission of love gave extra charge to their pressing lips and the pleasant tingles creeping across their skin.

"Faye... when this is over... if we survive... would you," the words suddenly caught in Alana's throat. She began to tremble with worry. Was this too much? Was it too soon to ask? No... the only thing of which she was absolutely certain... was that there would be no future worth living without Faye. "...would you marry me?"

"Yes! Of course! Hell... why wait? Let's do it as soon as possible!" Faye suddenly found it hard to control the volume of her voice with excitement. "We could get Lacey's father to marry us!"

"Not yet," Alana replied abruptly. As happy as Faye's acceptance made her, there was a tinge of sadness in Alana's response, "I want to be able to do it in front of our families and friends. I want us to stand together before people of any and all sizes... and not have to be afraid, ya know?"

"Always the activist," Faye teased. "But yeah... I get it."

Alana began to caress the inside of Faye's hand with her own. Feeling the creases in her calloused skin with her tiny fingers, creating pleasant little tickling sensations in Faye's palm. She enjoyed seeing how small her own hand looked in comparison with her lover's. She snuggled deeper against Faye's side and began to drift off to sleep.


"I love you, Faye."


"I love you too, 'Lana. More than anything."




End Chapter Twenty-One

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Two-"The Hasbros"




An unexpected blur of blonde hair and pale skin sped through the Nelson household, much to the surprise of the three having their meager morning breakfast. It didn't stop until it reached the youngest member of the household, sleeping away the morning like most teenagers do, even though this one had had a particularly good reason to.

The blur was none other than Sarah, who wasted little time shaking Alana from her slumber. When the groggy redhead turned over, she found her friend doubled over trying to catch her breath. The winded blonde had barged into the Nelson home uninvited and bee-lined it straight for Alana's room, her excitement with the news she had to deliver taking precedent over any good sense Sarah had. The hard working little Kenner had put in so many hours to get to this point, and things were finally about to pay off. Gasping for air, she struggled to release the news that wanted so desperately to escape her mouth.

"Sarah, can you please calm down. You're gonna pass out," Alana said as she pulled her legs out from under the covers. "You're making me nervous here. What's wrong?"

Sarah shook her head and dropped to her knees... still breathless, still too overcome with emotion to speak. Tears were beginning trickle from her eyes and her face was beet red. Alana followed her to ground and tried to calm her friend down by gently rubbing her upper arms.

"Seriously, Sarah... slow your breathing down. It's gonna be ok. Just calm down." Alana began to run her fingers through Sarah's hair, like she had so many times before. "Take a minute here, whatever is wrong... we'll find some way to handle it. We always do."

"It's... it's ... not... it's not that... 'Lana," Sarah panted, "I... I... did it... 'Lana... what we... what we talked... about. The Hasbros... they're ready... to talk with you."

The groundwork had been laid several weeks prior, while everything else was going on... including the heist. Alana had challenged Sarah to find a way to contact any Hasbros that might be sympathetic to their cause. It was a big ask, especially with Sarah's nature, but the eager girl resolved to find a way. She began by simply lingering around outside the heavy, cast-iron walls.... hoping her presence alone would be enough to draw some attention from those standing watchful over the barrier. On ration says, when members of their tribe would actually leave their cloistered confines, Sarah would chat with their representatives in what could only be described as 'polite pestering.' Men would roll their eyes at the ditzy little Kenner who had become a fixture outside the metal wall. She'd try to butter anyone up who would listen, but for weeks and weeks, she was mostly ignored.

Until that day.

Sarah had become quite friendly with one of gate guards, a handsome young gentleman by the name of Nathan... the only Hasbro who would give her the time of day. No buttering up was necessary in his case. Despite their differences in size, him coming in at around six inches tall compared to Sarah's minuscule three, Nathan had secretly become quite smitten with the strange pretty little blonde loitering around from day to day. Like the Kenners, Nathan had long felt that the segregation of the size classes was absurd. Hiding behind their walls always felt pointless and unneighborly to the young man.

The busy artist and general was completely oblivious to the way Nathan felt about her. She thoroughly enjoyed chatting with him, and in the rare event that she didn't have to converse with him through the barrier gate and could interact face to face, Sarah found the lad to be quite attractive and charming.

But Sarah was very single minded in purpose. Unlike Alana, who had so much responsibility resting on her shoulders that she needed someone like Faye to support her, things like boys and romance weren't really on Sarah's mind... not that she'd ever had the experience of either. Her unjust reputation as the aisle nutcase made certain of that; but I digress.

In hopes of getting in Sarah's good graces, Nathan had offered to speak with the elder members of the Hasbros on her behalf. To be fair, it wasn't just because he was infatuated with her. He too believed in what the Nelsonists were doing... but winning the affections of this pretty toe-headed goofball would make for a nice bonus. When he told her that the aisle reps themselves were actually willing to give ear to what they had to say, let's just say Sarah could have leapt over the wall with joy. She darted back to 17 to tell Alana, which pretty much brings us up to speed.

"Oh my god! Sare-Bear! That's amazing! I knew you could do it!" Alana exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend in a tight Sare-Bear hug... which didn't help with Sarah's labored breathing in the least. "When?! When can we go?"

"Alana, I can't breathe," Sarah wheezed. Alana realized how hard she was hugging her and let go, but took both of Sarah's hands in her own and squeezed them instead. "Tomorrow. They want to meet with you tomorrow... at sunrise."

"With us," Alana corrected. "You made this happen, Sarah. You deserve to be there too. Lacey and Rob as well, I need my girls with me for support."

"What about Faye?" Asked Sarah.

"I'd love to have her there too, but a meeting in broad daylight would put her at too much risk."

"I could ask them if we can meet at night," Sarah offered.

"No, no... we need to show them respect and meet on their terms. Faye will understand, trust me." Alana's own elation took over and she quickly embraced her friend once again. "Oh my god, Sarah! I'm so proud of you!"

Sarah's normally pale skin had already turned pink from her run, but began to warm to red from blushing. "Thanks, 'Lana," she replied shyly. Then, suddenly, her head jerked upwards and her eyes grew wide with excitement again, "oooh, you think they'll have food?!"

Alana wrapped one arm around Sarah's neck and ground her knuckles into the blonde nest on top of her bestie's head with the other, laughing heartily as she did so.

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The four Kenner revolutionaries stood before the pitted black wall towering above them that sealed off Aisle 20 from the rest of the Salesfloor with butterflies doing somersaults in their stomachs. A barrier just like it sectioned off Aisle 19 as well, keeping the Hasbros 'safe' from the shady doings of the Kenner nuisance. A single General Mills cereal box with a swinging two-door gate cut through it stood centered between the massive unused cooking trays, just tall and wide enough for the Hasbros to get supplies through it. When no one arrived to greet them, Alana began to get nervous.

"You don't think they changed their minds, do you?" Lacey questioned no one in particular.

"God, I hope not. We need to work something out with them. Think of all the other Kenners that would join us if we had the Hasbros on our side," Alana whispered back.

"What do you think they're keeping in there?" Sarah asked with an inquisitive tilt of her head.

The others gawked at their diminutive friend, eyebrows raised and waiting for her to put her foot in her mouth.

"Huh?" Rob asked. The chemicals in her brain that gave the mischievous girl the tingles whenever Sarah stepped in it had already started to flow.

"Like... I hadn't really thought about it before, but what's so special in there that they've got to keep it fenced in like that?"

Rob couldn't resist, "maybe it's a dinosaur, like in Keri's story... you dimwit!" She and Lacey began to share a mutual chuckle.

Then the doors gave them all a start when they suddenly opened.

"Mornin', Sarah," Nathan said softly as he stepped through the cardboard gate.

"Hi, Nathan!" She greeted the tall young man back. "These are my friends, Rob, Lacey and Alana."

"It's nice to finally meet you. Sarah has said such nice things about you all," he said politely, making Rob feel a little guilty for having just called her friend a dimwit. Nathan stepped aside and extended his arm, gesturing for them to enter Aisle 20, "after you, ladies."

The four cautiously stepped forward, looking to one another nervously as they did so, then allowing Alana to take the lead. As they passed by the huge frame of Nathan, the only one of the girls who stood even slightly taller than his waist was Lacey. She inched close to Sarah's ear from behind her and whispered, "damn, bitch! You've been holding out on us! You didn't tell us he was so cute!"

Sarah turned bright red with embarrassment.

The Hasbro village was quite different from the rest of The Store. Where the homes in the Kenners' aisles were thrown up slipshod, wherever there was room among the years worth of debris piled up and cluttering every available space, the Hasbro houses were lined up in neat little rows. The spaces between them were clean and well kept. Like the rest of The Store, the homes were mostly made from old cardboard packaging, but there had been an effort to beautify their community. The boxes were painted shades of grey, white, and blue from the available paint the that Dan Rasmussen had bought to spruce up the the building's interior many, many years ago. They must have found his leftover paint cans in the back hallway, or perhaps in the Stockroom before the Mattels halted any more allowance within.

The small party of Kenner diplomats would never make the connection, because they knew nothing so little of the outside world, but the Hasbros had tried to make their aisles resemble the very communities they were forced to abandon. In some small way, at least.

Heads began to peak out of the entrances of the corrugated buildings. All of them giants, not quite as imposing as the Mattels, but still quite intimidating nonetheless. Some of them appeared surprised and perplexed, while others were visually disapproving of this strange little procession that had invaded their walls.

"Alana, I don't like this," Lacey confessed as she caught up to the proud and eager redhead. "I don't know, but this just feels... off. Don't you feel exposed at all? Vulnerable?"

"What do you mean?" Alana replied.

"I'm not sure, it's just... we've been doing everything in secret for so long now... all of these eyes on us... it makes me really nervous."

"I'm nervous too, but don't let them see that. If they wanted to turn us in, they could have done so already. Stay confident, Lacey. Carry your head high. Look like you're supposed to be here. We need to give the appearance that we know what we're doing."

"But we don't," Lacey whispered back.

"Trust me, I know," Alana admitted, but took Lacey's hand to try and calm her nerves... and her own. Seeing the other two do it, Sarah and Rob also joined hands, creating a four link human chain as they continued to follow Nathan's lead towards the center of the aisle.

There, built into the lower shelf of the gondola... which were spaced much further apart than those in the rest of The Store, was what would have appeared to any of the older generations as an office building. Again, constructed from cardboard and painted stark white so it stood out against the bland, tan shelving that surrounded it. There were spots where the paint had dripped down the sides of its corners and the shelf it sat upon, ultimately pooling and drying into rubbery lumps on the floor. The strange building was the dominant center point of the entire aisle. Windows were cut in symmetrical lines across its entire face, showing that it had multiple stories hidden within. There was a grand staircase in front of the edifice, pulled together from multiple spent boxes of Johnson & Johnson bandages that lead to the entrance, each step so steep that the little Kenner women had to help each other scale its incline.

Once inside, the entrance opened into a large chamber with different rooms jutting off to the sides. The interior had been painted as well, but with the light blue color seen on the houses outside. To the back, a doorway had been tunneled through the cork board backing the gondolas so entrance into Aisle 19 was easily accessible. There were artworks adorning the walls, assumedly done by someone living in the aisle, that made the place seem very stately. The diminutive quartet had never seen anything resembling this strange place in their lives.

Nathan lead them up another staircase, this time constructed from rectangular packages with words like "Winston," "Marlboro," and "Salem" printed on each step, that lead all the way up to the top floor.

At the top, an older man and and a middle aged woman were waiting on a semi-circular seating arrangement composed of long long wool socks, stuffed with more fabric for extra comfort. Both were draped head to toe in long robes, similar to the one Constable Hartman always wore, but stitched together from old cotton shirts instead of rodent. They stood up politely to greet the four awestruck little women as they entered the strange room, before sitting back down and making themselves comfortable once again.

"Which of you young ladies is Alana?" The Hasbro woman asked.

Alana raised her hand and replied, "Uh... I am... uh... ma'am." Alana kicked herself for sounding like a stuttering idiot. Great fucking first impression.

"We welcome you, Alana of 17...," the woman greeted, "and I see you've brought some companions with you."

"Yes... I hope that's alright. These are my most trusted friends, minus one who couldn't be here. This is Sarah, Lacey, and Roberta." Alana gestured to each as she introduced them.

"Rob's just fine," the dark-haired beauty corrected, with an awkward smile and a little wave.

"I'm sure she is," the kind-looking woman quipped with a sly grin. It seemed to work to relieve the awkward tension between the two parties.

"Please, come in... take a seat," the man offered, showing them where to do so.

The guests settled in with their legs crossed in front of them on a thick, brown sock. Even knee to knee, there was plenty of room for them all four of them to sit on a piece of furniture that would normally accommodate only a couple of Hasbro sized people. The man and woman sat directly across from them and didn't waste any time getting down to business.

"So, you four... I understand that you wanted to discuss something of great importance with us?" The man asked. He switched gears almost as soon as he began, "I apologize, where are my manners? I am Leon of 20 and this is Regina of 19. We represent the respective leadership of our collective aisles."

"Alana... why do they talk like that," Sarah whispered into Alana's ear, referring to the formality with which these two strangers spoke. Alana immediately shushed her.

"We thank you for meeting with us. And yes, we do wish to discuss a matter of some urgency." Alana immediately felt she had to prove herself by matching their formality with her own.

"And what would that be, my dear?" Regina asked.

"As you know, the Mattels have controlled every aspect of life within The Store for, well... forever, as far as we can tell. Over the course of the last few months though, they've dissolved The Store council and replaced it with Mattel guards who watch our every move. They've begun exiling Kenners for the most insignificant of infractions, and at a highly alarming rate. And most horrifying of all, they've staged not one, but two public executions... of which I'm sure you're aware due to the Mattels' mandatory attendance policies."

"Yes, that was quite shocking indeed," Leon admitted.

"Those people were killed with no proof that they had actually committed any crime," Alana continued, "and even if they had, the punishment doled out was deeply cruel and unusual. My friends and I, well... we've decide that enough is enough. It's time to stand up to the fascist Mattel dictatorship. It's time to restore democracy and unite as one force under this roof. It's time to end the disgusting size-ism that's held us all back for so long. And above all else, it's time to do what's right!"

Alana didn't even realize until it was too late that, while she was giving her impassioned speech, she had stood up from the sock and was pumping her fist in the air. She sat back down feeling particularly humiliated when her rally cry fell on silence.

"Did you rehearse that little... display, my dear?" Regina amusedly asked.

"Maybe a few times... in my head, ma'am. It sounded better there," Alana admitted.

Regina just grinned and waved Alana off, "No, no... it was quite inspiring. I can see what they say about you is true."

"Who says what about me?!" Alana asked, suddenly feeling the very exposure Lacey had just expressed her concern about just minutes ago.

"We've had our eyes and ears on your 'movement', ever since the little blonde one there first started trying to get our attention." Regina leaned forward a little to dump a bit of shocking knowledge on her guests, "you're not the only one with spies, you know. I mean, why else would we have built such a structure as tall as this? You Kenners think we've shut ourselves up inside these walls, but we pay very close attention to the dealings within The Store."

"Then you know the Mattels are committing atrocities. You know this can't stand!" Alana exclaimed.

This time Leon chimed in, "as far as we've determined... the problems in The Store are Kenner problems... and nothing more."

Alana jerked her head back in shock at his dismissing statement, "what?! That's... that's absurd! We're all people... we all live here!"

Leon's voice remained controlled, his demeanor stoic and cold, "the Mattels don't interfere with us, so why should we risk the status quo for a bunch of thieves and scavengers?"

"Hey! You watch your goddamn mouth!" Rob blurted out. "Just who the fuck do you think you are talking to us like that!"

"Rob, please... I'll handle this," Alana tried to restrain her companion.

"Listen to your fearless leader here, Roberta. She knows what's good for you," Leon stated in the same calm manner, but now with a hint of menace behind it.

"Fuck that! Did you assholes just bring us here to insult us!" Rob continued, "what the hell is all this anyway?!"

"Rob, please...," Alana repeated.

"We agreed to this meeting because of who your grandmother is, Alana of 17." Leon crossed his arms in front of him and continued, "she is, or rather was... a fine woman who helped get The Store on its feet in the early days. I still have the utmost respect for the woman... despite her, let's call them... eccentricities."

This time it was Alana's turn to lose her cool.

"My grandmother is not crazy! It's the rest of you smug sons of bitches who are insane if you can't see what Conrad Hartman is doing to us!"

"Be very careful, young lady...," Leon warned, "all it would take is a simple stroll outside the city gates... and a few words to an eager Mattel sentry looking to impress his boss to put an end to your cute little revolution."

Alana cocked her head back again, this time... tears of frustration began to flow, "you wouldn't dare."

"Try me," Leon replied with furrowed brow.

Regina finally inserted herself back into the conversation. She patted Leon on the arm and gave him a disapproving look. "Don't worry, dear... we have no intention of turning you in to the Mattels. You have my word on that." The stately Hasbro woman lowered her head and sighed, "but the fact of the matter is... we don't see how your problems are our problems. We understand your need to fight, and you have our blessing in doing so... but the Hasbros will not be involved in an unnecessary war."

The Kenners sat defeated in stunned silence. What just happened? What was the point of all this? Why would the Hasbros grant them an audience just to dismiss them? None of what had just transgressed made any sense.

"Nathan will see you out," Leon informed them, formally ending their meeting, "Oh, and Alana... say hello to your grandmother for me, will you? I do hope she's well."

Alana glared at the giant before her with the kind of rage she'd reserved for Boyd himself. They were all the same... everyone with the slightest scrap of power... and they only thing they did with it was lord it over those who had none.

"Come on... let's go," the furious redhead grunted and stormed towards the stairwell.

"What?! That's it?!" Sarah shouted, "after everything... we're just... leaving?!"

Alana couldn't even look Sarah in the face, mostly because she didn't know what to say. Sarah had worked so hard to get them a seat at this proverbial table, and it had turned into a complete disaster. Alana just kept moving forward. She let the other girls go down the stairs first, but being the person she was, she couldn't just leave without saying something.

"They won't save you, you know," the defeated redhead ominously predicted, pointing out the window towards one of the black barriers, "your walls. When those bastards come for you... when they run out of us to torture... and exile... and kill... you'll be next... and there won't be any of us left to help you. At least if we go extinct, we did so fighting for something. What will you have died for?"

"Ppfff... help from the Kenners," Leon scoffed, "I think we'd stand stronger chances aligning ourselves with the stink bugs crawling around in the walls, thank you very much."

"Suit yourself," Alana replied, "just remember this moment... this moment right here... when we stand triumphant. The founders may have done everything they could to bury history, but believe me... history will judge your inaction accordingly."

And with that, Alana huffed down the stairs in a heated rage. 'How could anyone be so selfish,' she thought to herself. What was the point of all this if they had no intention of helping to begin with? Why the fuck were they even there, wasting their time?

As she rounded the final flight, lost in thought and spite, Alana misjudged the height of the first step and tumbled face first down the stairs. Her friends were waiting at the bottom, but couldn't act in time to catch her. The already furious woman landed hard on the edge of a pack of menthols, leaving an impression in the package... and her with a bloodied nose. Alana adjusted herself and turned so she sat hunched over on the final step, pinching her nose at the bridge. "Fuck me."

"My god, Alana! Are you alright!?" Sarah exclaimed as she rushed to her friend's side.

Alana raised a hand to stop her without making any eye contact. The embarrassment that came with the fall after the shit-show they'd just sat through was excruciating enough. Not even Sarah was going to be able to make her feel any better about it. She leaned over and spit some of the blood that was running down her throat onto the pristine floor, which at least gave her a little bit of satisfaction. "I'm fine... just give me a second."

The others, including Nathan, could only stare awkwardly in silence as they watched Alana continue to bleed all over herself, silently reflecting on her first real defeat. She sat with her legs spread wide, watching the droplets fall one by one and flower as they struck the painted, pulpy floor. Alana hoped they wouldn't be able to clean any of it up... that every time those cowardly sons-of-bitches saw the stains she'd left behind for them, they'd have to think of her.

"Come on, lets go," Lacey said offering her hand to pull Alana to her feet. The dejected redhead accepted it, but said nothing. "You sure you're ok, Alana? I don't just mean your nose."

Alana just pushed past her and stormed out the door. She hopped down the steps and kept a swift pace ahead of the others until they finally passed through the gates. It felt relieving... to be free of the claustrophobia of that place. It took a few minutes more, but she was finally able to clear her head.

Out of nowhere from behind her, a hand was extending a piece of frayed out fabric. It was Sarah, and she'd ripped the swatch from her own loincloth. "Please... take this, 'Lana... for your nose."

"Thanks," Alana graciously accepted the faded hanky and pinned it to her face.

"Are you mad at me?" Sarah asked, wringing her hands anxiously.

"What? Mad at you? Why would I be angry with you, Sarah?" Alana replied.

"The meeting... was that my fault? Did I do something wrong?" Sarah started to cry thinking that she was responsible for the way things went in the tower.

Alana put her arm around her deeply worried friend and squeezed her tightly, "of course I'm not mad at you, Sare-bear. How could you ever think that?"

"I just... I know how important that was and..."

Alana cut her off, "it's not your fault, Sarah. Those people are cowards. That's all. And we don't need them."

"What do you mean we don't need them?!" Rob butted in, as was becoming of her. "Weren't we hinging the success of this whole goddamn thing on having an army of giants at our disposal?! Fuck. Fuck! We are so fucked!" She shouted in frustration.

"Don't you think I know that, Rob?" Alana asked rhetorically. "Do you think I somehow enjoyed being treated like that?!"

"Alana, its all going to shit! Even with a million more boom-sticks, are we really going to be able to stop the Mattels?! They're fucking monsters! We're going to end up as stains under their feet!" Rob had begun pacing and pulling at her hair. She was terrified, and she had every right to be.

Alana released Sarah and pulled Roberta in close, who began to sob into Alana's shoulder at her touch. "Look... Rob... its no longer about what we can or can't do. We just have to try. We might fail... and we may die, but we still have to try. If we just stand by and let those bastards treat us like we're... we're... fucking... disposable, then we're no better than those fucking coward Hasbros sitting in their pretty buildings. What does anything matter if we're forced to live in fear for the rest of our lives?"

"I don't need a speech, 'Lana," Rob huffed through the tears. "I just don't wanna have to watch my friends die and have it mean fucking nothing."

"It won't mean nothing," Alana sternly replied as she pulled Rob away from her slightly to look her directly in the eye. "In fact, people will talk about what we did here long after our grandchildren are dead. The idea that maybe, just maybe... even if we fail, a Mattel will think twice about fucking with another Kenner because WE stood up to them... that someone else may be inspired to pick up where we left off... then I can die feeling like I made some kind difference."

Rob wiped the tears out of her eyes and pushed Alana's hands away from her shoulders. "I'm still with you, boss... I'll follow you to the very end... I just wish it was for more than maybes."

"That's all we had to begin with, Roberta," Lacey added.

"Um... I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt," a male voice interrupted. It was Nathan's, and none of them had noticed he was still with them outside the walls. "If I can... I'd like to help. I may not be able to convince the aisle leaders... I guess that became pretty obvious today. But I know I'm not the only one who thinks living behind these stupid walls is ridiculous."

"Of course!" Lacey blurted out with sudden clarity, "what the hell are we doing here anyway?! We've accomplished so much already... and we've done all of it in secret! Why the hell are we having official meetings with stuffy leadership types?!"

Like a wave of relief, Alana slapped her hand against her forehead with what should have been an obvious realization. "Jesus fuck... you're right! You were right from the beginning! Even your own father wouldn't give us his support, Lacey! What the fuck am I doing?!" Alana laughed and shifted her shoulders up and down like she was a big swingin' dick, "suddenly we're... like... some big-shot diplomats or something?! Haha!"

The others laughed along as well, acknowledging just how ludicrous the entire bullshit experience had been.

"We're guerrillas, that's what were good at... hell, we're great at it!" Alana tuned back to Nathan with a big smile on her face, "yes, Nathan... we'd be glad to have your help! Welcome to the team!" She extended her tiny hand and he accepted it in his.

"I won't let you down, I promise," he assured her.

"Glad to hear it!" Alana happily replied. "Since you and Sarah already know each other, I'll have you report directly to her with information. She's in charge, get it?"

"Yes ma'am," he complied with a laugh, which proved quite contagious.

Nathan waved goodbye and returned to the gate, while the girls made their way back to 17. Not out of character, Sarah found herself a little confused and asked Rob in secret, "aren't gorillas... like... big, hairy monsters that live in the jungle?"

"Fuck if I know," Rob admitted, "I'm still hung up on whatever the fuck a 'diplomat' is! I thought you guys knew what the hell she was talking about!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, you certainly could have been more cordial," Regina chastised Leon.

"What of it?" He replied.

"I don't know, four small Kenners come to us looking for assistance and all you can do is treat them like common aisle-trash."

"They aren't?" Leon replied sarcastically.

"They aren't," Regina emphasized. "They're just people like you and me."

"Please...," he scoffed, "the whole thing is probably just a rouse so they can gain access inside our walls and scope out whatever they can steal."

"'Oh, please' YOURSELF, Leon," Regina scoffed back. "As small as Kenners are, do you really think they'd have any trouble getting inside here if they really wanted to? The walls are just for show... and you know it." She placed her fists on her hips, increasingly irritated with her companion's attitude towards the whole thing.

"It doesn't matter," Leon continued to argue. "They don't stand a chance... and if we stay out of it when the hammer comes down, the Mattels will be leave us be. Hell, they may even reward us!"

"But what about the girl? Alana. She's smart, I can tell... and from what our eyes and ears on the ground have told me, she has the people's hearts and minds." Regina's arms moved from braced at her hips to crossed at her breast.

"She's an idealist. Nothing more... and she's going to get herself killed," for the first time in the conversation, Leon actually showed some kind of compassion for the smaller race. He sat down and stared blankly at the floor in front of him, "she's going to get them all killed. Everyone she loves. They're going to suffer horribly... and nothing will come of any of it... gallons of blood will be spilled... for nothing."

Leon looked up into Regina's eyes. He felt old and worn. In his heart, he wanted to believe things could change, but the state of Store affairs were just too far gone in his eyes. A single tear dropped down his cheek and his lower lip curled and quivered.


"This is hell, Regina. It always has been... and it always will be..."



"...abandon all hope ye who liveth here."




End Chapter Twenty-Two

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Three-"Crash..."




It felt like sitting on the edge of a great precipice, one so deep that the darkness obscured the bottom. A single gust of wind could be enough to blow her over the edge. The war was close... everyone could feel it.

Alana's meetings had been growing shorter and shorter... mostly because she was running out of things to say. Her army was ready. They had a plan of attack. The numbers were on their side, even without the cooperation of the Hasbros. All they needed now was a window of opportunity.

Each of the miniature leader's generals made it a point to report to her on each cell's progress. Across the board, they were primed for a fight. Constantly being patrolled outside their own homes like criminals; seeing their neighbors and loved ones continue to vanish on a daily basis... it had everyone on edge. The Nelsonists were of one mind... and ready to lay down their lives to put an end to Mattel tyranny.

Even Keri had run out of useful things to teach Alana. The young rebel was as ready as she would ever be to lead her troops into battle, a position no one envied. A role, deep down, I'm sure Alana would pass on to anyone else if she could, but she was the face of this rebellion, and god knows she'd earned that respect from the others.

"I can feel it," Alana whispered.

She was laying on her stomach... comfortably nestled between her giant fiancé's breasts. She rested her her chin on the backs of her hands, a peaceful state Alana had grown to love just as much as their earth-shaking sex. Nothing would make her happier than to spend the rest of her life waking up on her soft, gigantic... Faye-shaped bed. She felt comfortable, like the gentle giantess herself was home.

The tips of Faye's fingers ran gently up and down the length of Alana's spine, almost an effortless movement of the wrist for someone her size with someone as small as Alana. She traced the tiny scars and blemishes that stood out on her tiny lover's skin, wondering what horrors she had faced in her eighteen years of life. Their hours of love-making had culminated in orgasms so intense that neither woman could bring themselves to do much more than turn to jelly.

"Feel what?" Faye asked.

"It. Everything. It's here," Alana replied, "just waiting for us to realize it's time. I feel like I'm about to walk off a cliff."

"That's kinda bleak," Faye quipped.

"No... no, its not like that at all. More like... like I'm ready to take that step, whatever the result may be."

"I'll tell you what will happen in your little metaphor," Faye playfully scorned, "you end up a little red stain on the floor."

"That's just it... I won't," Alana replied calmly and confidently, "because no matter what... no matter how far I fall... I know you'll be there to catch me. You give me strength, Faye. I know I can do this because of you."

"Awwww, shucks," Faye teased, "once again, you know exactly what to say to make a girl feel special." She stopped tracing her pattern along Alana's back, resting her middle finger on a set of three parallel scars. "What about these? Would I have been able to save you from whatever caused them?"

It was more of a joke than anything, but Alana had no problem explaining what happened, "yeah, that was a hell of a thing. Dad and three of his friends took me along with them. We were stalking a squirrel that got in through the wall... and let me tell you, they may look cute... but those fuckers pack a hell of a punch. It was so much bigger than the four of us combined!"

With her curiosity sparked, Faye caressed her way to a pair of crater-like puncture scars near Alana's shoulder, "what about this one?"

"Spider bite. That one nearly killed me...," Alana explained, "spent over a week in bed before the fever finally broke. My parents weren't sure I was going to make it. Guess I'm just too stubborn to die!"

The smaller woman dropped the legs she'd had propped up in the air so her feet came into contact with Faye's abdomen. The little redhead felt around with her toes until she found what she was looking for, a long white scar just below her giant lover's navel. She had grown to know Faye's body so intimately through their tireless lovemaking that she barely needed to move to find it. She lightly caressed the old wound's entire length with her big toe. "What about you? If we're comparing scars and all... what caused this?"

"Boyd," Faye answered, "a little gift he gave me during one of our sparing matches... training."

There was another scar on Faye's side, right against the ribs, that Alana pointed out next. "Same thing," Faye replied without being asked verbally.

Alana pushed herself up and pointed to the scars gracing Faye's legs, just above the knees, "and those?!"

Faye suddenly became rather sullen. "He always wins."

"Faye... I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"No, it's not you...," the larger woman clarified, "I just worry... in fact I've been worried for quite some time. What happens if... WHEN... I have to face him, in combat I mean? I've never beat him, Alana... I don't know that I can."

Alana settled back down between Faye's large, milky white breasts. "I don't think there's anything you can't do, Faye. You're the most amazing person I've ever met." In regards to Faye's initial comment, Alana returned, "I guess you're not totally wrong though. From everything grandmother has told me... no matter what side comes out on top... war is always bleak."

The thought hung there for a few moments in the deafening silence. Alana enjoyed the rhythmic pounding of Faye's powerful heartbeat beneath her, while Faye continued to caress the smooth texture of Alana's naked back. Then, from out of nowhere, Faye spit a little as a laugh escaped her. She covered her mouth and continued to chuckle.

"What?" Alana asked, beginning to catch Faye's infectious giggles herself. "What did I say?"

"No, no no no... that's not it at all... I was just thinking...," Faye struggled through her own chuckling, "we're about to wage a war, one we've been preparing for for months. It's kinda weird that this all started because of a rat... isn't it?"

"Well... yeah... when you put it like that! 'Twas the bulky corpse of a felled rodent what intwined one maiden to the other," Alana crooned before breaking into all out laughter herself. She buried her face in Faye's chest as each of their respective giggles fueled the other's in a growing crescendo, until they both grew tired and sighed in relief.

"Aahhh... uhhh...wooooo... I hope we don't die," Faye sighed, which caused them both to erupt into laughter once again, the kind of laughter that can only be shared and understood by the closest of friends. It took another few minutes before they could control themselves once again.

Faye sighed once again, and then said something strikingly peculiar. "Seriously though, the thought of someone like Fat Ben eating you after you die is too awful for me to think about." She chuckled a little to calm herself, then closed her eyes for a brief moment.

"That's... that's a strange thing to say," Alana stated, confused by Faye's out of place comment. Her head perked up from Faye's chest and she propped her head on an arm.

"So says the girl singing about dead rats," Faye replied with another little giggle.

"Faye... what are you talking about?"

The towering brunette held her eyes shut and answered Alana's question with another. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Why would you say something like that?" Alana giggled awkwardly, thinking Faye was just fucking with her.

"I don't know... I guess if we all die, the thought of just becoming food for the other Mattels is just kinda... a waste, I guess." Faye finally opened her eyes to find Alana staring back at her. The light mood had dissipated, and the little redhead looked terribly worried. "Alana? What? What's wrong?"

"What do you mean when you say we'd become food, Faye?" Alana's voice was quivering and serious now.

"The dead, you know... how we eat them?" Faye asked nonchalantly, feeling genuinely perplexed by Alana's reaction.

"No Faye, I don't know... why don't you tell me." The tension between them was growing at a rapid rate.

"When someone dies, we consume them... why are you so upset, 'Lana? What did I do? Did I say something wrong?"

Faye attempted to place the tip of her finger against Alana's cheek, but the smaller woman swatted it away, then pulled herself back onto her knees... still perched atop Faye's stomach. She slid down the side of Faye's abdomen and onto the floor. "Faye, are you telling me... the Mattels... are fucking cannibals?!"

Faye was getting increaingly frightened by Alana's reaction to something so mundane, in her eyes anyway. "I don't know what a cannibal is... Alana, please.. what's going on?!"

Alana began to back away from Faye slowly. "Eating the flesh of your own kind, Faye... that's what cannibalism is."

"I... I... I guess... yeah, then," the giantess stuttered, "I don't know... Alana what's wrong?! Please talk to me!"

"You... you don't even understand how fucked up this is... do you?!" Alana clutched at her skull and pulled at her crimson locks in disbelief... still backing further and further away.

"Alana please," Faye quickly flipped onto her knees, but hit her head on the low hanging roof above them in the process. "Ow! Fuck! Alana... wait!"

The larger of the two began to approach the smaller, who would have none of it. She took another step backwards in response, "stop! Don't come any closer!"

"Why?! Alana... why?! I don't understand why are you're acting like this?! Why are you so afraid of me?! I love you! I would never hurt you! Alana-," Faye suddenly found herself choked up and fighting back tears.

"I said back off!" Alana barked. "Don't come any closer!"

"Alana?" Faye continued to sob. The woman she loved more than anything in the world was staring back at her like she didn't even know her... and it felt like razor blades shredding her from the inside.

"It's not just Mattels, is it?" Alana asked, not really sure she wanted to know the answer. "Who you're eating... you're not just eating your own dead... are you?!"

"Please," Faye repeated, clutching her hands to her face to cover her eyes. She couldn't stand seeing Alana look at her the way she was.

"ANSWER THE GODDAMN QUESTION!" Alana screamed, not even caring who may hear.

"No... but," Faye started before being cut off again.

"Oh my god...," the irate redhead gasped, "the funeral detail... its always been run by the Mattels... oh god! How long has this been going on!"

"I don't know," Faye exclaimed through her emotional state. "It always has for all I know... I don't understand... why are you so upset with me about it?!"

Alana raced around in her head with the sheer horror of what this meant, "our loved ones... our friends... our fucking parents and grandparents... we thought they were being taken for a proper burial! This is so fucked up, Faye!"

Faye peaked out from behind her hands and timidly asked, "you mean... like... putting them in the ground?"

"YES!" Alana screamed again with her arms extended in frustration.

"Where... where would we do that?" Faye emphasized her point by knocking on the hard tile beneath her. "I know that's what people used to do, but there's nowhere to do that anymore."

Alana snapped back, "I don't know... how about the fucking fields?! Or fucking cremation! Anything but fucking eating them!"

"The fields are full, Alana," Faye whimpered. "There's nowhere left to put any more bodies. That's why the fields died, the crops no longer had fresh fertilizer because no one wanted to pile more dead on top of those they'd already lost."

