Hey, Cats and Kittens, this one is pretty dark towards the end – sorry but I gotta go where the characters take me even when I don’t want to be there either. Trigger alert.
Part 4 is here: https://atomicfeminist.com/2020/01/04/women-in-fridges-a-cold-day-in-hell-part-4-surprise/
And if you need to start back at the beginning it’s here: https://atomicfeminist.com/2019/12/20/women-in-fridges-a-cold-day-in-hell-part-1-boy-meets-girl-girl-meets-fridge/
When Sanjay woke up he was stunned to find himself in a black-barred cage in a dark warehouse. There was a single light over his head illuminating only the area he was in and he couldn’t see further into the murk beyond. He struggled to his feet and stumbled to the bars, barely able to pick his toes up off the ground. He tried to bend the bars which should have been easy but he had no strength, no strength at all. Desperately he tugged at the cold metal, grunting and straining; then he tried to shoot them with his eyes but nothing happened.
Sanjay hadn’t felt so helpless since he was a child. He felt an intense flare of longing for his father, who had been dead for three years, to come and make the bad monsters go away.
A laugh came from the dark of the warehouse.
The thing about Desire that made him uniquely qualified to keep prisoners was that he didn’t care about anything other than eating. He had nowhere to go, no appointments to keep, he didn’t have to piss or take a dump, nothing. He slept, but only because he got so bored of existing; he didn’t actually have to so he skipped it when he had better things to do. And the only better thing he ever did than sleep was eating. Whenever he had a meal he would simply sit and wait till his dinner had recovered enough to eat it again and then he would.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Desire was pleased by how quick Captain Obvious had come to. It had only been an hour if that even and he was already up, already on his feet, already trying to escape. That was very encouraging. The guy didn’t heal any faster than a regular human, that was a rare skill indeed and Desire had never met a freak who could. But Captain Obvious was incredibly strong, so physically he could take a lot of abuse and bounce back from it.
His stomach growled and grumbled and he wanted so badly to eat again, to eat it all this time. He wanted to drain Obvious dry, wanted the last drops of the life force on his tongue because those ones were the ones that tasted the sweetest. He wanted to pick up Captain Obvious in his hands and lick the platter clean.
Desire wanted to suck him down till he heard a slurping sound like a child going after the last little bit of a milkshake.
But if he did that he would only get hungry again anyway, and sooner rather than later. So he forced himself to wait, to wait as long as he dared for the life force to come back enough to make it worth his while. While he waited he watched Captain Obvious testing his prison and lamenting his fate and attempting to figure out what the hell had happened to him. Desire didn’t have to keep them in a cell, of course; any one of them could have escaped in a heartbeat, prison or no, if he ever let them regain their strength enough to do it. He just thought it was funny to see them react to being behind bars, to realize they were being held against their will by being faced with the most definitive symbol of imprisonment there was – a cage.
Captain Obvious opened and closed his fists in front of him and then shook out his hands and opened and closed them again. He squinched up his eyes and blew air out his cheeks. He tilted his head back and forth like he was clearing his head. Silly Hollywoodesque rituals he’d probably seen in the movies, fictional tricks he resorted to hoping to make his powers work even though the only people they had ever worked for were, like, the Avengers or something. Freaking hilarious was what it was.
Obvious got more and more frantic when nothing happened, when his strength didn’t return. He started slapping at the bars with his open palms, eventually screaming in frustration and kicking at the metal, raising his leg up in front of him and shoving forward with the flat of his heel. It was the kind of kick superheroes often used when busting down doors; it had worked many a time for Captain Obvious. He had used it earlier that day breaking down the door at the League of Disposable Criminals and it worked like a charm. It had worked well in the past, so Sanjay put every last ounce of what little strength he had into it.
Instead of tearing apart the cage’s wall like he had intended, the kick tore apart his foot.
