By: Addie Logan
Victor. She looked him straight in the eye, although she had to
strain to do so even with them both seated. "I need you to tell me
about the rabbits."
Victor looked surprised for a moment before his eyes hardened again.
"I don't know anything about any goddamn rabbits."
"Victor, I saw rabbits in your mind�at the center of your pain. I
think there must have been something traumatic in your past dealing
with rabbits. If you can't remember it, Victor, just try to think. I
need you to tell me about it."
Victor's eyes narrowed. "Ain't ya ever heard the song, girlie? You
keep chasin' rabbits, yer gonna fall."
Sylvia narrowed her eyes right back. "You said you wanted help,
Creed. Either you tell me about the rabbits, or I can't do a damn
thing for you, and Victoria's going to hate you forever."
Victor was too startled by her reaction to snap. Since when did
frail looking women try to stand up to him like that. She almost
reminded him of Birdy. Almost. She wasn't mouthy. More stubborn. He
liked that. But he didn't want to tell her about the rabbits.
"Can't ya go fer somethin' other than the damn rabbit?" he asked.
Sylvia decided to give in for now, and try to get some sort of other
information out of him. She'd ask more about the rabbits later. "Can
you tell me about your parents?"
Victor's nostrils flared. "They're dead."
Sylvia could tell he didn't want to talk about that subject
anymore�which told her she was going in the right direction. "Did
you kill them, Victor?"
She expected some anger on his part. She didn't expect him to stand
up, pick up his chair, and fling it across the room. "What is it
about you people!" he screamed. "Why do you always want me to talk
about that, huh? Do ya want to see me break? Do ya think you can get
me to cry about how daddy never loved me? My father doesn't count
for a flyin' fuck in my life!"
Sylvia wasn't sure how she managed to keep her cool. "Victor, why
don't you calm down, all right? You have me here in order to talk to
you, to try to make you better. One of the ways to do that is for
you to tell me what's causing you all this pain so I can make you
not hurt anymore."
Victor glared at Sylvia, his massive chest heaving with his labored
breaths. "I'm not in pain, lady."
"Victor, come on. You're talking to a woman who's been inside your
mind. I know what sort of pain lurks there." She thought about what
Larry had told her when she first arrived about Victor's father.
"Did your father hurt you?"
"Yeah, he hurt me," he said, his words angry. "Man wanted to get the
devil outta me. Wanted to get the devil outta my mother, too, since
he said she'd put it there in the first place with her 'wanton
ways.' Beat her, beat me. I killed him to get away. You happy now?"
"I don't want to hear about the cruel things your father did to you
because it makes me happy, Victor. I want to hear them because I
want to help you."
"You want to help yourself," Victor said, his gaze sizing her up as
if she were prey. "Don't think I've forgotten that, girlie. You're
only still here because I'm keepin' ya here. You don't give a damn
about me."
Sylvia refused to let him intimidate her. "Me and the rest of the
world Victor," she spat. "You're a sadistic bastard. But it seems as
if we both want something from each other�I want you to release me,
you want me to tell you how to control your blood lust. As long as
you keep acting like this, neither one of us is going to come out on
top. So just sit down and let me do my job."
Sylvia was surprised when Victor actually sat down on the edge of
the bed. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
"I want to know about the rabbits."
"I don't wanna talk about the rabbits."
"Well, I don't want to sit here with you, but we can't always have
what we want now can we? Tell me about the rabbits, Victor."
Victor stared down at his hands. "The first thing I ever killed was
a rabbit."
Sylvia kept an impassive look on her face, but inside she was
grinning like an idiot. She was finally getting somewhere with him!
"What happened?"
Victor shifted uncomfortably. "Ain't that enough fer ya, doc?"
"No. I need to know more or I can't help you."
"And I'm the sadistic one?" He gave a sort of nervous laugh, and
Sylvia felt a whole new wave of fear wash over her. A frightened
predator was never a good thing.
"This isn't to hurt you. It's to help you."
"I�I don't know where the rabbit came from," Victor said, studying
his hands again. "It was in the cellar with me. It was white.
Everything around me was dirty, but it was white. It was my only
friend� My father, he didn't feed me for a week once, and my mother
hadn't been able to sneak me food either. I was hungry�I killed the
rabbit. It wasn't white anymore. There was blood everywhere�it was
red, I was red. I knew I should've been horrified by what I did, but
I wasn't. I liked killing. I found a way free, and I killed my
father. It was uncontrollable then�the blood lust. I�I killed my
mother, too. I just couldn't stop. She was nice to me; she was like
the rabbit. But I killed her, too."