"So what? The only solution was to just eat all of us instead?! That's fucking sick, Faye!" Alana stomped her foot as she grew ever more infuriated. "It's disgusting and insane and... and... above all it's just fucking wrong!"

"Our food supply is dwindling to nothing," the crying giantess tried to explain, "and it would have run out a long, long time ago if we didn't do it. We did it so the rest of you didn't have to!"

"Oh!" Alana belted out with exaggerated sarcasm. "I get it now... so you were doing us a favor! Well fuck me! I guess that makes everything right as fucking rain then!"

"Alana please!" Faye pleaded, "I don't know why you're so mad at me! Tell me what can I do to fix this?!"

Alana's gaze lowered to the floor, her hate burning with such intensity that she could no longer bring herself to look at the very person she was so in love with just minutes ago. For anyone who'd have seen it they wouldn't have believed it with their own eyes... a Kenner making a Mattel feel small.

"You own parents, Faye... did you...," Alana couldn't even bring herself to finish the question... and Faye didn't dare answer.

"How could you?" The tiny redhead screamed. "How could you not tell me about this?!"

Faye pleaded, her heart aching more with each passing moment, "Alana... I don't understand why you're so upset! How can I fix this?"

"Exactly... you don't know," Alana's tone had grown colder... meaner. "That's the problem."

As the incensed Kenner clenched her fists tighter and tighter, her broken and jagged fingernails began to draw blood from her own palms. "You're all the same... fucking monsters... every last one of you."

Faye reached out, "Alana... no..."

Then... Alana made a promise, "...and I'm going to kill every last one of you." She backed out of the opening at the edge of the kick plate... and disappeared.

"Alana! No! Please don't go!" Faye tried to dive forward to catch up to Alana, but hit her head again, and much harder this time. She held the back of her head with both hands, putting pressure on the unbearable throbbing pain... and then completely fell apart. She couldn't move... her heart wouldn't let her. It was hard to believe what had just happened actually transpired. Had Alana really just abandoned her?! Was this really the end for them?! The thought of a future without Alana in it felt... suffocating... and terrifying.

So there the gentle giantess stayed... knees pulled to her chest in the fetal position... crying harder than she ever had before. A trickle of blood from her impact had found a way out of her hair and down across her hands to the floor. The dark's embrace felt cold and indifferent in Faye's moment of complete and utter despair. Outside though, that was reality... and she couldn't face that yet.

A reality where the love of her life hated her... and she still didn't even know why.

Alana rushed home in tears. She felt betrayed by the one person she loved and trusted above all others. She kept trying to use her rage to fight back the inevitable flood, but as soon as she walked through the door and saw her mother's face, the trembling girl couldn't contain her tears any longer. She fell to her knees at her sitting mother's feet, crying loudly and without restraint into the woman's lap. Her mom didn't know what to make of the incoherent things her daughter mumbled into her lap... something about cannibalism... and Faye... and god knows what else.

All that could wait. Evelyn just sat back and let her daughter unload her troubles, and she'd let her do it for as long as she needed to... like any good mother would. She'd calmly stroke Alana's hair and shush her sorrowful daughter, just like she did when the little redhead was a child.

The terrible swirl of her emotions and the heavy weight on her shoulders had finally taken its toll on Alana... the girl fainted right there. Her mother, father and Keri rushed to help her, checking her pulse and breathing. She was alive, which she was, but it was as though her mind had overloaded and needed to shut down for a while.

So they let her sleep. Her mother and father lifted her up onto the sofa, really just three makeup compacts lined up in a row against the cardboard wall, and her mother held her daughter's head in her lap throughout the night.

Bennett and Keri whispered amongst each other with concern. Bennett accused Keri of pushing the poor girl too hard, and Keri in turn accused her son in law of being too soft. The argument would go on for hours, each one of them worried about how bad things had gotten, only for different reasons.

Neither could have known how much worse things were about to get.




End Chapter Twenty-Three

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Four-"... and Burn"




Abruptly and without warning... the world turned on its side.

Alana awoke in her room with a start. She couldn't remember how she got there, having at some point been moved to her bed by her parents, but this was the least of her worries. The feeling of being tilted and falling had brought her out of her slumber, along with the disorienting impact against the eight of diamonds that made up one of the walls of her room she now found herself laying on. The entire contents of her room piled down on top of her, pinning her to the playing card that began to bend under the stress of the weight. She could hear her family on the other side of the wall screaming, along with the crashing sounds of the chaos extending beyond her room. There was another sound, one that overpowered all the others... a menacing snickering coming from outside the house. Alana knew that cackle all too well... Tony.

"Grandma! Mom?! Dad?! Are you ok?!" The trapped girl called out from beneath the heavy, suffocating pileup that had rendered her immobile. The flimsy card beneath her continued to curl and the packing tape holding it in place began to give.

"Ah! She is in there," Boyd's pleased voice stated, the sound penetrating the cardboard exterior with ease.

"Oh no," was all Alana could get out before the house began to shake back and forth violently. Up and down... side to side, g-forces pulling and lifting the tiny woman like she was nothing. Had Alana any concept of what an earthquake was, the one she was experiencing would have been the most violent ever recorded, but this was no earthquake. The immense energy being released and inflicted upon her was relegated to their home, and their home alone.

Unable to find purchase as she tumbled around like clothing in a dryer, Alana was bounced out of her room, picking up speed as she slid across the floor and dumped out of the front door. She landed hard on a small hill, a heap made up of their entire house's contents, getting the wind knocked out of her lungs on impact. She flipped around to find three enormous men looming over her... one she hadn't seen before, Tony... and of course Boyd. The three of them were laughing themselves stupid while they finished shaking the box empty, then tossed it aside like it was nothing.

"Well, well, well... good morning there, Killer," Boyd greeted the fear-stunned Kenner through his usual slimy, snake-like grin.

Alana felt breathless. She was exposed, naked and vulnerable before the trio of cruel gods. Even as she gasped for breath, the cornered redhead had to brace herself as more makeshift furniture tumbled down the pile upon her, threatening to cause serious harm. She struggled to free herself from beneath one of the compacts that made up the sofa while still trying to find her breath. As soon as she did, Alana immediately began to scan the crowd that had already gathered for her family.

"Mom! MOM! Dad! Grandma!" She wheezed through labored breath as she tried to dig through the pile for signs of life.

"Relax Killer... they're not under there," Boyd assured her and then pointed to an area outside of her periphery.

Alana flipped around, at once relieved to see her family safe, but terrified as they had been forced to their knees...

...and at none other than Faye's feet.

The beautiful Kenner sympathizer held her head turned away from her secret love out of shame. She was desperately trying to fight back her tears by biting at her lip.

As her ability to breath fully returned, Alana called out to her family once again, "are you guys ok?!"

"We... were not hurt," her father replied, but the shaking in Bennett's voice betrayed his desire to remain strong for his loved ones.

"So... Killer, it appears we have quite a bit to discuss," Boyd's voice erupted from far too close for comfort above and behind her. Alana whipped back around at his demand, finding his pimply face close enough to reach out and touch. "Seems you've been quite the busy little bee, haven't you?" The giant enforcer's voice oozed snark and confidence. Before standing back up to his full, intimidating height, Boyd flicked Alana across the face so hard that it made her eye blacken and swell.

"Please! Don't hurt her," her mother Evelyn screamed at the playfully mean-spirited giant.

"Faye! Put that little bitch back in line!" Boyd ordered sternly, breaking the cool, calculating demeanor he was trying to maintain for long enough to show the true shades of his insanity.

The conflicted Faye hesitated for a moment, but knew she had to maintain her cover... despite how Alana may feel about her. She still believed in the cause, their recent argument hadn't soured that. As much as it pained her to do so, she kicked Evelyn in the back, sending the smaller woman falling forward onto her face. Faye took a step forward and placed a bare foot on the tiny woman's back, nearly covering its length with her sole. She made sure she only applied as much pressure as was necessary to hold Evelyn in place, but not crush her spine.

"Faye! No! Please don't hurt my mom!" Alana's voice cracked with fear. After the fight the night before, she was certain Faye had turned on her.

The hurt compounded in Faye's heart, more so with the thought that Alana would ever think she'd harm her family. Once again, she turned her head away and closed her eyes, concentrating on not revealing her emotions.

Boyd clasped his hands behind his back, tapping his knife against his palm as he strutted over to join Faye at her side. "Do I have your attention now, Killer?"

Alana relented, "yes! Just don't hurt them!"

"You're in no position to give orders here, you puny bitch." Boyd placed his arm around Faye and pulled her closer at the hip as his hand came to rest on it... something that made Faye shudder with disgust. "If I so choose... I can order the lovely Faye here lean forward.. crushing your mother into paste with the slightest of movements. Is that what you want, Killer?"

Each time Boyd used his unofficial nickname for the tiny redhead, it felt more accusatory. He had her right where he wanted her.

"No, please! I'll do anything , just don't hurt my mom! Boyd... Boyd please...," Alana clasped her hands together in front of her face to beg for Boyd's mercy, but in doing so, she lost her balance and tumbled down toward the side of the pile.

Instinctually, Faye wanted to reach out and catch Alana as she fell, but forced herself to hold back, even if it killed her to do so. She held her ground with foot placed firmly on Evelyn's back. No matter what happened, Faye was determined she wasn't going to kill Alana's mother. She hoped Boyd was bluffing... but what if he wasn't? What would happen then?

"You forget your place again, Kenner trash... its 'sir' to you!" Boyd corrected his captive with chin held arrogantly high.

"Sir... yes, sir!" Alana frantically tried to appease the bastard, completely ignoring her own humiliation in doing so, "please... I beg you, sir!"

A triumphant smirk spread across Boyd's face, and then he crouched down. "Alright then, Killer... but only because you asked so nicely." He patted Alana on the head like the good pet he want her to be. He continued, "...but tell you what, Faye here is gonna keep her foot placed right where it is while we have a little chat. This is your only warning... the second you say something I don't like... well.. let's just say your father's gonna have to scrape your mother's remains off the floor with a razor blade. Do I make myself clear, Killer?"

"Yes! Yes, sir!" Alana sat on her knees and hunched over to offer Boyd her absolute submissiveness to his demands.

"Great! Progress! I like it! Who says you can't teach a dumbass Kenner new tricks?!" Alana's tormentor straitened himself out once again and began to pace back and forth in front of her. "Now, we know all about the little uprising you've been planning. We know that you're the one leading it... and... we know that your little girlfriends are involved as well." With the snap of Boyd's fingers, another pair of Mattel guards marched forward and tossed Alana's friends at his feet. "Isn't that right girls?"

Lacey, Sarah and Roberta scurried forward to put some distance between themselves and the men who'd captured them. They'd been dangling upside down in the grasps of Boyd's men since before they set their sights on Alana's house, so the blood that had rushed to their heads left them feeling dizzy and woozy once the world was right side up again.

Boyd continued to twist the proverbial knife in deeper as he continued to gloat. "Trust me when I say we received word of your planned insurrection from a very... credible... source."

There was no more keeping her composure... no longer any reason to maintain the charade. Reflex took over and Alana glared upwards at Faye, knowing it was her that ratted them out.

"You..."
"...you fucking bitch..."
"...how could you?!"

Faye shook her head in response to Alana's emotion-fueled accusation. In fact, the gentle giantess hadn't sold them out at all. She began to open her mouth to deny any involvement, desperately needing Alana to know she would never do such a thing, but the blunt force of the back of Boyd's hand landed brutally against her mouth. It was more than enough to knock her off balance and the mighty giantess crumpled to the floor.

"I fucking knew it," Boyd growled. He stepped on top of Alana's mother himself this time and stared his former lover down. "I knew there's been something off about you, you fucking treacherous cunt!" Once again, he snapped his fingers and then pointed his finger at her, "take this bitch back to the stockroom... we'll deal with her later." Boyd felt hurt and betrayed, but there was no way in hell he was ever going to show it.

With more guards on the way, the young captain shifted the weight he was using to hold Evelyn in place just enough to free up his other leg. With it, he gave Faye a hard kick in the side thigh like a disobedient dog. Meanwhile, Alana's mother shrieked in pain and struggled for air as Boyd's giant heel rolled its significant mass across her spine.

It took four more guards to restrain Faye, who kicked and screamed enough to make their job as difficult as possible. Wire trash ties were wrapped around her wrists and ankles in order to finally subdue her. She could be heard screaming Alana's name throughout The Store as the men dragged back to the Stockroom and her soon-to-be punishment.

"How could she?" Alana cursed Faye under her breath, but Boyd had heard her... and saw it as another opportunity to crush her wilting spirit even further.

The cruel captain of the Mattel army kicked Evelyn out from under his foot and sent her airborne. She flew across the aisle and crashed against the cardboard exterior of another home. The initial impact was soft, but she landed awkwardly on her arm when she fell to the floor. With an audible snap, excruciating pain shot up Evelyn's forearm. Alana wanted to scream her mother's name, but held her tongue... worried that Boyd might do the same to another person she cared about.

"What was that again, Killer?" Boyd asked mockingly. "You think Faye sold you out?! Ha! Guess again, shrimp."

Alana shook her head without looking up from the floor, feeling ashamed for mistakingly outing Faye the way she had. There was only one other group she thought she couldn't trust, "those fucking Hasbros."

Hearing her mother's cries was agonizing, and Alana wanted nothing more than to rush to her side, but Boyd would certainly make her pay if she did. He was testing her. Her mother's screams felt like daggers to her heart, but the psychopathic titan was clearly itching to do far worse.

"Wrong again," he exclaimed with sinister glee. "I'll give you one more guess... and if you get it right, I won't exile... EVERYONE you love. I'll even give you a little hint... it's one of those three."

Boyd knelt down and placed his finger under Alana's chin to direct her view where he desired it... at her friends. Each of them were sitting on their knees as well, their hands tied behind their backs with more wire ties.

"Go on then, Killer... which one is it? Your loved ones' well being is counting on it."

Boyd ordered his men to pull their captives hair back so they were forced to look Alana in the eye. Each of them also had blades, forged of jagged aluminum, held to their throats for more insurance. Alana didn't believe Boyd's accusation for a second... he had to be fucking with her. The four of them trusted each other like they were family. They wouldn't...

"Stalling will only make me impatient," Boyd pressed, "I don't like to have my time wasted."

Alana's tears flowed so freely and heavily that her vision became clouded. She looked to Lacey first. The tall beauty was crying just as hard as she, but it was fear written across her face, not guilt. Next was Sarah. The hurt in the little blonde's eyes, wondering how Alana could ever even contemplate her disloyalty... it certainly wasn't her either.

Lastly, there was Rob... and the disheveled girl couldn't even look at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head turned slightly away. Tears were raining down her cheeks.

"Roberta?" Alana asked shakily and confounded.

"What'd ya know, boys!" Boyd laughed and clapped his hands together, nudging his cohorts to do the same. "She got it! Congratulations, Killer!"

"I'm sorry!" Rob blubbered. "They caught me sneaking home last night! They said they'd exile my family if I didn't talk... my parents, Alana! My little brother! I'm so sorry!" Rob's apologetic pleas decayed into whimpering tremolo.

Alana dropped her head and sighed in defeat.

Anyone else might have berated Roberta for turning them in, but not Alana. It broke her heart... but she understood Rob's motivations. She couldn't fault the girl for trying to save the ones she loved. The only question now was... was it too late to save her own family?

"Everything in order here, Boyd?" A new voice had entered the stage, a surprising one to hear out on the Salesfloor. Alana raised her head to greet the looming arrival of Conrad Hartman himself, staring down at her triumphantly.

"Yes gramps," Boyd replied, sounding more subservient than anyone had head him before. "Just having a little fun before we haul this criminal and her family off to be exiled."

"We're here to enforce the law, boy... not to create a spectacle," Conrad scorned... a surprising thing for someone who'd ordered a public execution to say, for sure. "Just have these criminals taken away already."

"Wait! Please!" Alana desperately pleaded. "You said you'd spare my family, why are you taking them?!"

Boyd snickered as he responded, "I said I wouldn't take EVERYONE you loved. Your friends overmthere are free to go. They can thank the dark-haired one for that." Boyd knelt down one last time so he could really enjoy Alana's reaction to what he was about to say. "I told you the last time you fucked up that I'd take your mother... did you think I was jerking you off? I'm keeping that promise, Killer... but what you've done is far worse than just hoarding food. I'm afraid your mother just won't cover the price anymore."

"Boyd, please don't do this!" Alana begged.

"Killer... you forgot to call me 'sir' again." Boyd raised his fingers above his head and snapped them for a third time. Two more Mattel guards approached Alana's parents, each with an ankle sock in hand. The giants threw the socks them over the tiny couple like foot-shaped bags and hauled them away before their begging daughter could get another word in.

Alana couldn't say anything more... to be honest, there wasn't much left to say. Her jaw hung slack and her body shook violently in the early stages of shock. Her parents were gone, doomed to exile... and it was all her fault.

"Aaawwe... don't worry, Killer... you'll be reunited with mommy and daddy soon enough," Boyd teased. One of his subordinates handed him a sock of his own and he stepped forward to drop it over the beaten Kenner.

"Wait!" Alana pleaded once more, "I accept my responsibility for what I've done. I'll go willingly. May I ask one request before I go... sir?"

"Who the fuck are you to make requests, traitor," one of the guards sneered.

"Now, now," Constable Hartman stepped in and hushed the anonymous guard, "back in the old days, prisoners would receive one last meal before they were put to death. Certainly we can oblige a simple request, as long as it is in fact simple, right little Nelson girl?"

"Thank you, sir," Alana felt disgusted with herself for having to show gratitude to the man who was about to exile her family. "May I please say goodbye to my friends?"

"Fuck that shit," Boyd scoffed. He instantly received a back hand from Conrad for speaking out of turn, something that Alana couldn't help but enjoy witnessing... at least a little, given what was transpiring.

"Go on then," Conrad accepted, "make it quick."

Alana sprung to her feet and darted towards the others. With a wave of Conrad's hand, the guards lording over the three Kenner girls removed their bonds and set them free. Once allowed to do so, Lacey launched herself into Alana's arms like a spring.

"This is so fucked up," Lacey sobbed, "I can't believe this is happening."

"It's ok, Lacey. I... just have to go. Stay strong for for the others... and don't give up." It was hard to fully grasp in the moment... that she actually had to say goodbye to her three comrades... that she'd never see them again. Ala needed to make it count for something. "You're a special person, Lacey. Whether they realize it or not, people are drawn to you... I know I was. Please take care of our friends, they'll need your kindness and your leadership."

Alana pushed herself from Lacey's desperate embrace so she could face the little weeping blonde... whom she loved like a sister. Of the three, saying goodbye to Sarah would be the hardest. "Sare-bear... you're so talented. You're so much smarter than people give you credit for. You always manage to think in ways others don't, and that is a rare gift." Alana took Sarah's hands in her own, the tears nearly choking her words in her throat, "you will always be my closest and dearest friend... I love you, Sarah." Alana kissed Sarah on the forehead, like so many times before... then reluctantly stepped away.

Then there was Roberta.

With the girl she had betrayed standing directly in front of her, Roberta completely broke down. She dropped to her knees and pawed at Alana's legs, begging for forgiveness. Her apologetic wailing could be heard from the far end of the aisle, "I'm so sorry, Alana! I'm so sorry!"

Alana had no intention of filling the last moments she had with any of her friends with spite and animosity, not even for someone who had just condemned her to death. She immediately dropped to her knees and hugged Rob firmly and honestly. "It's ok Rob... you made the right decision."

Rob shoved Alana away as hard as she could in response, "goddamnit! Can't you just scream at me?! I don't deserve your goddamn sympathy! Just fucking hate me! HATE ME!" She angrily cried.

"I don't hate you, Rob... and I never will. You were forced into an impossible situation... and you had to make a choice. You chose your family, it was the right thing to do." Alana pulled Roberta towards her again at the neck until their foreheads met. "I'm not some kind of messiah, Rob... I'm just a person like any other... like you. Our cause is so much bigger than just me."

"Theres no one like you, Alana," Rob whimpered, sniffing her tears away. She leaned in closer so she could whisper something in Alana's ear. "I... I didn't tell them about the boom-sticks."

Alana placed a hand on Rob's cheek and forced a grin through her broken heart, "good girl. Thank you, Rob."

"Time's up, Killer," Boyd announced, not liking that there were things being whispered among the tinies that he wasn't privy to.

Alana couldn't choke back the tears any longer. She let them flow freely as Sarah and Lacey joined her and Rob in one last mournful group hug. As soon as they let her go, a yellow sock came down over Alana's body and she was whisked away like she had never been there.

The entire aisle had gathered by this point, and there wasn't a dry eye left among them. Boyd approached the last of the Nelson clan... Keri herself... with sock in hand to take her away as well. She was still kneeling on the floor, a position that caused unbearable pain to pulse through her deformed leg. She was in so much shock... taken with so much guilt by the events she had just witnessed, that she could not yet begin to process it. The shadow of the sock hung over her, but she was so lost in the moment that she didn't even know it was there.

"Leave the old woman," Conrad ordered.

"What?!" Boyd barked in surprise. "I thought-"

"She's just an old woman, she's harmless," Conrad stated calmly.

"But you said-," Boyd began before getting cut off.

"Do as you're told boy! Besides, you have... other things... to see to. Understand?" Conrad winked at his grandson, who instantly got the message. A devious grin spread across Boyd's face in wordless response. "Go on then," Conrad ordered, "inform the others. I'll finish up here."

Boyd raised his fist in salute, followed with the inevitable 'above all' mantra, then took off through the winding pathways of the aisle.

"The rest of you are free to go as well," Conrad waved away the remaining guards. "And as for you Kenners, please return to your homes. There's nothing left to see here, but rest assured, there will be punishment for aiding and abetting known terrorists. I can't say which of you are responsible or not... and none of you would ever tell me if you were. So, the punishment will have to be enforced Storewide.

Conrad placed his hands behind his back and recalled something from his childhood, "my mother grew up in a family of seven kids. She used to tell me that when one of her siblings did something wrong, they all received a beating from the buckled end of their father's belt. When she finally got the courage to ask him why... he told her it was the only way he could be sure he punished the right one."

The people hung on Conrad's every breath as he announced his penalty.

"A month... there will be no rations for a month. That should be long enough to get your attention."

Lacey's father Tyrone stepped forward on behalf of his people once again, "a month! But we'll most certainly starve to death!"

"Make it two then," Conrad smirked. "Would you like to try for three?"

Tyrone gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but backed off before Conrad showed just how cruel he really could be.

"Well then... off you go, little ones." Conrad shooed the crowd towards their homes until they finally dispersed.

The old man finally had what he really wanted... a moment alone with Keri... something he'd wanted for years. He crouched down in front of her quivering shell of a body, feeling triumphant and satisfied.

"Been a long time, Keri," he began. "How's that leg of yours been treating ya?"

Keri didn't respond. She was too dazed to even hear the man.

"Listen, you and I both know that you're the one who's really behind all of this. That's why I'm letting you live... and that's exactly what I'm doing... isn't it? LETTING you live. You and I both know that life outside the store may as well be a death sentence."

Conrad eased himself down more comfortably and propped his arms on a single knee... wanting to savor the moment for what it really was, more than just the first pawns taken in a real life game of chess. He had taken the Queen!

"I want you to know that I take no pleasure in what I'm about to do to your family," he lied. "But... what it's going to do to you, well... I do find that quite pleasurable."

Suddenly Conrad's demeanor resembled that of his insane grandson more than that of the stoic official he had spent so many years pretending to be. It's as if he was... removing a mask. He leaned forward, making sure Keri felt the ominousness of his superior size... ensuring she knew who was in charge.

"When you go to sleep at night, Keri Nelson... when you wake up in the morning... and every hour of every day from this moment forth... you'll be alone. When you walk back into your empty home... you'll know it's your fault they're gone. Your daughter... her husband... and your beautiful granddaughter... they're all going to die and all because of you. Yes Keri, I find that quite pleasurable, indeed."

Keri still couldn't speak. She just held still on all fours, glaring at the imperfections in the tile beneath her, unconsciously trying to find order in the patterns within... like if she did, it would reset order in her own life. That's when she could feel Conrad's humid, foul breath on the back of her neck. He had gotten terrifyingly close, but she couldn't get away... because everything he was saying was right.

Conrad's cruel musings had shrunk to a whisper. The final dagger he intended to plunge into his captive audience wasn't for anyone's ears but hers... and boy, was it a doozy. "I'd like to think that you'd learned to keep that big mouth of yours shut, Keri... but you obviously haven't changed. It was Alan that paid the price the last time, wasn't it?"

The hairs on Keri's neck stood on end and her clenched fists tightened until they turned white. Conrad's taunting confession wasn't information she didn't already know in her heart, but to hear him admit it...

"If it's any consolation, I hadn't intended to kill the man that night. That coffee can was meant for you, bitch. But as I stand here now, looking at you quaking on your hands and knees... I'm glad I missed... it would have robbed me of this precious moment."

"Rrrraaaaaaaaaaaaahaahhhha!" In a flash of movement almost unthinkable for someone her age, Keri sobered out of her stupor and nearly shattered her teeth as she clenched her jaw shut. She erupted from the floor, mustering every once of strength she had left in her body. With clasped hands, the old woman slammed them as hard as she could against the side of the giant nose looming above her. Even though she was less than a fourth of Conrad's size, she conjured enough force in that moment of sheer, undiluted rage to break the bastard's snout. She may have grown old, but frail she was not.

Conrad fell backwards into an box of Kleenex that housed a young couple, sending it skidding across the floor with its occupants still inside. The gigantic man fumed, clutching at his throbbing sniffer as blood began to trickle from the nostrils. "Ooooh... you... little... bitch!"

With a swift kick of his foot, Keri's feet left the floor. She landed at the base of the pile of amenities emptied from her own home. Her head concussed on impact and narrowly avoided breaking her bum leg all over again. The last remaining member of the Nelson clan was out cold.

Conrad clamored to his feet. He was in pain, and that pain fueled a rage most had never been unfortunate enough to witness. He rushed to where Keri was laying and began to raise his foot to crush her into oblivion, only halting upon seeing she had been knocked unconscious. It would be such a waste to stamp her out if she wasn't conscious enough to feel every last bone in her body break at once, and to delight in her exquisite throws of death.

"Just you wait... you little cunt... if you think you've seen hell... you ain't seen nothin' yet." He snorted some phlegm into his throat and spit the slimy wad at the unconscious woman before storming back towards the Stockroom.

The entire Mattel army, lead by Captain Boyd, was already emptying onto the Salesfloor before their dear Constable's safe return...




End Chapter Twenty-Four

[AB23]

I might need counseling after this tbh…

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

I might need counseling after this tbh…

Yeeeeeeaah… you might wanna buckle up for the next few chapters

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Five-"Everyone Breaks"




A sharp, throbbing pain coursing through her jaw brought Faye out of a miserable sleep. Feeling around inside her mouth with her tongue for the source of the pain, she could feel that one of her molars had come loose. "Fuckers must have knocked me out," she grumbled to herself. With a slight push of the tongue, the offending tooth popped out of its socket and she spit it, along with a mouthful of blood, onto the floor.

She was still bound, but not like a wild hog as before. Her wrists were tied to the ends of a flat, but coarse wooden plank of some kind... her feet tied together at the ankles. She was tied to a cross, just like those poor Kenners her former boyfriend had murdered in cold blood. Faye wondered if the same was to be her fate... blown to smithereens in front of the entire population of The Store as a shinning example of what happens when you betray the Mattels.

Awareness of her surroundings began to fill in the disoriented cracks, as Faye realized she was in the Stockroom, but not quite sure where. It was dark, and the air was filled with such an intense, foul, and nauseating mixture of smells. Bands of light shone in through cathedral-like glass doors, only the tops of which were visible from her vantage point, providing just enough light to see that the walls were made of stainless steel.

She had to be inside the cooler... or even the freezer. It was the only thing that made sense. Access to the freezer could only be made from inside the cooler itself. It was the only space off limits to anyone except the higher ups... not even the office, where they slept, was as off limits. Permission had to be granted, and seldom was... but just as seldom requested as the smell alone was enough of a deterrent. The perfect place for someone like Conrad to work in secret.

"I must be somethin' special," she quipped, despite the pain.

"Not at all, my dear Faye," Conrad's disembodied voice echoed. The man, the myth himself stepped out of the shadows into one of the the casted beams so Faye could look upon his face. "...you're just in very... very serious trouble."

"No shit," she mumbled, spitting another mouthful of blood onto the floor. This time, most of it just dribbled down her chin.

"This is no game, Faye," Conrad assured her. "Do you have any idea of the seriousness of your crimes?"

"Well," she panted, "since you're the one makin' the rules up as you go along... I'd imagine... less than acceptable."

"Enjoy sassing me while you can, young lady...," Conrad cautioned, "you'll be begging me for mercy soon enough."

"Don't talk to me like child," Faye scolded, spitting another wad of blood and snot at Conrad's feet. "Whatever you're gonna do... just get on with it. Fucking kill me already! The less I have to endure your bullshit the better!"

Conrad chuckled with amusement, "if only you could get off that easy, my dear." He stepped towards her and squeezed a thick pinch of her cheek between his fingers, "you're going to suffer... oh how you're going to suffer."

"Fuck you," Faye spat and drooled the words as he clenched her face in his hands like a vice.

Conrad laughed once again, slapping Faye's cheek teasingly, before turning his back to her. "How do you like your restraints, Faye? Comfortable? I'm afraid popsicle sticks aren't quite large enough for people of our stature. What you're tied to right now were once used to mix paint... disposable tools for a disposable society, meant to be used and thrown away. But now... now they serve a far grander purpose... as instruments of your reckoning. I assure you though... they aren't the only ones."

Just then, another figure emerged from the darkness, one she knew all to well... Tony.

"Ah! Tony my boy," Conrad beamed as he embraced the young man, "so glad to have you here! Are you ready to begin?"

"I can't wait," Tony replied with a devious grin.

"Faye, my dear, did you know our mutual friend here has quite a natural talent for extracting information from those who wish to keep it from me?" Conrad put his arm around Tony's shoulders and shook him affectionately.

"Not surprising. He's also proficient at licking your grandson's asshole," Faye taunted.

"Watch your goddamn mouth!" Tony screamed. "I'll cut your fucking tongue out!"

Faye's laugh may have sounded exhausted, but it still felt good to be able to. God knows it could've been her last chance to feel what laughter felt like. "I figured Boyd would have got the honors of torturing me."

"I'm sure he would have loved to," Conrad replied, "but the boy's pretty upset right now... you really broke his heart, young lady. As for me, I need information... and an emotional young man may end up killing you before I get it."

"So I get stuck with Boyd's lapdog instead of a real man who knows how to treat a lady," Faye continued to taunt.

"Are you gonna let me cut this bitch up or not?!" Tony might have been getting too emotional himself, something Faye was hoping to take advantage of.

"Now now, Tony... don't let her get under your skin," Conrad calmed his accomplice. "She isn't going anywhere. Feel free to take your time with her."

It was Tony's turn to laugh.

Conrad approached the captive woman once again, "The 'CIA' is a term most likely alien to you, my dear... but I suppose that doesn't really matter all that much. In the old days they were the US government's covert spy agency of sorts... that's what you fancy yourself as, right? A spy?"

Faye didn't answer, mostly just hoping the blowhard would get to his fucking point before the sound of his voice made her vomit.

"All you need to know about the CIA is that they were experts at what were called 'enhanced interrogation techniques.' They could extract information from anyone, because as any employee who worked for the organization would tell you... everyone has their limit."



"Everyone breaks... Faye."



Conrad followed his dramatic pause with an offer. "Now, as far as that quick death you so desire is concerned, we might be able to oblige you... if..."

"...if what?" Faye spitefully asked.

"If you tell us the names of the other spies," he replied.

Faye hadn't thought about the others until just then. How did he know there were more? He couldn't... the son-of-a-bitch had to be bluffing.

"It's just me," she lied.

"Don't insult my intelligence, Faye my dear. You were a surprise for sure, but I know there are others who don't want to get in line.... who don't share our... vision. Tell me who they are and save yourself a whole world of suffering."

Faye held her ground, "there's no one else. I'm the only one who could see through your bullshit, apparently."

At that moment, Conrad walked away to retrieve something hidden in the darkness, something that had been obscured from Faye's vision throughout the conversation. He tossed it unceremoniously in her direction, rolling unevenly across the filthy floor towards her. It crashed against the paint stick beneath her feet... only then could the captive woman make out the ghastly thing for what it was...

...Donovan's severed head.

His light blonde locks were unmistakable, though now stained pink and matted in place with blood. The terror he felt in his final moments was still frozen on his face. The cut along his neck where it had been separated from his body was jagged and rough. This wasn't the work of a clean, swift cut... the horrible reality was that Tony had slowly sawed the boy's head off while he was still alive.

Faye released a blood curdling scream. Tony laughed like a man possessed. Conrad... remained stoic and in control.

"He was impressive, I'll give him that," Conrad admitted, then gave the head a little kick. "He too told us he was alone in his actions. You should be proud of him though, the boy suffered unimaginably... but he never talked. Are you that strong, Faye my dear?" Conrad smirked at her, knowing in his gut he was going to get exactly what he wanted.

"Alana was right... you are a fucking monster." This time when the blood had filled her mouth up enough, she spit it directly into Conrad's kisser.

Conrad wiped the gore and saliva from his face on the end of his robe and walked away, back into the dark from whence he came, looking a little too pleased with himself. "She's all yours, Tony."

And with that, the old man disappeared, leaving Tony to his work.

Tony approached Faye with a strut, his smile beaming so wide it might break his face. Even his crooked, yellowing teeth appeared to be too large for his mouth. Faye was elevated just enough above the ground to give Tony a perfect eye-level view of her exposed breasts.

"I have to confess something, lovely... lovely Faye... I've always been jealous of Boyd for getting to touch you... for getting to be with you. You're so beautiful... all I've ever wanted is to be alone with you. And now... wouldn't you know it?! Here we are!" The creep pressed his face between Faye's breasts and breathed in deep, fondling her fleshy mounds with both hands in the process.

"Cut me down from here and I'll make it worth your wild," the crafty woman tried to bargain, not really expecting him to fall for it... but trying couldn't land her in any worse of a situation than the one she was already in.

Abruptly, Tony pinched her nipples as hard as he could, twisting them violently over and over again. Faye shrieked in pain, eliciting yet more snickering from her former friend turned tormentor.

"Oh... a simple blowjob won't satiate my needs, Faye my darling. My tastes are far more... unique. You see, I don't really care if you confess or not... either way, I'm going to have my fun. When you finally give in... and I assure you... you will give in, it'll make Constable Hartman happy... and in turn, he'll reward me. It's all win-win for me, baby!"

"You couldn't break a sweat, Tony," Faye taunted some more.

Tony smirked once again, "like the good Constable says, everyone breaks."

"Donovan didn't," she countered.

"Donovan bored me," Tony replied.

"That's funny, because I would have sworn he was more your type... Boyd always was." At this point, Faye was just hoping she could piss him off just enough to make a mistake. If nothing else, perhaps he'd kill her quickly in a fit of rage.

Tony responded to the helpless woman's teasing with a blunt punch to her ribs.

"Fuck you, you, you, you fucking bitch!" Tony screamed directly into her face, spraying her with his spit. "You're the fucking lesbo here!"

He continued pummeling Faye's abdomen like a punching bag. She tried to brace herself from his onslaught, but was certain he'd managed to crack or even break her ribs. The air was forced from her lungs and she began gasping for air.