It hurt, hurt badly, and he wasn’t used to being hurt; he’d had powers since he was only a little kid. The ironic thing about Sanjay wanting his father to come was that he’d been stronger than his father since he was seven years old. But he still wanted him.
Captain Obvious pulled up his foot like a cartoon idiot and hopped around and then he fell over. Desire laughed and laughed. It was pretty sweet.
Then he popped back to his feet and limped to the other side of the bars, the ones closest to Desire. So he could see the bewildered and terrified expressions on the Captain’s face as he repeated the performance all over again only wisely without the kick at the end this time. The guy’s red spandex suit was dirty and pitstained from sweat and his shiny cape was askew. Desire knew, he just knew, this was the lowest point of his whole entire life and he was so very thankful he’d been there to see it.
Witnessing the heroes, so-called, reduced to this lowly state was as satisfying as eating them was, just in a different way. These super-a-holes were so freaking entitled, used to being able to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted to whoever they wanted to do it to, it was immensely enjoyable to watch them forced into being ordinary like everyone else. Yelling for help, yelling for their mamas, pleading, groveling, not being able to wrap their brains around the fact that this time, they’d met the Big Bad and they couldn’t muscle or blast their way out of it. Priceless.
Desire sometimes thought he ought to record them melting down and put it online for the everyday people to see, to show them that these were their heroes, their modern-day Gods, to prove to the brainless idiots in the cheap seats that the capes were the same as everyone else down deep inside. Once you took their powers away they were just frightened little kids, they weren’t braver or wiser or more in control of their emotions than anyone else, in fact they were even bigger cowards, even more useless. They quickly became gibbering emotional basket cases because they’d never had to learn to deal with life without getting everything handed to them on a silver platter.
But that would have gave his game away so he didn’t.
Eventually Cap gave up and sat down in the middle of the floor with his legs criss-crossed underneath him and put his head in his hands. After a while Desire notice his shoulders were shaking. He was crying. Crying? After only an hour in the tank Captain Obvious, the biggest toughest superhero on the West Coast, the guy who’d never been beat, was crying. That seemed so pitiful that Desire couldn’t half-believe it; it usually took em weeks to sink to that level. He’d always heard Obvious was a badass and it was disappointing so he considered finishing him off just on general principle.
But then he remembered the guy was having a time of it what with the girlfriend in the fridge and all, and decided to let it slide.
Flat Stanley tracked Desire to a warehouse in the industrial district. Zoe thought how funny it was that everything in real life was just like in a movie, the bad guys hiding out in a warehouse, in an abandoned zoo. She decided that if she ended up declared a supervillain which she probably would be by day’s end, she would hide somewhere really unexpected like the Plaza Hotel or Cabo San Lucas, the French Riviera, maybe, hanging out in plain sight where they probably wouldn’t even think to look.
“How are we gonna get inside?” asked Wallace, who was hoping Zoe had some kind of a plan.
“The door, silly,” Zoe replied, and headed towards it. She figured Wallace would want to go snooping around looking in skylights and stuff which would take forever. She just wanted to find Sanjay before it was too late, before the bad guy, whoever he was, finished him off or Nuclear Option showed up to take the rogue Captain Obvious to Hellgate, whichever came first.
Time was not Zoe’s friend here.
Flat Stanley saw a few issues with the notion of just walking right in to where Desire was. He stammered frantically, “But lady, lookit, you don’t understand who you’re dealing with, here, ok, Desire, he’s, he’s…he’s not like other superhumans, ok, he can do things to you, bad things, real bad things, things like you can’t even imagine…”
Zoe laughed at that because she could imagine a lot of bad things being done to her. Matter of fact, she didn’t have to imagine them at all, all she had to do was remember them. And of course Flat Stanley was very well aware of the fact. So she laughed. Her nose crinkled up and her white teeth showed and she tossed her head back and if you hadn’t known why she was laughing, you would have thought she looked joyful, lighthearted, carefree.
But she was none of those things and severely doubted she ever would be again.