Sylvia couldn't help but reach out and lay her hand over his. He
jerked away, as if her touch had scalded her. "I don't need pity,"
he growled angrily, getting off the bed.
"Victor, don't leave, please. We can make a breakthrough if you'd
just stay."
"I'll see ya tomorrow, doc," Victor replied, leaving the room with
his usual door slam.
Sylvia climbed up on the bed, hugging her knees to her chin and
wondering if she was ever going to be able to teach a man like that
any self-control at all.
*** *** ***
"And in other news, famed mutant psychiatrist Dr. Sylvia Masters is
still missing after disappearing from her Seattle apartment a week
ago. Police have not yet been able to recover any clues as to her
whereabouts, although they do suspect foul play was involved. Police
chief�"
"Heidi, could ya turn that crap off?" Victor snapped. The last thing
he wanted to hear was a police report concerning that damn doctor.
Heidi turned around, staring blankly. "Right," Victor grumbled, "No
English." He walked over to the television and smashed his hand
through the screen just as it flashed a picture of Sylvia. Heidi's
eyes grew wide and she ran from the room. "Guess she understood
that," Victor mumbled.
He was starting to regret taking Sylvia in the first place. She
certainly hadn't stopped his blood lust. If anything, he was more in
the mood to kill something than before when she'd come in to his
life.
Victor went into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing a
number from memory. He wasn't surprised when the voicemail message
began, although he doubted the phone had actually been off. Thanks
to caller ID, she'd successfully been able to avoid answering his
calls. He left a message anyway.
"Victoria, it's your dad. Look, I know you're mad, but I just want
to talk. Please, kid, give me a call." Victor put the phone back on
the receiver and leaned his head against the wall. This was the
first time in his life he'd ever felt any guilt, any need to atone
for his sins. Victoria had been the only joy in his life for as long
as he could remember, and he'd destroyed it all. He wanted to stop,
longed for a way to stop the killing, to make his daughter proud of
him again, but he couldn't.
Victor left the house, knowing he was doing something he'd regret in
the morning.
*** *** ***
Sylvia was going stir-crazy in the room Victor had imprisoned her
in. She'd been in there for a week and a half, and she'd gotten
nowhere with Victor. She knew his problems stemmed from what his
father had done to him, but she couldn't get him to stick around
long enough to do anything about it. She'd tried entering his mind
several more times, but all it did was give her nightmares.
She knew he was still killing, and the last few hadn't even been
contracts�just people unlucky enough to be in his way in the state
he was in. She felt helpless.
Victor busted into her room at the same time he did everyday. This
time he was different, though�somehow more wild. Usually he didn't
get that look in his eye until well into their session. He walked
over to Sylvia, grabbing her by her arms and lifting her off the
floor so he could look at her face to face. "I need ya to do more
than yer doin', doc. Yer makin' me worse, not better."
Sylvia resented being blamed for his continuing psychotic behavior
when she was doing the best job she could under the conditions she
was placed. "You're the one who isn't letting me help you, Victor."
Victor shook her like a rag doll. "Yer a 'path," he said, almost
accusatorily. "I know you can do more. Do somethin' to my brain,
girlie. Just make it go away, at least for a little while."
Sylvia had been in his mind enough times to know what he was
referring to. "Victor, I can't do that. I'm not Birdy."
At the mention of his old assistant's name, Victor bellowed, tossing
Sylvia on the bed. "Just fix me, dammit!" he hollered. "I'm sick of
your psychological shit and all your fucking questions. All they've
done is made me want to kill even more!"
Sylvia jumped off the bed, poking her finger angrily at Victor.
"Don't you even start blamin' me!" she yelled. "I haven't done a
damn thing but try t'help you, you goddamn motherfucker!"
Victor stepped back a few inches in surprise. Since when did she
have a Southern accent? He shook his head. "Well you ain't helpin'
me, bitch! Yer just makin' me remember what made me this way in the
first place!"
"So that's your answer, huh?" Sylvia snapped. "Blame Daddy. Well
guess what, Victor, this ain't your father's problem�it's yours. I
don't give a damn about what he did to ya. A lot of people were
abused. They don't all become psycho killers! You're the only person
who makes you kill, Sabretooth. It's all you. And you're never gonna
be able to control it."
