The Cellar City Chronicles

As a car pulled up to wait outside her apartment, Lenora stood scantily clad in front of a predator.

She swallowed the dryness in her throat and held the smile in place. Her stomach was in anxious knots.

Mr. Jones was leaning against a well-worn desk, several folders strewn over its surface. She couldn’t see what any of them said – she would have to get by him to look.

Time for a different kind of dance.

“You know, when I first saw you outside the club,” M. Jones started, pulling off the tie and letting it fall onto the desk, “I thought you were one of the most fuckable people I have ever seen.”

Lenora batted her eyes, slowly turning to regard the office with feigned disinterest. She started to reach out to run her fingers over one of the picture frames, but withdrew it when she saw her hand shaking.

“Oh really?” She giggled. It came out nervous and jittery.

M. Jones chuckled. He started to unbutton his shirt, but did not move from his position against the desk. Lenora continued her slow circle.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t enough that you were petite and fair skinned – but you chose your wardrobe well. Showed off all of your assets.” M. Jones followed her with his eyes until she got to the side of the desk.

Her eyes flitted over pictures of dancing girls and strangers. Several of them were naked. One picture may have been of an orgy. Lenora didn’t look at them long enough to remember details.

One picture had M. Jones in it, and her eyes hovered there.

“You like my assets?” Lenora cast him a quick glance, and immediately regretted it.

One muscled arm braced himself on the desk’s surface, and his chest was ripped with muscle, sleek and clean like a movie-star’s. He had the most beautiful, even tan she had ever seen, and each cut of sinew and strength led down to the V that disappeared into the belt of his pants.

“Do you like mine?” M. Jones purred at her.

Lenora gulped and quickly looked away. “I – “

Her eyes caught the picture again, and she tried to use it to focus. M. Jones was in the center, and he was surrounded by women – all had blonde or brown hair except for one who hung off his arm like a coiled snake. She had an amazing rich mahogany hue of hair that Lenora found she envied in that split second.

She was stunning, and she gazed at the camera with a venomous smile as she clung to M. Jones’ arm.

A touch on her arm made her jump and as she turned, M. Jones caught her in his strong arms, smiling down on her. He smelled like the rich oaky musk of his cologne, mixed with unadulterated desire.

That last bit she could feel with rising horror as he pulled her closer.

“Do I make you nervous, little mouse?” M. Jones whispered in her ear, taking a deep breath of her hair.

“I… yes, yes you do.” Lenora fumbled. She couldn’t move. Her heart was pounding and she felt a cool sweat slick her skin in an instant.

M. Jones chuckled, and she could feel it rumble in his chest. “Good.”

Lenora put her hands on his chest as he started to loosen his hold on her, but the touch felt like she was touching hot coals, or putting her hands in bowls of wriggling insects. It made her skin crawl to a degree that forced a nervous laugh from her lips.

Firm hands began to slide up the back of her shirt. Lenora gasped.

“This cat is hungry.” M. Jones murmured into her hair. She felt him take a deep breath of her and it felt like he was inhaling pieces of her soul.

Lenora tried to pull away, but did not succeed in getting very far. She got a foot to the left before M. Jones grasped her back to him, the hands that were on the small of her back now resting securely on her belly.

“I like it when you play coy.” He growled.

She felt him kiss her neck, and the kissed felt like scorch marks. Each one passed bright colors over her vision. Each one, she was sure, would leave a messy scar behind that she would have to find a way to hide.

“Stop.” She breathed, dizziness washing over her in a wave.

“That sounds like ‘yes’ to me.” He started moving his hands down to the clasp of her skirt.

“No, I said stop!” Lenora lunged out of his grasp, turning with wide eyes back to him. Her momentum got her as far as the desk chair and she put a hand on it to steady herself. She could feel the heat in her face, embarrassed in spite of herself that this experience would actually be fun…

If he hadn’t already broken me.

M. Jones scowled at her, an angry flame in his eyes. He crossed his arms over his strong chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Lenora bit her lip. She took a quick breath to regain her balance. It was then that she remembered why she was there – to help X. To get information about arrowhead. She was certain that it was here, somewhere…

Her eyes drifted to the desk.

“Right. Find your own ride home.” Mr. Jones went over to the desk with a shrug and started to collect his clothing.

He had already discarded Lenora.

No! You won’t be able to find anything if he sends you away!

She was frozen again, unable to move, words sticking to the dryness in the back of her throat. Lenora shut her eyes a moment, reaching desperately for those electric eyes…

When she heard the door open, her eyes opened as well.

“Wait!’ Lenora called.

M. Jones cast her a sidelong glance, shirt and tie in hand, door cracked open. “What?”

Lenora let out a slow breath and moved over to the desk. She leaned back against it, and tentatively tugged up the hem of her skirt, letting her hair fall over one eye. “I thought you liked it when I played coy?”