"Think you're so funny now, do ya?!" Tony repeatedly screamed at her. Over and over again he beat on her stomach like a prizefighter wailing on a bag. Faye's gasps for air grew more intense and labored. "Ah! Still laughing, I see! Well, if you're still having fun... why stop now?!"

For another twenty minutes Tony beat Faye like a piece of meat that needed tenderizing. The Mattel defector wanted to give in so badly, but she wasn't about to give this son of a bitch the satisfaction. She let him bruise her up until he finally got winded himself. The sicko sat down in front of her and enjoyed a refreshing bottle cap full of water.

"So... bitch," he panted, "you ready... to chat yet?"

Faye couldn't ignore the pain, any small motion sent bolts of it shooting through her entire body. If they weren't before, Tony had most certainly broken her ribs now, making breathing harder than ever. Still, she wasn't going to give in, not to Tony of all people.

"Musta... really... hit a nerve... with you... there," she panted. "Why don't you... just... tell Boyd... how you... really feel... about him?" It wasn't smart to keep 'poking the bear,' as the old-timers say, but if the revolution was indeed over, no one else was going to die... not because of her. If that meant she had to pay this price, then so be it.

There was one thing the battered beauty had to focus on... one thing to give her strength... Alana. The little redhead may not have loved her anymore... even hated her, but Faye still loved Alana with all her heart. If Alana had indeed been exiled, Faye hoped she was ok on the outside, even if that hope wasn't particularly realistic.




Alana...

Alana...

Alana...




Faye chanted the name over and over in her head, hoping that alone would give her strength enough to endure Tony's relentless torture. A prayer to the only thing Faye truly believed in.

It was a sharp, biting pain in her thigh that shook her back into reality. Tony was kneeling beneath her with a jagged shard of broken glass. He'd made his first cut and was about to carve another right below the first. Faye screamed in agony as the sharp edge sliced into her once again.


A third cut followed.

Then a fourth...

Then a fifth, making track marks on the inside of her leg.


Faye was bleeding heavily by that point, but Tony wasn't about to let her bleed out and fink out on his fun by dying. He dragged a lone tea light candle that barely lit the surrounding space to just beneath her feet. She could feel the heat of flames licking at her soles, just enough to make her discomfort all the more unbearable. Using the unburnt end of the match, initially spent to light the candle, Tony cauterized Faye's cuts closed. The maddening pain milked another agonizing scream from the poor girl struggling to keep it together... to not give in. Tears poured down her face, while a cocktail of blood and saliva trickled from her chin.

"Still want to play games, Faye?" Tony grazed the inside of her thigh lightly with the tips of his fingers, a sensation Faye found more unpleasant than the torture itself.

"Fuck off and die, Anthony, " Faye groaned. It was so much harder this time, to try and push through it. Perhaps Conrad was right... maybe everyone does have their limit.

"Have it your way, beautiful... we'll just start on the other leg then."

The edge of the olive-colored shard tasted Faye's flesh once again, but her body had had all it could take. As if to save her from the hell she'd found herself in, Faye's mind completely shut down. The extreme nature of what she had to endure finally made her pass out... and that didn't sit well with Tony at all.

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An abrupt deluge of cold water shocked Faye into consciousness once again. She had no way of knowing how long she had been out, but it had only been a half an hour or so. The disorientation was stronger now, and not just because of the unfamiliar surroundings and searing pain. It took her a few seconds through the dizzying nightmare to realize she was actually lying down, but still strapped to the paint-stick crucifix. Tony, of course, was standing over her snickering once again.

"I hope you enjoyed your little break," he taunted, "I still have so many more fun activities planned for us!"

"From this angle... your dick looks even smaller than I would have expected," Faye joked, then coughed violently from a trickle of water that made its way into her lungs. Tony kicked her hard in the side of the head for that one, knocking yet another tooth loose.



Alana...

Alana...

Alana...




"I can't wait for you to experience this next round of 'enhanced interrogation,' Tony began, "the Constable says it was used by the CIA themselves, whoever the fuck they were. He calls it 'water-boarding,' and its supposed to be particularly unpleasant. Imagine the feeling of drowning without the sweet release of death."

Faye spit blood from her mouth and coughed some more. "Sounds refreshing... I could definitely go for a bath right now... and from the stench of your tiny, shriveled balls dangling over my head, you could stand one too."

Tony dropped a tattered cloth over Faye's face before she even finished mocking his genitalia. A device invented early in The Store's history to distribute water to the rest of the Salesfloor was carted over the top of her. The machine was of simple design, essentially just an inverted Coke bottle with a pair of shopping cart wheels rigged to its sides so it could be moved around easily. Dozens of these water carts had been made, but the Mattels had control over all of them. Conrad had altered this particular cart for his own purposes. A valve had been rigged to release a smaller amount water, something to make the victims of the device suffer longer... and that's exactly what Tony was about to do to the poor, helpless Faye.

When the valve was turned and the lukewarm fluid began to drip down onto Faye's face, she tried shaking her head from side to side to relieve herself from the horrible experience, but Tony just held her skull in place between his feet. She gargled and coughed as the water dripped from the bottle, drop after drop. A circle of red began to expand on top of the cloth as the blood from her mouth stained through to the other side. Relief only came when Faye blacked out once more. This time, no amount of water or brute force from Tony could bring her out of it.

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"Did you kill her?" Conrad asked. He and his henchman Tony stood over Faye's seemingly lifeless body with contempt.

"No, I can still feel her pulse, but she's out cold... maybe it's a coma," Tony replied.

"Unfortunate," Conrad stated emotionlessly.

"What do you wanna do with her? Should we just kill her now?" Tony asked with an unnerving amount of enthusiasm.

"No," Conrad began while scratching his bearded chin, "I think we should see if she wakes up... then we'll start again. I wanna know who else is trying to fuck me... er, US over."

Tony leaned down and admired the damaged, but still shapely form of his victim. "You don't wanna just leave her here, do ya boss?" The implication being that Tony wanted to take her limp body home to have his way with.

"No," Conrad thought for a moment, "she may be in bad shape, but she's also a trained soldier of the Mattels. There's always the chance she could escape. Toss her in with the other one and we'll come back after dinner to see if she's ready for more."

The two of them cut Faye free of the cross, then dragged her limp and battered frame towards an old metal toolbox that Conrad had moved into the freezer, god knows how many years ago. Just as the creaking lid clanked open, Faye opened one of her eyes. She awoke just before the evil duo started dragging her actually, but was doing her best to play possum. She thought for a moment that she could use the opportunity to escape, but her body hurt far too much to stand a chance against the two of them combined.

A curious sight did catch her eye before they lifted her over the edge of the rectangular container. The outside of the box was very old and very beat up from use. The fire engine red paint had begun chipping many years before the Rapture even occurred. But it was in these splotches of grey, bare metal where Faye saw something very disturbing... little red hand prints. There were dozens of them, and they were smeared all across the inner walls in what could only have been dried blood.

"Why don't you come back to the office with me, Tony my boy," Conrad offered as casually as if dumping a prisoner into a metal cage was as normal as empty conversation. "Fat Ben and Boyd are going to join me for some leftover lunch, there should be plenty of meat to go around."

"Wow! Thank you, sir! It'd be an honor," Tony replied enthusiastically.

"It's just dinner, son... not an accommodation," Conrad joked. "Afterwards we can see if our little traitor here has finished her nap."

Faye felt her legs flip over her head as she fell face first into the metal box with a thump and splat, the bottom of the box feeling sticky and wet to the touch. Even more unpleasant than the tactile surface was the horrendous odor it gave off. The lid slammed closed on top of her and the exhausted prisoner leaned back and embraced the break from Tony's undesirable attention in complete and utter darkness. She tried to right herself, but every motion she made caused her wounds to announce themselves once again. Propped up against the wall, she closed her eyes and began plotting her escape.

Strangely... thoughts of the stories of James Bond began to pop into her head instead. She wondered if the master agent himself ever had to endure this level of shit in any of his adventures. Or if, like the stories always seemed to end, he always just managed to come out on top, a drink in hand and a woman in bed.

"You can keep the spy business, Mr. Bond. I've had my fill," Faye said to herself out loud.

A sniffle and a whimper from somewhere else in the pitch black startled Faye into realizing she wasn't alone. "H-Hello? Who's there?" Faye whispered, hoping Tony and Conrad weren't right outside the walls, listening.

More whimpering reverberated against the sides of the claustrophobic enclosure. It was more than that though, someone was sobbing... even muttering something to themselves.

"It's ok, I won't hurt you... are you ok?" Faye found herself more concerned with this person's well being than her own all of a sudden. As a Mattel soldier, she had been trained to endure pain, but she couldn't say the same about whoever she was sharing her cell with.

As the muttering and crying continued, Faye realized it was for good reason. She knew that voice as well as she knew her own... a voice she wasn't sure she would ever get to hear again...



Alana....

Alana?

"Alana?!"




End Chapter Twenty-Five

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Six-"The Toolbox"




"Alana? Is that really you?!" Faye repeated herself several times with no answer. The closest thing to a response she received was more muffled whimpering. "It's ok... if you're hurt, I'll come to you."

Ignoring her own unfathomable pain, Faye felt a new rush of adrenaline that helped her fight through her own suffering... all that mattered was finding Alana. She felt her way along the rusty walls through the complete darkness of the toolbox's belly, scooting herself through the thick, sludgy substance coating the floor. The lid was too low for a Mattel to be able to stand up straight, not that she had the energy to do so anyway. The sobbing sounds bounced off the walls making it hard to pinpoint their source, but she just kept going until the hand she was using to brace herself accidentally grazed a tiny foot.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The little woman screamed at the larger's very touch.

Faye reflexively recoiled her hand at the surprising shriek. One thing was for sure, it WAS Alana's voice. Faye was so relieved to have Alana there with her that she completely forgot about their argument, reaching out to embrace her beloved. The second her hands touched Alana's back though, the tiny redhead released another scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Faye recoiled once again, then tested her touch once more on the terrified creature. Her fingers cautiously met the clammy skin of Alana's ankle, eliciting another horrified yell from her.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

More than awaking strapped to a crucifix, Faye was worried. "Alana?! It's me, Faye... what's wrong?! Are you hurt?!"

Faye tried to reach her arms around her fellow captive once more, taking care not to frighten her any more. She could tell Alana was crouched over and clutching at her knees like a frightened animal in the corner of the steel box. Alana's body shivered beneath the lightest touch of the giantess's fingertips. Her skin felt moist and tiny goosebumps dotted its surface. Any slight contact from Faye's hands made Alana tense up and scream again.

"PLEASE! DOOOOON'T...."

"Alana? It's just me... it's just your Faye," the larger of the two continued to try and calm the smaller.

Then, Alana screamed the most peculiar thing of all, "PLEASE DON'T EAT ME!"

Faye was taken aback. Why would she say that?! Why would she even think it?! "Alana... it's me, Faye... you know I would never hurt you." She wanted nothing more than to take Alana in her arms and try to comfort her, but Alana would just come unglued every time she'd try... and now that Faye was closer, she could finally make out what Alana was mumbling.

"Mommy... daddy... mommy... daddy... I'm sorry... mommy...," like some incantation, Alana repeated the words over and over, rocking in place and crying.

"Alana... what happened? What did they do to you?" Faye was afraid to ask the next question, but she forced herself to do so anyway... Alana was scaring her that much, "where... where are your parents?"

"I-I'm s-o-o sor-ry-ee-ee," Alana cried even louder in anguished tremolo.

"Did they... exile them? Did Conrad force your parents out of The Store?" Faye continued to question, but was answered with more of the same.

"WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY! WHYYYYYYYYYYY-Y-Y-y-y-y," Alana bawled.

Faye then tried to feel for Alana hands, hoping that maybe she could comfort her traumatized love by holding them.

This time... Alana snapped back, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

Faye pulled her hand away like she was avoiding getting it caught in a trap. She reflexively scooted away to give Alana some space... her heart breaking all over again. The fiery redhead was obviously still angry with her... and she must blame her for her predicament... at least that's how Faye interpreted it. The truth was far... far more unnerving.

Alana, even in her worst moments, had never acted so hysterical... what exactly had they done to her? And still, what had happened to her parents? Faye wasn't getting any answers from Alana, so the bruised and battered Mattel decided to sit tight and calmly try to talk to her miniature companion. Even if Alana wouldn't respond.... even if she no longer trusted the woman who would've given her life for her. Faye didn't know how much time either of them had left... and she had no intention of wasting a second of it.

The Mattel settled in, allowing her muscles to lax with her long legs stretched out in front of her. Unconsciously, the pain began to worm its way back in. There would be no reason to hold back her tears. Any minute... the lid of the tool box could swing open and she would be dragged away and tortured to death. So... Faye took a deep breath... and poured out her heart.

"I'm sorry, Alana," she began, "I'm sorry I allowed you to lose your trust in me. I know I'm still ignorant as to why, but I guess that's the difference in our upbringings. From what I can tell, everything about the way I was brought up, the way I was taught, the things I was told were truth... it's all bullshit... so why wouldn't 'that' be bullshit as well?"

Faye wiped her tears across her forearm, feeling the sticky residue from the floor smear across her face instead.

"We are told from childhood that Mattels are supposed to be superior in every way to those smaller than us, even quarantining ourselves in this dark, musty old Stockroom so we wouldn't have to interact with 'lower' beings such as yourself." Faye chuckled, but sadly at the thought, "you know, I never even saw a sunrise until you came into my life? The Stockroom... the Mattels... the mission, that's all there was. Train... propaganda... train... propaganda. That was life... that... was my purpose."

Faye turned her head into the dark space where Alana was hidden, finding it increasingly difficult to control her emotions. She just wanted to see her... that would be enough... before she had to face the music. When that lid flipped open, maybe... maybe there'd be enough light to at least make out Alana's shape balled up in the corner... that would be nice.

"... and then I saw what they did to you, to your mother... and I knew it was wrong. It went against everything I'd been taught, but I knew it was wrong. And then... I got to know you, Alana... and you changed me. You made me a better person, just like every other life you've ever touched."

Faye began to sob with her heart so full it could no longer hold back the flood of emotion. There had still been no response from the tiny cowering girl in the darkness.

"All I wanted was to spend the rest of my days with you. Until my dying breath... which unfortunately... may be coming sooner rather than later. I love you, Alana Nelson... of 17... whatever you wanna call yourself. I wanna marry you and grow old with you and... and know what it is to mourn you when time takes you from me."

Suddenly, the significance of their argument hit Faye like a ton of bricks. This is why Alana was frightened and angry with her, because people needed to grieve their lost loves, and all the Mattels had done is consume them like rations. Faye never had the opportunity to mourn her own parents, who were taken from her not that long before she began training. Their bodies were carted off and prepared for the rest of the Mattels to consume... and that was it. Faye felt sick to her already aching stomach and tried to purge, but nothing came. She fell back against the wall and closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate.

"I guess if this is it... if this is the end for us... I'm glad I at least got to share this awful cage with you. I can go in peace, I suppose... just," Faye hesitated to even ask, "even if you don't love me any more... please... please don't hate me, Alana. I can take all the punishment Conrad Hartman and Tony have to dish out... but I can't die thinking that you hate me..."

Faye finally broke down and let go completely. She held her face in her hand and cried like it was the last time. Her echoing whimpers drowned out those of Alana's significantly as they reverberated off the metal walls.

Then, something unexpected happened....

Faye's free hand was still bracing her weight against the floor... and it was this hand that felt tiny fingers wrapping themselves around her pinky. It startled her, but she didn't try to shake them off. Alana was reaching out. Faye knew her touch, just as she'd known her voice. She leaned over and placed a hand on Alana's back.

"PLEASE! DON'T!" Alana cried out again. Her back stiffened and she continued to tremble... but... she held her grip on Faye's finger, even clenching it tighter.

She was trying.

Like a fire relit inside her, Faye was not about to give up, not while there was still love to be shared between them... not if there was chance of a future life together. Alana may have been traumatized to the point of incoherence, but she was still inside that shell of herself. That simple, loving touch was all Faye needed...

"We're not dying here, Alana."

Faye lifted Alana's hand to kiss it and then gently pushed it away. She stood up as straight as she could and began to thrust upwards, pushing against the lid with every ounce of strength she had left. Furiously, she threw herself over and over, trying to break the latch free.

"I'm getting you out of here," Faye promised. "Your people need you..."


"...I need you."


Again and again she rammed at the roof of their metal cage, each time harder than the previous. The pain didn't matter anymore... the new pain in her shoulders could wait. Alana's simple act of love had reignited something Faye thought was all but lost...


Hope.


It was all they ever had to begin with... and it would be enough to set them free.




End Chapter Twenty-Six

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Seven-"For Those Whom We Love"




The toolbox was quite old, its hinges rusting and a latch who's screws had worked themselves loose throughout decades of use and abuse... but the lid held firm. That didn't keep Faye from trying... it only made her efforts more intense, more focused. She and Alana may not live through the night, but she'd be damned if they were going wait to die in that rancid box.

It's hard to say how long she fought against the heavy lid, perhaps an hour, perhaps more. The determined Mattel's energy never gave, her will never faltered. The only thing that finally halted her efforts was the rattling of the flipped latch from the outside.

"Fuck," she whispered, somewhat to Alana, but mostly to herself, "he's fucking back already?" Faye squatted in fighting stance, coiling like a viper ready to strike, aching to give Tony the hell he deserved.

When the lid creaked open, Tony was already mid sentence, "... looks like sleeping beauty is finally a-." Before he could finish his thought, Faye sprung from the box like a tripped mousetrap and threw her entire weight at her tormentor. After what he had put her through that day, Tony didn't think Faye capable of a surprise attack. The two of them fell as a result of her forward momentum, collapsing near the base of a mountain of trash. Once on the ground, tony scrambled to get away from his former friend, but Faye moved quicker. Wrapping her arms around the head of Conrad's designated interrogator, the rejuvenated warrior snapped Tony's neck in a single forceful motion... giving him the merciful end that he didn't deserve.

But Tony wasn't alone.

After their dinner with the Constable and his grandson, Fat Ben decided to accompany Tony back to the freezer for some post-meal entertainment. The portly man was interested in watching Tony at work, thanks to Conrad's praise of the boy's talents over supper. Ben wasn't quite the sadist that Tony and Boyd were, but he was developing a taste for it. More importantly, who in their right mind would pass up an opportunity to gaze upon the undraped form of the gorgeous Faye, strung up and helpless nonetheless? Only after watching the very woman he came to gawk at twist his companion's head so violently that the life instantly drained from his body did the burly man have second thoughts.

Ben, for all his blowhardery, was no fighter. The huffing, naked beauty before him glared back, unblinking... sizing him up. It was then that he showed his true colors. "HELP! HELP! SHE KILLED...!" Ben yelled like his life depended on it, which it most certainly did, before tripping backwards over his own feet and onto his blubbery ass. The terrified man continued to cry for help like a frightened child.

Faye, who's instincts were firing on all cylinders, didn't hesitate. She snapped the still dangling aluminum lid of a spent can of tomato sauce from the sea of trash that surrounded them, then charged with a full head of steam toward Ben. Landing on his bulbous stomach with her knees, she knocked the wind right out of him, silencing his pleas for help, then pinned the jagged edge of the aluminum lid against his throat. It drew blood instantly from below his second chin, but she only cut deep enough to secure his attention. Faye's own fingers were bleeding from the force with which she struck.

"Say one more word, fat man, and I'll slice your fucking head off." Faye's stare burned into Ben's eyes like a raging wildfire. He knew she was serious, but an intelligent man Ben was not.

"HELP!"

That would be the last word the bulbous ration man would ever say. Faye lifted the lid with both hands and thrust it downwards... repeatedly. She screamed with rage, giving her the adrenaline push needed to slice through Ben's spinal chord. Blood sprayed over her from his severed jugular and his body twitched violently between her cut and burned legs in its final death throws.

Having finished the gruesome deed, Faye slipped backwards from his chest, breathing hard and shocking even herself with what she was capable of. She tossed the gory lid aside and paused a moment to find her breath. The adrenaline had dulled her pain for the time being, but the sting between her legs and throbbing in her sides were quickly flooding back. She stumbled a little trying to stand back up, but couldn't help relishing the moment... spitting on Tony's still warm corpse with satisfaction. Alana's continued whimpering from inside the box pulled the deadly Mattel woman's head back into the game.

"Hold on, Alana... I'm coming... we're getting the fuck out of here."

There still wasn't much light, even with what little there was coming in through the dirty glass doors of the freezer. It had to be getting close to dark, something that Faye was going to use to her advantage. As each minute passed, the risk of Conrad returning to check on Tony's progress increased. She was sure she could handle the old man, but what if Boyd was with him? As she'd already told Alana, Faye wasn't confident of her abilities against the man who taught her how to fight in the first place. Their sparring matches had been how the two of them grew close in the first place... but that may as well have been ancient history, as far as Faye was concerned.

The blood-streaked giantess rushed to the edge of the toolbox, her heart jumping just at the chance to see her love, but the ground crunched and snapped beneath her bare feet.

Bones.

Mostly human... and entirely Kenner. They were scattered everywhere in the clearing surrounding the toolbox. What kind of horrors had occurred there? Faye hoped it was just the dumping ground for the bones of the dead that the Mattels had consumed... but feared it represented something far more insidious.

A split second thought interrupted Faye's focus, a worry... that she could traumatize little Alana further by approaching her covered in arterial spray... but that worry would prove to be a drop in the bucket compared to the sight that greeted her. Alana was there, still crouched in the corner, rocking back and forth and mumbling the same chant to herself....

"Mommy... daddy... I'm sorry... mommy.... daddy... I'm so sorry..."

The terrorized little Kenner was coated head to toe in the soup of blood and entrails that coated the bottom of the box, all of it in various stages of rot and decay. Even her long hair was saturated with gore. In fact, the greasy, disgusting residue Faye had been feeling beneath her during her own entrapment was blood. It coated the entire floor of the container and was smeared across its walls from those that had been trapped inside before. There were chunks of flesh and bone sparsely floating about the disgusting brownish-red mire.

"Oh my god...," Faye gasped. She looked herself over, realizing that the shot in the face she took of Ben's crimson vein-filler was nothing compared to what she was already coated in. She cautiously crawled back over the edge of the toolbox and inched towards Alana as non threateningly as possible. The disgusting feeling of partially coagulated blood slipping beneath her feet and squishing between her toes made the urge to vomit grow all over again. Faye tried to ignore it... HAD to ignore it.



Alana.

Alana was all that mattered.



The gentle, caring giantess got as close to her tiny friend and lover as she dared, but was careful not to touch her, not until Alana was ready for her to do so. Alana's face was buried between her knees with her arms tightly locking her legs against her chest. A single eye peeked just above a tiny kneecap, wide and wild with primal fear, nearly hidden behind hanging tangled and matted locks. The eye was fixed on Faye, wordlessly begging the larger woman to free her from this living nightmare, something she was mentally and physically unable to do herself. Alana's mind was on the verge of snapping, but buried deep within her maddening fear, a part of her knew Faye would save and protect her... even if she didn't feel she deserved such loyalty after the things she'd said.

She wanted to apologize to Faye, to tell her she loved her... to never let anything come between them again, but the only words that would come out were the same ones she'd been repeating over and over again, "mommy... daddy... mommy... I'm sorry..."

The horrors that had occurred within that box were worse than anything Faye could have imagined, or would ever want to. Reflexively, she clutched her hands to her mouth and began to cry once again, thinking about all those poor Kenners that had met their end there. She pulled her hands away from her face in disgust when she felt the blood coating them touch her lips. She stared at her palms, watching the blood drip and ooze from between her fingertips.


There was so much blood... so much more than just one Kenner could hold...

...so much more than just Alana's parents.


Faye wanted to scream, but the sound wouldn't escape. She looked away from her hands and back to that lone, haunting eye. Alana's reactions had nothing to do with the two of them. The terror-stricken Mattel didn't know the full details yet... those would come soon enough... but by the way Alana intensely stared back at her, Faye knew the poor girl had been forced to watch her parents' murder.


The unfathomable truth of exile.


Of course Alana was a quivering heap, who wouldn't be? But even then, the full extent of Conrad Hartman's crimes against humanity were still shadowy. Faye had a feeling in her gut, but admitting it to herself might drive her to madness as well. The look in Alana's eye was all but enough to confirm it. For now... her emotions, revenge... that all had to wait.


Escape.

Escape was paramount.

Alana... Alana was all that mattered.


"I can't imagine what you've been through," Faye began, completely ignoring the personal hell she'd just been through herself, "but I promise you, Alana... my love... I promise you they will pay. Conrad Hartman will kneel at your feet and beg you for mercy... but right now... right now we have to run. I can carry you, I WILL carry you... but I need you to trust me. You can't scream... if you scream, we're dead. Please trust me, Alana."

Faye placed a hand on Alana's back, and once again Alana tensed up. She let out another roar, but she was clearly making an effort not to scream.

"RRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNNGGGH!"

"Alana listen to me, we don't have a lot of time," Faye tried to hide the panic building inside, wondering how they were ever going to escape if Alana wouldn't let her touch her. It killed her to do so, but the usually calm and collected Mattel just had to say 'fuck it' with the gentle approach. She grabbed Alana by the shoulders, planted her on her feet, and shook the little Kenner like a spoiled child. Firmly holding either side of Alana's head, Faye forced Alana's attention on her.

Alana didn't scream. She looked beyond terrified, but she didn't scream.

"Alana! I need you to snap out of this!" Faye coaxed.

The smaller woman just stared up at her with a vacant, thousand yard stare, like her very soul had been scared from her body.

"Alana! Please!" In her frustration, Faye slapped Alana across the face, an impact anyone would remember when delivered from a hand four times larger than their own. Faye couldn't believe what she'd just done. She clasped her mouth in shock once again, fearing she'd gone too far... that she may have just pushed the traumatized teenager over the edge.

Alana's eyes darted back and forth. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as her slap-tingled face scrunched up in total anguish.

"Alana... I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean...," Faye was at a loss as to what to do next, and the clock just kept ticking.

"Faye?" Alana finally whimpered something back.

The two stared into each other's eyes for an infinity within seconds... then... Alana threw herself into Faye's more than welcoming arms. The tiny Kenner had to leap to do so, but she wrapped her arms around Faye's enormous neck... and never wanted to let go again.

"I'm so sorry Faye," Alana mumbled as she cried against Faye's neckline. "I love you! I love you so much! I'm so sorry!"

Faye held her trembling betrothed against her, feeling the warmth of Alana's love wash over her once again. It was a feeling she never wanted to end. The whole world could've burnt away, leaving just the two of them... and it would've been heaven on Earth. Their love was the sea, vast and all encompassing. The waters could be turbulent at times, but always rich and beautiful.

The sound of Conrad's voice shouting from the distance brought their special moment to a crashing halt. "Tony, my boy! How's it coming with our little turncoat?"

Alana released her grip on Faye's neck and began to shake with fear again. Her eyes widened and pleaded for Faye to do something. The larger of the two peeked over the lip of the toolbox, hoping Conrad would be alone. There was no such luck.

"Fuck. He has Boyd with him," Faye cursed. Aaron was also in tow. "Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...". She turned back to check on Alana, who looked like she was about to fall back into her previous, near-catatonic state.

"Faye... please... don't... don't let them eat me," Alana whimpered.


The hellish truth Faye had been trying to suppress from her thoughts were confirmed... the lie, the threat of exile... it was all a smokescreen.



Constable Conrad Hartman was harvesting the Kenners for food.




"Put your arms around myneck. Let's get the fuck outta here." Faye squatted down so Alana could take hold, she then swung the clinging Kenner around so Alana dangled from her back, just like Donovan had during the heist. "Hold on tight... and don't you dare let go."

Faye leaped over the edge of the box once again and sprinted as fast as she could through a maze of of oversized waste. She made her way along the base of the doors, a path mostly obscured to the one Conrad and his lackeys were taking.

Boyd began to ask, "Tony, you here-," only to find his answer in the bloodbath Faye had left behind. The confounded captain stared at Tony's corpse with bewilderment, clenching his fists as that initial shock quickly evolved into maddening rage. Tony was his best friend, something even someone as sick in the head as Boyd was cherished. "That fucking cunt," he growled through clenched teeth, "I'll cut her fucking insides out."

"She took the other one, too," Conrad informed his grandson as he glanced inside the toolbox. "Everyone quiet... she couldn't have gotten very far. Fan out."

Aaron pursued their escaped prisoner following the bloody footprints Faye left behind. Boyd, with blade in hand, headed back the way they came in an effort to try and cut her off. Conrad held his ground in case Faye tried to double back.

The pain-stricken defector had a solid head start in her favor. The hills of cans and boxes and crumpled plastic made for challenging terrain, but Faye was strong... and Faye was smart. Only the sounds of her feet hitting the floor and her concentrated attempts to quiet her labored breathing would have given her away. She had made her way to the monolithic, stainless steel freezer door and into the cooler before Boyd and Aaron could reconvene. Alana may have been a skilled hunter, but Faye held the skills and instincts of a warrior. Her entire life had been built upon a coming fight, whatever that may have reared its head as, but she also knew how to make a educated, covert retreat when necessary. Her skills were a shinning example of Conrad's own plans coming back to bite him in the ass... for once.

The cauterized wounds between Faye's legs stung with every step forward, cracking and bleeding with the flexing of her tired muscles. Any twisting motion or bump from Alana's dangling legs against her back sent wave after wave of suffocating pain through her rib cage. Pain was temporary... it didn't matter. She refused to quit. The determined woman refused to let her body keep her from saving the Kenner she loved. Before she knew it, the long expanse of the cooler was behind her... and with no posse in sight.

The sight of a bare Mattel woman, drenched in blood and toting another tiny blood-soaked, naked figure on her back as she dashed through the Stockroom, was just strange enough to stun the other Mattels with confusion instead of action. She was through the cracked open door to the sales floor before any of them realized they should be trying to stop her. It took the appearance of Boyd and Aaron in a frenzied rage to snap the others into joining their manhunt.

Freedom from the hostile world of the Stockroom was anything but guaranteed safety. The Store was still an enclosed space, one capable of sustaining thousands of people, but a prison of sorts in its own right. Hiding places were few and Faye had no idea whether or not Boyd and his goons had discovered the secret meeting places beneath the browsers. Night had indeed fallen, and that would help the fleeing pair greatly, but Faye didn't know what else to do except run.

"Just keep going," she coached herself in her mind, "kept going until your legs give out beneath you... then run even harder."

"Pppssssst! Over here!" A familiar and friendly voice beckoned from a cracked open kick plate in the back of Aisle 4. It was Lacey of all people, and Faye had never been so happy to see her. Her friend and ally guided the towering Mattel towards her with an inviting gesture.

Faye dove head first into the opening, sliding through the dust on her bare stomach and gritting through the pain it caused her . Alana held tight, riding the gigantic woman like a human surfboard into the relative safety of the hiding spot. Lacey and a couple of the other Kenner boys closed the kick plate behind them.

"Wait," Alana exclaimed, "Faye's footprints! The blood! If they see the blood..."

"They'll know where we're hiding!" Faye finished Alana's sentence for her.

Alana bit her knuckle and nearly screamed, "they'll see... and they'll take me away again... and... and... and...," the fear took the poor girl once again and she ducked into Faye's arms for safety.

"On it!" Roberta saluted, then set a pair of fellow Kenner girls out to wipe up any tracks potentially left behind with the same large rags they'd used to clean up the soot after the heist. They managed to wipe up any trace for two whole aisles before they caught sight of Boyd and about a dozen or more Mattels charging down Aisle 1. The girls quickly ducked beneath an overhang, hidden in the safety of darkness... something members the Kenner army had become quite adept at over the past few months.

"Wha-what are you doing here? So close to the stockroom, I mean?" Faye asked in a whisper.

Lacey answered, "we were going to try and rescue you and Alana... and her family before they exiled all of you."

"That's a terrible idea," Faye scorned. "What if they had caught you?"

"There was no way in hell we were going to let any of you get kicked out of here just to die in the wilderness!" Roberta snapped back. "You're our family, goddamnit... yes, even you Faye. You're one of us, an overgrown Kenner as far as I'm concerned, and for that matter-," Rob stopped herself when she finally saw the extent of what Tony had done to the aching giantess. "My god... Faye... what the fuck did they do to you?!"

"Don't worry about it... all that matters is that I got Alana out of there," Faye whispered back. She could hear the nearby footfalls of Boyd's search party passing by and then fading away again.

Other than her desperate call to clean up the bloody footprints, Alana still hadn't said a word. She just clung to Faye's chest like a baby would cling to its mother. Seeing the state Alana was in as well, Lacey and Rob stepped forward to place a comforting hand on her back.

"Better not," Faye warned, "she's... she's been through hell... more hell than anyone should ever have to. She's pretty sensitive right now."

"Sorry I'm late!" Sarah announced, greeted by a choir of shushes in the process.

The second Alana heard her voice, she lifted her head from Faye's breasts and turned wide-eyed to take in the glorious, relieving sight of her best friend. "Sarah?"

"Oh, no... you guys went and rescued them without me? I didn't think I was that late," Sarah pouted, completely misreading the situation in the way only Sarah could.

"Sarah...," Alana repeated and then stumbled out of Faye's arms. She rushed towards the ditzy blonde and nearly tackled her with a big, loving Sare-Bear hug. The little redhead instantly started crying again. "I... I never thought I'd see you again!"

Sarah returned Alana's embrace and grinned against her sticky, bare shoulder. "Me either. I'm glad your back, 'Lana."

"Can you find us something to wear?" Faye asked Lacey, who nodded and sent another Kenner lad to retrieve some rags so the naked couple could cover themselves.

"Alana... why are you covered in blood?" Sarah asked as she felt it soaking into her clothing. Alana couldn't answer her.

"Her parents," Faye stated sullenly.

"What do you mean," Rob asked, "did they get exiled already?"

"There is no exile," Faye replied.

"What do you mean there is no exile?" Lacey asked, confused.

"It's all a sham." Faye covered her face and began to cry again herself. "It's all a fucking lie. They're... god, how am I even supposed to tell you this? I'm so ashamed to be one of them."

Lacey placed a caring hand on the larger woman's arm, "what is it Faye?"

"They're... they're eating you!" Faye forced the words from her mouth. "The Mattels. They're... oh god... they're harvesting Kenners... for food!"

Lacey retracted her hand in disbelief, "you can't be serious?!"

Faye couldn't do anything but nod.

"Does... does that... does that mean...," Sarah began, but had trouble finding the will or the desire to finish the question... or even hearing the reply for that matter. Alana just cried harder, which was all the answer she needed.

"I'm so sorry," Faye whimpered.

"Those... mother... fuckers," Roberta huffed, punching the side of the kickplate with sickened rage.

"I can't believe it... it's... it's so horrible," Lacey gasped, trying to comprehend how anyone could do something so ghastly, so evil.

Alana finally pulled herself away from Sarah with a haunted, disturbed look on her face, "oh no, fuck... Faye... those bastards are gonna turn The Store upside down looking for us! They'll destroy everything! They're gonna torture our friends and families in order to find us!"

Lacey hung her head and sighed, "you don't know, do you?"




End Chapter Twenty-Seven

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Eight-"The Wrath of Gods"




Earlier that day....



A growing chorus of distant screams, gradually building in intensity, interrupted Roberta's self-loathing thoughts. Having just been forced home by Conrad Hartman himself after the morning's events concluded, all she wanted to do was cry alone in her bed. Her betrayal had led to Alana and Faye's exile... along with Alana's parents. How does someone even begin to process something like that?

Her friends were gone, and despite Alana's best efforts to convince her otherwise, Roberta knew her actions were cowardly. The Mattels had used her family as a bargaining chip, forcing her to play right into their hands. How could she have been so reckless as to get caught? Should she ever dare to show her face again to those who'd worked so hard... those who'd risked it all because they believed in Alana's better future? And the thing that perplexed the shame-filled girl most... how could Alana be so forgiving of her after she'd sold her out? If the tables had been turned... would Rob have had the strength to do the same?

