June 24th, 10:22 PM
From inside the thick, dark net, and underneath the substantial bulk of the man sitting on her thighs, Erin could see, barely, through the darkness of the loft. She had watched as Margot had successfully fought off two thugs; had cheered to herself as the Black Bobcat had confidently made her way toward her captured partner; had watched it all come apart as, from out of nowhere, Zilch appeared behind her friend and bashed her on the back of the head with a skillet.
Erin gritted her teeth in rage as the writer cradled her unconscious friend, hating the way his greasy hands held her up and against his tubby body, wanting nothing more than to sock that stupid, chest-ogling leer off his face.
"Wow," Zilch said, letting the Black Bobcat bounce in his careless caress. "I can't believe that worked."
The two thugs Margot had defeated were now picking themselves up from the floor, holding their faces and grimacing. They gathered around Zilch, and were also interested in the shape of her body, but with rage in their eyes.
"Fucking bitch," one of them spat. "Almost broke my goddamn jaw."
"I swear to God, Zilch," the other one added, his hand scratching his forehead furiously. "If you don't give me some quality time with this one, I will fucking..."
"Don't worry about it," Zilch said, calmly. He let Margot's limp body slide from his arms and hit the floor with a soft thud. "There will be enough time for everyone."
Erin blinked. Time for everyone? To do what? Who the hell were these people?
She looked up at the three men nearest to her. They didn't seem like the traditional thugs. The "uniforms" they wore were just dark sweats, and none of them seemed particularly strong or agile. If they hadn't have thrown that net on her, this wouldn't even be a contest... But she'd been careless, and had let herself fall into a trap. And now, netted and writhing under 250-some-odd pounds of nerd, she had to admit that she was in trouble.
"Is the Blue Lynx out?" Zilch asked, looking over her way.
"I don't think so," the man on top of her belched. "I can feel her kicking, still." He bounced up and down on her thighs, forcing Erin to whinny slightly.
"Okay, well, let me talk to her, then," Zilch, ambling over.
Erin rolled her eyes. The writer of erotic fan fiction was trying to be a real villain, now. It was almost cute.
"Can you believe this, man?" one of the men said as Zilch positioned himself above Erin. "We got her! We got the Blue Lynx!"
"It's insane, I know," Zilch said, trying to find Erin's eyes. "And we're just getting started."
Erin groaned. "You've sealed your fate, Zilch. Once I get out of here, you can kiss your memories goodbye."
The six men giggled.
"Wow!" one of them cried. "She's bantering with us! The fucking Blue Lynx!"
Another one whispered. "What does she mean by... that? Kiss you memories goodbye?"
"Don't worry about that," Zilch said. "The Blue Lynx is doing what superheroines do in situations like this. Trying to intimidate us. And grasping at straws."
"Wrong," Erin thought, silently unbuttoning one of the flaps on her belt, which the man on top of her had accidentally pushed up her abdomen. "The Blue Lynx is doing what she does in situations like this... Distracting the baddies in order to escape."
She fingered a Lynx Dart, removed it from her belt, and grinned at Zilch through the thick netting. You'd think such an avid writer of superheroine stories would've anticipated this. Oh well...
"I don't know who you guys are," Erin said. "Or if your buddy Zilch here is telling you the whole story. But if you all leave now, I promise, I won't hurt you."
There was more laughter. "Wow," another guy said. "We're being threatened!"
"I'm going to erase Zilch's memories tonight," Erin continued. "With a secret potion." She was sawing the side of the net with the Lynx Dart, looking Zilch directly in the eyes, hoping he wouldn't see anything in the dark. "Don't make me force it to use it on you guys. Because I will if I have to."
"Don't listen to her," Zilch mumbled. "I have no idea what she's talking about."
"Yeah, you do," Erin said, feeling the serrated edge of the Dart cut through the netting. "I saw your face this morning. You knew exactly what I was talking about, then. You looked like you wanted to throw up. Or pee your pants."