Victor roared in a blind rage, lunging for Sylvia. She stood
panicked, like a deer about to be pounced by a wildcat. Victor
grabbed her, and she saw death coming. She knew she should fight
back, but she didn't. She'd known it was going to end like this.
Might as well be sooner than later. She held her head high, refusing
to show fear.
Suddenly, Victor stopped, his grip on her loosening slightly. His
nostrils flared as if he was catching a change in her scent. Sylvia
let out a little squeak as his lips descended on hers in a violent
fury. It didn't take long for her to start kissing back.
Victor threw her on the bed, then joined her, ripping her clothes
off with his talons. A fleeting thought went through Sylvia's head
that she should probably try to resist him, but she didn't want to.
She tangled her fingers in his blond mane and pulled his mouth to
hers in a bruising kiss.
*** *** ***
Sylvia looked beside her at Victor, who was making a sound deep in
his throat that she could only describe as a purr. "Well doesn't he
look like the cat who ate the canary?" She blushed at the thought.
Victor turned to look at her, all the rage gone from his dark green
eyes. He stroked her face gently with one finger and she shuddered,
realizing how easily this man could kill her, with her laying so
exposed to him. Instead of running, she moved closer.
Victor wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her hair. He
chuckled to himself remembering how when he'd first seen her on
Oprah, he'd thought she'd looked like a bad lay. How wrong he'd
been�
Sylvia looked up, her brow knitted. "What's so funny?"
Victor placed a kiss on her forehead. "Nothin', Sylvie."
Sylvia sighed contentedly, realizing that was the first time he'd
ever called her anything resembling her name. She thought over the
events of the past few hours and couldn't help but shiver. Who
would've thought a man like that could've been so incredibly gentle?
"Where are you from?" Victor asked.
Sylvia frowned. "Why do you ask?"
"Because when you were yellin' at me, you started talkin' with an
accent."
Sylvia blushed. "I�I do that. When I'm really angry. Or drunk."
Victor chuckled again, and she could feel the sound vibrating
through her body. She trembled. "So where are you from?"
"Alabama."
Victor laughed in earnest then, and Sylvia flinched. "Don't tell me
you grew up in a trailer, too."
Sylvia moved away from him, and Victor didn't miss the flash of pain
in her blue eyes. "So what if I did?"
Another piece of the puzzle that was Sylvia Masters fell in place
for Victor. "You had a shitty childhood, didn't ya?'
She looked away. "It wasn't as bad as yours."
"Tell me about it, Sylvia. I want to know."
"I don't want to."
Victor frowned. "I didn't want to tell you about mine, but I did."
"I'm not the patient." Victor started to get out of the bed, and
Sylvia felt a sudden wave of panic. She didn't want to be alone. She
grabbed his wrist. "No�stay. I'll tell you."
Victor got back on the bed, near her, but not touching her. "What
happened?"
"My father left when I was five. He said he was tired of dealing
with my mother. I think he ran off with another woman, but I was
never sure. He left my mother with me and my two-year-old brother,
Jimi. My mother, she was never quite right. Hell, she named her
children after famous dead people. Anyway, she was constantly drunk,
and there was a steady stream of men, most of which saw me as theirs
to do with what they wished. As soon as I turned eighteen, I got out
of there, working my way through college and grad school, desperate
to make it in the world."
"Where's your family now?" Victor asked.
"Still in Alabama. My mother's sick. I�I found out the day before
you took me that she's dying."
Victor was surprised by the tears in her eyes. "You care about that?
Ain't ya glad she's dyin'?"
Sylvia looked appalled by the thought. "She's my mother, Victor, I
couldn't�" She stopped when she remember who she was talking to.
Victor felt a sense of shame roll through him. "Yeah�"
"Victor, I didn't mean�"
"I know." He kissed her softly. "I know." He rolled back on top of
her, not wanting to talk anymore.
*** *** ***
It was several hours before Sylvia and Victor managed to get out of
the bed, and get showered and dressed. Victor started for the door,
and Sylvia felt her heart sink. She cursed herself for thinking that
sleeping with him was going to change anything.
Victor stopped in the doorway, giving her a puzzled look. "Aren't
you comin', doc?"
"Huh?"
"What, do you want to stay locked up in here?"
"Um, no."
"Then come on. I'm hungry, and I bet you are, too."
Sylvia went to him, and he wrapped an arm around her in an
almost-possessive gesture. She smiled to herself as they walked to
the kitchen.