Was there still time? Could they get her back? Could they save her parents and Faye, too? All those questions would have to take a back seat as the screaming bleeding through the walls of her home could no longer be ignored.

Rob wiped her tears across her arm, then went to her window to see what the commotion was all about. There were maybe a dozen of them... Mattels, men and women alike, laughing and singing as they tore through the village. Together they formed a devestating human wall of destruction. Boxes... people's homes, were thrown through the air and crashing down onto others. Their occupants could be seen falling from within them, and from increasingly dangerous heights.

The haunting sounds of her own people's screams mixed with the joyous roarings of the Mattel enforcers would prove to be a song that haunted Roberta's dreams until her dying days.

She planted her feet on either side of the ladder that led to her room and slid down it to the second floor of the Quaker Oats can her family called home. Before she had a chance to round her way to the second ladder and slide to the bottom, the entire canister began to tilt. The container crashed onto its side, the entire contents of the second floor piling on top of tiny Roberta. Her family were seated on the first floor when it happened and instantly became buried in furniture as well. The can began to roll on its side, which tumbled the frightened and helpless Kenners inside like precious stones before finally coming to a stop. Roberta looked upwards in horror as the curved ceiling, that had just seconds ago been the wall, begin to buckle and cave downwards.

The Mattels were outside... and they were trying to crush the trapped little people inside their own home.

Roberta scrambled through the hole that seconds prior lead downstairs, but now acted as a doorway. The popsicle sticks that made up the flooring began to bend and snap under the immense pressure and weight of god knows how many Mattels on the other side of the thin cardboard exterior. The walls were closing in fast with Roberta scrambling to get her family out of there safely. She betrayed Alana to protect her family... she couldn't let that sacrifice be in vain.

The frantic girl found her parents and brother on the other side of the floor trying to dig their dazed grandparents out of the destruction. The walls continued to inch closer, and the joyful cackling from the wrecking crew responsible only made the situation that much more desperate and terrifying.

Roberta helped to free her grandparents and then the six of them made their escape out the door cut into the base of the can. If the opening not been exposed been where it was, they most certainly would have been trapped inside... waiting in terror for the crushing death.

Her parents guided everyone to the relative safety of the lowest overhanging shelf of close by, where other members of their tribe had already gathered to escape the ambush. Rob's mother and father attempted to pry open the kickplate, but Roberta stopped them, knowing she couldn't let the Mattels know about what was hidden behind it.

There was nothing left to do but helplessly watch as their home was demolished by overzealous titans. The Mattels crushed and ripped the canister to shreds with maniacal glee. Then, almost as abruptly as the attack had begun, the cruel giants moved on to the next home.

Roberta's family held each other and cried, but the teenager herself made a mad dash towards Lacey's house next door, which had already been sacked. Her family tried to stop her, but few could stop Roberta once she set her mind to something. Seeing the plastic dollhouse lying on its side filled the already emotional girl with crushing dread. As Alana and Sarah had been tied at the hip, so too were Roberta and Lacey.

"Lacey! Lacey! Are you alright!" She called into the overturned structure. Rob began to scale the side until she found an accessible window. With a well placed kick, Rob was able to knock out the plastic pane to gain entry. Inside, Lacey and her parents were huddled together, crouched on the living room ceiling of the upside down toy, trying to ride out the attack. As soon as each caught the other's vision, the two girls crawled to one another and embraced with relief.

"Oh god... I'm so glad your ok!" Roberta exclaimed. "I can't lose you, too!"

The demolition continued outside, but it sounded more distant, like the Mattels had moved on towards the center of the aisle. Roberta and Lacey's family cautiously made their way out of the dollhouse and onto the Salesfloor, sneaking along the roofline of the structure to safety. Tyrone took his wife and joined their neighbors under the overhang... then, Lacey and Roberta were off to find Sarah together.

Further up the aisle, the Mattels closest were engaged in some kind of game with the line of giants who began their raid from the direction of the Dividing Corridor. Each took turns seeing if they could toss someone's home far enough to crash mid-air into another thrown from the far end. Sarah's family dwelling in was near the far end.

The Lego-constructed building was most certainly destroyed already, so the two girls had to be very careful in their drive to save their friend. They kept to the baseboard beneath the shelving overhang where, like their own families, others were gathering to take refuge. Navigating through the hundreds of people and tripping over the wounded was difficult enough without the added danger of being crushed by the Mattels' wave of destruction. If the tiny duo stepped too far out from beneath the minimal safety of the aluminum shelf, they did so at great mortal risk. For the time being at least, the demolition crew seemed content with simply destroying homes and not coming after those fleeing from them, something Roberta and Lacey weren't about to challenge.

Continuing to weave their way towards the front of the aisle, their village had been rendered unrecognizable. Most of the houses and apartments that hadn't been crushed under foot were now piled up, mostly in the aisle's center where they'd come to a violent rest after their mid-air collisions. By the time Lacey and Roberta reached the geometric ruble that was once Sarah's house, the Mattels were wrestling each other and rolling around amid the crushed and torn cardboard, laughing like children at play.

"Lacey! Roberta!" Sarah's voice echoed across the expanse between the browsers. She too was cowering beneath the overhang, but on the opposite side.

Roberta was about to try and sprint towards her when Lacey stopped her. "Are you crazy?! You're gonna get yourself killed! Just wait it out, goddamnit! We can see her... she's alright."

Roberta shook Lacey from her arm and started to run again. This time Lacey yanked her back and slammed the stubborn girl against the kick plate.

"Get outta my way, bitch!" Roberta screamed. "I have to get to her!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Lacey shouted back.

"Alana... Alana would want me to save her... she's... she's her best friend! I can't let anything happen to her... I... I have to protect her!" She was trying to hide it, but Roberta was fighting back a torrent of tears. With the destruction occurring all around her, and the guilt she'd already earned, somehow... protecting Sarah felt like it might offer small inkling of redemption... even if that thought in itself was irrational. Rob tried to bolt again, but Lacey slammed her right back against the wall.

"You listen to me right now, Roberta of 17... I know you feel guilty about Alana. Maybe you fucking should, but getting yourself killed isn't going to fix anything." She grabbed Roberta by her messy black hair and forced her to look right at Sarah across the way. "Look! She's alive... she's fine, in fact... she's trying to keep the people on the other side calm, just like we should be doing... not fucking fighting with each other, Rob!"

A large box came crashing down from above, startling them both and causing Lacey to fall back against the kick plate next to Roberta. She took Rob's hand and pleaded with her, "just sit here with me. We'll wait it out... just stay... I can't lose you either, Rob."

The quivering shine of repressed tears in Roberta's dark, almond eyes let Lacey in on her friend's emotional state. Rob couldn't hold back any longer, finally letting herself cry. She planted her face flat into Lacey's lap and let go... something the tall, dark-skinned girl had never seen her cynical, snarky friend do before. Lacey couldn't hold her tears back any longer either. She sat in sadness and abject horror, trying to comfort Rob while their entire lives were crushed beneath the wrathful feet of the Mattels.

A sharp whistle blown between fingers from the direction of the Dividing Corridor announced Boyd's second appearance of the morning. He stood there proudly with a huge shit-eating grin brightening his face while waving the others back. His cronies tossed their 'toys' aside, then with arms wrapped around shoulders... high-fiving... giving each other nuggies... and even giving each other piggy-back rides, they left. Back to the Stockroom to celebrate their successful siege. They looked like a group of elated fans who'd just witnessed their team win the big game.

In a way... they had.

The war had begun... and the Mattels had claimed the first victory.

Slowly and cautiously, the Kenner population of 17 began to creep back out into the aisle. The scene was positively apocalyptic. Weeping could be heard from any single location in the entire length of the aisle. Far ahead, towards the front of The Store, the same destruction came to 7 that day that had befallen 17 as well. With the lingering terror still shaking in their bones, the dejected people began to root through the debris to salvage what they could.

Sarah analyzed the situation, then came running across the floor as soon as it appeared safe to do so. Roberta and Lacey met her halfway and the three of them locked together in a tight group hug.

"Oh god, I'm glad you two are ok! What about your families? Are they hurt or...," Sarah paused, hoping for good news.

"They're fine... as fine as they can be, I guess," Roberta stated. "What about yours?"

"My parents took a pretty bad spill when they dumped us out of our house," Sarah informed them, "but I think they'll be ok."

The mention of Sarah and her family being dumped from their home like the prize at the bottom of a box of cereal made Roberta's eyes bulge open. She let her friends go and took a step back. "Keri! We have to check on Keri... for Alana!"

"Right!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'll take that side and you guys take the other."

The search for Alana's grandmother amid the newly homeless sobered the girls to the real damage that had occurred that morning. Though most people seemed to be alright physically, there were still quite a few with bad concussions and broken bones. The aisle medics, of which there were only two, were completely overwhelmed.

Lacey and Roberta found Keri after little more than fifteen minutes of searching. The old woman was laying on the floor with her back propped up against the kickplate, her legs stretched out in front of her. She was left unconscious after Conrad's blow, and some anonymous villager had been kind enough to drag her to safety. After what Keri'd been through that morning... waking to the sight of her village in complete ruin would nearly break her.

"Go tell Sarah we found her," Roberta ordered. "I'll stay with her."

"Really?!" Lacey asked, astounded. Rob had never exactly been known for her tact, let alone any kind of bedside manner.

"Please," Rob began, "let me talk to her... I can't ever make what I did right... but I have to try."

Lacey nodded with sympathetic understanding. She backed away, then dashed across the aisle in Sarah's direction. Rob sat down crosslegged next to the dazed older woman and placed a caring hand on her shoulder.

"Keri? Keri, are you ok?"

The dilated pupils and thousand yard stare were a clear indication that Keri had suffered a concussion. Rob figured she must have took a hit on the head during the siege, not having seen what Conrad did to the frail-looking grandmother. Keri turned her head slightly to see who was with her, the same blank expression never leaving her face.

"Oh... hello Roberta... are you here to see Alana?" Keri asked as if she were in another dimension. "I... I... can't seem to remember... but I think... I think she just left. Do you know where she went?"

Roberta cupped her hands over her mouth and began to cry once again.

Keri leaned over and rested her head against Roberta's shoulder and closed her eyes. "It's ok, dear," she yawned, "she'll be right back. Then we can start to clean up this awful mess."

The old woman began to drift off, but Rob shook her awake again. "I'm sorry, Keri... Keri! I know you want to go to sleep, but you've hit your head. It's too dangerous to for you to sleep right now... you have to stay awake for me, ok?"

Keri's eyes fluttered back open, but she still seemed extremely confused in her concussed state. "Roberta... when did you get here?"

Her excitement in seeing the young woman again, who hadn't left her side, faded in an instant. Roberta wasn't sure if it was a moment of clarity in the haze clouding Keri's brain... or just another product of it, but Keri gripped her roughly behind the neck and pulled her face close to her own.

"Please... bring my children back to me."

Roberta sniffed her tears away and rested her forehead against Keri's. "I... I'm not sure that I can," she admitted ashamedly... but the stubborn Kenner lifted her head away and made Keri a promise, "...but you can bet your ass I'm gonna try."

Keri gave Roberta a gentle pat on the cheek and relaxed once again, "you're a good kid. Thank you... I need some rest now."

"No! Keri! Goddamnit!" Roberta replied in frustration, shaking the old woman awake once again. Sarah and Lacey arrived soon thereafter.

"How is she?" Asked Sarah.

"She's pretty loopy... I'm sure she's concussed." Rob gazed at Alana's grandmother and pondered, "perhaps its for the best."

"How so?!" Lacey countered.

"Because... at least for now," Rob replied, "she's spared from this horrible reality."

Over the sorrowful mumblings of the crowd, a distressed voice could be heard shouting. It was that of a man, and the man kept repeating the same word over and over as he sprinted through the aisle:

"Fire!"

More and more people began to rush by, carrying water in what ever they could find that hadn't already been destroyed. There wasn't much of the resource around to dowse any kind of inferno... like everything else, the water supply was closely monitored and distributed by the Mattels. Most of what people had stored away had been spilled during the siege and absorbed into the old, dry cardboard.

"Go," Roberta ordered Lacey and Sarah, "people need your help."

"What about you?" Lacey asked.

"I gotta look after Keri," Rob explained, "I can't let her fall asleep. Please, go help! If there's a fire and it gets out of control, we're all doomed!"

"Right," Sarah agreed. She took Lacey by the wrist and dragged her towards the end of the aisle. Lacey looked back at Roberta, still tending to Keri... wondering if this would be the last time she ever saw her.

The situation was far worse than a single fire... there were three. From the center crossing aisle, smoke could she seen rising from 15, 6, and 2. A massive crowd was scrambling back and forth across the Corridor, trying to gather anything they could to dowse the flames. The fires in 15 and 6 were still exclusive to only a few boxes each, but the one in 2 had already consumed most of the homes. They were piled up towards the middle of the aisle, not unlike those in 17, and the dry pulp burned up quickly. The boxes went up so fast that the fire itself never had a chance of burning hot enough to ignite anything structural. Somehow in over forty years, even without the involvement of the Mattels, no one foresaw an event like this. With the majority of people's homes consisting cardboard, The Store's residents were lucky it had taken this long.

As for the fires in 15 and 6, individuals from all over The Store worked tirelessly to isolate the rest of the ruined boxes from those that were burning. What little water there was available was tossed onto the blaze until all that remained was soggy and scorched corrugation. Not a single Mattel was to be seen during the frantic rush to put out the flames. It was a disaster they were responsible for, and stood to lose just as much as anyone else had the fires grown beyond control.

A column of smoke collected near the ceiling like a deadly rain cloud, and with no ventilation to the outside, would hang there for quite some time. The entire Store reeked of burnt cardboard, but the Kenners and Hasbros were small enough that smoke inhalation didn't pose much of a problem... standing so close to the floor.

Lacey and Sarah returned to 17 exhausted and miserable from helping deliver water to those fighting the flames. Their families were relieved to find that their daughters weren't injured... or worse. Keri had finally found a clear mind and was holding a still crying Roberta's head in her lap. The young woman had emptied her striking almond eyes of tears into the rags Keri was draped in, pleading for her forgiveness.

"None if this is your fault, my dear," Keri tried to assure her, "if fault belongs to anyone... it's me. I set all of this in motion. Perhaps...," what the elderly woman was about to say made her sick to even think them, but perhaps they were a hard truth they all needed to swallow, "perhaps we never stood a chance. Maybe... maybe this is just how things are going to be from now on... and we should just find a way to make our peace with it."

The former school teacher began to weep, the realization of everything she'd lost finally hitting her. Roberta, on the other hand, sat bolt upright in disbelief of what she had just heard.

"No! I won't accept that. Not ever." She climbed to her feet and scanned around for Lacey and Sarah, waving them over when she spotted them. "With or without Alana and Faye, we can still win this fight," she paused as Lacey and Sarah arrived, then stared down at the still sitting Keri once again. "But I'd rather do it with them."

"What are you saying, Rob?" Sarah asked.

Rob hugged Sarah and Lacey at once, "I'm saying... lets go get our friends back."




End Chapter Twenty-Eight

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Twenty-Nine-"Bandages"




"What?!" Faye inquired with dread, "what don't we know? What happened while we were gone?!"

"It was after they hauled you off...," Roberta began, hanging her head and shaking it with disgust.

Lacey also chimed in, "the entire Mattel army closed in on every aisle."

"They stormed through everything... destroyed every single home in every aisle," Rob continued through a frustrated grumble. "There were fires... those selfish motherfuckers could have burned the entire Store to the ground. It was... it was awful."

"That's why I was so late," Sarah added, "I was helping the medics get supplies to the injured back in 17. There's... there's just so many..."

Alana turned back to Sarah, "grandma! Is my grandma ok?"

"She's fine, physically anyway... she just had a bit of a concussion," Rob reassured. "She's worried sick about you though."

"Is anyone... did they kill anyone?" Alana whimpered, feeling guilty that so many were suffering, in her mind because of her actions.

The uncertainty was written all over Sarah's face. "It's still early... and there are a lot of injured, but so far we haven't found anyone dead."

"Of course not," Faye said with disgust, wiping her tears away in the process. "Can't risk wasting any of Conrad's precious herd." Faye kicked herself mentally, "god... the number of times he referred to you... the Kenners, as 'cattle'! The crazy son of a bitch was serious! Fuck, I'm such an idiot!"

"Don't torture yourself, Faye," Lacey offered her hand in comfort once again. "For the short time we've known each other, I've seen that you have a big heart. You see the good in people... you wouldn't be here with us now if you didn't. Something this insidious is just... I mean, who would ever believe it?"

Alana finally let go of Sarah and leapt at Lacey, "Oh god, it's so good to see you!"

"I mean, technically it's only been since this morning," Lacey cracked, trying to generate some kind of levity.

"It... it feels like so much longer," Alana replied, feeling the weight of everything they'd all been through in such a short period of time.

"I'll say," Rob added.

Alana released Lacey and turned her attention to Roberta, who still couldn't bring herself to look Alana in the eye.

"You... you were coming to save us?" The blood-caked redhead asked quietly.

"Well... we didn't," Rob huffed. "Faye beat us to it. It's probably better that she did, it's not like we had really a plan or anything."

Alana kissed Roberta on the cheek and hugged her just as hard as the others. "Thank you, Rob." The reunion with her friends seemed to be helping immensely with Alana's state of mind, but there was still a shiver in her movements and a haunted darkness in her eyes.

The girls who were sent away for clothing finally returned with some scraps for Faye and Alana to cover their nakedness. Others arrived with water, something that had grown in very short supply since the fires. Both Faye and Alana gulped their shares down greedily. The other Kenners who had joined the rescue mission stared quietly at the two women with shock and awe... like the mismatched pair had managed to find a way back from hell itself.

It was the first moment that offered any kind of break from the nightmare either girl had endured that day... but that brief moment of relaxation had its price. Faye's body finally gave out. The pain had rushed back without the numbing power of adrenaline, causing the colossal woman to collapse face first into a cloud of dust.

"Faaaay-mmmmpph," Alana began to scream before Rob muted her with her hand.

Lacey had been standing closest to the towering woman, and just narrowly avoided getting pinned beneath Faye's enormous frame. She moved to check Faye's pulse and breathing immediately.

"She's alive... just passed out," she informed the others. Faye's huge, pounding heartbeat was easily detected by Lacey's tiny hands. "Do you think we can get a medic out here? We need alcohol, and bandages to keep her wounds from getting infected." Sarah nodded and briskly left for help.

"Wounds?" Alana asked. "W-What's wrong with her?!" Everything had happened so fast, and she was damn near catatonic when Faye found her... Alana still had no idea what Faye had been through.

There was only one small candle available to light the hideout, but Alana quickly shoved the flickering puck near her savior so she could lay eyes on what had been done. From Faye's downward facing position, it was difficult to see the full extent of the bruising, but there was enough black and blue spread along her sides to start painting a picture. Alana gently touched a particularly sensitive spot where a rib had broken, which caused Faye to wince in her sleep.

As bad as the bruising looked, it didn't hold a candle to her butchered legs. Tony had done a real number on Faye's inner thighs. The slashes and burnt flesh looked every bit as horrendous as it had to feel. Alana clutched the sides of her face in horrified disbelief at what she was seeing.

"Oh Faye... no."

Lacey climbed over one of Faye's legs then down between them. With all of her strength, she then spread the huge, fleshy trunks apart using her entire body for leverage. She inspected the extent of the damage closer, which about brought her to the point of vomiting. "What kind of sick mind would do something like this?!"

Roberta stood next to Alana, eyes wide and head shaking with heartbroken sympathy, "every step she took... it had to be excruciating."

Alana made her way back to Faye's head and then knelt down next to Faye's blood-covered face. The smaller girl brushed a long lock of hair dangling across the giantess's eyes and tucked it over her ear. She wrapped her arms around Faye's head and weeped. "I'm so sorry, Faye... this is all my fault!" Until Sarah returned... there was nothing to do but wait.

Perhaps a half an hour later, Sarah returned, struggling with a big, damp cotton ball under one arm and a few bandages in the other. "I'm sorry I couldn't get more, but this is all they could spare." The clumsy blonde suddenly lost her balance and fell flat on her butt. Seems the fumes from the alcohol-soaked ball were making her dizzy. "Can someone take this thing away now?"

If there's one thing you can count on from the human race, no matter how dire the circumstances, it's that someone will always find a way to ferment liquor. Without the access to antibiotics, the secret Kenner still in Aisle 10 (hidden behind the cosmetics wall) had saved many a life over the years... as well as providing some much needed reprieve from the day to day hardships of living at a fraction of their proper sizes.

"Thank you, Sarah," Lacey expressed and accepted the sloppy, dripping wad of cotton and alcohol. She returned to the space between Faye's legs and took a deep breath. "Everyone back away! I don't know how she's going to react to this when the sting hits her."

"Wait, what about you?" Roberta pleaded with concern, but it was too late... Lacey had already pressed the dripping ball against Faye's skin and began to rub it into her festering cuts.

Alana hadn't listened and was still hugging Faye's head with her entire body. Faye's eyes opened wide and she let out an ear shattering scream. She began to flail wildly with Lacey caught between her legs. Despite Alana's attempt to calm her, only smacking her head against the ceiling seemed to stun Faye enough to calm her down. Lacey laid huffing and frightened between the larger woman's bent knees, stunned and shaking, but unharmed.

"Fuck! There's no way Boyd and his goons didn't hear that!" Roberta panicked. She sent the other Kenners present away for their own safety.

Lacey looked up at Faye, who was wincing and rubbing the newest bump on her oversized noggin. "I'm sorry, Faye... but we need to get your wounds cleaned now. We have to be quick... and then get the fuck outta here."

Faye opened her eyes and met Lacey's beneath her. She sighed and stuck her fingers through the punch-holes in the aluminum shelf above her to brace for the pain. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Alright... get it over with."

Alana stood by Faye as Lacey went to work. As soon as the alcohol hit her damaged skin, Faye winced her eyes shut and tensed, dying to let out a scream from the searing pain. She slammed her foot down over and over to cope with the nasty, but necessary sting... but more importantly, the strong-willed Mattel wouldn't make more than a whimper.

Sarah and Roberta were already at work unwrapping the first of the bandaids, no small task when a single bandage was nearly as long as they were tall. Once Lacey had sufficiently cleaned out the deep, bleeding cuts, she handed the red-stained ball to Faye herself so she could wipe the blood away from her face... and anywhere else she needed. Lacey had finished none too soon, as Faye was on the verge of shattering her own teeth from gritting them in agony. The other two stretched out the bandages onto Faye's legs, taking two strips for each thigh to cover the wounds. Each bandage easily wrapped around the larger woman's leg with overlap to spare.

"Does that feel any better?" Asked Lacey.

Faye rubbed her patched-up thighs together lightly to get a better feel. "A little... at least it keeps my skin from rubbing against itself. Thank you for doing that. You guys are better friends than I deserve."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Lacey countered. "You're one of us, and I'm glad to help. That's what friends do... we look out for each other."

"Hey, can you two save this mushy, feel good shit for later?" Roberta interrupted. "We really need to get the fuck out of here!"

Alana doused the candle and the five of them felt their way through the dark beneath the gondola for a safer hiding place. Just as they had worried, one of Boyd's lackeys, a pale brunette girl who's name no one remembers, had heard Faye's initial scream. Luckily for the five little criminals, she was unable to pinpoint its source under the cover of night.

Positioned more towards the the Dividing Corridor, the four Kenner girls and their Mattel friend sat out the rest of the night, sometimes sleeping, but not very well. Alana kept waking up violently from the nightmares that tormented her mind. Faye held the tiny woman as tightly as she dared, but her cracked and broken ribs made it almost unbearable.

Rob and Lacey were both held by insomnia due to the terrible revelations Faye had brought back with her. Being eaten. Cannibalism. That's what awaited them if they didn't stop Conrad Hartman.

Sarah could be heard sawing logs uninterrupted until dawn.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A band of light creeped in beneath the kick plate, reflected off the floor that shone directly into Lacey's face. She licked the dryness away from the inside of her mouth after breathing in dust all night long, then sat up. Morning. They'd survived the night without incident. After wiping the sleep from her eyes, the groggy Kenner began to wake the others...

Now what?

The five of them stared at each other in silence, most of them waiting for Alana to tell them what to do. Alana, however, could only think about her parents and shuddered with the relentless memory of their final moments.

The ever impatient Roberta finally spoke up. "Well?! What the fuck are we gonna do, you guys?! We can't just sit here forever! People are depending on us. They need to know Alana is still here."

"You're right," Faye began, "we need to call a meeting. Everyone. We need everyone there... Kenners... Hasbros... everyone. It's time to end this."

"Where can we possibly have everyone meet and not attract attention," Rob asked.

"The men's room," Lacey replied. "We can close the door behind us, they'll never know it's happening. We can even use one of those big porcelain toilets as a stage!"

"Not exactly the most dignified of platforms," Faye joked.

Sarah's face lit up with grand revelation, "ooooohh... that's what those things are?!"

The others shook their heads with quiet amusement.

"Alright. Everyone fan out. Spread the word," Faye instructed. She gazed down at Alana who still looked visibly distressed. "'Lana? You ok?"

Alana pulled her knees to her chin and began to rock back and forth like she had inside the toolbox. Faye panicked.

"Nononononononono! Not again! Don't go back to that place, 'Lana!" Faye excitedly begged while taking Alana by the shoulders. "I'm here... your friends are here... stay with us."

Alana looked back up at Faye with so much fear in her eyes. It broke the giant woman's heart to see what Conrad had reduced this woman to. Someone who had been so headstrong, so caring.

"I... I... I...," Alana struggled to speak.

"It's ok... take a deep breath... I'm here," Faye replied in as calming a voice as she could. She placed her hand on Alana's back and gently caressed it.

"I... I don't know if I can do this... I'm sorry!" Alana blurted out, then hid her face back into her folded arms.

"What the fuck is she talking about?!" Rob bluntly asked. "She has to! Fuck! That's why we're fucking here!"

"Shut up, Rob!" Faye snapped back. "You three go. Gather everyone. I'll talk with her."

"Are you kidding me?! What's the point in a fucking meeting if our goddamn leader won't speak to them?!" Rob added.

"Fucking go, Rob!" Faye growled, her voice carrying the power that only someone her size could. "We'll be there. I promise."

"Fuck...," Rob mumbled, then turned towards the exit.

Lacey and Sarah followed after, both looking back with their understandable, but unspoken concern.

"It's alright. I can handle this. Go help your hotheaded friend," Faye assured them.

Once again, Faye and Alana found themselves alone together in a dark, cramped space. The tender-hearted Mattel continued to hold her betrothed by the shoulders and stared down at her with gravely serious intent. "Listen to me, Alana... you need to snap out of this. We need you here with us... the other Kenners NEED you."

Faye may as well have been transparent the way Alana stared right through her. The former's prodigious hands slid up from the latter's shoulders to form a cradle around her head.

"Alana! Please... look at me! Listen to my voice! Just be here with me... can you do that for starters?"

Faye realized she was starting to shake Alana's skull out of frustration, and pulled her hands away. Alana dropped to her knees and glared wide-eyed and vacantly at the bandages on Faye's legs. The larger of the two shifted onto her backside and tried to compose herself. She let herself fall backwards until her back hit the kick plate, her head cocked forward by the low-lying ceiling. It all felt awfully familiar, like they were right back in the toolbox again.

Taking a deep breath and forcing herself to speak in as calming a manner as possible, Faye attempted to coax Alana out of her stupor once again. "I'm sorry we have to ask this of you, my love. I can't imagine... and I don't want to imagine what you've seen. It's too horrible... the hair on my neck is standing up just talking about it."

Faye paused. She lowered her head further and closed her eyes... deja vu all over again.

"It isn't fair. None of it. It isn't fair what happened to you... and it isn't fair of us to ask you to put that aside and be the leader we need you to be." Faye opened her eyes to find Alana's attention finally locked in on her.

"But that's just it, isn't it? Nothing that is happening is fair... for anyone. That's why you set all of this in motion in the first place. It's how you've shown so many others that they don't have to bite their tongues and accept it. And if not for all this... who knows if we would have found each other. I love you, Alana... the people love you. You have no idea what seeing you, ALIVE... and ready to fight for them... will do to renew their faith in what we are trying to do."

"It's too much," Alana finally reacted. "I'm so scared, Faye! Why the fuck does it have to be me?!" Alana fell forwards between the bent legs of her larger lover and cried into her hands.

"I don't know, Alana. I don't know how the universe works... I wish I did. I don't know why we're here, or why the cosmos decided to make us this way. Before I met you, I would have thought there wasn't any structure to any of it... just randomness and chaos. If I didn't feel that way, I suppose I could have fallen into the same cult-like mentality that's taken so many of the people I know."

Alana looked up once again, her tears clearing little trails from her eyes as they poured down her face and eroded the dried blood away.

"But that's just it," Faye continued, admitting things to Alana that she had been thinking about for quite some time, but had kept to herself, "... what if that in itself was meant to be... so I could see through the lies and find the truth for myself... so I could find you? What if I'm supposed to be here to support you... and to protect you... and to love you?"

Alana didn't move, feeling a little stunned by what Faye was saying.

"Look at the people around you," Faye insisted, "the very people you grew up with, your best friends. You needed someone to bring the masses, someone charismatic, and no one draws attention like Lacey. Sarah's artistic talents, of which you... her best friend, didn't even know about... provided the visual stimulation to inspire more to ask questions. Even Rob's cynicism helped challenge your decisions, making sure you looked at all possible outcomes before making your decisions."

"What are you trying to say, Faye?" Alana asked, growing somewhat irritated by Faye's conclusions, "that I'm some kind of... fucking prophet?! Fuck that! Fuck that shit right in the ass! And while we're at it, fuck any god that would let my family be murdered and eaten!" Alana climbed to her feet in huff, clenching her fists at her sides. Her brow furrowed as she tried to process the nonsense Faye was feeding her.

"I don't know what I'm saying, 'Lana. Like I said, the universe is a mystery to me." Faye kept calm, holding her light tone. Alana may have been getting angry with her, but more importantly, she wasn't cowering... this was the Alana they needed. Fired up and ready for a fight.

"Let me ask you this... think about the entire human race... shrinking, something so completely fantastical and absurd that you have to ask... why? Why just people and not the other animals? There has to be some kind of... consciousness... behind something like that." Faye continued to theorize, "if our ancestors were fucking this planet up so badly, like your grandmother says, that 'God'... or nature... or fucking vampires from outer space for all I know... decided to do this to us... why didn't they just kill us off? I have a hard time believing that something so impossible could happen solely just to eliminate us."

Faye paused a moment before making her most profound observation, "what if this wasn't a punishment... but a second chance?"

Alana held her ground, but remained silent. Something about what Faye was saying was starting to make sense, as much as she hated to admit it. "It could've just as easily been something we did to ourselves," she countered. "Some kind of disease or weapon."

Faye ignored Alana's reasoning and continued, "I can't help but think that all of this... everything in the last forty years... it's all been some kind of... of test... and we've been failing it. Locking ourselves up inside this... fucking... cage," Faye punched the kickplate wall behind her out of frustration, needing Alana to really hear her. "There's a whole world out there, bigger and stranger than we could ever imagine. I'm sure there's horror to be found, but also wonders and beauty. Alana, you dream of seeing the outside world as much as anyone... maybe that's what we're supposed to do... fucking leave... and live!"

Alana relaxed a little. She immediately thought back to the bear cub and it's mother she'd encountered on the day she learned about The Rapture. Creatures both monstrous and beautiful at the same time. The two gargantuan beasts had inspired her to save her home, but as she thought about the sighting just then... it felt... different. Like a symbol of what they'd been missing. She may not have agreed with everything Faye was suggesting, but Alana knew her heart was in the right place.

Faye shook her head, having a hard time believing the things coming out of her own mouth, "I don't know, perhaps I am just rambling... looking for answers where there aren't any. All I can say is... if there are people truly touched by god, then you... Alana of 17... are one of them."

The two took each other in. Alana gazed up at Faye, her anger and tension fading away into the warmth of love she felt for the towering idealist. Faye stared back at Alana, exhausted and more sore than she'd ever felt... with the same wave of love washing over her. It wasn't an awkward silence, but one of understanding. Alana was far from her former self, but she finally managed to break through the anxieties that gripped her... based solely on Faye's faith in her. In that moment, Alana knew she had to fight through her grief, whatever that could mean in the future, for the good of The Store... no... for the human race.

Faye placed her elbows on her knees and leaned forward, "Kenners... Hasbros... Mattels... none of that shit means anything, you've said so yourself so many times. It's all just... humanity. What'dya say we go see it is worth fighting for?"




End Chapter Twenty-Nine

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-"The Final Gathering"




"They're not coming, goddamnit! What the fuck are we even doing here?!" Roberta complained with escalating anxiety.

Lacey, Sarah and she were standing atop of the old porcelain throne... surrounded by a crowd of thousands. The men's room floor was sprawling with people, and not just members of Alana's army. Unless they were too old or too young or too injured to walk, they were there, even the reluctant Hasbros. The gathered crowd had been accumulating for over an hour, waiting patiently for some important message, but there were individuals among them who were starting to get restless.

"They'll be here," Lacey tried to assure her less than optimistic companion, "I believe in Faye. If anyone can bring Alana back to us, it's her."

"So that's what we have to put stock in? Belief? Faith?! I don't need that shit unless it magically keeps the Mattels from sucking the meat off my bones," Roberta snapped back.

"She'll be here," Sarah reiterated. "It's Alana. She's the strongest person I've ever met."

"I don't care how strong she is," Rob countered, "she watched her parents get eaten. EATEN, Sarah! If I was her, I'd be in a fucking coma!"

Sarah took Roberta by the shoulders and lowered her brow intensely, "she'll be here."

Roberta spotted some movement in the crowd from over Sarah's shoulder. It appeared to be Regina and Leon, the Hasbro leadership, and they were making their way towards the exit. "Oh fuck! Look! Some of them are already staring to leave!"

Down on the floor, Leon was pushing anyone standing in his way aside to clear a path for Regina and himself, be it the smaller Kenners or his own kind. The Mattels had devastated their aisles just as badly as the Kenners, and in his opinion, there was too much work to be done rebuilding to waste on the likes of "Kenner scum." Besides, it was that little redhead Kenner that caused the hammer to drop on them in the first place. The only reason he even agreed to attend this farce of a meeting was under Regina's influence.

As the Hasbro leadership pushed and shoved their way towards the cracked open door, Nathan (Sarah's Hasbro friend... and some say maybe a little more) stepped into Leon's path and halted his progress.

"Wait," the Kenner sympathizer pleaded, "don't leave. The Kenners say they have something important to announce. We really should be patient and hear them out."

"Outta my way, kid... we've wasted most of the morning waiting for this 'great revelation.' It clearly isn't happening." Leon stepped around Nathan only to have Nathan step back into his path. This time the young man placed a hand on Leon's shoulder, something Leon was not about to abide.

"Please, just a little longer," Nathan continued to beg.

"If you don't take your hand off me right now, boy, I'm gonna lay you flat on this tile." Leon raised his fist to show Nathan that he meant business.

Reluctantly, the sympathetic Hasbro stepped aside.

"Come on, Regina," the grumpy representative ordered," let's get the fuck outta here." Leon began to walk again, but was interrupted once more, this time by Regina's voice.

"The boy is right, Leon. Things have changed. We should have united with the Kenners when they came to us in the first place. Everyone is suffering now because we ignored their call for help."

Leon turned on a dime and got right up in Regina's face, "everyone is suffering because these little fucks stirred up trouble in the first place! The status quo needs to be maintained, remember? Look at what challenging that got the rest of us!"