A few of the goons chortled. "Wow, Zilch! You just gonna let her say that?"
"Listen here, girl," Zilch yelled. "I'm the one who's in control now! You hear me? I could end your little double life right now. I know your identity, remember?"
"Yeah, but you won't say it, not yet," Erin said, as the dart sliced through more of the netting. "That wasn't part of the deal, was it? I'll bet you told these guys they'd get to unmask me themselves. I doubt they'd be too happy if you just spilled the beans."
"She's right, man," the goon sitting on her legs said. "That would be fucked up. Don't say shit."
"Yeah," another guy added.
More netting snapped. Erin had a clean line through the web, now.
"Will you all just shut up?" Zilch said, turning around to face the five men in turn. "You're going to get what I promised. Okay? Okay?"
"OKAY!" Erin shouted, shoving the Lynx Dart into the back of the sitting goon. The man squealed and jumped into the air. Her legs now free, Erin punched up through the netting and quadrupled the size of the dart-made tear. In seconds, she was up and out of the trap, looking out at Zilch and his goons with a glimmer in her eye.
"So much for your net," Erin said, kicking away the remaining fabric clinging to her ankles. "Don't you guys know that cats have claws?"
Zilch stepped back and stared speechlessly at the newly-liberated superheroine. Panic has seized the other five men.
"Shit! Shit! She's free!"
"Fuck! Whadda we do?"
"Goddammit! Ahh! My fucking back, man! She put something in my fucking back!"
"Oh God, oh God..."
"We gotta do something! We gotta do something!"
Erin smiled. They were right to be afraid, right now. They'd all just made a huge mistake. She crouched down into a fighting pose, eager to pounce on the first goon dumb enough to waddle her way.
"Be cool!" Zilch yelled. "Be cool! Remember what we talked about! There's six of us, and one of her. Stay together!"
"If that's their only tactic," Erin thought, "then they're in big trouble." She was tired and sore, for sure. The fat man sitting on her had almost reduced her legs to jelly, and the punches and kicks she had sustained, while pretty weak compared to the sort of attacks she was accustomed to, had definitely worn her body down. But her bruises and aches didn't change the facts that she was superheroine, and that these guys were all posers.
They were bunching together now, the six clowns, like scared zebra. Erin had had enough.
"Payback time!" she yelled, rushing toward the men, her fingers outspread like talons, her hair flying behind her. She dodged the first attack-- a way-too-slow cross that floated harmlessly through the air-- and connected with a series of jabs. The group of men stumbled, and Erin pushed her way through, shooting her leg out and catching one of the men's ankles, flipping him head over heels, and following up with a hard elbow to another man's chest. Erin saw another punch coming from the corner of her eye and danced backward, letting the fist glide past by her before she grabbed its accompanying arm and brought it down powerfully on her knee. As that man pulled back, howling, Erin continued forward, shoving a man across the room. She saw Zilch's terrified gaze just inches away from her, and brought her arm back, ready to punch his lights out. But grubby hands prevented her from pushing her fist forward! She tried twisting free of her assailant's grip, but he was locked on tight. She could sense the men regrouping, getting closer; she flicked her eyes to the right to a second goon reaching for her other arm. She flung her free hand out, and the approaching man grabbed it with two hands! With both arms securely in their grasp, Erin could only gasp as the two men pushed her backward, sending her toppling over another man's tripping ankle and flat on her back.
"Quick! Get her!" Zilch cried.
Hitting the floor had stung her, but Erin was still lucid enough to see three of the less-injured men moving down to hold her in place. She flicked her boot up and caught a man in the abdomen. She speedily launched herself from the floor and into a crouching position. But she wasn't fast enough to avoid an oncoming kick to the side, which dropped her to one knee, and soon afterward she felt fat fingers sink into her thick hair.
"I'll admit, you're strong," the thug gripping her scalp laughed, as he pulled her up to her feet. "But at the end of the day, you're just a girl, and..."