*** *** ***
Victor's house was much larger that Sylvia had expected. She tried
not to stare, but it was the most fascinating place she'd ever seen.
She decided it fit the man who owned it.
"Like it, girlie?" Victor asked when he noticed her surveying his
things.
Sylvia nodded. "You have a nice house, Victor."
Victor grinned. "Yer just sayin' that because you haven't see the
trophy room."
Sylvia shuddered a little when she remembered what Larry had told
her what the "trophy room" held. After the past few hours, she'd
almost forgotten that this man was a homicidal maniac.
"You can leave that room if ya want from now on," Victor said.
"Unless you try to leave the house. If I catch ya pullin' an escape
attempt again, I'm chainin' ya back up."
"I won't try to go anywhere, Victor," Sylvia promised. It surprised
her when she realized she didn't really want to leave.
"Don't try seekin' me out either," Victor said. "If I want to see
ya, I'll find ya myself. I don't like clingy women."
Sylvia just nodded. She'd figured as much with Victor.
The kitchen was large enough to fit in with the rest of the house.
The refrigerator was absolutely enormous. Victor noticed Sylvia
looking at it. "Don't worry, girlie," he said with a grin. "That
ain't were I keep the bodies."
Sylvia shivered a little. She didn't like being reminded that Victor
was a cold-blooded killer�not now.
Larry came into the kitchen, but stopped short. "Dr. Masters?"
"Yeah, I let her out," Victor said. "Brought her down here to feed
her. Anything decent in the fridge."
"Leftovers," Larry replied. "Heidi's at the store now, actually."
Victor shrugged. "That'll do." He pointed to the table. "Have a
seat, doc. I'll heat ya somethin' up."
"Um, sir, can I talk to you for a moment? In the other room?" Larry
asked.
Victor nodded, then looked over at Sylvia. "Don't go anywhere." He
went with Larry. "What?"
"What's going on? Yesterday you were fully bent on not letting her
leave the bedroom. What changed?"
"I fucked her," Victor said with a shrug.
Larry's eyes grew wide. "You what?"
"Fucked her. Probably gonna do it again, too. She wasn't too bad."
"Mr. Creed, sir, you shouldn't be doing that," Larry said. "The
situation with her is volatile enough as it is. Adding sex to the
mix�"
Victor narrowed his eyes. "I do what I want, Larry, and I want to
screw Sylvia. She's sorta pretty when she lets her hair down a
little."
"I think you're making a huge mistake, sir."
"I don't care what you think, Larry."
"So I've noticed. Look, I just don't want this to turn into another
Birdy. Glow or not, that woman was nothing but trouble for you,
sir."
"She ain't Birdy. And she's not givin' me any sorta 'glow.'" Victor
grinned. "Well, maybe one kind�"
"Just be careful, sir."
"I'm always careful, Larry. It's what's kept me alive so long."
Victor went back into the kitchen, and Larry watched him go.
"No, Victor," he said, almost inaudibly, "What's kept you alive is
dumb luck."
*** *** ***
Victor glared at the clock beside his bed. He should've been asleep
hours ago, when he'd gone to bed. There was no reason in the world
for him to be awake. He frowned. He'd been thinking about Sylvia
nonstop since she'd gone to her own room earlier in the night, and
he realized he wasn't going to fall asleep until she was there with
him. Part of him rebelled against that. He didn't like women getting
used to sleeping in his bed. Encroached on his territory too much.
But he pushed that out of his mind. He wanted Sylvia and that was
that. If she slept there with him, it was on his terms. He wouldn't
loose the upper hand.
Victor went down to her room, frowning when he saw her fast asleep.
Apparently she wasn't having the same problem he was. He picked her
up, and she stirred a little, but didn't wake. He carried her back
to his own room, setting her in the bed beside him and pulling the
covers over her. Victor pushed her hair away from her face. She was
a lot prettier than he'd originally thought. Her skin looked almost
flawless, like a porcelain doll.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at Victor, her brows
furrowed. "Victor?" she asked softly.
"Yeah. I brought you to my room. Go back to sleep, Sylvie."
Sylvia nodded, her eyes closing again. Victor rolled over and
immediately fell asleep himself, a fact that would disturb him later
when he really thought about it.
*** *** ***
Somehow, Sylvia had migrated during the night to wrap her body
around Victor. His first instinct was to throw her off, but he
decided to let her stay. He didn't want to wake her. She looked so
peaceful in his arms. He just wanted to hold her.