"The status quo was already deteriorating," Regina replied. "Those four Kenner girls decided to face it head on while we turned our heads to it."

"Nonsense... do what you wish, Regina. I'm going home." As Leon turned back towards the door he did so blindly, right into the long, bandaged legs of Faye.

"You have to be Leon of 20," Faye smirked. She sarcastically added, "I've heard nothing but good things."

Leon's eyes grew wide with fear. Stepping backwards from the huge woman, who was covered with streaks of blood dripping down her neck-breakingly tall body, the dwarfed Hasbro tripped over his own feet and fell onto his back. "I... I...," he stammered, "I'm no party to this congregation! I was just leaving... please! I beg the Mattel's mercy!"

"Pppfffftthahahaha," Faye laughed in a full-on spit take, revealing the new pair of gaps in her smile, courtesy of Tony. It the first good laugh she'd had in quite some time, and it made her busted ribs hurt like a motherfucker.

Nathan folded one arm across his chest and tried to hide his amusement with the other. The friendly lad tipped his head in Faye's direction and informed Leon that, "she's with us."

Faye squatted down and offered Leon a hand to pull him back to his feet, "Faye of 1... pleased to meet you."

Leon ignored her friendly gesture and struggled back up on his own. That's when he finally noticed the much smaller figure peaking out from behind Faye's knee. She looked frightened, and even more of her was coated in blood than the giant one. He squinted his eyes, trying to tell through his failing vision if he recognized girl... and he did.

"Alana?! Is that you? Jesus girl, what on earth happened to you?" He looked back up at Faye and added, "...to the both of you?"

The mere mention of Alana's name had turned heads, then the gasps followed from those that had seen her hauled away the previous morning. Faye began to walk forward towards the monolithic toilet, and the crowd parted accordingly. It was uncomfortably quiet, with the exception of the whispers and mutterings of those in the crowd explaining to others what had happened to the ghastly looking girl. With the exception of those in 17, who had seen Faye and Alana taken, few else knew the pair had been "exiled," as most had their hands full dealing with the aftermath of the Mattel siege.


No one had ever returned from exile.


With so many eyes on her once more, Alana began to lock up with anxiety. This time, she fought back against the urge to curl up and hide... this time she wouldn't let it take her. The little redhead held her chin up high and gritted her teeth. The urge to close her eyes was strong, but not the best idea with so many surrounding her.

Once they reached the massive white bowl, Faye lifted Alana above her head so the others could pull her up the remaining distance to the lid. Faye herself climbed up using one of the old ladders propped against the side, ladders once used to retrieve water from the tank in years long past.

The five young women stood at the edge of the bowl, flanking Alana. Faye sat down next to her... slowly and carefully, so as not to rip her unstitched wounds open again. She dropped her long legs over side and allowed them to dangle over the edge.

The crowd was deathly silent.

To say Alana was overwhelmed would be the understatement of the century. So many... there were just so many people, and every last one of them was waiting for her to speak. She began to tremble, but the warm touch of Faye's hand taking hers helped to steady her nerves.

"I... uh... I don't know what to say to them," the nervous revolutionary whispered in Faye's ear.

"Just start with the truth. They deserve that much at least," Faye replied.

Alana turned her head to face Sarah, who simply nodded and took her other hand. Lacey slid her hand into Faye's and Roberta into Sarah's until the five formed a human chain in solidarity.

Alana took a deep breath... and began to give the address of her life.

"H-hello... everyone...," she began. She felt her throat tighten and her mouth dry up with nervousness. She paused once again... closed her eyes... and choked back the urge to give up. Save for a few scattered coughs, the crowd remained silent and anxious.

Faye squeezed Alana's tiny hand and whispered, "you can do this, 'Lana. I love you."

The terrified teenager cleared her mind... took another deep breath... and opened her eyes.

"Hello. For anyone here that doesn't know who I am, my name is Alana of 17... no... fuck that... my name is Alana Nelson." Alana looked over the edge to search for her grandmother Keri, who was standing right in the front row. Tears rained from her eyes and a smile of relief wrinkled her aging face with joyous relief to see her granddaughter still alive.

Alana continued, "a few months ago... I discovered the truth about this place... about us. A truth that was hidden from our generation, albeit with good intentions. The founding generation wanted to free us from the burden of longing for a world that we no longer... fit into, I guess you'd say. The hierarchy of sizes... the Mattels, the Hasbros, and the Kenners... we were once one race, one great society of giants that built the very place we call our home, The Store."

"Despite our differences, we ARE still... one... race. Why should size matter? We've divided ourselves... grown to hate each other... and that hate has only held us back. Think of what we could accomplish if we helped each other, looked after one another, treated each other as equals. I know it's easy for me to say because I'm a Kenner, a small people perpetually at the mercy of giants, but there was a time when all of us were united in purpose."

"You were gathered here today because Conrad Hartman would have you think otherwise. He's convinced all but a handful of Mattels that their size is the result of some kind of... divine exclusivity... that they were chosen by God, and therefore, are superior to the rest of us. I can't remember a time when the Mattels didn't control every aspect of our lives, but this cult has pushed things to such an extreme that an intervention has to be taken... for the sake of all our lives."

"What do you mean?!" An anonymous voice yelled from the crowd, followed by a brief wave of incomprehensible mumbling among the thousands below.

Alana looked back at her grandmother who, like everyone else, was fixed on the little redhead. "How...," she whispered, "how can I tell them? I don't know if I can relive what I saw."

Faye kissed Alana on the cheek and rested her forehead on the top of Alana's head, "I'm here... I've got you. Just let the truth pour out."

Alana took another deep breath, but this time there would be no controlling the tremors, no holding back of tears.

"Yesterday morning... the Mattels took my family. My mother... my father... Faye here... and myself. We were bagged... and hauled away for exile on charges of conspiracy. My family were meant to be made examples of... to anyone who would stand up and fight back against the Mattels."

"How did you get back?!" Another voice inquired from the middle of the crowd.

"Where are your parents?!" Asked another.

"Are they still outside the walls?!" Yet another interrupted.

"It's all a lie!" Alana cried out, taking back control of the moment. "There is no exile!"

"What do you mean?!" A middle aged Kenner woman asked in anger, "I watched my husband get dragged away in the middle of the night! How dare you say that didn't happen!"

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Alana tried to clarify. "Please... this is hard enough as it is. I'm sorry, but... your husband is," the weeping girl paused, bracing herself for the backlash, "your husband is dead."

"How could you possibly know that?!" The woman snapped back.

Alana took a hard swallow before answering. "Because I watched my parents die... right before my eyes."

The crowd gasped and mumbled amongst each other once again, before quieting down and awaiting more information.

"For years," Alana continued, "when the Mattels came to claim the bodies of your deceased, they've secretly been... they've been consuming them!"

The crowd gasped again, this time with a few shrieks thrown in for good measure. All eyes turned to Faye, but Alana was not going to have any of that.

"Don't you dare place your blame on her! I've been guilty if the same, but I can only hope she can find it in her heart to forgive me." The Mattel in question answered her tiny love with another peck in the cheek. "Faye has stood with us from the beginning. She's the only reason I found out about what they were doing in the first place." Alana looked up at Faye with tear filled eyes, "she's the reason I'm standing here right now... I owe my life to her, and I love her with all my heart."

Another voice pulled Alana's attention back to the crowd, "you still haven't told us how you escaped exile!"

"The Mattels may have been eating our dead, but doing so made The Store's rations last far longer than they would have. It was done to spare the rest of us... at least that's how it started. What we've been calling 'exile' is really... a harvest. Our people are being taken in the night, away from your spouses... from your children... to be used as food."

"Absurd!" Leon yelled over the top of the gasping crowd. "What proof do you have of such ludicrous allegations?!"

"You want proof, you pompous bastard?!" Alana yelled in anger, "then just take a look at me! The blood that coats my skin belongs to my parents, and god knows how many others. It spilled down on me when Conrad Hartman murdered them himself! He forced me to watch... to listen to them scream as he forced long skewers into their bodies. Chunks of their burnt, greasy flesh fell down on me as he chewed the meat away from their bones. If there is a god, I pray that none of you ever have to experience the smell of cooking meat... and know that it's someone you love."

The crowd was left awestruck. Even Leon couldn't hide his horror as the color drained from his face.

"Their fate would have been mine as well... if not for Faye. They tortured her, pushed her far past the point that any one of us could handle. Yet somehow, she still found the strength to fight off two other Mattels and rescue me from certain death."

"Are they coming for us?!" Another panicked voice erupted from somewhere near the 'stage.' "Are my children safe?!"

"Most of the other Mattels still think that exile is real as well," Faye chimed in. "Only Conrad, his stooge of a grandson, and his inner circle are committing the murders. They've just using the rest of us to... deliver their meals." Just then, the reality of what she was saying struck her. The largest woman in the room shook her head, disgusted. "I'd like to think that if the others really knew what was going on, that they'd be just as mortified as the rest of us... but I don't know. Things have changed so much and so fast in the past few months. Hartman has so many of them under his thrall that they might do anything for him."

Out of the crowd, a familiar face stepped forward... Regina. She looked around at the horrified people surrounding her and then craned her neck upwards to the five perched above. "What would you have us do, Alana?"

Alana felt dizzy, on the verge of fainting... but she held on just long enough to finish her speech. "You know what has to be done. So many of us have been preparing for this day for many, many months... but waiting is no longer an option. The Mattels marched through your villages and destroyed your homes. They've starved and tortured us. They've murdered people you know and love... not just behind closed doors, but right in front of your very eyes! If you aren't angry, you damn well should be!"

"It's time to face the son-of-a-bitch... it's time to show him we aren't going to take any more of his shit! The five of us are going to march to the Stockroom door and face Conrad Hartman and his army head on. Our own army can't compare to theirs, but we have heart... and we have each other... and we have a reason to fight. We're fighting for our very right to live!" Alana made sure to add, "...and... we have a few surprises up our sleeves."


Sarah glanced at her bare shoulders and whispered to Rob, "We don't have any sleeves, should I have worn something else?"

Rob just laughed, "it's a figure of speech, you knucklehead."


"You have a right to live... and to be free. I can't think of a more just motive to fight for. I know I can count on all of you who've stood with me all this time, but who've also dreaded this day as long as I have..." Alana scanned the crowd one last time and proposed to the rest of the population, "... but what of the rest of you? Will you not stand with us now?"

Towards the back of the crowd, Leon and a host of Hasbros could be seen making their exit.

"Those fucking cowards," Roberta growled. "You just told them that they're nothing more than lunch meat and they still won't fight."

"Fuck em," Faye replied. "We don't need them."

Alana took in the crowd and asked them for a final time, "what's it gonna be?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The four Kenner women and their Mattel ally stood before the Stockroom door, its neck-breaking height almost inconceivable to their tiny eyes. The emptiness of Aisle 1, quite uncharacteristic for the rest of The Store, stretched out... vacant and uncomfortable. Like a vast plain leaving them exposed and vulnerable. They were nervous, but primed and ready for the next phase... the final phase. Sarah held a toothpick in her hands with a rectangle of paper taped to the end as a white flag. She wasn't quite sure of the significance of the symbolic gesture, but Keri had assured her that Conrad would understand its meaning.

"You girls ready," asked Faye as she stared down at Alana's bloody, but still gorgeous face.

"Do it," Lacey replied.

Faye stepped out of line and approached the door. She looked back one last time before pounding on its surface with a balled up fist. "Open up! Send out Constable Hartman!"

The door creaked open just enough for the face of the standing guard to poke out. She was a middle aged woman with a rat's nest for hair and a permanent frown cut into her face. "The fuck you want, traitor? You gotta lot of nerve showin' your face here."

Faye replied, "tell the boss that Faye and Alana of 17 are here. He'll understand."

"How 'bout you and your little shit-stain friends go fuck yourselves?" The haggard guard scoffed back.

Faye's arms sprung forward and pulled the door towards her. She planted a foot on the wall to brace herself as she held it tight. The woman's face was caught between the door and the frame, screaming for Faye to release her.

"I'm not going to ask again, cunt," Faye grunted. "Go get Hartman or your brains are going to decorate the edge of this door."

"Fine!" She screamed. Faye released the door and the woman slipped back inside, closing the massive gate behind her.

Faye turned back to find her tiny friends looking quite amused with her handling of the situation. Roberta was laughing outright and giving her giant comrade an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"I've always hated that bitch," Faye smirked.

The larger woman fell back in line with the others as they waited quietly and patiently to face the great villain of their time. Aisle 1 felt eerie... empty and desolate. It always had been, as the Mattels didn't allow for any kind of habitation in its great length. Alana realized as they waited that this was a tactical move on their part. Anyone or anything set on attacking the Stockroom would be seen coming from a distance. Well played, Hartman.

It was quiet, unnervingly so, something highly uncommon for The Store... which proved a bit too uncomfortable for Sarah.

"So... what do you guys wanna do tomorrow?" The little blonde asked the others to calm her own nerves.

The rest of the girls turned their heads to look back at their strange friend with amused bewilderment.

"Are you kidding?!" Rob laughed at the absurdity of the question.

"No... why? Did I say something funny?" Sarah asked out of genuine confusion.

"Well, we might die in the next few minutes, so making any kind of plans seems a little pointless... don't you think?" Rob explained through her building chuckle.

Sarah tried to elaborate, "I don't know... it just feels like... like all of this stuff has occupied every waking moment of every day for months... don't you think it'll be kinda nice to do something else?"

"Sheesh, Sarah! I'm sorry if our struggle for survival is starting to bore you!" Rob teased.

"I know what you mean," Lacey interrupted. "I think tomorrow... I might let Kevin and Reggie finally have a go at me."

"Lacey!" Sarah exclaimed.

"What? I think I've strung them along for long enough," The chocolate beauty laughed. "If we survive this, a role in the sock with a couple of dudes sounds like as perfect a way to celebrate as any."

"Sure... I guess," Sarah replied, still stunned to hear Lacey talk about sex, "but both of them?!"

"Girl! I'm more woman than either of those two could handle by themselves!" Lacey replied with confidence, placing a sassy hand on her hip. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about strappin' that handsome Hasbro boy on for a ride?!"

That quieted Sarah right up.

Alana placed a hand on Faye's leg, thinking about what Lacey had said about being more than one person could handle. She craned her neck up at her immense girlfriend and joked, "I can relate." Faye blushed in response.

"Ick! I can do without the mental image of the two of you trying to start a brush fire between the sheets!" Rob rudely mocked. "I don't even wanna think about how you two pull that shit off!"

Faye just snarked back, "no one's ever made me feel as good as Alana, Rob... we'd be happy to show you how it's done when this is all over..."

Roberta put her fingers in her ears and closed her eyes, "stop! Gross, gross, gross!"

Sarah was confused by all of it. How could 'burning brushes' feel good? And, if Alana and Faye had access to brushes, why would they burn them up when she could have used them for her artwork?! The ditzy blonde had that same perplexed look she always got when confronted by something she couldn't understand, so Alana just told her not to worry about it.

But... she did worry about it... privately... all day.

The five... save for Sarah... shared a good, relieving laugh...


...and then the Stockroom door creaked open.



End Chapter Thirty

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-One-"The Secret Life of Conrad Hartman, Part 1"




On the day of "The Rapture," Sheriff Conrad Hartman had not actually been inventorying the ammunition stock in the station basement as he claimed. He was, in fact, at home... in his own basement, enjoying his lunch. A dimly lit and unfinished basement may seem like a strange place to savor a home-cooked meal, but for Conrad, there was no place on earth he'd rather be. A fried slab of meat in front of him and a little company... THIS... this was his happy place. The same can't be said for the girl strung up and dangling from the ceiling.

She was young... college aged. Becky Sanderson was her name. She had been on vacation in Silverfalls to do a little hiking in the mountains, her favorite pastime. Becky tended to enjoy hiking alone, finding that she enjoyed the experience more when she could do so at her own pace and not held back by others. It also made for great background scenery for her popular health and wellness channel on YouTube. She had gained quite a following over the past couple of years for her yoga videos, so people would most certainly notice she had gone missing. As she hung limply from her tied wrists with a soggy gag stuffed in her mouth, she wished more than anything that she hadn't made the mistake of coming alone.

Conrad, on the other hand, found her choice most fortunate. Such was his M.O. He always wondered why anyone, especially women, would risk going into the wilderness on their own... but he was glad that they did and that they continued to do so. That's when the game could begin.

Becky had picked a lovely, secluded spot to camp out in the woods... away from any other people... yet another mistake on her part. Hunting her wasn't even particularly sporting for the seasoned stalker that Hartman had become. The sheriff simply entered her tent under the cover of darkness and chloroformed the young woman before she ever knew what hit her. He tossed her limp body in the back of his state-provided SUV and returned to the campsite to rummage through her belongings. Conrad would normally leave everything as is, all except her phone that is. That he would leave on a rock or in the hollow of a tree on the other side of the valley, specifically to throw off search and rescue when they were eventually dispatched.

------------

As anyone with, we'll call them 'unconventional tastes,' learns early on in life, those predilections are best kept to themselves. It's interesting how even at a young age, someone like Conrad can figure out that they're... different. The child's mother certainly saw it in her son, but instead of conventional therapy, she chose a more... hands on approach... in the most literal sense. Deborah Hartman swore that if the devil wouldn't leave the boy on its own accord, then she'd sure as hell beat it out of him if necessary.

This is how Conrad learned to hide his emotions... and his pain.

The young boy showed signs early on of high intelligence, but as the years went by, that seemed to fade away. This was by Conrad's own design. He had little interest in toys and comics like the other kids... only satisfying his secret urges. But he had to blend in, so in order to do so, the crafty youngster manufactured a sort of... character, an alter ego. A simpleton... a bully. Something that would let him live out some of his darker fantasies while masked in the commonplace at the same time... so close to the hidden truth, yet ultimately unrevealing.

It was all a performance, one that young Conrad learned to thoroughly enjoy as he perfected his craft. He didn't just use his alter ego with the other kids either. When backed into a corner by the teachers, or any other adults for that matter, the blossoming sociopath made sure to keep a keen ear to their conversations. Everyone had dirt... everyone had secrets. More than once he managed to weasel his way out of trouble with the hidden knowledge he'd collected.

Conrad may not have had use for most childish things... but he did love games.

No matter how many times Deborah caught her son doing unspeakable things to the neighborhood pets, he still found more ways to surprise her with his keenness for cruelty. Even her incessant beatings couldn't cure the disturbed boy of his wickedness. Conrad learned to take the pain... even enjoy it.

As the Hartman boy entered into his teenage years, his hormones kicked into full throttle, like any other boy his age. The already mixed-up wires in his broken mind criss-crossed and twisted into even more worrying knots. The nightly beatings his mother provided took on a whole different feel... and the pain became arousing. His mother tried to beat that out of him as well, but the Conrad Hartman we know had already begun to take shape. Everyone is capable of monstrous acts, but young Conrad seemed destined for them.

Dating proved particularly difficult for him. The tenderness that young girls sought was not to be found in young Hartman. He had grown incapable of emotional attachment. What few girls approached him were there to satisfy him carnally, and nothing else. The warm closeness of a beautiful young girl, the trembling and butterflies in the stomach that comes with young love... these things would evade Conrad. Only the violence that had taken him could offer sweet release... and the sweet taste of their soft, nubile skin.

On his eighteenth birthday, Conrad found his mother dead in her bedroom from a self inflicted gunshot to the head. A strange sight to behold from such a devout Christian woman, indeed. She had created a monster. Birthed it and nurtured its monstrous nature, and the guilt that came with the clarity that she had done so finally took her. Conrad had little emotion about the event... only that he wished she would have let him pull the trigger.

-------------

In a surprise to all who knew him, the young man would be deputized by the town sheriff, Winston Woodlock, less than a year later. The old lawman sympathized with young Conrad after the investigation into his mother's suicide, and took a shine to him... or at least the version of Hartman that the orphaned boy wanted the sheriff to see. In Woodlock's naive eyes, Conrad was only a misunderstood and lost boy, just needing someone to take him under his wing and give him direction. The humorous irony that he of all people would be selected for a law enforcement position was not lost on Conrad. He treated the job like anything else in his life... a performance... a new game... one with so much new potential.

A particular incident of note came when a local woman accused Conrad of assault and attempted rape. Sheriff Woodlock was forced to arrest his own deputy and the young man spent the night in jail. Conrad wasn't worried... just like in his childhood, he had remained very observant. The trait actually made him an exemplary police officer, with the exception of his secret extracurricular proclivities of course. If fate had chosen another path for Conrad Hartman, he could have made a fine detective in the big city. But the orphaned young man had other plans, and he was right where he wanted to be.

The next day, much to the accuser's protests, Conrad was released. The sheriff claimed there was no evidence to prove his deputy had done any wrong, and the case was dropped. In truth, the devious Deputy Hartman had done some snooping on his mentor's laptop in his spare time, and found that the kindly town sheriff had some secrets of his own. Conrad wasn't the only one on the force with 'unconventional tastes,' and his knowledge of a certain file folder, filled with pictures of underdressed young boys, could prove valuable one day. And it did.

The only lesson Conrad would take away from the experience: no local women.

For the next six years, Sheriff Woodlock and Conrad held to an uncomfortable understanding: you don't step on my toes and I won't step on yours. With Woodlock turning a blind eye, Conrad was finally able to explore his own dark nature and everything that came with it. Lots of pretty tourists showed up in the summer months, each one ripe for the picking... and he couldn't wait to... taste them.

Woodlock would retire after Conrad's sixth year on the force, then pass away seven months after that... leaving his sole deputy as the new sheriff of Silverfalls.

------------

People go missing in the mountains on a regular basis. They fall into old mines or caves, get mauled and dragged away by predators. In Silverfalls though, one particular predator, the deadliest in the region, wore a badge. His position offered him the perfect cover. Over the years, Conrad learned to assist search and rescue in the recovery of lost hikers to keep the spotlight off from himself, all the while keeping his victims bound and gagged in his basement of his mother's house. This was his favorite performance... this was his favorite game.

It was in the midst of his latest game with the young Ms. Sanderson that a call came in over the police radio that so rudely interrupted Conrad's lunch. Seems there had been some kind of incident over at the Nelson home. The wife had been seen hauling ass through town in her jeep when dispatch received a complaint from one of her neighbors.

Keri Nelson... maiden name Walker. Oh how Conrad loathed her. Throughout his school years she had been a thorn in his side. He may have been playing his role as school bully to an eventual Oscar nomination, but somehow... she was the only one who saw right though him. He had to be particularly careful around her, allowing her to humiliate him from time to time just to throw her off his sent. Looking at his current captive, he wished it was Keri hanging there instead. But alas, it couldn't be...

...remember, Conrad... no local women.

The sheriff inhaled his slab of pan-scalded tissue and wiped the grease and steak sauce from his face. He stood up, adjusted his belt, and then examined his work on the terrified blonde he continued to hold against her will. The cauterized stumps where her lower legs once dangled were holding up nicely, no blood dripping from the wounds... no sign of infection. The new cut, extracted from her thigh and fitting the exact shape and dimensions of the steak which he had just consumed, was patched with sterile gauze and duct tape. Normally, Conrad would burn a carving that large until the blood stopped flowing... but duty called.

That night, Conrad was held awake by the perplexing events he'd witnessed in town. Thoughts of the goings on with the townsfolk were rarely of any real importance to the sheriff, but there was something strange about all those piles of empty clothes. He still lived in his mother's house, just passed the outskirts of town... a huge convenience for him when his victims started to scream. There had been quite a bit of building around him in recent years as more and more affluence threatened to take over the valley like a prefab virus. Perhaps he'd have to invest in soundproofing the basement in the not too distant future.

Disappearances in the county were rare when not caused by him, so seeing the majority of a town's people vanish into thin air... right out of their clothing, was something worthy of his thoughts. A strange event such as this could attract serious attention from the outside, and the 'bumbling' sheriff of Silverfalls could potentially be unmasked for the monster he really was.

----------------

Groggily falling out of bed the following morning as his phone began to ring off the hook, Conrad was met with the surprise of his life. The world had grown overnight, even the flannel boxers he had slept in. Any normal person would have struggled to process such a troubling and fantastic event, but Conrad Hartman was anything but normal. Tying the corner of his shorts in a knot at his waist to hold them in place, he darted towards the basement stairs. His worrying suspicion was instantly validated as he turned the oversized knob, now remarkably at eye level.

There, at the bottom of the stairs, was the girl... Becky. She too had been afflicted with the same affliction as he, enough to shrink away from her binds and drop to the concrete floor. She was trying to crawl up the stairs, but the absence of her lower extremities had halted any progress of trying to scale the newly immense steps.

Conrad turned and ran to one of the kitchen drawers, its handle now just as high as the doorknob, and felt around inside until his shrunken fingers located a large kitchen knife. At this point, any knife would have been large to the gradually shrinking man. Whatever was happening to him was concerning for sure, but the risk of being found out was always at the forefront of his mind.

The moment the young woman saw Conrad return to the top of the old, crooked staircase with an enormous blade, any progress she had made was nulled and voided. She rolled away and fell back down the four steps she managed to scale, landing with a thud on the cold, grey floor of the basement.

Hartman carefully made his way down the steps, each of them now twice as high or more than they were the previous day. Catching his captive wasn't much of a challenge, as the poor girl was weak and crippled. The terrified Becky Sanderson pleaded for her life, even as the blade carved a deep... red... drooling smile across her neck. When the gargling and flailing finally ceased, Conrad stared down at the pathetic lifeless body, shaking his head... such terrible waste of rare and delicious meat.

The sheriff backed away from the growing pool of red so as not to risk tracking bloody footprints throughout the house. Even he thought it strange to be thinking about how much it would upset his late mother if he ruined her immaculate floors. The blood found its way to the floor drain, and Conrad found himself transfixed on watching the crimson fluid circle its way into the dark. It wasn't until he heard the phone ring once again that he was able to shake off the hypnotism and concentrate on what his next move should be. He tightened his oversized shorts and climbed back up the stairs on all fours.

----------

Whatever was happening to him seemed to be happening everywhere, at least that's what they were saying on the television that morning. The president, looking especially pathetic in his ill-fitting children's suit, had instructed the nation to band together with others where there were supplies. So, that's exactly what Conrad would do... it was time to step into his bumbling town sheriff persona and head into town. The long walk on bare feet from the edge of the city did little to help with his souring mood after just having to leave a perfectly good victim behind.

Conrad played his role to perfection, as usual. He played nice, helped usher people into Rasmussen's Grocery as they too continued to shrink away... all the while consumed with worry about the dead girl on his basement floor.

Was she still shrinking,' he wondered.

Was all of this to be an exercise in futility? Were they all doomed to disappear like those people in the streets the day previous? Terror gripped the hearts of every soul entering the store that day... except Conrad Hartman. He mostly felt... inconvenienced. He had the perfect setup for his unique needs... so what the hell was he supposed to do now?

The following day's humiliation during the first storewide town hall, and at the hands of none other than Keri Nelson, only made matters worse. Trapped in a grocery store and at the size of a fucking Ken doll. He knew he would no longer be able to hunt... no locals, remember? It doesn't get much more local than sharing a gigantic roof with thousands of others. On top of it all... there was the fact that that little Nelson bitch... and she really was little now, may have robbed him of his position as peace officer as well.

That was just the beginning of it. With each passing day... each passing month... every concluding year, Conrad's dark urges tortured him. He knew he couldn't give in, but abstinence only made him... hungrier. With so many people confined to one location, the residents of Rasmussen's Grocery had become quite acquainted with one another... he'd never get away with it. Watching Keri, and her whipped little dog of a husband, thrive in this living hell only made it worse. How he longed to ring her neck...

...how he longed to taste her flesh.

A psychologist might have argued that Conrad's violent urges towards women were directly linked to his hatred for his mother. The man himself was well aware of this, yet he never truly felt any ill feelings towards those he had killed and consumed, not like the seething hatred he held for his departed mum. His victims were simply there for him to use as he wished, material. Keri was different... Conrad hadn't hated anyone with such an intense passion since his old lady last paddled his backside.

Forced into remedial work, unable to hunt his favorite prey, sexually frustrated to the point of madness... the former sheriff didn't know how much more he could take. Suicide began to enter his thinking, but never more than just idle thoughts. Such a unique specimen as he would never allow himself to go out so... commonly. The need to kill scratched at him day after day... all the while focusing that into his maddening hatred for Keri. He became increasingly focused on her. Whether or not she had earned his abhorrence mattered little to Conrad. He would make her suffer, and this lone thought kept him going.

------------

It was never Conrad's plan to kill Keri's husband Alan. When he backed that coffee can over the edge of the shelf during the feline invasion, it was always intended for her. None of it had been planned actually. The enormous cats had forced him into hiding, self preservation being paramount for any self-respecting serial killer. It was there, perched high on the top shelf overlooking the chaos below, that he saw her, struggling... vulnerable. In the bedlam that had taken over The Store, Conrad saw his chance.

Everyone in The Store was running for their lives or trying to fight back the clowder onslaught. The canister, with the word "Folgers" printed across its side, tilted over the edge... seeming to fall in slow motion as he gave it its final nudge. Conrad could feel it in his heart, the rush that killing always supplied him... along with the inevitable erection. There was no controlling it... it had been far too long for that.

At the last second, that weakling of a man had stepped in and saved his wretched bitch of a wife. It was unfortunate, but Conrad learned something new about himself that night. Watching Alan disappear beneath the giant coffee can was more than enough to push him over the edge. It had been so long since the he'd felt such pleasure that he ejaculated without even needing to touch himself. Conrad had always considered himself straight, as far as his urges were concerned, but perhaps he swung both ways when it came to murder. Coming down from his orgasm high had hampered his senses momentarily. Nothing else was happening in his world, at least not until he caught the figure of the woman he loathed above all others staring back from far below.

The satiated murder ducked out of view. This was not good. Too much time away from his favorite pastime had made him sloppy. He had to think fast. He hopped across the divide between aisles and shimmied his way down a corner support to the floor. Luck would have it that a wave of others his same relative size were making a push against the feline terrors. The perfect alibi. Conrad wasted little time joining them in their fight, an act of heroism to mask his irredeemable act. And what a performance he gave, fighting side by side with the others, driving back the whiskered menace and saving The Store.

Of course, when things finally quieted down, the accusation came. The Nelson woman had him tried, but nothing came of it. Another masterclass in manipulation from the master manipulator himself saw to that. During his own trial, the crafty former lawman turned the entire thing around and made it all about the lack of any law enforcement within The Store. What's a lie under oath when the safety of The Store's inhabitants were at stake? Its not like there was a bible small enough for him to swear upon... or even believed in if there was.

In the end, Conrad became Store Constable and began to deputize others of the same size under his leadership. It was under his suggestion that anyone large enough to fight back against another animal attack should move into the Stockroom, to defend the rest of the more vulnerable peoples. In reality, he had other motives for doing so. Keri had always been able to see through his bullshit, but his acquittal had turned her into a defeated recluse. Conrad was finally free of the only person who was smart enough to figure out what he had planned. The isolation of the Stockroom was only the beginning.

It had started as a simple idea during a sleepless night that kept expanding into something more. As stated before, Conrad had always loved games. He may no longer have been able to engage in the one he loved so dearly, but a new one could prove equally compelling. It would take years, even decades to see it through, but it's not like he had anywhere to go. A loooong game to pass the years. Seeing the sorrow he had caused Keri fueled a new feeling he didn't even know he desired... why stop with breaking just one person?

Killing Alan Nelson had freed Conrad from years of pent up frustration. It got his gears turning again, but like a thirsty man's cracked lips finally passing water...

...it only made him realize how hungry he was.




End Chapter Thirty-One

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Two-"The Secret Life of Conrad Hartman, Part 2"




Ramirez... Bundy... Gacy... Son of Sam... The Zodiac... Dahmer, Conrad Hartman had studied them all. They were his heroes.

Growing up, the boy had thrived on true crime television. It was the lone interest he and his mother shared. She'd watch casually, sipping vodka straight from the bottle while her son took mental notes as he stared wide-eyed at the flickering screen. He was enamored with what these men had... er... accomplished. Young Conrad was secretly enamored with Ted Bundy above all the others in the way most other children idolized someone like LeBron James.

It wasn't just celebrity serial killers that fascinated Conrad, but mass murderers and dictators as well. Stalin, Hitler... the twisted child could only dream of inflicting that kind of carnage on such an impressive scale. He remembered first reading about Hitler's cattle cars full of Jews... how they were gassed and then cremated in constantly roaring ovens. Such a waste of human life, he often thought to himself... they could have fed their entire military with that much meat.

The most important thing Conrad took away from his favorite television programs was how not to get caught. Every one of his idols had tripped up by getting too sure of themselves, leaving clues... almost daring the police to catch them. Even the dictators he admired had fallen from power by biting off more than they could chew.

In adulthood, Conrad liked the little niche he'd managed to carve out (pun intended) for himself in the mountains. Keeping a low profile while remaining in the public eye was perfect for his needs, and always kept those lessons learned from consuming hours of tabloid television in the back of his mind.

With those days long in the past, the new status quo forced Conrad to become more... creative.

--------------

Seeing how much of the tilling fields had been filled with the dead after the Night of Rain and Fangs, the scheming psychopath had an idea. People would continue to die, and not necessarily by his hands... such is just nature. There were plenty of elderly residing in The Store, having left their summer cabins behind on the day of The Rapture. Who's to say how many others might perish just from trying to survive in this harsh new existence. What if he could convince the council that consuming the dead could spare them precious resources in the future?

It was a risky idea, but not without historical merit. Throughout human history, desperate peoples had been forced into cannibalism to ensure survival, so why should they be any different?

Especially when the majority of the population looked so deliciously snack sized.

Year after year, Conrad was shot down, the idea of consuming one's neighbors being, understandably, too gruesome and morbid a concept to be accepted by civilized folk. All the while, the Constable bided his time. The idea was placed in their minds like a tiny seed... now he just had to wear them down and wait for it to grow.

The Constable spent his days with the other Mattels, training to combat whatever terrors the mountains might have in store for them. His police training had involved learning basic fighting skills, which came in quite handy when one of his victims got a little out of hand. It was exclusive knowledge and training to him, but he happily passed it on to others of his stature. In reality... Conrad was preparing for a coup, just like his dictator heroes of days past.

A coup... one where he became supreme ruler of The Store. Thousands of tasty little Kenners to fill his belly and an army to bring them to him... well... at least not yet. He'd have to wait until his people had the numbers to take on such a feat, which at the time, they did not have.

There was no rush... no timetable... to Conrad it was all just a game, something to occupy his mind and time in the monotony of the day to day. He never expected this game to last for decades, but last it did. Playing Constable, preparing his peers for whatever version of battle that decided to reveal itself, keeping tabs on the Nelson woman... wanting every day of her life to be filled with misery. These things kept him distracted enough to ignore the ever-present hunger... it was still there, lying dormant like a sleeping volcano beneath all the lies... waiting for its time in the sun.

That it was his idea to implement "exile," should come as no surprise. The concept didn't require as much convincing as systematic cannibalism did either. Hartman even used Keri's case against him as an example. Should a murder actually take place within The Store's walls, the perpetrator certainly couldn't be allowed to remain inside for the safety of the whole. They could be forced out of the breech in the Stockroom roof and down the rain gutter, thereby saving the council from the "nasty" task of execution. The humor in the dark irony of it all was not lost on Conrad. He had no intention of sending perfectly good prey away, and murder would not be the only crime worthy of exile. Like everything else he was plotting, those things took time to develop.

The Store Council voted the proposition of exile into place unanimously.