M. Jones watched her move like a hawk watching a tricky morsel dart back and forth.

Don’t leave, don’t leave, I need more time…

When she was convinced he would turn to leave, M. Jones smiled broadly and shut the door again, discarding his shirt and tie by the door before his hands were pulling her to him.

Lenora threw her shaking legs around his waist, pushing down the bile as she felt him get riled up. Her hands slid backwards to brace herself as her heart rate climbed. With her eyes closed she clung to the image of those two bright eyes.

When M. Jones’s hands started tracing rough patterns up her back however, she started feeling black silk under her hands, and seeing gleaming shadows of silver lurking behind the eyes, and soon enough it was overwhelming.

Lenora couldn’t breathe. She panted for air as M. Jones started undoing his pants. He had one arm around her waist, trapping her there. She felt like she would crush him with how tightly she was clamped around him with her legs, but he was too strong to care.

Once he was free of clothing constraint, he used one hand to push her down onto the desk, and she felt the air whoosh out of her lungs at the sudden swift motion. Her arms splayed to either side, Lenora spared a look into his face.

She wished she hadn’t. With the greedy smile there she saw the face of a weasel man with a hooked nose, and instead of a hand on her chest she saw a knife. She shut her eyes quickly to his chuckle of amusement.

“You’re a kink, aren’t you?” M. Jones murmured.

Lenora didn’t answer. She splayed her fingertips for something – anything…

The door crashed open, startling M. Jones and Lenora.

“What the fuck, people, I’m –“ M. Jones gaped.

“What’s in this room?!” X-XIII exclaimed, grin from ear to ear.

Lenora’s eyes went wide. Her hand clamped on it.

X’s blue eyes took in the scene in an instant, one eyebrow twitching when they saw Lenora.

Oh God, no…

“Huh.” X-XIII nodded, a quick jerky motion, and he held up a blood soaked hand, jerkily backing out of the room. “Well. Right. Intruding. On SOMETHING.” He fixed Lenora with a scowl.

Lenora blinked, speechless and compromised.

M. Jones didn’t move either. Which wasn’t helping.

X-XIII left the long scowl hanging in the air as the door slammed behind him.

There was a moment of unbearable silence, then things breaking in the other room.

“That son of a –“ M. Jones began.

He never finished. The thick wooden object she grabbed caught him under the jaw, rocking him back. He staggered from the desk with his pants around his ankles. While M. Jones was stumbling, Lenora bolted to her feet, eyes clouding with anger, and the wooden object came down again on the side of his head.

That was when M. Jones fell to his knees, then toppled sideways with a tiny dribble of blood coming from his hairline.

Panting over him, Lenora looked down at the object in her hand – it was a nameplate, or a plaque of some kind… blank on one side, but the other side made her giggle (just once) with manic anxiety.

‘May inspiration hit you when you least expect it.’

Lenora let the plaque fall from her fingertips and she pulled her blouse down and whimpered when she adjusted her skirt, almost tripping over M. Jones to get out of the room.

“X! X wait!” Lenora called as she threw the door open. She heard glass shattering, and as soon as she stepped into the hall, she felt a shock through the soles of her feet, and the lights above her flashed, exploded, and then went out.

Lenora threw up her arms to protect herself from the falling glass, and foraged down the hall. There was light by where the audience was, if she could get there, Maybe X was still –

Lenora tripped on something and had to catch herself on the wall. Blinking to let her eyes adjust, she saw a body sprawled on the floor.

A bodyguard.

Swallowing, Lenora pushed onward. The closer she got to the audience, the brighter it became, and it flickered and pulsated like a heartbeat. By the time she got to the employee’s only backstage entrance and peered through the door, it was almost blinding.

Lenora shielded her eyes as more bulbs burst and broke around her, glasses discarded on the floor exploded, and the windows shook until they too cracked and shattered.

A giant ball of light hovered in the middle of the audience, chairs and tables flung from it as if it had impacted the ground. Past the roar of the white noise and static, the constant thrum of ChiMera energy bubbling in the giant orb, Lenora could swear she heard X.

“X!” Lenora called. Squinting her eyes, she swore she saw him there, curled over and bent at the waist…

Lenora took a deep breath and pushed into the audience, but as soon as one foot cleared the door, the ball sent out a quake. It sent Lenora bouncing back into the hall and flung the door wide, hinges squealing against the force. Lenora saw stars for a moment, and when her eyes cleared enough she saw another pulse wash over Vixen’s, then another, before the bubble burst and arcs of lightning lashed out back into the light fixtures and broken bulbs.

More glass and plaster crashed down around her.

When the sounds and sputters ended, Lenora slowly lowered her arms, and took a cautious breath. Her’s eyes danced with light as she sat stunned in the now silent bar. Bodies littered the floor, and whatever lights had not broken slowly glimmered back to flickering life.

X-XIII was nowhere to be seen.