Victor frowned. While he still found her undeniably attractive, he
didn't particularly feel the need to ravish her at the moment. Yet
at the same time, he didn't want her to leave. He wanted to lay
there with Sylvia snuggled up next to him.
Victor's eyes grew wide. Did the word snuggle just enter his mind?
Victor Creed did not snuggle. Ever. He tried to push her off him,
and Sylvia whimpered in her sleep. She frowned, shivering a little.
Victor sighed, deciding he couldn't let her be cold. He took her
back in his arms and pulled a blanket over them. With Sylvia nestled
at his side, Victor found the most peaceful sleep he'd had since
before he could remember.
*** *** ***
Sylvia woke to the sight of a massive chest covered in pale blond
hairs. She smiled. Victor had brought her to him in the night. He'd
actually wanted her there, and not just to make love to her.
Sylvia's heart leapt a little. Could he finally be opening up to
her?
She looked up to see Victor watching her. She couldn't help but
blush under his gaze. "Been wonderin' when you'd wake up, doc."
Sylvia could feel his deep voice rumble through his chest, and it
made her tremble.
"Good morning, Victor," she said, trying to keep her voice from
quivering with the rest of her.
Victor smirked at her. "Mornin', Sylvie."
Sylvia smiled. She liked it when Victor actually used something
resembling her name. Victor took a deep breath. Apparently whatever
it was the night before that made him want to just lay next to her
without actually touching her was long gone. He was quite aware of
the way she was pressed up against him.
And he was beginning to make his presence known to Sylvia as well.
She grinned at him before disappearing under the covers. Victor was
about to ask her what she was doing before he got his answer and
groaned loudly.
He propped his hands up behind his head and let Sylvia work. He
could get used to this whole "waking up next to a woman" thing�
*** *** ***
It was several hours later before Victor and Sylvia managed to make
it out of the bed. And quite a while after that before they actually
got dressed and left the room. They got as far as the kitchen before
Victor decided he wanted to touch her again. He growled, pouncing on
a laughing Sylvia and carrying her to the kitchen counter. He set
her down, kissing her all over her face and neck. Suddenly he
stopped. They weren't alone, and he didn't know that scent. Victor
kept an arm on Sylvia, feeling protective towards her, as he looked
behind him to see who was there.
Victor stopped short. Since when were there children in his house?
He opened his mouth to ask her who she was when Larry came into the
room, taking the girl by her arm.
"No, no, sweetie," Larry said, guiding her towards the door. "You're
not supposed to be in here."
"No leave, Uncle Larry!" the girl yelled in a high-pitched Swedish
accent. Victor scratched his head. Did Heidi have kids he'd never
noticed?
"Your grandfather is looking for you," Larry said, trying to prod
the child.
A moment later, a very short, very round man came in behind Larry
and the girl. Victor's nose wrinkled. Did he smell sardines?
"Larry!" the man said, his accent similar to the child's. "You found
her, I see!"
"Yeah, here she is."
The man looked at Victor. "Who is this person?" he asked. "He's as
little as you, Larry."
Victor raised an eyebrow. He was not little, nor was he anywhere
near Larry's size. "I'm Victor Creed," Victor replied. "And this is
my house. Who the hell are you?"
Larry stood between Victor and the round man. "This is Heidi's
great-uncle, Sven. He came to visit, along with his wife, their
daughter, and her children."
"He what?" Victor asked.
"Sven, why don't you take the girl up to her mother," Larry
suggested. "I need to talk to Mr. Creed."
Sven nodded. "I will do that, Larry. It was good to meet you, little
man."
Victor did not like being called "little man." "What the fuck are
they doin' here, Larry?" he growled as soon as Sven and the girl
were gone.
"I'm just as surprised as you are, sir," Larry replied. "Heidi
promised me they'd only be here a few days. And I'll keep them out
of your part of the house. This won't happen again, sir."
"It better not," Victor replied, surprised at himself for not
ordering Larry to get rid of Heidi's family before he took on the
task himself� He wondered for a split second if it was Sylvia's
influence.
"It won't, Mr. Creed," Larry said, knowing he was lucky to be
getting away with this one. He turned and hurried out of the room.
"Was it just me, or does Sven smell like sardines?"
Victor laughed out loud at Sylvia's comment. He looked down at her,
still perched on the counter top, her brown hair falling all around
her. How could he have ever thought she was plain? He took her by
her hand and helped her down. "C'mon. Let's find something to eat."
Sylvia smiled and went with him to the refrigerator.