--------------

As the decades passed, the food supply proved to dwindle faster than anticipated. Even Dan Rasmussen's stockpile of holy-roller apocalypse buckets was depleting. The council tried to keep the situation under wraps... and that's when they began to entertain Conrad's twisted ideas. He even "volunteered" the Mattels for the unthinkable duty in secret, that way the rest of The Store could be "spared" from having to engage in such a longstanding taboo. They'd collect the dead themselves, then the rest of the population would never have to know what became of their dearly departed.

Now that he was finally chipping away at the council, Conrad had to figure out how to convince the other Mattels that the eating of human flesh was not only their duty... but their right. That was it... his way in. With the entire Mattel population now residing within the Stockroom, keeping them separate from the smaller population was more important than ever. They needed to know they were superior, Conrad's Mattels in place of Hitler's Aryans.. the future fuhrer of Rasmussen's Grocery.

As it always is when the masses are in need of controlling... religion provided the answer.

If the rest could be turned to his way of thinking, a mindset where the Mattels were... chosen... somehow, the aspiring dictator could get his people to see the rest as lesser beings... as subjects... as cattle. Out of all of his many schemes, this one would prove the most difficult and time consuming.

After decades of waiting, plotting, and holding back his desires, Conrad awoke one morning and found himself strangely focused on his hands. He hadn't paid them much mind before, and why should he? But that morning was different. He couldn't believe how rough and cracked they looked, how wrinkled and boney. How old. The trip up his ladder to his desktop perch felt longer and more taxing with each passing day. Time and age had snuck up on the former sheriff of Silverfalls.

He'd lived his life in that self-imposed prison of the Stockroom to the best of his ability, given the circumstances. He'd fucked more than his share of devotees, none of them with enough imagination to hold his interest, but one of them had born him a child... and later a grandchild. This young boy began to show some, we'll call it... potential. He seemed to enjoy the taste of flesh as much as his dear old grandfather, but Conrad himself had grown tired of the dried up, pruny corpses of senior citizens.

Hartman wanted young, fresh meat... the kind that old age and natural death so rarely provide. For him, the cuts of Leah were far more savory and rewarding when it came from great suffering... prey he had tortured and killed with his own hands. He'd survived on baloney, but craved filet mignon. Hartman was ready to set things in motion. The population of Mattels had more than doubled since The Rapture, and his army was well trained. The aging man wanted to kill, and he'd be goddamned if he was going to spend his twilight years longing for the long lost pleasures of his youth.

And just for good measure, why not make Keri suffer even more? She was no longer a prominent figure in The Store, but Conrad hadn't forgotten about her... oh no. He'd had people keeping tabs on her over the years. She had a young family to use against her now, and that made things even more exciting.

------------

Taking control away from the Store Council proved to be a piece of cake. Realistically, what could any of them have done to stop him? Conrad's coup came and went flawlessly. He had a fresh supply of victims literally brought to his feet on a daily basis. The entire Store feared what he was capable of. It was exhilarating for the old Constable... his only wish being that he was still young enough to fully revel in his dominion. Goddamn his frustrating erectile dysfunction! He often wondered if there might be any viagra stashed away in someone's pockets, buried deep within the mountain of clothing by the restrooms. With hundreds at his beck and call, perhaps he finally had the manpower to find out.

The growing resistance out in the aisles didn't actually bother Conrad as much as he let on. In fact, he welcomed it! What fun was a game without a worthy opponent? Their cute little propaganda posters, the secret midnight meetings... of which the little creatures thought he was oblivious to.

When strolling through Aisle 1 one day, he even found a single ashen footprint. If there were more to accompany it, the Constable probably wouldn't have paid it a second thought. There had been an effort to erase the rest, and this lone, Kenner-sized track was missed. The toes pointed directly towards the browser... it seemed Conrad's unwilling subjects had been up to some kind of clandestine activity. Temptation urged him to take a peek behind the kickplate, but then... what sport would there be in that? He had plenty of tricks up his own sleeve, including his pile of explosives.

What could creatures as small as the Kenners possibly think they could do against his trained batch of warriors? Allowing them hope in the short time would make it all the sweeter when he crushed their pitiful resistance later... when he could see the color drain from their pathetic little faces, realizing that he was their new god. But, for the time being, even Boyd needed to think his grandfather was worried about the uprising... another performance.

-------------

Conrad stepped out from the cracked Stockroom door to behold a curious sight, indeed. A lineup of four tiny women, and one of his own kind that had betrayed him... not that he really felt all that betrayed... Faye's subterfuge only made the game more interesting. With young Tony found murdered by her skilled hands, Conrad did regret not torturing her himself, knowing he wouldn't have been so sloppy. The boy seemed to enjoy inflicting pain as much as his aging leader, but his youth and naïveté proved his undoing. When the inevitable checkmate in this match had been called, Conrad intended to make Faye suffer, for as long as he pleased... and in ways she couldn't begin to imagine. He'd relish every second of it.

The one in the middle, the pretty little redhead... their leader, the Constable had already been well acquainted with. Chewing the tender meat from her parents' bones and swallowing it down greedily, all while the poor girl looked on helplessly and hopelessly, had been the single most pleasurable experience of his shrunken life. Conrad couldn't wait to engage with her once again.

A grin began to crack his wrinkled face as he confidently approached the female party gathered under the white flag. The thought of forcing Alana to watch him do the same thing to her friends as he did to her kin was just too exciting a fantasy to be hidden behind forced stoicism. This time he'd make her grandmother Keri watch as well, keeping the old bitch locked up for the rest of her life... like a pet.

To force the last members of the Nelson clan to watch as he consumed more of their pathetically tiny race made his heart with excitement. Then, when both had been driven to the brink of madness, Keri would watch her lovely little granddaughter scream for her life as he consumed her bit by bit... morsel by morsel... and all while the young woman was still alive. A light flutter from Conrad's member, buried beneath his rat-fur robe, was a pleasant and welcomed surprise. Perhaps all was not as dormant down there as he thought.

Unfortunately, this appeared to be the climax to this particular game, one he'd orchestrated to perfection. One that had occupied him with his own sick version of hope for two generations. These five girls wouldn't be lined up before him if they weren't ready to make their final stand. As much as he wanted to claim his hard earned victory, when playing a game for as long as he had, he was sorry to see that it was coming to its inevitable conclusion. One could almost admire what Conrad had accomplished with such cunning and patience, perhaps... save for the monster lurking behind that smile. A mind so dark and wicked, to gaze into it's depths carries with it the risk of falling in yourself.

The would-be dictator shook off his nostalgic remorse and pushed forward. Just because this game had to end didn't mean there weren't new ones to be played. He just had more pawns to work with now.

Conrad marched forward, sure in his victory... but unbeknownst to him, he had slipped up. It's difficult to explain, but TOO MANY things had gone his way. He had gone untouched, unbeaten... forgetting the inner pain of humiliation and defeat. The man had learned nothing from his murderous predecessors... he had grown over confident and arrogant in his old age. His self-assured cock-walk towards what he considered to be a greeting party of feminine inferiority did nothing to hide how much he'd underestimated his opposition.

And underestimated them he truly had.




End Chapter Thirty-Two

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Three-"The Good, The Bad, and the Tiny"




There was no controlling it. The heightened heart rate, the tightening muscles, the urge to run away, but unable to do so when the fear threatened to take her once again. Alana stood side by side with her friends, but as the Great Satan of their time approached, any courage she had arrived with was hastily making its retreat.

The diminutive redhead's mind flashed back to the toolbox, and the terrible events that took place there not a day prior. Her mother's face in agony as the wooden kabob skewer was pressed further inside her, agonizingly slow... until the life left her eyes and the splintered tip exited her mouth. Evelyn's lifeless arms getting easily ripped away from her father's grasp as Bennett desperately tried to pull his wife from death's inevitability.

Then, even as the dutiful father tried to shield his daughter from the bloodthirsty psychopath looming above them, he too was snatched away... piked... and consumed. Their blood coated Alana's body still, and the odor of their slow-cooked flesh lingered in her nostrils. In a world full of monsters, none scared her more than the grinning evil that drew ever closer.

"That's close enough, Hartman," Faye ordered, stopping Conrad a few steps away with an extended hand, "we can talk from here."

Conrad halted in place and raised his hands to show that he was unarmed. "Alright then. It pleases me to see you girls have decided to turn yourselves in," he gloated, while gesturing to the white flag in Sarah's hands.

Sarah, in response, looked up at the un-waving paper flag herself, "is that what this means?!"

"Relax, Sarah," Lacey ordered quietly, never taking her eyes off of Conrad. "No one is surrendering."

"Tsk tsk," Conrad replied smugly, "that's a shame... could have just saved your entire people from the coming slaughter." He stared down at Alana, his penetrating gaze rarely leaving her for the remainder of the conversation.

Alana was still locked up with terror, trying so very hard to conceal it. She still hadn't said a word.

"So," Conrad began, "I'm your audience... what would you little ladies like to discuss?"

"I don't understand why we don't just kill him right now?!" Rob growled through clenched teeth.

In response, Conrad placed a pair of fingers under his tongue and whistled. Within seconds, a dozen of his armed soldiers marched through the narrowly cracked door. Each of them was decked out in full battle armor. Aluminum plates, cut and pounded out from the endless supply of spent cans that littered The Store, hung on each soldier were tailor made for their wearer. Grasped in their hands were an array of stainless steel cutlery, screwdrivers, or tent pegs... all bent and twisted and ground down to deadly sharpness. A red, painted sunburst patten graced the center of every breastplate, a symbol that the girls (save for Faye) had never seen... the Mattel Inc. logo. An inside joke for those old enough to know. Whoever said Conrad lacked a sense of humor?

The colossal young men and women lined up in front of the Stockroom door and stood tall and proud with their weapons resting against their shoulders. Just as Faye had described, the lower halves of their bodies were far more armored than the upper, as if the very notion of anyone as small as the Kenners were could do damage anywhere else. The steel weapons though, that surprised even Faye.

"Are... are their weapons made of metal?" Lacey worriedly asked Faye. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I... I didn't... I didn't know," Faye stammered, just as shocked as the rest.

"She's telling the truth," Conrad continued to gloat, "it's a system known as 'compartmentalization.' Not letting the right hand know what the left is doing, essentially. I couldn't let all my secrets out knowing there were spies like our lovely Faye here snooping about." Conrad cracked another grin, still focused solely on Alana. "I have so many more surprises in store than that."

The girls... with the exception of Alana, who was still locked in a nightmarish staring contest with Conrad, glanced at one another while still trying to maintain their best poker faces. For the first time, Conrad would break his eye-hold on Alana and direct his attention to Faye.

"My, my... Faye. Beautiful Faye! You look terrible! I guess Tony really did a number on you, didn't he?" The old man snarked through false concern.

"It's nothing compared to the number I did on him," she sneered back. She added, "your mindless drones back there find Ben head yet?"

Conrad was quite amused with her response and chuckled a little to himself. "You've always been a hell of soldier, Faye. There's still a place for you in line if you cross back over to our side."

Conrad's mind games had begun.

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Faye replied.

"I know it must be hard for you to trust me after what I had done to you, but I'm not lying," he tried to assure her. "You may see me as a monster, and I suppose that is what I am, but I'm not incapable of kindness and forgiveness. There's an old saying, ''tis better to serve in heaven than rule in hell.' I can assure you this, Faye... there is only hell to be found from here on out, no matter what side you choose. So I ask you just this one last time... will you serve... or will you rule?"

"I'm where I belong," Faye responded proudly and without hesitation.

"Have it your way," Conrad conceded, "it's a generous offer, especially considering your crimes. Much more than you deserve."

"And what about your crimes?" Faye snapped back. "When do you pay for yours?"

Conrad returned his gaze to Alana and resumed his devious grinning. "How can I possibly be guilty of any wrongdoing when I alone determine what constitutes criminal activity?"

Faye ground her teeth, fighting back the urge to snap the bastard's neck. She was mere seconds away from ending his life, armed sentries be damned. But like Conrad had said, Faye was a hell of a soldier. She wouldn't act unless Alana instructed her to do so... and at that moment, Alana was petrified with existential terror.

With another whistle, Conrad waved one of his soldiers closer. The young brunette woman, Ashlee was her name, ran briskly to greet her commander... eager to impress.

"Yes, sir!" She hollered upon arrival.

Conrad gestured towards Faye, "would you be so kind as to fetch Faye's armor for her?"

"Huh?" Faye cocked her head back in shocked confusion.

"Sir?" Ashlee asked, equally stunned.

"Our Faye here is pretty banged up," Conrad stated with more false sincerity, "She's in no shape for a fight, but if the Kenners are insisting on one, the poor girl's gonna need her armor, isn't she?"

"Sir... does that seem wise?" Ashlee questioned again.

"Do you think I don't know what I'm doing, girl?!" Conrad snapped back, showing his true, menacing nature.

"Uh... no, sir... I mean yes, sir... um... I mean... I'll go get them... I mean...," Ashlee stuttered, then ran back towards the Stockroom... but not before shooting a disapproving look in Faye's direction.

"What are you playing at now, you old bastard?" Faye sighed with contempt.

"Why... nothing at all, my dear. If you and your pint-sized friends here insist on challenging me, I want you... their best and strongest warrior, even in your weakened condition... to have a fighting chance." Conrad eased himself down to the floor and crossed his aged, aching legs in front of him, still fixed on the trembling redhead. "Trust me, little ones... you're going to need all the help you can get."

There was a brief moment of silence before Conrad broke it with more of his slimy intimidation tactics. "Now... should you five turn yourselves in right now... your lives will obviously be forfeit, but you have my word that your families will be spared. I guess... what's left of yours, Alana."

The others had joined Alana in frightened silence.

Seeing that he really had their attention now, the Constable continued with his offer, "but... should you choose to continue with this foolhardy endeavor... I promise you... your people will suffer. Terribly. I'm talking death on a scale you can't even fathom. Men... women... children".. all will succumb to my wrath. I'll wipe the Kenners from the earth... and gorge myself on their flesh. Do you understand, my cute little rebels?"

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Earlier that morning...




"...I'll ask again... will you fight with me?!" Alana pleaded with the crowd of thousands.

An uncomfortable silence held those gathered firm... and Alana feared she had lost them. But then... Keri stepped forward. She was crying, still trying to process the news of her daughter and son-in-law's gruesome demise. The old woman forced her crippling emotions down... then shouted...

"Of course I'm with you, my dear!"

Another voice pledged their service... then another. Before long, Alana's army were chanting her name in unison. The contagious energy coursed through the crowd and even those who weren't a part of the resistance began to chant as well. Every Kenner and Hasbro in attendance was unified for the first time in decades, and Alana's name echoed throughout the men's room. Even the friends that stood by her side from the beginning joined in the rally to arms. It was a sight both overwhelming and awe-inspiring at once. Alana was already in tears after describing what happened to her parents, but suddenly... they came as a result of being moved by the unprecedented sight before her. She raised her first... and the entire crowd did the same..

"To war then!"

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"No."

It was the first time Alana had spoke since Conrad graced them with his presence.

"Oh! Look! She speaks!" The Constable exclaimed. "What was that again, little lady?"

Alana perked up. She rolled her shoulders back and held her head up high, glaring at Conrad with such a fire blazing in her eyes. The fear was still there, but clarity and intent had returned to her once again. The nervous Kenner stepped forwards... closer to the evil she knew she had to face... then called his bluff.

"No," she repeated. "You won't. You're not going to kill anyone."

"I think I've made myself pretty clear," Conrad replied.

Alana continued to approach the sitting Constable. The fear that held her was fading fast. It's like she had just received some kind of divine revelation.... she knew they were going to win... they were going to bring Conrad Hartman down. "I've seen what's left of the food supply, Conrad. When Faye rescued me... when we were rushing to escape the Stockroom. I saw it. There's enough to last, what... two, maybe three more years?"

Conrad cocked his head to the side, wondering where she was going with this. What he didn't realize was that Alana could see through his bullshit, just as her grandmother Keri could.

She took another step forward. "We're all there is left... and you're not going to risk wasting your precious herd, are you Conrad?"

The word Faye had used... cattle.



Cattle.



It kept repeating in Alana's head.

If the Kenners' destiny was to serve as nothing more than a food supply for the Mattels, then there's no way Conrad was going to slaughter them en mass. This was it... what Alana had been hoping for... this was their advantage over the crazy son-of-a-bitch.

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"Those of you who have been with us from the start know what to do," Alana instructed as they prepared for battle. Faye had helped her down from the toilet seat and the blood-caked girl now stood in the middle of the crowd. "Help the newcomers, show them what they need to do! Go back to your aisles, gather every candle, every match... fuck, anything you can find that hasn't been destroyed that you can use as a weapon!"

The little redhead gathered her friends around her and shouted enthusiastically, "this is it! The five of us, we're marching on the Stockroom door and demanding Conrad's unconditional surrender... or else! The rest of you, get ready! Go now!!!"

With another enthusiastic battle cry, the crowd charged out of the men's room towards an uncertain future, and their five leaders marched towards their own. Alana helped her grandmother back to 17, wanting to see the destruction for herself. Their home was gone, as were those of her friends.

Alana hated leave her grandmother behind with nowhere to go, but she had to... the field of combat was no place for a tired old woman, especially one grieving the loss of her daughter.

Before the nervous quintet left though, Keri made a shocking request. "Alana?"

"Yes, grandma...," Alana replied, somewhat distracted.

Keri wrung her hands together, knowing exactly how the conversation was about to go. "This is going to sound very strange, but please hear me out."

Alana couldn't help but feel worried. "What is it?"

"In my heart, I know you're going to win," Keri confessed. "I can just feel it... but..."

"Come on... out with it, Grandma," Alana pressed impatiently, "we have to go."

Keri closed her eyes and took a breath, "when you get to Conrad... when you come face to face... please... don't kill him."

"WHAT?!" Alana exclaimed with shock.

"Out of anyone, I know it sounds strange coming from me." Keri was trembling, part out of age.. part out of the way her granddaughter was looking at her. "He's taken my children... YOUR parents... my husband... but believe me when I tell you that killing him won't solve anything. It will only make things worse."

"Have you lost your fucking mind?!" Alana shouted. "You weren't there! You didn't see what he did to them!"

"I know...," Keri tried to appeal to Alana, with little luck, "I want him dead every bit as much as you, but-"

The furious redhead cut her grandmother off, "but what?! How does HE deserve any mercy?!"

"It's not about mercy, my dear child... that's not it at all," Keri tried to explain. "If you kill him, you risk turning him into a martyr. His followers already think he's some kind of prophet. If you kill him, they'll only dig their heels in... then you risk turning one Conrad Hartman into hundreds."

Alana bit her lip. She winced her eyes shut and balled her hands into tight little fists.

"He's taken everything from us... I know, my dear sweet Alana," the old woman continued to plead, "but if we kill him, he'll still win. We have to humiliate him... to show the Mattels what kind of man he really is."

Alana turned away and stormed off in the direction of her waiting comrades. "First chance I get, I'm going to kill him... because that's what you do to monsters."

"Alana, please! Listen to me!" Keri pleaded. She tried to give chase, but her bum leg prevented her from keeping any kind of pace with her determined granddaughter. Alana was hellbent.. and there was little more to do about it.

"What was all that about?" Lacey asked.

"Nothing. Just clearing something up," Alana replied. Despite her proclamation of intention, she couldn't shake what Keri had asked her to do... or rather what she'd asked her not to do. Her grandmother had to be going mad... her mind pushed to madness with grief and guilt... at least that's what Alana tried to tell herself so she didn't explode with rage.

The five of them weaved their way through the thousands rushing back and forth hectically between aisles as they prepared for the coming battle. By the time the quintet reached Aisle 1, the entire Store had grown eerily silent. Before making their move, the quintet regrouped beneath the overhanging shelf of an endcap, out of sight of any guards that could be patrolling the aisle.

"You ready for this, 'Lana?" Asked Faye, taking Alana's small, delicate hands in her own.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," she replied.

"We probably should have taken a few minutes so you could clean yourself off," Sarah realized.

Alana looked at the backs of her hands and the dried blood cracking and flaking from her skin... all that was left of her parents. "No. This... this is my warpaint." She licked the tips of her fingers and wiped a pair of bands away from her cheeks, revealing the fair, freckled skin beneath.

"Your what?!" Roberta asked, perhaps a little too loudly.

"There's a people who used to occupy these lands... the natives," Alana began to explain from the stories her grandmother had taught her. "Before going into battle, they'd paint their faces and bodies to intimidate their enemies."

"Were they giants like our grandparents were?" Asked Sarah. "Were they trying to protect The Store too?"

"I suppose so, but I think they were around long before The Store existed, my friend," Alana tried to clarify, compassionately. She licked her middle and index fingers once again and traced two bands through the blood around her bicep. She pointed to each and explained, "this one's for my father... and this one's for my mother. I'll need them with me if I'm going to get through this."

Alana pushed back up to her feet first, then silently lead the others the remaining gap between where they stopped and the Stockroom door. In Sarah's strange sort of way, she felt concerned... but no so much about the Mattels at the moment. She caught up to Roberta and whispered a question in her ear, "should I have brought some nice paint for the rest of us?"

Roberta just smiled and put an arm around her goofy friend.

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Even with Conrad sitting on the floor like the ruthless shogun he was trying to present himself as, Alana still had to look up to meet his gaze. Somehow, whenever these giants kneeled or sat in front of her, it made her feel even smaller, still having to crane her neck to meet their faces. She had creeped close enough for Conrad to see the markings she'd traced on her blood-stained body and laughed with great amusement.

"Haha! I see your grandmother has told you stories about cowboys and Indians," he chuckled heavily, "and don't you just make the cutest little ginger redskin!"

Alana had never met or seen a Native American, nor understood that "redskin" was an antiquated racial slur for one of them. She naturally assumed Conrad was referring to the blood that coated her skin.

The Constable leaned forward, which caused Alana to halt in her tracks, even taking a single step back reflexively. He cupped his had to the side of his mouth in a half-assed gesture to hide what he was about to tell her from the others. "I'll hand it to ya, little injun... you are correct about me not really wanting your people slaughtered. It would be such an unfortunate waste of such delicious... and tender meat."

"You're one sick son-of-a-bitch, Conrad Hartman," Alana replied with disgust.

"Perhaps, but that doesn't matter so much when you're running the show, does it? You and your friends here are going to die, that much may as well be written in stone. As for the rest of the Kenners and Hasbros, they've had the luxury of living relatively free up until now." Conrad suddenly laughed, a humorous thought popping into his head that he would be the only one present to understand, "FREE RANGE, HaHA!" He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that none of his onlookers got the joke. "When I beat your little uprising down... that's what's going to happen, you know... that will no longer be the case."

Conrad leaned in closer, his voice getting quieter... softer. "From here on out they'll live in pens... like fat hogs, wallowing in their own filth... living only to die. I'll have them force fed until they're nice and plump for the picking. That's what we used to do with livestock, Lil Injun," he explained further, even as he taunted her with a new demeaning nickname. "No one cared about the lives of those animals, just as no Mattel will care about any of yours. Those stupid beasts were a product... a commodity... a resource... and nothing more."

He continued, "those poor, dumb bastards had one thing your people won't though... the luxury of ignorance. They had no conscious understanding of what was happening to them until it was too late... but not the Kenners. Children will grow up in cramped cages with the crushing and hopeless knowledge that one day... they will be fill the belly for someone more important. Chewed up and shat out."

"How the fuck does THAT make any sense if the food is almost gone, you goddamn maniac?!" Alana screamed back.

"You're right about the food supply. It'll last as long as it lasts... then... we'll just have to grind your bones into meal and force it down your little throats. Who knows how sustainable that will be, but I'm on the downward slope of my time on earth... so after I'm gone... it's no longer my problem."

"Jesus...," Alana sighed with horror, "you really are a selfish monster."

Conrad smiled back, "you better believe it, Lil Injun."

The tension in the air was thicker than ever. The mismatched pair appeared to be locked in a stalemate with the excruciating heaviness of silence weighing on everyone present. The others looked on, waiting for Alana to say something... anything.

Conrad offered the tiny teenager one last chance to give herself up. "So, my little Apache warrior... you ready to make way for the railroad?"

"When we came here," Alana began, lowering her gaze to the floor so as not to be distracted by Conrad's intense glare while she gathered her thoughts, "we were going to demand that you relinquish your hold on this Store or face the consequences. My grandmother would have wanted me to at least try to broker peace, but as I stand here now... I see more than ever that you're beyond reason, Constable. There's no scenario were your twisted ego would allow you to give in. Life here has never been good... but you've made it a living nightmare for the rest of us. And all out of pure, insane self-satisfaction. I'm going to kill you, Conrad Hartman... and anyone you place in my way."

"So be it then," Conrad ominously replied.

Ashlee returned with the armor and bitterly tossed it at Faye's feet with a clang that made the other girls jump. She spat at the ground while hate-fucking Faye with her glare, then turned to retake her spot on line.

"Ashlee," Conrad stopped her, "the little warrior here wants to see just what we're capable of. Tell the others to fall in line. Let Boyd know the final phase is in motion."

Ashlee's sneer turned into a devious grin, "yes sir!" She darted back into the Stockroom at full speed. The loyal Mattel soldier could be heard shouting inside the room, then the building clamor of the clanging of armor and weaponry rung throughout the aisle with Conrad's army assembled.

Hartman himself slowly stood up, his knees cracking in the process. He dusted himself off and smiled down at little Alana. "You really don't know what you've just brought upon your people, do you?"

Alana simply answered, "I really do."

The Stockroom door swung inwards, opening wide for the first time since the early days. From the darkness within, the rhythmic sound of marching feet hitting the concrete floor within preceded the first soldier's appearance. Instinctually, Alana and her friends began to take slow steps backward. This was yet another intimidation tactic from The Constable... and from his point of view, it was working.

The Mattel army emptied into the aisle one by one. They remained in rigid formation as they joined the others already guarding the Stockroom door. Row after row after row continued to file into the light until the length of Aisle 1 was half filled with armored Mattel forces. They stood motionless and disciplined, awaiting orders from their leader and false prophet. Each carried with them some miniaturized improvisation of medieval arms. Pencils embedded with razor blades to form battle axes, swords cut and sharpened from aluminum, even paperclips chained together with balls of twisted, intwined nails to create miniature maces.

Front row and center was Boyd, grinning his big toothy grin and picking his teeth with his knife. He and Alana caught each other's gaze and he offered her an arrogant wink. Conrad began to step backwards, but unlike the overmatched women, he did so in solidarity with his forces. The deranged Mattel master extended his arms in a christ-like stance and smiled menacingly.

"Above all," he shouted, initiating his people's battle cry.

"ABOVE ALL!" The armed choir repeated with weapons raised.

On the other side of the aisle, the young women weren't so much retreating (as Conrad thought) but putting a more comfortable distance between themselves and his army as they too prepared for battle. Faye frantically strapped her armor to her body as she backed away. Her smaller friends helped her carry the various pieces while she struggled to walk in reverse as she tied them in place.

Roberta stared in awe at the strange weapons she was dragging along with her. Essentially, Faye had taken a jagged soup can lid and split in two. The respective halves had been formed and pounded out along the straight cut to fit Faye's arms, along with holes for gripping. The resulting weapons resembled shining wings on Faye's forearms when she slid them into place. They served both offensive and defensive purposes, a simple yet genius weapon designed by the beauty herself. As skilled a fighter as Faye had proven to be without them in her escape from the freezer, she was a goddamn force of nature with them... something many would soon get to witness.

Why Conrad would allow her to have them, knowing how good she was, baffled Faye. The same realization that came to Alana came to her giant lover as well: Conrad had gotten too sure of himself. She caught a glimpse of Heidi and Matthew behind the lineup with the open door at their backs, still safe from Conrad's knowledge of their betrayal. Faye gave them a signal... a slight nod, barely perceptible unless you were looking for it... which the pair returned, then retreated nonchalantly back into the Stockroom.

The five girls lined up once again, this time just in front of the lowest overhanging shelf of the massive gondola rising behind them like a mountain. The agonizing anticipation of who would strike first tensed the muscles of every living soul in the aisle. Adrenaline was pumping as hard as their hearts. Those old enough to remember the western picture shows wouldn't have been surprised by a tumbleweed crossing the no-man's-land between Conrad and the girls. Even then, that was something that would have required at least a light breeze... but the air in The Store was as still... and stale... and uncomfortable as ever. Perhaps even more so.

This was how the final battle for The Store would begin. Alana could only hope that Faye was right... that fate was somehow on their side.

"Last chance!" Conrad called out from across the faux-marble plain. "Your lives in exchange for your people's freedom!"

Alana yelled back in response, "living to fill your stomachs isn't freedom, Hartman!"

"Have it your way, Lil Injun! What happens from here on out is on you!" He bluffed.

"History will judge us both accordingly!" Alana bluffed back.

"It's ironic that you should wanna bring up history," Conrad chuckled, "especially with you standing there that adorable warpaint and all! If you know that much about the Injuns... then you should know what became of them!"

"I do," Alana replied, confidently.

A smile began to grow on the 'Lil Injun's' face to match her nemesis's. It was the first time she really had since she and Faye had last lain together... which felt like a lifetime ago, despite taking place less than two days prior.

"Then how can you possibly expect to win?!" Conrad continued to stall.

Alana paused before answering, taking a moment to look at her anxious friends.


"Because... this time... the "injuns" have the firepower!"





End Chapter Thirty-Three

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Four-"Blunderbuss"




"NOOOOOOOOOOOWWW!"

Alana's scream caught Conrad off guard. What the hell did this misguided little shit mean by "firepower?"

"No... no, she couldn't have...," he whispered to himself with a growing sense of distress.

The other girls joined in their leader's cry, which quickly drowned out by the crashing of metal behind them. The kickplates beneath the gondolas began to fall one by one along the middle section of the aisle. Before the last one fell, all five women dropped face down to the floor. They covered their heads and ears and braced themselves for what was about to come.

Hidden behind the kickplates were a long row of empty soda bottles, collected and arranged over the course of the last few weeks in secret, each manned by a single Kenner. Runners with lighted matches, like Olympic torch bearers, were running from either end of each three foot section, lighting the fuses of the strange cylinders hanging out of the uncapped mouths... bottle rockets.

One after another the rockets took off at lightning speed towards the stunned front line of the Mattels. They ricocheted off of people, the walls, anything... flying wildly before exploding in an overwhelming and disorienting fury. The Mattels had been caught completely off guard. These fireworks were completely different than what they had seen during the executions... the giants had no idea how to react.

Alana and her friends snuck a peek at what was happening while still ducking for cover. Mattels were darting around chaotically as the explosions erupted all around them. Limbs and heads were being blown apart at random. The lucky ones were left shell shocked from the concussive blasts, forced to watch their friends and family blown to pieces. There were those trying to drag their injured or dead away from the field, while others were using the lifeless bodies of their fallen comrades as human shields. Conrad and his grandson Boyd were among the latter.

The attack lasted all of a few seconds, but had inflicted significant damage to Conrad's forces. When the final explosion blew, which took the legs from Ashlee and knocked a pair of Mattel men unconscious, Alana raised her arm and dropped it in the direction of the Mattels.

"Reload! Fire at will!"

The Kenners tending the bottles shoved another round of bottle rockets into their makeshift artillery as the torchbearers struck another set of matches. Their supply of rockets was limited and wouldn't even fill half the bottles that the initial round did, but the second wave still kept the Mattels on their heels. Even more were injured or slain as they tried to make sense of what was happening. Conrad and Boyd had buried themselves beneath a pile of corpses for protection while more of their followers fell. The old man had lost hearing in his left ear due to a nearby blast that easily could have killed him had he been standing any closer.

The sounds of pained screams replaced those of igniting gunpowder breaking the sound barrier. Smoke clouded the battlefield, but quickly began to dissipate and lift towards the ceiling. The smell of sulfur lingered with the added stench of bowels voided at the moment of death. Alana, Roberta, Lacey, Sarah, and Faye climbed to their feet to assess the damage they'd done. It was nothing short of a massacre. Where the floor hadn't been blackened with scorch marks, blood and viscera decorated the rest like a gory Jackson Pollack painting. It was hard to tell in the piles of flesh and aluminum, but they'd wiped out over a third of Conrad's army... more than Alana could've dreamt possible.

Conrad and Boyd climbed out from under their shield of human meat, both blazing hot with rage. "What are you useless cunts waiting for?!" The Constable screamed. "Get them!"

Those Mattels that could still fight gathered up the weapons they'd abandoned trying to dodge the onslaught of fireworks and began to charge. Boyd picked up a broadsword, complete with expiration date from the can it was cut from, and was about to take off in Alana's direction. The next thing his grandfather shouted would halt him in his tracks.

"Boyd! I want them alive! Minimal casualties!" Conrad ordered. "Anyone who fights back! Break their legs, their arms, I don't care... just bring them all to me alive!"

Boyd turned back in shocked disbelief, returning to his grandfather. "What the fuck did you just say?!"

"You heard me, boy," the Constable reiterated. "Alive."

"I'm sorry, were you hit in the fucking head or something?!" Boyd argued back. "Do you not see what they just did to us?! We need to slaughter every last one of them... every man, woman and child!"

Conrad wagged his finger in Boyd's face, "our own future depends on them. What kind of cattleman would I be if I killed my entire herd because of a few ornery steers? They're our livelihood, Boyd. They will suffer, I promise you... but for now... use the Stockwagons... round 'em up." He added, "tell Aaron I want updates every ten minutes from the field. Don't fuck this up, Boyd!"

"You have to be kidding me!" Boyd continued to press his luck. "You want us to fight off a rebellion with our arms tied behind our backs?!"

Conrad whistled twice into the Stockroom to signal those he referred to as "The Wagonmen." Deemed to old to fight, these men and women were given a different task. The rumbling of the massive wagon wheels could be felt from across the aisle where Alana and her crew were making their way beneath the gondola to prepare for their next attack. Even with vengeance-fueled Mattels baring down on them, the roar and squeaking of unoiled metal paused their escape.

Emerging from the Stockroom were a pair of shopping baskets, each placed inside a rusting Radio Flyer wagon, the very one Alan Nelson and Dan Rasmussen used to transport gasoline from the filling station across the street during The Rapture. It had been stashed inside the Stockroom all this time. The strange looking cart was pulled by its handle with two Mattels in front and pushed by another pair from behind. Four more Mattels flanked either side.

"Fill 'em up," Conrad ordered.

"We could just as easily fill the wagons with the dead as the living, grandpa," Boyd proposed.

"I gave you and order, boy... do not question me again!" To make sure Boyd got the message this time, Conrad smacked his grandson hard across the face.

"Yes, sir," Boyd snarled and then stormed off ahead of the wagon.

On the other side of the aisle, the Kenner artillery were already retreating to join up with other divisions stationed throughout The Store. Alana's crew were the last remaining, staying long enough to draw the Mattels towards them until everyone else had made their escape. The miniature giants were already on their hands and knees by this time, having removed the bottles blocking their path and crawling beneath the gondola. The small Kenner women had little trouble staying out of reach from the huge hands grasping at air, but Faye was just as impaired in the cramped space as the opposing force. She repeatedly had to shake grips from her ankles or slice off a hand or two that threatened to drag her away using her razor sharp blades.

The kickplates on the opposite side in Aisle 2 had already been dropped to allow for an easier exodus... along with another surprise for the Mattels giving chase beneath the massive shelving browser. As Alana's crew made their way into the light once again, another row of Kenners were positioned above them on the bottom shelf with Black Cats in hand. Once Faye was through, she waved to the waiting soldiers to let them know everyone was clear. With that signal, the Aisle 2 bombing squad lit their firecrackers with strategically placed candles and quickly tossed them into the void beneath them. They plugged their ears and braced for the shock wave.

Another series of explosions rocked the floor beneath Conrad's feet. The brief flashes could be seen in the darkness beneath the browser, soon to be followed by the few Mattel soldiers that somehow escaped a concussive death within. They coughed up smoke and struggled to catch their breath as they escaped back into the open space of Aisle 1.