Erin didn't want to hear this, so she kneed the man in the groin. He instantly dropped her, giving Erin the chance to plant a two-handed axe-handle chop across his face. He collapsed with a shout of pain, and Erin re-scanned the scene. Zilch was still on his feet, standing cowardly apart from the fray, and so were three other guys, all of whom wore scowls of pain and discomfort. Erin licked her lips, seeing the possibility of ending this battle quickly.
"I'm gonna save you for last, Zilch," she called out. "You're going to get an extra thorough butt-kicking."
The trio of standing, swaying thugs lurched toward her. Erin spun and released a roundhouse kick that caught two of them high in their chests. The third man tried to attack her low, but Erin blocked the punch with her wrists, and countered with a knee to the thigh. As the thug crumpled over, she slapped him across the cheek, sending him to the ground ass-first. Erin moved to finish him off when, suddenly, Zilch's voice rang through the loft.
"Surrender, Blue Lynx!" he cried. "Surrender, now, or I'll cut your friend's throat!"
Erin turned her head to look at the writer. He was kneeling on the ground with Margot's upper body laid out on his thighs. She was still unconscious, with her head tipped back over Zilch's legs, leaving her throat exposed. Zilch had a small, glimmering pocket knife pressed to the skin near Margot's Adam's Apple.
"You wouldn't dare," Erin said, instinctively.
"Don't test me, girl!" Zilch cried. He poked Margot's throat, and a minuscule trickle of blood oozed down her long, defenseless neck. "I'll do it!"
Erin let out a frustrated sigh. She shook an angry fist at her side, and then let her fingers relax. "You... cheater," she muttered. "You worthless brat."
The men she had injured but not knocked out were gradually getting back to her feet. Some of them were laughing as they took in what was happening: the boss using the sidekick as bait to force the Blue Lynx's hand.
"It's your own fault," Zilch said, starting to enjoy himself again. "You're the one who brought the Black Bobcat along! Now..." He gestured with the pocket knife at the floor in front of the Blue Lynx. "On your knees, superheroine."
Erin glared at Zilch with pure fury in her eyes. "You're going to pay for this. I swear."
She lowered herself to the floor with as much dignity as she could muster, placing her shins carefully on the cold wood, and keeping her back straight as she set her buttocks on the heels of her rubber boots.
"Good girl," Zilch said. "Now... put your hands up."
Erin shook her head, still keeping her eyes burned into Zilch's own, and raised her biceps up, her arms now a "U" with perfect right angles. There were men on her sides, and at least one behind her back.
"Now," he said, taking his eyes off the Blue Lynx for a second. "Which one of you brought the stuff?"
The man standing behind Erin made a small sound, and rustled for something in his pocket.
"Great," Zilch said. "Now... do it."
The man on Erin's left snatched her left wrist; the man on her right did the same with his side. They pulled her arms out, away, and behind her body, pushing her chest forward, and pushing out a small cry of pain. She was helpless in this position-- stretched out, almost crucified by the two men-- and could therefore do nothing when the man behind her pushed himself to her back, scooped her head in his hands, and pressed a damp rag to the Blue Lynx's lips.
"I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm, Blue Lynx," Zilch chuckled.
"MMMPHH!!!" Erin cried. She knew what they were doing-- she knew what this substance was-- she knew all about this smell-- and her body automatically attempted to fight back. She twisted and contorted in the clutches of the three men, but her powerful muscles, weakened by myriad punches and kicks, humiliated by their surrender to Zilch's blackmail, and already sapped after just seconds of chloroform exposure, were like a kitten's, now. Her senses were rapidly dimming, almost mercifully: soon, she wouldn't have to hear them laugh at how the once-mighty Blue Lynx didn't "look so tough"; wouldn't have to feel the warm blasts of breath on her reddening face; wouldn't have to watch Zilch's eyes open wider and wider and he watched every failed attempt to escape, every involuntary spasm, every slackening limb, every sudden in-take of breath, every flutter of her eyelids...
She wilted in the men's arms.
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