"Go around, you fucking idiots, if you can't go that way!" Conrad scorned. He made his way back towards the Stockroom on his way to the office, flipping his robe angrily as he turned. How? How did those little bitches get to his stockpile?! He had just checked on it that morning and the box was still full.

As he entered through the wide expanse that was the open Stockroom door, a pair of figures caught his eye, cowering against the wall separating the Mattel stronghold from the Salesfloor. Their eyes were closed tight and their hands cupped over their ears.

"You two!" Conrad screamed, startling them by yanking both to their feet by their wrists. The pair, a handsome young man a pretty young woman, were visibly shook at being discovered by the old man. Conrad looked them over, trying to decide what to do with them.

"If you two idiots aren't going to fight, then you're going to escort me to the office. Consider yourselves my bodyguards."

The two looked to one another, then nervously nodded in agreement and followed Conrad towards the office.

------------

Back in Aisle 2, the break in the action left our five girls with time for one last goodbye, something all had been dreading since the day they'd first planned it. Lacey and Roberta would command their forces in the first two fourths of The Store, respectively, while Alana and Sarah would take the back half. Faye, of course, wasn't about to let Alana out of her sight. She would remain with her to whatever end. Each knew that this could very well be the last time they saw each other and held their embrace for as long as time would allow.

"I love you guys," Alana confessed while trying to control her emotions, failing as the words choked in her throat. The others couldn't hold back their tears either.

Faye stood back from their circle, watching both ends of the aisle for the encroaching army. Seconds later, the Mattels rounded the corner. Boyd was in the lead, nearly foaming at the mouth with hate.

"ABOVE ALL!" He cried with lifted sword, a roar of voices following his lead.

"We have to go!" Faye shouted and snatched both Alana and Sarah up under her arms.

"I love you! Please be careful!" She cried as she watched Roberta and Lacey shrink away with distance. The two ducked behind a kickplate as a horde of Mattels dropped to their knees to yank away the metal cover.

"Don't try to follow them!" Boyd ordered. "That's what they want! It's probably booby trapped! We have to draw them out! Someone, bring some matches!"

Faye sprinted towards aisle 18 first where she dropped off Sarah. There wasn't enough time for another goodbye, so she didn't give the childhood friends the chance. Faye knew that if they embraced, she might never be able to pull them apart. She lowered Sarah with her anxiously waiting division and worked her way back to their designated section of The Store. The giantess's efforts couldn't stop the two little Kenners from blowing one another a tearful kiss as they faded from each other's view. The clanging of weapons and armor combined with more explosions could already be heard by the time Faye and Alana reached their destination.

The other aisles were already fighting for their lives.

------------

Conrad and his two reluctant bodyguards arrived in the office and the old man wasted little time making a path to his precious stockpile of fireworks. His two would-be protectors repeatedly looked from him to one another with obvious concern. Conrad pulled the dark cloth cover away, revealing a full box of Black Cats, seemingly untouched.

"It doesn't make any sense, how-," Conrad stopped himself as he pushed the top layer of firecrackers away. There, among the thin, crinkly packages, was an eye staring back at him. He frantically removed the remaining bundles to reveal the eye's owner. It was a baby stegosaurus... cute, cartoonish in appearance. The animal was printed on a neatly folded swath of pastel fabric.

When Donovan, Faye, and Alana had pulled that particular shirt from the teetering mountain of giant clothing, it had simply been by chance. They didn't know... they couldn't know... but Conrad did. He recognized the shirt immediately, as if it were a dark omen sent from beyond the grave. Conrad's memory was as sharp as a tack. The shirt, which once belonged to the man's son, was what Alan Nelson was wearing the day their world changed forever.

Conrad's blood boiled and his face turned beet red. He tossed the box over and began punching holes into the cardboard bottom. The two Mattels with him gripped each others shaking hands as they watched this senior citizen throw a tantrum like a spoiled child. They weren't shaking out of fear of what he was doing, but because of the opportunity presenting itself to them. Heidi and Micheal were their names, and they were the very spies Faye's torture had been an effort to reveal.

No... their hands weren't shaking out of fear for Conrad Hartman, but because they had him alone... and unarmed.

As Conrad's age got the better of him, he caught his breath, leaning over the toppled box and tried to figure out his next move. The little Kenner bitch was smarter than he gave her credit for. Suddenly the game wasn't as much fun when Conrad wasn't certain he would come out the victor.

Panic.

The Constable barely recognized the feeling, as he had felt it so rarely in his life. It was fleeting, but it was there... if only for a moment. He shook it off and began collecting what was left of his arsenal and rolling it up under his arms.

"Hey! Idiots!" He shouted, snapping Michael and Heidi out of their mental gymnastics. "Get these Black Cats to the front lines!"

The two turncoats looked at each other once again, each trying to confirm that this was, in fact, their best shot of taking him out.

"Are you two fucking deaf as well as stupid?! I just gave you an order!" The already heated dictator approached the two insubordinates with a full head of steam. The pair of spies prepared themselves for an assassination.

"News from the front, sir!" A male voice cut through the tension like a pair of scissors. It was Aaron, and just as told, had returned with an update for Conrad. The duo froze, eager to hear what was happening outside the stockroom themselves. The furious Constable wouldn't give them the chance.

A distressed Conrad looked to Aaron, then back to his "bodyguards." He picked up a rolled package of Black Cats and slammed it into Michael's chest. "Gather up the rest... and take it to the front lines. I will not repeat myself again."

The two reluctantly conceded and snatched up the remaining boom-sticks, then scurried out the office door. Aaron was a far superior fighter to either of them and could have taken them out singlehandedly... which made it even stranger to see him acting as Conrad's errand boy instead of fighting. Perhaps the old man was saving the boy in the event that things escalated completely out of control... someone who could protect him if the previously unthinkable somehow came to pass. Nevertheless, Heidi and Michael had the remaining fireworks... none of which could be used to kill a single Kenner ever again... and in that realization, they shared a relieved smile as they made their exit.

-----------

Meanwhile, the Mattel forces were swarming The Store like a plague of locusts. They poured down the Dividing Corridor then split split off from there. In Boyd's mind, more men in more aisles would end this uprising faster, but he had lost a lot of men... and was only playing into Alana and Keri's scheme. Divide and conquer, the oldest tactic in warfare. Boyd should have known better, but his blood thirst clouded his common sense like the affections of a beautiful woman.

In the the first half of The Store, Lacey and Roberta's divisions were already engaged in hand to hand combat, as much as battling giants three to four times your size could ever be "hand to hand" anyway. Alana, Faye, and Sarah were nervously awaiting their own hoards of bloodthirsty raiders. They wouldn't have to wait for much longer.

Archers with paper clip bows and toothpick arrows fired down from above in Lacey's section. The little arrows lacked the power to do any kind of real damage to the Mattels' thick skin and abundant armor, unless a lucky shot happened to take an eye or two that is. What they did do though, was provide a distracting nuisance to the isolated giants while the troops on the ground wrapped up their legs in monofilament fishing line, of which there was no shortage of in Rasmussen's Grocery. Silverfalls was quite the outdoorsman's paradise in its time after all.

Roberta was using a similar tactic, but as paperclips were in short supply, they simply dropped what they could, screws... bolts... nuts... whatever was available, onto their oppressors' heads while the ground crew felled the distracted giants like trees. Once on the ground, there was little time to waste. A Kenner soldier would mount one of their giant necks and place a sharp implement beneath the Mattel's chin. If the colossus begged for its life, they were simply bound wrist to ankle and held as prisoners of war. However, should they fight back, their throats were instantly slit.

The Mattels were dropping like flies... and Boyd had had enough. An army as truly great as theirs shouldn't be losing a war to its food. The Stockwagon was nearly empty while Mattel blood stained the floor like a new paint job... and all because his glutton of a grandfather had ordered him not to kill any of the precious herd.

Sacrificing so many of the people he had grown up with, whom he had trained with... and for what? To save Conrad's meals-on-legs for later?! And save them for whom? Who would be left to indulge at this point?! How were his own people so expendable while their lessers were not?!

It was time to unshackle himself. Fuck Conrad and fuck his little talking snacks. Boyd was a man with many talents... and it was past time he put those skills to work.

The blood of Kenners would grease his blade that day.




End Chapter Thirty-Four

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Five-"The Battle of The Dividing Corridor"




When Keri and Alana were going over their battle plan in the months prior, the two had originally set up defenses in every aisle, but that was when there were still homes left to protect. The horrible siege the Mattels had laid to both Kenners and Hasbros alike resulted in an unexpected change in plans. Alana realized that having the same attack structure in every aisle would only allow the Mattels to predict their every move, so some last minute changes were made.

That morning she made sure that there were aisles sporadically left completely undefended, to throw the armored giants off. Head to head they stood no chance against the Mattels, but if they could keep them off balance and confused, then there was still hope. The fact that they were taking Kenners prisoner and not killing them, just as Alana had expected Conrad to do, was putting them well in control of the battle. Within the first minutes of the conflict, they had wiped out a third of Hartman's soldiers... and not twenty minutes in they had taken nearly half. Even more astoundingly, not a single Kenner life had been sacrificed... at least, not up until that point.

An outraged Boyd would turn that tide soon enough.

Alana was manning the end of a line of monofilament with another Kenner boy who's name she didn't even know. Just like the hundreds of others swarming Aisle 5 with her, they were dropping Mattel soldiers like it was going out of style. Here, she wasn't a general... or any kind of figurehead really, she was just another Kenner, fighting for her right to live and be free... just like everyone else.

Faye tore through her comers like a tornado, her fighting style being unlike any of the others of her kind. The way she used her blades and her body to separate men from their limbs was both ruthless and graceful at once... a dance of death which none of her partners survived. Alana knew Faye had been considered one of the Mattel's finest warriors, but seeing her in action for the first time left her speechless. She fully understood how losing the beautiful giantess was such an enormous loss to Conrad's army, and just how lucky they were to have her.

As the last Mattel soldier invading Aisle 5 (that still possessed all of his limbs anyway) charged towards Faye, she touched the tips of her blades together and crossed them defensively, anticipating his next move. She sidestepped his clumsy attempt at tackling her almost humorously. Faye ripped her aluminum wings apart like opening a pair a scissors, severing the man's head in a single motion. It spun in mid air, spraying blood as it twirled and came to rest on the groin of another who mistakenly thought she stood a chance against Faye.

Panting heavily, Faye's eyes bounced from one area of her surroundings to the next, searching for Alana... praying she was alright. She turned to find the tiny love of her life staring up at her in slack-jawed awe.

"Uh... what?" Faye asked through strained lungs and aching ribs, as Alana hadn't said a word to her yet.

"Oh, nothing," Alana began with a crooked grin, "you're just so full of surprises."

Faye bent over and braced herself against her knees to catch her breath, favoring the broken ribs to one side. "How... so?"

Alana nuzzled up against Faye's leg and responded, "you never cease to amaze me."

Faye eased down to the floor to rest and Alana leaped, throwing her arms around her giant fiancée's neck. The little redhead gave her lover a gentle peck on the cheek, then whispered in her ear, "I'm not gonna lie... seeing you kick some ass like that got me a little wet downstairs."

Faye pulled away and smiled, "I'm glad you still think I'm pretty." She poked the tip of her tongue through one of the gaps in her teeth that Tony had gifted her, wiggling it around in the hole playfully. For a moment, it was as though a war wasn't raging all around them.

The battle could be heard echoing throughout the rest of The Store, but Aisle 5 was calm... then, a victorious cheer rung out with raised arms and beating chests. The people the two lovers had been fighting side by side with rushed to Alana and pulled her away from Faye in an attempt to lift their leader above their heads. Alana shot that down right away.

"There will be a time for celebration, but this isn't it! This is just one aisle and Conrad's soldiers could flood back in at any moment!" She instructed, "listen! Our comrades are still fighting out there... they need us! Spread out, help your neighbors! Show the Mattel's who the Kenners really are!"

Another collective shout rung out, the vibrations echoing through the metal shelving on either side of the aisle. The division split up and made their way beneath the gondolas once again to join up with others fighting throughout battlefield. Alana and Faye were the last remaining as they tried to figure out what to do next.

"I'd really like to see how the others are faring, I'm worried sick about them," Alana confessed.

"You trust them, don't you?" Asked Faye.

"Of course... how could you even ask that?" Alana replied, cocking her neck back.

"Then you know they're doing fine," Faye tried to assure her.

A figure appeared at the far end of Aisle 5... tall, chest heaving.... head lowered and brow furrowed. His hands and feet were drenched in blood, as was the long blade he dragged behind him. It made a screeching sound as its sharpened tip scraped across the floor that could make your hair stand on end. Faye and its owner locked eyes immediately.

"So where do you propose we join the fight from here," Alana asked, oblivious to the visitor behind her.

"I don't think our business is done here yet, my love..."

------------

"He's doing what?!" Conrad nearly exploded when Aaron told him of Boyd's battle strategy. "Why the fuck wouldn't he keep his men together and stamp this uprising out one aisle at a time?!"

Aaron nervously replied, "Boyd said they could put an end to this faster if everyone spread out, sir!"

"That little... how could he be so stupid?! We're fighting on enemy turf! They want us to divide our forces! Goddamnit, if he doesn't get himself killed, I'm gonna kill him myself!" Conrad came unglued once again and put his foot through the empty fireworks box he'd already heavily abused. Aaron backed away, not wanting to wind up as Conrad's next punching bag.

The frustrated dictator stuck his finger out at Aaron and demanded, "get your ass back out there and tell my grandson to pull back our troops. We need to regroup, then we'll sweep through each aisle. That's how you overwhelm an inferior opponent, make them play by your rules instead of conforming to theirs."

"Yes, sir!" Aaron consented and then raised a salute to his leader, "ABOVE ALL!"

Conrad returned the salute so limp-wristedly that it appeared more like he was waving Aaron away. With Aaron gone, Conrad put a few more holes in the box until it looked like corrugated Swiss cheese. Feeling old and out of breath, he pondered how the fuck he let things get so to this point. It had to be someone else's fault... he was Conrad Hartman, goddamnit... his maniacal genius wouldn't have allowed for this in a thousand years. It had to be his smart-ass grandson. Yeah... who else would it be? The Constable regretted not keeping the boy on a shorter leash.

Leaning against the base of the massive desk, near where Conrad had stashed the fireworks for so long, laid his own personal weapon. Once it was a well-used fork, one that old Dan Rasmussen kept in his office and probably hadn't washed quite as often as he should have. Conrad had bent two of the prongs at right angles from the other two to create a sort of defensive guard that also doubled as an offensive tool as well when swung like a scythe. Each prong was ground down to razor sharp edges, with points so fine they could penetrate flesh like warm butter. The long handle was perfect to maintain distance from his opponents, or in this case, when he could use it to pick off knee-high Kenner trash without putting undo strain on his knees or back.

Conrad's prized weapon was a bitch to be sure, so he christened it with the same name as the biggest bitch he'd ever known... Deborah.

What happened to his soldiers was of little importance to Hartman. He may have given his men the order not to kill, only arrest, but he wasn't about to let any of those little shits take him out... especially if he was going to have to head into the field of battle himself and teach his ignorant grandson a lesson.

-------------

Lacey found that she had little taste for the violence she was forced to engage in. She was the daughter of a councilman after all, not exactly the makings for a cutthroat warrior. Still, she and the divisions she led did their part and held their ground, either taking the giants hostage or bombing the ever-living hell out of them.

The looks of horror on the faces of those who were about to die... the tears that poured down the faces of those who'd surrendered... they were no different than her own. The Mattels were still people after all, and it wasn't their fault that Hartman had deceived them. Even in the thick of battle, she was sure that the hell unleashed before her eyes... and the screams of the fallen still ringing in her head, would never leave her. But she still fought, and admirably at that... tossing lit explosives and taking the ankles from any who dared violate her space like a deadly rattlesnake.

As Lacey mentally struggled with the morality of war, Roberta on the other hand... she was in her element. The little half-Japanese teen had positioned herself in Aisle 3, high above the sales floor with a hand-picked bombing squad. Instead of having a ground crew ready to start tripping Mattels up with their fishing line, she decided to leave this particular aisle with the appearance of being undefended.

Far below, a small group of Mattels... perhaps a dozen or so, were cautiously moving towards the center of the aisle. Judging from their wounds, blast marks on their armor, and darting glances... they had already seen battle in another aisle. Bundled together tightly for protection, each was fixed on the suspicious looking, undropped kickplates beneath the gondola... waiting for an attack that wouldn't come.

Not from the floor anyway.

"Are they really gonna make this that easy for me?" Roberta mused. She was laying on her stomach, watching the enemy creep through the aisle... waiting for just the right moment, where escape was completely futile. The way the Mattels were moving in formation, almost rotating as they progressed, gave the mischievous girl a devious idea.

She pushed herself up to her feet and quietly tip-toed over to her subordinates, who were removing the wrapping from a pack of Black Cats as stealthily as possible. Rob motioned her hand across her throat to get them to stop what they were doing. She beckoned them towards the edge with a curling finger... doing the same with the very young Mattel boy manning one of the lit tea light candles.

"We're gonna light the whole thing and toss it over," Rob whispered then pointed down towards their targets.

"Should we waste them all at once?" The candle boy asked.

"Trust me, this is gonna be awesome," Rob replied. "We'll line it up just right, then hit them with everything we've got. Just make sure to throw it as soon as it's lit... you've seen how fast these fuckers go up."

The others reluctantly obeyed their commander and readied themselves into position. When Rob dropped her signaling arm, the hissing red package was tossed over the side, right on target. The familiar sound of a burning wick drew the Mattels' attention skywards, but by then it was too late. The firecrackers exploded one by one so quickly that there was no chance of escape. Blood and body parts were projected across the aisle. The few that survived were too maimed to continue their march and took shelter, crouched beneath the lowest shelving overhang... awaiting a slow and painful death.

The small unit were horrified by the bloodbath sprayed across the sales floor below... but not Rob. The pixyish girl was leaping up and down like she'd just scored a touchdown. She didn't see the Mattels as misguided or lost souls as her friend Lacey had, but as canon fodder. Watching the bastards get blown to smithereens brought her a strange kind of catharsis. Roberta had no interest in taking prisoners, she was simply and purely out for revenge. Vengeance for those of her kind who had been murdered, and for using her family against her... they would suffer. Who but god is to say who was right, Rob or Lacey?"

The large explosion drew the attention of other Mattels nearby who witnessed the horrific massacre. Quietly, they snuck towards the hollow metal supporting columns that had held the shelving units up for decades. They began to scale them, using the notches meant for adjusting shelf height as hand and footholds. Roberta and her crew were completely unaware of the giants' encroachment... and with all their ammunition now spent at the bottom of the aluminum gorge, were left utterly defenseless.

-------------

Sarah was having far less luck than her friends in her corner of The Store.

Once the Mattels had traveled so far from the Stockroom, they'd already seen far too many of their own fall to lightly shake it off and obey orders... Boyd wasn't the only one who had begun to slaughter Kenners en masse. Sarah and what was left of her division found themselves cornered beneath the gondola between Aisle 17 and 18, with Mattels closing in fast. They were out of firecrackers and tripping the giants up was doing little when a single swipe from their weapons could wipe out a half a dozen her size with ease. The only advantage they had left was the narrow space beneath the gondola, easily maneuvered by a Kenner, but constricting for a Mattel giant.

That mattered little once surrounded.

The giants advanced closer and closer, snatching away Kenners and passing them back to the Wagonmen waiting in the aisle. The emotionless old men stripped the captured Kenners nude, then tossed them into the slowly rolling Radio Flyer. Of the two baskets perched within the bed, one was filled particularly full. The Mattels had stumbled across the space under the gondola between Aisles 14 and 15 where the elderly, young children, and injured from the previous day's siege were hiding... snatching them up and stripping the terrified Kenners before depositing them in the enormous basket cage.

Keri was among them.

Kenners piled up on top of one another, with those at the bottom suffering the suffocating weight beneath the human crush. Others clung to the grated sides, trying to escape, only to get flicked back inside by the the Wagonmen.

One couple clung to the corner of the basket, trying not to put any weight on the people below them. The woman was crying hysterically while her husband tried to console her. He was ready to crack himself.

"They're gonna eat us! Please! Anyone! Help us!" The woman cried through the latticed openings to anyone who would listen.

Her husband turned to the stranger next to him and asked, "what is this?! Why are they taking our clothes?!"

Keri had been pinned against the corner below them. She wasn't struggling. She had been weeping, as were so many others. The old school teacher felt more old and tired than ever... and in own way, had accepted her fate. Her daughter and son in law were dead, and the argument with Alana had been the final nail in the coffin for her will to go on. She didn't even put up a fight against the Mattels who took her, she just went willingly. Keri did feel obliged to answer the man's question above her though, as she knew the other one would have no clue.

"You always have to pluck a bird of its feathers before you fry it."

Back below the gondola, the Mattels had reached Sarah's cornered platoon. Their tiny, primitive blades were no match for the long arms of the giants, and each was dragged away into the light. Sarah was among the last, trying to keep herself between a terrified fellow soldier and the outstretched arm of a bearded Mattel man. She tried to fight him off, but he was just to big, and so much stronger than she. His gargantuan hand was large enough to wrap around her at the waist. When he pulled her away, it was with such force that it gave the little blonde whiplash.

Through the darkness and dust the giant dragged Sarah towards the widening and quickly approaching horizontal beam of daylight. She screamed and kicked and clawed at the powerful arm to no avail. The fear took her, as it had the so many others captured just outside. They had her... this was reality... she was going to die... and she was going to be eaten.

A loud roar of voices echoed through the air as enormous feet could be seen stampeding away from the area. Then, titanic bodies began to topple onto the tile in clouds of disturbed dust. Something had changed. Sarah could tell something was happening in the aisle, but she was too busy trying to escape her situation that she couldn't pay any of it much attention.

As her eyes adjusted to the light, she felt herself lifted upward by the giant. The terrified girl shrieked, thinking he was going to swallow her right there and then... but suddenly... there was a dull thud. Something wet rained down on her... and then the giant softened his grip on her body. Sarah fell from the Mattel's grasp, rolling as she hit the floor to prevent injury to her ankles, something Faye had taught her to do during training. The massive head of the offending Mattel crashed down right in front of her, busting the teeth out of his mouth on impact. A strange copper disk with the image of an old bearded man, along with the numbers "2006" on its face, was imbedded in the giant's skull.

Another collective roar rang out, but now Sarah could tell it was a celebratory one. The massive red wagon beyond the giant was full of other Kenners, but they were cheering for something. That's when Sarah realized that the Mattel who had snatched her wasn't the only one, but all of them, each with a copper or silver disc of varying size protruding from their skulls.

Another Mattel crawled out from under the gondola, startling Sarah, with the girl she had been trying to protect dangling upside down from his fist. She screamed and flailed as the giant Mattel woman who held her looked the scene surrounding her over in confusion. Then, she too was dropped like the other titans that covered the floor.

Sarah spun around to see where the disc that killed this latest giantess had originated from. A line of Hasbros, thirty strong, was approaching from the direction of the Dividing Corridor. Every one of them was carrying a narrow swatch of fabric, which cradled one of the strange metallic disks.

Nathan.

Nathan was with them.

Sarah rushed to the tall, blonde boy... who greeted her with a smile when he realized whom he had just saved. Nathan dropped to his knees at the same time the smaller girl lunged into his arms.

"Oh, Nathan! Thank you! Thank you for saving us!" Sarah beamed. She unconsciously began to peck at his cheeks, repeatedly leaving big, sloppy kisses... something that caused the boy to flush red with embarrassment.

The other Hasbros made their way to the stockwagon to help the captives within to free themselves from becoming livestock.

"I can't believe you got this many to join us! This is amazing!" Sarah exclaimed, taking a brief pause from showering Nathan's face with affection.

"I... uh...," he began to reply before getting cut off by another man.

"It was I who organized this offensive," the self-important Leon of 20 bragged.

Sarah released her death grip on Nathan's neck and met with the Hasbro leader. "I... I'm confused," she began.

"That seems to be quite common with you, isn't it child?" Leon replied, teasingly.

"I thought you didn't want to help us," she continued. "You said it wasn't your fight. You even walked out on Alana's speech this morning."

"We were simply biding our time, waiting to see if there was going to be a clear victor before we took a side. War affects us all, young lady." Leon folded his arms in front of him with his own metallic disc dangling from his hand.

Had been Alana standing there instead of Sarah, Leon's comments would have royally pissed her off... so perhaps it was better that the gentle-natured blonde had heard it instead. Sarah was just happy that someone, even if it was Leon, came to help.

"DIE KENNER SCUM!" A voice shouted from beneath the lowest shelf. Another Mattel crawled out with a steel butter knife raised and ready to strike down anyone in his path. His face instantly exploded with the impact from yet another flying disk, and the giant fell backwards to his speedy death.

From the other side of the aisle, Regina came running. She headed straight for the felled giant, planted her foot on his neck, and yanked the silver disk from his head. She wiped the blood from its surface on the Mattel's garment then placed it back in her sling.

"Wow!" Sarah shouted with astonishment. "How did you do that?!"

Regina smiled back, proudly.

"Any Hasbro worth half his salt knows how to use a sling, you silly child," Leon gloated. "Just because you Kenners waste away the days lazily, unless you're planning to rob us that is... doesn't mean the rest of us aren't trying to make something of ourselves. We've been ready for an event like this for years."

This time Leon's comments actually did get under Sarah's skin, but as much as she wanted to put him in his place, the grateful girl just bit her tongue and took the win. Even as they spoke, hundreds of other Hasbros were rushing into the aisles, taking down giants with their otherwise useless coins and slings like something straight out of the Bible. They had the Mattels on the run, with the Stockroom existing as their last chance to find sanctuary.

Regina took a knee next to Sarah and placed a hand on the smaller woman's shoulder. She smiled at the little Kenner, then side-nodded in Leon's direction. "Ignore him. We're proud to fight along side the Kenners... but he'll never admit it." She winked at Sarah, which elicited a pleased grin from the tiny young woman. "What'dya say we go help your friends?"

Sarah returned an enthusiastic nod and shook Regina's hand. Once her team had reclothed themselves, they too joined the Hasbro war party. The large ensemble made their way towards the Dividing Corridor, where a stampede of frightened and bloodied Mattels could be seen limping their way in the direction of the Stockroom.

Sarah took Nathan by the hand and kissed the back of it, causing the tall toe-headed boy to blush once again. The others were right about her feelings toward him, though talking about such things filled her with such embarrassment. This brush with death made Sarah realize that feeling shy about such things was utterly pointless. She needed to live in the moment and quit denying herself the things she wanted. The diminutive artist thought back to the confusing conversation her friends were having earlier in front of the Stockroom door. As she did, she squeezed Nathan's hand and beckoned him lower with a whisper and a request of him.

"What is it, Sarah?" Asked Nathan.

"Um... I don't know exactly how to ask this," she began.

"Go ahead, you can ask me anything," he assured her.

"Well... it's just... when this is all over, if we don't die I mean...," Sarah struggled to piece the words together.

"Come on, Sarah... out with it already," he chuckled.

"I was wondering if you... might like to... maybe... burn some brushes with me?"

Nathan was confused, for sure. Perhaps this was some kind of Kenner tradition he was unaware of. It seemed to be difficult for her to ask, so he took it as an honor. "Um... yeah, sure... I guess... I'd love to."

"Really?!" She exclaimed. She nuzzled her cheek against the back side of his hand again, smiling ear to ear. When she next saw Faye and Alana, she'd have to ask them what brushes feel the best to burn.


Behind them another cheer erupted as the former captives of the, now deceased, Wagonmen had thrown their grappling hooks over, then toppled the stockwagon... with plenty of Hasbro help, for sure. Tears of joy fell as well as the humbling sight of complete strangers locking in relieved embrace. That is... save for one who had crept away as the celebration moved onward.

Keri had covered herself in rags, pulled from a nearby pile of destruction left over from the previous day's events. Hobbling her way towards the Dividing Corridor, she kept a distance from the growing Hasbro-Kenner war party ahead, not that she'd have been able to keep pace with them anyway. She too was heading to the Stockroom, but with the sole intention of confronting Conrad Hartman herself... she prayed it would be for the final time.




End Chapter Thirty-Five

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Six-"Showdown in Aisle 3"-Part 1




A new beginning.

That's what Conrad promised his followers anyway. No longer would they be forced to dwell in the endless darkness of the Stockroom. No more would the many oppress the few. The lands beyond the door that had been stripped away from them would be theirs once again. Most importantly, they would soon taste the freshest meat under the sprawling roof... a great sacrament only to be partaken by god's chosen. This would be the ultimate test before the riches of The Store could finally be bestowed upon them for their devout service to the Constable.

It was all bullshit of course. The only residents of The Store taking anything were the Mattels, and none of them had ever known true oppression the way those who dwelt on the Salesfloor had. There were only lies and false prophesy, cooked up by a narcissistic psychopath seeking only power, self preservation, and the satisfaction of his depraved desires. Two generations... indoctrinated with size-aphobic nonsense and promises of divine intervention. It was all they knew. Serve the Constable, nay... the prophet... and you shall receive your great reward.

As what remained of Conrad's army hastened their retreat, the reality of their leader's deception began to sink into their consciousness. How could this be happening? Had they not been loyal and true? Years were spent preparing for such an event... and for all their skill and superior weaponry, the Mattel army was being crushed by a people a fraction of their size.

As Conrad reentered the field of play, he was met with the distressing sight of his own men charging back towards him... in the wrong direction. This was unacceptable. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!" He chastised. "Get back out there and do your goddamn jobs!"

The wave of battle beaten soldiers pushed past their leader as if he weren't even there, eliciting yet another tantrum from their would-be prophet. "You fucking cowards! I'll see every last one of you crucified for this!"

As Conrad continued to scream at his followers, a great cheer erupted from the direction they had retreated from, a battle cry voiced by a thousand mouths strong and more. Conrad turned his head with reluctance and fear, forcing himself to the horrible sight closing in on him. A great congregation of both Kenners and Hasbros were charging his way with a full head of steam.

"Uhhh...uuuuugh," he whimpered in terror. The Constable dropped his precious Deborah, of which he was so proud, and retreated into the Stockroom with the others. "Close the door! Protect me! You must protect your prophet!"

---------------

Boyd's sword scratched a long, fresh divot into the tile as he menacingly creeped toward Alana and Faye. The blood soaked blade dripped and filled in the shallow gash in the floor he lengthened with each new step. Chunks of fresh gore splashed down with a sickening sound. A pair of Kenner sized fingers dropped to the floor as well, a final desperate attempt from one of Boyd's victims to shield themselves from the killing blow that would ultimately cleave them in two.

"Fuck me," Faye groaned. She was in such excruciating pain and exhausted from combat. The thought of having to face Boyd made her stomach hurt as well.

"You can take him," Alana tried to reassure her.

Faye didn't say a word. She grabbed Alana by the wrists and flung her arms around her neck like she was flamboyantly throwing a cape around her shoulders. She turned on her heels and sprinted towards the great crowd rushing through the Dividing Corridor, the cuts in her legs stinging with every agonizing step. Boyd howled, put on some extra gas, and gave chase after them.

"What are you doing?!" Alana asked in confusion. She held onto Faye's neck for dear life as the browsers rushed by her faster than she'd ever seen.

"I can't beat him," the worried brunette replied.

"What do you mean?!" Alana exclaimed, "I just watched you carve through two dozen Mattels like they were made of paper!"

"I've never beaten Boyd," Faye admitted, as much to Alana as herself. The gentle giantess huffed heavily as she tried to reach what she thought would be safety among the crowd. "He taught me how to fight... that's how we," even the thought of saying the words out loud made Faye want to purge, "how we ended up together." She hated having to say something as disgusting as that to Alana, but it was the repulsive truth. "He always won... and that's when I didn't have a chest full of broken ribs."

As Faye rounded the corner into the Corridor, a metallic disk ricocheted off one of her blades, sending painful vibrations through her forearm. She stopped just in time to raise her wing-like weapons over her face, protecting Alana and herself from another coin that came just seconds away from taking her head off.

"What the fuck was that?!" Alana screamed.

Faye parted her weapons enough to peak through, "it looks like... Hasbros!"

"The Hasbros have joined the fight?!" Alana yelled with excitement.

"They're flinging something at the other Mattels," Faye observed. "What the fuck?! Don't they know I'm on their side?!"

"I don't think they do," Alana gasped, "Oh fuck! Unless they were at the gathering this morning-"

"I'm just another Mattel!" Faye finished Alana's sentence for her. "Shit! As if we don't have a big enough problem already."

Towards the rear of the charging masses was a lone Hasbro woman who had halted in her tracks. She began to wind up, spinning her cradled dime in the air. Her eyes were locked on Faye. The battle worn woman braced for another impact, but out of seemingly nowhere, Boyd swiped his sword through the crowd to clear his congested path, killing a half a dozen in a single swing... and removing the head of the uninformed Hasbro woman.

"Fuck! Run! Everyone... run!" Faye screamed, resuming her escape.

Boyd sneered through his blood-spattered face, pursuing his targets with even more determination. He swung his sword wildly, killing everyone and anyone in his way. With Faye having to navigate through the unaware Kenners, bumping into and tripping over them as she tried to run, she realized that joining the crowd was a huge mistake. The pain and exhaustion were almost too much to bare, and carrying Alana's extra weight was only making it worse.

The hate-maddened captain of the Mattel army was closing fast as he cleared a bloody path through the Kenners and Hasbros, most never seeing their death coming as he cut the down them from behind. Faye weaved her way through the crowd, stepping over some while trying to be cautious not to step on them. When she found that Aisle 3 was unoccupied, she spit off from the larger group. It was the only thing she could think to do, she needed to draw Boyd away from everyone else to save their lives. She had no plan... and there was nowhere safe to hide. The panicked defector was running solely on adrenaline and primitive survival instinct. It wouldn't be enough.

Alana held tight, but kept a close eye on Boyd's position behind them. He was closing fast, his sword raised, ready to strike. "Faye! Lookout!"

It was too late.

The blunt side of the blade came down on Faye's calf and knocked one leg into the other. She fell flat on her stomach, sending throbbing and excruciating pain through her ribs. Her blades skidded across the floor from the momentum, coming to rest far out of reach. Alana was sent flying over her head where she landed hard on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. The armor covering Faye's lower legs had protected her from the sting of the blade's edge, but the impact from Boyd's sword still hurt like a motherfucker... just the latest addition to her wealth of injuries.

Boyd stepped forward and knelt down on Faye's back, causing her to scream out in agony. He pulled her head back by the hair and brought the wet, crimson coated edge of his weapon to the soft skin beneath her chin. His penetrating glare directed straight at Alana, who was still gasping for breath.

"I'm gonna enjoy killing the both of you," he grunted as he panted. Alana's reddened, moistening eyes met his... which made him reveal his big, toothy smile. "...but first... I'm gonna make you watch me take her... one last time."

---------------

While Faye and Alana were fleeing for their lives, Roberta was still oblivious to the Mattel party inching closer to her position atop the highest shelf of Aisle 3. Her subordinates were still left awestruck by the blast patterns of random body parts and blood flowering outwards on the tile far below their perch. The spritely Kenner couldn't have been prouder.

The first giant's head appeared at the far end of the aisle along with a second at the opposite. The only thing those shelves had displayed in decades was a copious amount of dust, so a sneak attack from the Mattels was nearly impossible. They had to surround and corner the Kenners, corralling them to where they could either take the little people's lives by hand, or force them over the edge to their deaths.

"Roberta! They're here!" One of her soldiers announced in panic.

Rob's laughter died in an instant, her vision darting from one end of the platform to the other. By now, a third and fourth Mattel had appeared and were pulling themselves onto the blandly colored aluminum shelf. Roberta looked around at the people she had been tasked with leading, realizing her reckless decision to blow their entire arsenal at once had just royally fucked them all. They had nothing to fight back with... all they could do is run.

Her almond eyes scanned for an escape route, something she should have thought about before hand if we're being terribly honest. There was a gap wide enough in the center of the gondola for them to squeeze down to the next shelf, but that would only buy them seconds before one of the giants swung themselves over the edge and caught them. Precious seconds ticked away as the Mattels continued their advance.

"Rob! What do we do?!" The candle boy pleaded with her. He couldn't have been more than ten years old... just a frightened child. She wasn't about to let this boy die because of her foolhardy mistake.

"Everyone! There! Crawl in there!" Rob realized that their best chance of surviving would be to shimmy down inside one the hollow support posts the Mattels had just climbed. The posts were set every three feet apart, so there were a pair close by. The Mattels were closing fast, there was little time to waste.

Looking down into the long, vertical tunnel had to resemble staring down a narrow, claustrophobic elevator shaft, had anyone present ever seen one that is. Light cast dashed beams down its entire length from the empty adjustment notches. There would be no exit at the bottom, meaning they'd be trapped in there indefinitely... but more importantly, the Mattels wouldn't be able to fit inside. Rob ushered the young man in first, who took a nervous gulp at the dizzying depths that awaited him.

"Go now! We don't have time!" Rob ordered in anxious frustration, then pushed the kid inside. She sent them all in, one after another. Cautiously, they made their way down, one notch at a time. The Mattels were dangerously close, and with two more to get down the hole... Rob was out of time. Both of the Kenners left waiting and stranded near the mouth of the shaft screamed in terror as the first Mattel crossed onto their shelf.

"Keep going!" Rob demanded, "I'll try to draw them off!"

No sooner had she uttered the words than a massive hand snatched the girl in front of her and tossed her screaming over the edge. The other, another boy, was just inside the mouth of the post... but not far enough. The same Mattel reached in and grabbed the boy's tiny forearm, easily ripping him from the narrow sanctuary. He too was tossed over the side to his death as casually as yesterday's rubbish.

Roberta found herself surrounded by four vengeful Goliaths. These four nameless goons were particularly cretinous in nature, as they had been directly under Boyd's tutelage. Three kept their angry eyes fixed on the tiny, dark-haired beauty, each waiting for the other to reach out and take her. The fourth remained preoccupied with trying to extract another Kenner from within the cramped column.

"First two didn't," one of the three snarked, "but maybe this one'll sprout wings and fly."

The fourth one, still on his hands and knees, caught some movement far below them on the floor out of the corner of his eye, "hey! Looks like the Captain snagged that traitor bitch!"

The first giant was already mid-lean, with his arm extended to snatch up the tiny almond-eyed girl. He was just distracted enough by the other's announcement of Boyd's activities below that it allowed Roberta to seize the only opportunity she had for escape. His little finger dangled in front of her face, so she took the entire tip, nail and all, into her mouth and clamped her jaw down as tightly as she could. The giant screamed out in pain as she sunk her teeth further into his flesh... and she didn't quit until her teeth were reunited once again.

The Mattel pulled his hand away, spraying the small teenager with blood from his little finger's stump. Rob spit the portion of severed digit out of her mouth and frantically searched for an exit like a cornered rodent. She spotted an opening between the trunks of the bleeding man's legs and took it. With everything she had in her, the little teenager huffed it towards an empty column. The giant fell backwards, clutching his hand and wailing... gifting her a few more seconds of precious time.

The hole was so close Roberta could almost feel herself falling into it, but she could also sense the rumbling fall of Mattel feet behind her. A massive hand reached down to end her escape, but just as it did, Rob dropped to the floor and slid through the dust like stealing a base. Just getting there was so important that the fall seemed like the least of her problems. It was... and it wasn't.

Her forward momentum carried her feet first into the hole so fast that she had trouble finding any kind of hold. The walls bounced her back and forth as she continued to plummet down the shaft. The light coming in through the notches whisked by her at a dangerous speed. Finally, her hand caught one of the notches, which nearly yanked her arm right out of its socket in the process. Her bare feet instinctually scrambled for solid ground as she could feel her grip begin to betray her on the dust-coated notch.

Rob's toes successfully located a foothold in a lower notch, much to her relief. She spread her legs to the other side, finally able to stand above the long dark. The arm that saved her from the fall ached terribly, so she rotated it see if it still worked after what felt like something tearing inside it. She could still move it, but wouldn't be doing any heavy lifting for quite some time, with the exception of what was sure to be one hell of a miserable climb back out of the square-shaped hole. Looking back up towards the opening she fell from, the face of her pursuer could be seen in silhouette far above. She must have fallen an entire foot or more before coming to her painful stop.

The light above returned as the face pulled away, but then a more horrifying sight befell her. The notches above her head began to dim and brighten again one at a time, getting closer with each one... the bastard was climbing down to where she was! With her fingers and toes protruding through the notches, he'd find her in no time. Rob licked her palms and wiped the saliva across her soles to make them clammier, then pressed her hands and feet against the inside of the square-shaped tube, effectively lodging herself inside. Her arm hurt horribly, but she had little choice but to hold on as long as she could. As the shadow got closer, the end of a metal butter knife, sharpened and ground down to jagged serrations, began to protrude from the outside and clang around inside the shaft as he probed for her.

"Fuck... no...," Rob whispered to herself. Her arms and knees were beginning to shake from fatigue... and the knife was getting threateningly close. She had one chance... as the blade came through the hole above her head, Rob could leap and try to scurry back up the shaft. She watched the long implement and timed it... two notches above... one notch above. As the pointed end retracted from just above her head, she shoved her fingers and toes through the notches on the giant's blindside, then jumped to the next rung. She clambered upwards as fast as she could... but it wouldn't prove fast enough.

The stainless steel blade tasted its first blood.

It took every once of self control Rob had in her not to scream, though no one would have blamed her for doing so. The shock alone was enough to choke the vocalized agony she felt in her throat. The knife came in at angle and instantly severed her lower leg, just below the knee. It twisted around in the hole, just as it had above, sending more excruciatingly painful jolts coursing through her body. Rob cupped a hand over her mouth and bit down on a finger to try and quell the urge to scream.

The knife retracted, which released the appendage pinned to its tip, sending Rob's lower leg falling to the floor far below. The trembling girl was in more pain than she ever knew possible... and there was nothing to do but hang there and endure it. The sound of the leg hitting the floor echoed through the shaft, then suddenly... the knife stopped its incessant probing.

"I got her!" The Mattel tormentor called to his partners. "I stuck her! The little bitch fell to the bottom! You guys having any luck?!"

It was a hell of a price to pay, but the amplified sound of her severed appendage splattering on the tile below had echoed through the column enough to deceive this monster of a man into thinking he'd stuck Rob like a juicy mouse. She couldn't make out what the others were saying in response, but a few more minutes of shouting and laughing followed. The man's tone suddenly changed, sounding more distressed. He called to his 'Captain,' and slid his way down the support in a heated hurry.

Had they gone? They all sounded distant, but sound inside the support bounced around strangely. Rob wanted to stay there, understandably shaken, but there was a lot of blood draining from her where her leg used be. The pressure from the huge knife had nearly pinched the wound shut as it cleaved through her bone like a brittle cracker, but not enough to stop the bleeding completely. There was nothing else to use except the string holding her loincloth against her hips to try and stop the flow. She removed her lower garment, then pinned her bare back against the wall with her good foot braced against the other. The injured Kenner wrapped the article of clothing as tightly around the gory stump as the cramped space would allow, which upon touching, sent such pain through her leg that she couldn't keep from screaming this time if she wanted to. The blood soaked into the article quickly and began to drip into what seemed like infinite darkness below. She pulled the string as tight as she could, a sensation so excruciatingly painful that it nearly caused her to black out. Rob knew she had to get moving or she was going to bleed out, lose consciousness, and fall to her death.

A foot. An entire foot she had to climb. Her arms had to do most of the work as she could only use her good foot to rest on, and one of those arms was injured as well. One notch at a time. She had to press on, despite how much it hurt... despite the dizziness beginning to spin the shaft for the climb above. There was still some hope at the top, unless the Mattel's had put it out... a lit candle still burned.




End Chapter Thirty-Six

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Seven-"Showdown in Aisle 3"-Part 2





Boyd held Faye's arm at such an angle behind her back that the slightest bend sent jolts of pain through her shoulder. His weight on top of her as he pressed her aching torso into the floor left her in a state of near paralysis. With his right hand he shoved her face into the filthy floor, squeezing her lips against its surface grotesquely.

"Would ya look at that, babe... we have ourselves an audience!" Boyd removed his hand from Faye's head momentarily to wave at his cronies, high above the scene. There were four of them, hooting and hollering from the top of the browser, save for one who seemed preoccupied with something inside the support structure. "I suppose we should give 'em a show then, don'tcha think?"

The sound of clanging metal followed as Boyd fumbled around with trying to remove his armor with his free hand, a sound that filled Faye with anticipatory terror. She felt her former lover rip her loincloth away beneath her own armor, giving him access to her most intimate areas. Faye couldn't move, and it hurt too much to scream... or so she thought.

"I asked you a question, babe... you should be polite and answer your man when he speaks to you." Boyd twisted her arm higher into her back causing her to howl reflexively. "There... was that so hard?" Faye began to sob as the bastard jostled his stiffening cock free of his slacks.

Alana had rolled onto her stomach in an attempt to breath normally again. Faye's pleading eyes felt like they were burning into her very soul . Alana had no idea how to stop a golem like Boyd, but as the relief of a long, deep breath filled her lungs, she launched to her feet and charged towards the giant with fist cocked.

"Get away from her, you fucking bastard!" The tiny teenager screamed. Although her heart was in the right place, she was no match for Boyd. With the slightest swipe of his hand, he sent the diminutive redhead flying backward onto her ass.

"Try that again, Killer," he promised, "and I'll shove this sword so far up her cunt you'll cut your lip the next time you kiss her." Boyd shoved Faye's face back into the floor once again and forced himself inside her, a violation worse than any pain she was enduring. "Come on, babe... try to enjoy yourself. It's the last bit of pleasure you'll ever experience."

"NOOOOOOO-O-O-O!" Faye screamed. She felt even more helpless than she did strapped to the cross in the freezer.

"Yeah! Give it to her, Captain!" One of Boyd's goons shouted from above, followed by a round of cackling from the others.

Alana could only watch as the psychotic giant raped the woman she loved. She knew Boyd meant it... if she tried to help Faye, he'd kill her. And what could she do anyway? She was just too small. The terrified Kenner sat splayed out right where Boyd had knocked her and began to cry along with her suffering fiancée. "Boyd! Please don't do this!"

Boyd ignored Alana's plea, pushing himself in and out faster. "Maybe I won't kill you, Faye. Maybe I'll just cut off your arms and legs so you can't ever get away from me again. Then I'll always have some warm pussy waiting at home for me to park my cock in."

As Alana began to unconsciously bring her hands to cover her mouth, she bumped something next to her... one of Faye's blades. Her eyes bounced from it to Faye and back again. Finally, there was a chance. She had to time it just right... if she made her move too early, he'd most certainly kill her. She needed him distracted... she needed him on the verge.

"You enjoying the show yet, Killer?" Boyd taunted. "This is how a man fucks his woman... your little whore pussy will never give this bitch what she really needs!"

"Ple-e-e-ease stop!" Faye begged, the pain and shame becoming too unbearable for her.

"Faye... look here... look at me!" Alana was trying to give Faye a distraction from the misery. "Focus on me."

The immobile giantess stared back at the tiny woman she loved so dearly, still begging to save her with her eyes. Alana made sure Faye could see that she was gesturing to the large blade next to her, but took care to keep Boyd thinking otherwise.

Alana repeated, "just focus on me."

Faye nodded and winced her eyes closed to try and shut out the painful and humiliating act behind forced upon her.

"No, Faye!" Alana snapped Faye back to attention. "Look at me. I'm here. Don't stop looking at me." Faye opened her eyes once again. Her tears blurred her vision, but she could make out Alana's hand on the blade.

Boyd, never having been the type to last long in bed, was almost there. His back began to arch and his breathing intensified. Then, the moment Alana was waiting for happened. Boyd closed his eyes and waited for the sweet release of orgasm to wash over him.

The second his eyelids dropped, Alana gave the aluminum weapon a hard shove, skidding it across the floor into Faye's free and waiting hand. Before Boyd had the opportunity to finish inside her, Faye spun around, nearly breaking her arm in Boyd's grip. She hit the side of his head so hard with the broad, shield-like surface that it left a dent the size of Boyd's head permanently imbedded.

The onlookers at the top of the gondola called for their leader to, "lookout," but they were too late. The second they saw their captain go down, the men began to scramble down from the top of the gondola. Some took the supports they used to scale the tall edifice, while others swung themselves over the edge, dropping one shelf at a time in an attempt to get there quicker.

Faye pounded Boyd once more across the head, knocking him flat on his face. He quickly spun around, even though the world itself seemed to be spinning as he tried to regain his bearings. The sharp end of Faye's weapon came to rest on his throat instantly.

"You... you... you motherfucker," Faye grunted in pure, unfiltered.... but earned... rage. "Never... again." She pulled Boyd's trademark knife from his waistband and waved it over his face. She repeated, "never... again."

"W-w-w-wait," he stuttered, his hands outstretched for mercy. "What are you gonna do?!"

Alana appeared next to Faye's leg, so the larger woman handed her blade over to the smaller. "Can you lift this?" She asked. Alana took it from her, and although it was large and awkward for her, she managed it. "Good. If he moves, put it through his goddamn neck."

Alana had never seen Faye like this, wild-eyed and crazy with hatred. As much as she herself hated Boyd, it became apparent to her just how much Boyd had gotten into Faye's head. The victimized giantess kicked Boyd's legs open and then knelt down between them.

Boyd couldn't see what was happening with the silvery wing of metal blocking his view, but as his heart began to race, he had a pretty damn good idea. "Wait! Faye! Don't! Don't do it!"

"Never... again," Faye repeated for a third time. She made a single cut into Boyd's trousers at the groin, "not to anyone." She made another cut, "but especially... not to me."

She sliced through the pants enough to reveal Boyd's still erect phallus standing lordly over his overgrown patch of short and curlies. She took his balls and shaft into her hand and squeezed them like ripe fruit, which got the exact reaction from Boyd that she wanted.

"Aaaaaaaaaargh! Please! PLEASE! FAYE!" Boyd squirmed in place, so Alana pressed the blade harder into his neck. Blood trickled down his skin to floor and he gargled a little as the edge pinched his windpipe. "NOOOOOOOOOrrrggh!"

"Never again."

Boyd's men froze mid-climb when they heard his blood curdling scream echo across the walls of aisle. There, on top of their captain, was the traitor Faye. She was holding a bloodied piece of meat above her head, allowing the deep red liquid to drip down her arm. The man who took Roberta's leg called to the others to 'hurry'...that 'Captain Boyd needed their help.'

Alana allowed the blade to drop away, not even conscious that she had. Seeing what unspeakable act Faye had just committed... though justified, was still shocking. The former Mattel warrior continued to squeeze Boyd's genitals shakily, draining them of their sanguine juices. Boyd continued to scream in agony and rolled across the floor like a fish out of water. He tossed Faye from on top of him and she landed painfully on her side.

Boyd writhed and screamed, holding the empty space where his manhood once hung. He kept feeling around for it, as if he'd simply misplaced his sex and needed to tuck it back where it belonged. Faye tossed the now useless meat back at him and spit on the ground near is head.

"Faye?" Alana asked timidly. "Are you ok?"

Faye didn't speak. She just trembled in place.

"Do you think, I mean... should we put him out of his misery?" Alana asked cautiously.

"Yes," Faye finally responded, "just let me enjoy watching him bleed a little longer."

"YOU TWO... HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" A male voice barked from a fair distance behind them.

"Fuck," Faye sighed, "can't they just let me enjoy this in peace?" The question was of course rhetorical. She and Alana spun around to be greeted by the first of the four Kenner men who had heckled Faye's rape.

"You're gonna die for what you did to the Captain," the same man shouted.

"Should we just run?" Alana proposed.

"Nope." Faye replied calmly.

"There's four of them, Faye. Are you sure? You're-"

Faye cut her diminutive soul-mate off. "Go take cover... I'll deal with them."

As intensely as Faye was acting, Alana thought it best not to question her. She backed away, then ran beneath the nearest low shelf and faded away in the darkness beneath the gondola.

Faye took a deep breath and peeked over her shoulder at Boyd. "Wait here, 'babe'... you and me aren't finished yet."

Faye turned back and barreled towards the latest batch of competitors. She instantly recognized the four of them, and knew they would not go down easy. These men were well trained and loyal to their dickless captain. Of anyone she could have faced off against... why did it have to be them?

The battle worn Mattel was in no shape to take even one of them on... but reducing Boyd to a eunuch had filled her brain with enough endorphins and adrenaline to push forward through the pain and exhaustion. She snatched up her matching blade without even slowing and hurled herself into battle once again.

She met the first comer with a ferocious uppercut which shore his face clean from his skull. He dropped to his knees screaming, trying in vain to reattach the flesh to his face. Faye kicked him over, and with her bare sole held against his neck, she redistributed her weight to snap his spine. The crack came quick and mercifully, but there wasn't any time to relish this latest victory. No sooner had she ended one life that another seemed anxious to have their shortened.

This one could have been quite handsome if he had been introduced to some kind of personal hygiene. It was a strange thing for Faye to think as she dodged his lightning fast attack with a ducking roll. This was the man with the sharpened butter knife... the one who took Roberta's leg... Luther of 1 was his name. Faye knew nothing of the trauma her little dark-haired friend had succumbed to at his hands... to her, he was just another obstacle. The opposing blades clashed and sliced for a short time until the next Mattel in their unit arrived. Without even looking, Faye slit that one's throat with a sweeping blow while still holding off the other.

Faye had seen Luther fight before of course. She had sparred with him herself many times. She too had been one of Boyd's underling goons after all, once upon a time. With Tony dead and Faye turning coat, Luther and Aaron were Boyd's best fighters. Luther's skill with the long knife, one he'd sharpened daily... and even slept with, was exquisite... but he was no Faye.

A healthy Faye anyway.

She had pushed herself too hard, the human body only able to take so much abuse. As good as Faye was, Luther began to wear her down... and then she made a mistake. The exhausted fighter misjudged a block and the long-bearded Mattel managed to sweep her leg with the broad side of the knife. Faye's legs lifted beneath her and she fell flat on her back. This time.... she wasn't sure she was going to get up. Pinned against the floor, she continued to try and block Luther's attacks, but she was cornered and out of juice. Her vision began to blur, and in the distance... she could make out another Mattel dropping to the sales floor. Another former comrade
coming to finish her off.

'A little late to the party,' Faye thought to herself.

Luther was relentless. If not for Faye's armor, the skillful warrior would have sliced her to pieces. She had so little energy left to fight that all she could do is use her blades to shield her face and torso from Luther's attempts to slice her up.

"You ready to die, you fucking traitor?!" Luther barked at the fallen defector. He lifted his blade above his head for a killing blow, "this is for the Captain."

Faye was done for.

Allowing her arms to drop to her sides, Faye released her trusty weapons... accepting what was about to come. She closed her eyes, on the verge of blacking out anyway, and pictured Alana's face. She wasn't sure where the woman she loved was just then, but for the time being, she was alive and safe... and that gave the fading giantess comfort. Faye had given everything she had to make sure of that. In what she thought were her final moments, she found peace.

But the moment stretched on. Did time get weird just before you die? Was Luther just taking his time and savoring the kill?

Faye's consciousness began to waver, but she could still hear Luther grunting and shouting above her. Things became murky for her at that point... as even Alana's image faded to black.

The dark only took her for a few brief seconds. Faye was jolted back to reality again by the touch of a pair of soft, tiny lips gently touching her own. She opened her eyes to find Alana's face looking down on her like an angel. This time, it wasn't just a vision.

"'Lana?!" Faye asked groggily and disoriented. "What are you doing here?! I told you to run away!"

Alana grinned and kissed Faye again. She caressed her cheek and replied, "did you really think I would just leave you behind?"

Faye started to smile back, but then began to panic as she realized it wasn't a pleasant dream. "Luther! He'll kill you! Run!"

"What? Him?" Alana asked, thumbing to Faye's right.

Faye rolled her head to find Luther's lifeless face staring back at her. I suppose you could call it staring, as he had a fish hook dangling from one of his eye sockets. Faye rolled her head back to Alana feeling stunned.

"You did that?!"

Alana was done with cowering in the darkness. When Faye sent her away, the skilled little huntress simply used it as an opportunity to arm herself and sneak up behind Faye's attackers. A good general knows where all her resources are located after all. She had returned to the field of battle with just seconds to spare. Luther was already raising his weapon when she swung the hook around his legs and pulled as hard as she could. Such a task was hard enough with a partner, so getting the giant off balance enough to fall on her own merits was nothing short of a miracle. Luther toppled like a redwood, hitting his head when he met the floor. This dazed him just long enough for Alana to finish him off.

"Don't act so surprised," Alana replied, "I was a damn fine hunter before I met you. Took a big ol' rat down all by muh lonesome."

Faye allowed herself to grin again, "what the hell did you just do with your voice?"

Alana just shrugged, "I don't know, just something grandma does from time to time. Guess she really is really rubbing off on me."

The two shared a light chuckle and then Alana stepped away to yank the imbedded hook from Luther's face. She placed a foot on his nose to create enough leverage and fell on her ass as it released with a sickening slurp.

The gutterall cry from the final Mattel charging in their direction rocketed Faye's attention back into fight mode. "Oh fuck!"

"Wait here... I've got this," Alana assured her towering lover. "It's about time I save you for a change."

Faye tried to stop her, but Alana was already out of reach as she charged towards the mighty giant. The grapple twirled above her head as she ran, spraying Luther's blood in all directions. Surprisingly, the Mattel stopped in his tracks less than a foot from Alana, making her halt her own advance as well. His face bore a look of both confusion and amusement.

"You have to be joking," he mocked.

Alana just stared up at him, still spinning her hook in the air. It didn't really occur to her then, but any fear she held for the Mattels had completely evaporated. As far as she was concerned they were just two people sizing each other up... something not terribly difficult to do when one of them could barely see above the other's knees.

"If you're looking to die, you've come to the right place," Alana shouted.

"Unless you have a firecracker hidden behind your back, little girlie... I'd say you're the one in trouble." At this point the tall son-of-a-bitch was outright laughing at her.

"Test me," Alana replied. "Look at your buddies. Faye back there made pretty short work of two of them. The one with the bleeding holes where his eyes used to live was my doing. Pretty good for two 'girlies,' I'd say." Alana quit spinning her grapple to make her final point. "I'm giving you an out here. If you think you can do what these rotting piles of meat couldn't, then by all means... show us what you've got. I'm warning you though, you are going to die... painfully and slowly. You might take one of us with you, or both even, but you... are... going... to... die."

Faye slammed the point of one of her blades into the tile to help pull herself up as she wobbled to her feet. She lowered her head and glared at the man ferociously. Suddenly, the giant standing before Alana was no longer laughing.

Alana continued, "...or, you can leave. Walk away. Your life will be spared to squander as you please. As my grandma used to tell me when I'd act up... how 'boutchu fuck around and find out."

It's difficult to say if Alana was bluffing, but if she was, she'd successfully stared down... er... uh... up(?) someone many times her size. Faye hadn't the strength left to fight, but he didn't know that. This man was well aware of what she was capable of. With the clang of a dropped spear and the slapping of his feet on the tile, the Mattel sounded his retreat. He disappeared behind a pile of debris left over from the siege, and from there... who knows.

Alana turned back to Faye, grinning proudly and with confidence.

Faye just shook her head and lightly laughed to herself. She lost her balance and fell back to the floor, which sent Alana rushing to her side. "That's it, Faye... no more. You're done."

The distant sound of thousands of voices coming from the direction of the Stockroom caught both of their attentions, especially now that the Aisle 3 was relatively silent.

"No way," Faye contested as she dropped her breastplate to the floor and began to rub at her aching ribs. "Do you think there's any way in hell I'm gonna miss watching that mob tear Conrad apart?" She began to laugh but the painful jolts in her side halted that quickly.

"Fine," Alana relented, "I'll go kill Boyd and we can... ah, fuck!"

"What?! What is it?" Faye creaked herself around, only to be disappointed by the sight that just shook Alana.

Boyd was gone. Only a trail of blood, leading around the corner into the Dividing Corridor... towards the Stockroom, remained.





End Chapter Thirty-Seven

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

Chapter Thirty-Eight-"Mob Justice"




Not since the early days had so many non-Mattels set foot inside the walls of the Stockroom. Kenners and Hasbros alike stormed through the door like a great flood of vengeance. The Mattels had tried to close the door, but the sheer numbers of the Salesfloor folk kept them from ever gaining enough leverage to do so. The giants found themselves cornered in the narrow hallway leading to the office. Their numbers had been so depleted by that point that some say less than a hundred Mattels were left to fend off the tide.

Conrad and a small host of elder Mattels had taken refuge within the office, closing the massive door behind them... leaving their own kind to die. Outside, those who were not still trying to fend off the invading "lessers" were clawing and pleading at the door for their prophet, seer, and commander to grant them sanctuary. Conrad being Conrad, had no intention of doing so. The great pine door was two inches thick and locked automatically when closed, a safety precaution Dan Rasmussen had installed in the old days to protect his daily profits. Self preservation, as always, was at the forefront of the old man's mind. He would have forced the others from the safety of the office if he could have to sustain it.

From a higher vantage point, atop an empty wooden pallet, Lacey observed the scene with mixed emotions. This is what they wanted... this is what they had worked so hard to bring to fruition... but what now? From her position, she could see a sort of no-man's-land that had developed along the front line, just enough room for the smaller peoples to keep safely clear of the Mattels swinging weapons. The fighting was at a standstill, with both sides anxiously waiting for the other to make the next move.

Looking out over that great congregation, fighting valiantly for their freedom, Lacey felt completely overwhelmed. Were her friends still alive? If they weren't, did she have the strength within herself to make the tough decisions going forward? How far would this go? The compassionate young woman's thoughts bounced from one question to the next with no clear answers. Luckily for Lacey, a familiar voice calling to her from the crowd offered a much welcomed distraction.

"Lacey! Oh my god! Lacey!"

A small hand could be seen waving above a cascade of curly blonde hair, as its owner pushed its way through the sea of people.

"Sarah! Oh thank god, you're alive!" A wave of relief washed over Lacey. Seeing Sarah gave her the hope she needed that the others were still ok. As the equally relived blonde finally forced her way to the pallet, Lacey reached over the edge and pulled Sarah up with her.

As soon as Sarah's feet touched the coarse wooden surface, she tackled Lacey in a loving embrace. "I'm so glad you're ok!"

The two laughed and hugged some more, like they hadn't seen each other in years... when in reality, it had only been about a half an hour. Sarah and Lacey had come out the other end, and as the latter spotted Alana and Faye limping through the doorway, the two little Kenner women couldn't have been happier.

"Faye! Alana! Over here!" The two perched on the pallet shouted in unison, jumping up and down with excitement.

The two mismatched lovers spotted their friends above the crowd immediately and wanted nothing else but to be reunited with them. Faye lifted Alana onto the pallet, then climbed up herself, then dropped to her knees and joined the others... already crying with joy.

"What about Roberta? Anyone seen her yet?" Alana asked the group.

The rest shook their heads and began scanning the crowd for their missing companion. The warm, inviting atmosphere was suddenly soured with the very real possibility that their cynical friend hadn't made it. A choking silence struck the four of them.

"I won't believe it," Alana tried to convince the others... and herself. "She's just hiding or something. She'll be here, I'm sure of it." The others nodded sullenly, hoping Alana was right. Dwelling on the thought that Roberta may be lying out there injured... or worse, was a hard pill to swallow, but Alana couldn't allow herself to fall back into her grief. If she did, she wasn't sure she'd be able to escape it this time. Everything they had worked and hoped for was at their fingertips, and she needed to show strength more than ever.

Alana changed the subject, trying to get herself and the others to focus on the the present. "Fill me in, Lacey. What's the status here?"

Lacey explained, "we have what's left of their army cornered by the office door. We suspect Conrad is cowering behind it?"

"Have you seen Boyd?" Faye interjected.

"No," Lacey replied. "He could be inside with his grandfather."

"He's not," Faye informed her, "I just cut the fucker's dick off, but he still managed to get away from me."

"Woah! Really!?" Sarah asked with amazement.

"Yeah," Alana answered for Faye, "we followed the blood trail in here, but lost it beneath the crowd."

Another coin whizzed by Faye's ear and plinked against the metal wall of the cooler behind her, pulling the giantess's attention away from the conversation. There, in the crowd, was yet another Hasbro girl, reloading her sling. "Goddamnit! Stop trying to kill me! I'm on your side, for fucksakes!" Faye screamed at the girl with all the fire of hell. The girl lowered her sling with fearful embarrassment, then did her best to fade back into the crowd.

Faye let her weight fall against the cold, rough surface of the outer cooler wall and slumped to the ground. She stretched her feet out in front of her and shook her head in frustration. "Just give me a minute. I... I just need to rest... I'll be ready to go again."

Alana affectionately rubbed at Faye's enormous arm and told her, "I already said you were done, Faye. You've been amazing, but you need to stop."

Faye closed her eyes and attempted to reiterate that she, "only needed a min-," but the war-torn warrior passed out from exhaustion before she could even finish her sentence.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Asked Sarah.

"I hope so," Alana replied. "For now... just let her sleep. She's earned it."

Lacey led Alana to the far end of the pallet so she could see for herself where they stood. "It's been like this for maybe five, ten minutes," the tall dark-skinned girl explained. "The Mattels start to swing their weapons around wildly if we get any closer, and no one on the front line wants to get that close. Until they give up, we can't go after Hartman... and that's a whole other problem in itself."

Alana scratched her chin for a moment in thought, then suggested, "perhaps it's time I go have a chat with our gracious hosts." Alana sat down on the rough hewn edge of the pallet and dropped her legs over, preparing herself for the long drop back to the concrete floor.

"Alana, wait! Look!" Yelled Sarah. She was pointing to a familiar black cylinder bobbing it's way above the heads of the crowd, being carried like some kind of idol.

Apparently, there were still some Black Cats left.

The firecracker danced its way towards the front line, and as others in the surrounding sea of people became aware of its presence, they began to cheer and sing.

Alana stood back up, feeling a little awestruck by what was happening. A part of her felt like cheering them on herself, but another part felt sorry for the cornered Mattels. They were surrounded, with no chance of escape. Blowing the shit out of a beaten enemy hardly felt like justice. The next words out of Lacey's mouth proved to Alana that she wasn't the only one thinking it.

"We have to do something!"

Alana nodded in agreement, but she also worried that it might be too late to do anything. As Lacey, Sarah, and herself worked their way down from the pallet, the daunting task of penetrating the hoard revealed itself to them. They pushed and shoved their way towards the front, but there was no way they would get there in time.

An even wider clearing opened near the front of the crowd, where the firecracker was handed off to an overly enthusiastic Leon, obviously wanting to take the credit for the victory for himself. The overconfident Hasbro leader placed the explosive in his sling while a pair of Kenners struggled to strike a match across the smoothness of the concrete floor.

Another deafening cheer rang out as the match finally flashed to life. One of the Kenners lit the dangling fuse, then Leon swung the firecracker towards the screaming Mattels. The giants dropped to the floor and covered their heads, bracing themselves for the inevitable blast. None of them knew where the explosive would land... all they could do is pray for Conrad's pretend god to save them. The paper stick, packed with sulfury black powder, bounced against the wall and began its decent. The surrounding Salesfloorers plugged their ears and turned away.

The Black Cat went off in mid air, with Leon's windup having used up most of the fuse's burn time. The Kenners and Hasbros were just as disappointed as the Mattels were relieved. In their brainwashed minds, the Mattel god had just delivered them from destruction. The giants threw their weapons aside and raised their hands to the sky in praise of their nameless savior. The rebels seized the opportunity to charge the preoccupied giants and bound them right where they kneeled.

"Cut off their heads!" A voice demanded from the crowd. It was met with cheers and raised fists. Dozens of lined fish hooks streamed through the air and bit into whatever Mattel flesh was exposed. Groups of Kenners and Hasbros gathered on the fishing lines and pulled the giants painfully to the floor one by one, like they were clearcutting a forest. As soon as the Mattels' enormous faces met the concrete, the smaller peoples swarmed over top of the giants like ants on a carcass.

The sudden surge forward allowed for space to run, something without which Alana and her friends would never have reached the office door in time. "STOP! STOP THIS!" They each yelled, but the crowd was way out of control. With the Mattel's hands bound, they couldn't protect themselves from the angry mob. Their cries for mercy fell on deaf ears.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!" A scream echoed through the hallway, freezing everyone on their tracks.

The firecracker blast had been more than enough to bring Faye back to consciousness. When she awoke and found Alana gone, panic sent her heart racing and she darted towards the commotion, certain the woman she loved would be in the middle of it. It didn't take her long to spot the others near the captured Mattels thanks to her height, but what she saw happening there terrified her. She didn't even realize she was screaming until her throat grew sore.

With the people finally quiet and still, Alana used the opportunity to try and broker some kind of peace. "Everyone! Please listen to me! I implore you not to do this!" She gestured towards the terrified Mattels and continued, "I know how this sounds, but I beg you to spare these men and women's lives!"

The crowd erupted in a hail of boos, which forced Faye to scream at them again, "SHUT UP, LET HER SPEAK!"

The crowd resumed its uncomfortable silence.

Alana continued to plead her case, "Trust me... I know how you feel! I had to watch helplessly as Conrad Hartman picked his teeth with my mother's bones! No one wants justice more than me!" A single brick which Dan Rasmussen used to prop the office door open lay against the wall, so Alana pulled herself up onto its red, ceramic surface to give herself a stage.

"Look at them! They're done!" She exclaimed. "What happens on the field of battle is one thing, but if we kill a surrendering army, that makes us no better than Conrad... or Boyd... or anyone else who has made our lives so miserable. These people's minds have been poisoned by his lies and corruption. They're not evil, they just need to be shown the truth."

"Do you think they'd show you any mercy if the roles were reversed?!" Leon interrupted. The crowd vocally agreed with him.

"Probably not," Alana admitted, "but that's why we're different. We've had each other to show us right from wrong. We try to take care of each other... even you Hasbros hiding behind your walls. You too look out for your own. The only truth these Mattels have ever known has been Conrad's word. This is our chance to show them that we're not what he says we are. That we're all human beings, capable of forgiveness and mercy."

The crowd mumbled amongst themselves.

"I wish things had never come to this," Alana resumed. "I wish my parents were still here... but they're not. Conrad took them from me... not these people. How does executing the defenseless, praying on their knees, honor the people we lost?"

Alana's question was met with silence.

"The real enemy lies behind that door. Instead of wasting our need for vengeance on those who don't know any better, I say we scrape... and claw... and dig our way into that room... and we make Conrad Hartman answer for his crimes! And when we have him... his people will truly know how merciful we've been when they witness the hell we are about to bring down on him!"

It was an unexpected end to Alana's speech for sure, but the desired effect had been achieved. The crowd erupted into cheers and fists raised in solidarity. All except for a familiar few. Sarah and Lacey side-eyed one another with unspoken concern. Faye, though thankful that Alana had halted the massacre of people she had known her whole life... was also worried about Alana's impassioned proclamation.

It sounded an awful lot like Alana meant to publicly torture Conrad Hartman.




End Chapter Thirty-Eight