Zoe twisted the doorknob and was happy to find it unlocked. “Wow, something went right today, it’s a miracle.” She pushed the door open with a metallic squeal and stepped inside. It was dark but she could see light in the distance. “Come on, Stan.” She grabbed Flat Stanley by the upper ear, poking right through the cartilage with her diamond fingernail to make a hole to get her knuckle into, and pulled him through the doorway.
Stanley whimpered. “AAAAHHHH, jeez Louise, you’re mean! You are a MEAN PERSON!!”
“And to think I haven’t even got warmed up yet.” She tugged Flat Stanley along with her further into the warehouse so Detective Wallace could squeeze past them into the building. “Yoo-hoo,” she called. “Anyone home?”
“Ngyahh!” Flat Stanley grunted through his nose like the Three Stooges. “Look lady, listen, shut up, why don’t you, I mean seriously, think about it, the reason Desire leaves that door unlocked is because he can handle anybody who comes along!“
“Zoe, slow down here, just slow down,” Wallace didn’t particularly want to agree with Stanley, but he was appalled by the notion of marching in, marching in announced no less, to a place where someone strong enough to take out Captain Obvious was lurking. “We can’t even see where we’re going.” He followed Zoe anyway, even though it went against every instinct he had, both as a cop and as a human being, because he was in it, and when you’re in it, the only way out is through. He took his gun from the holster cause he figured he was gonna need it.
She groped the wall and found a set of lights, and flipped them on. The warehouse lit up like a football stadium. “Better?” she said sarcastically.
It started to dawn on DeShawn Wallace that maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop trusting Zoe to do the smart thing. Or the right one, either, for that matter, because the way she was acting was like she was planning a showdown and not an arrest.
When the lights came up Flat Stanley moaned because there was no way he was gonna get out of this without Desire seeing him, finding out he had led a cop and whatever it was Zoe Rose was, a hero, maybe, but Stanley wasn’t any too sure about that, right to his lair. “Desire? Desire! Help me, man, these people got ahold of me! Look out, they’re here for you, they want Obvious, help!” He shrieked for help a few more times and then Zoe got sick of it. She let go his ear and froze him solid to put a stop to his idiotic babbling. He turned whitish blue and sparkled with frost.
“What are you doing, Zoe?” Wallace asked, as he passed Flat Stanley, taking a wary look at the guy. He looked like a statue, his mouth still wide open screeching for someone to save him. Zoe was making Wallace very, very nervous and he had been pretty damn nervous to start out with. No good deed goes unpunished, a wry voice snarked from a distant corner of his mind.
“I don’t need him any more.”
“Can he live through that?”
“Geez, I have no idea,” Zoe said, looking back at Stanley. “But good point.” Then she gave a little hiccuping Cyndi Lauper yelp which stabbed into Wallace’s eardrums like an overly aggressive Q-tip and the Flat Stanley popsicle shattered into a million pieces, many of which ricocheted off the detective’s pants and leather coat before falling to the ground. “He can’t live through that, I don’t think.”
“God damn it, Zoe!” Wallace yelled, louder than he’d intended. She pressed her lips together and raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her and Wallace had the distinct impression the temperature dropped several degrees. So he backed off and mitigated his tone because making Zoe Rose angry or even just slightly irritated, seemed like a piss-poor idea just then. “You know that’s against the rules, Zoe, heroes don’t kill under any circumstances! First, you do no harm!” Oh Lord, the amount of favors he’d have to call in to get her out of this, he didn’t even know if he had enough favors owed him to do it. The authorities didn’t just let heroes kill with impunity, even when they were having a real bad day. It just was not done, not even to pieces of shit like Flat Stanley.
“I haven’t signed the paperwork, Detective,” she said calmly, and turned away, towards the place where the light in the darkness had been. The warehouse was full of boxes wrapped with what looked like Saran Wrap, stacked on pallets, and stretching up 10 or 20 feet tall, Zoe didn’t really know how high. All she knew was that that light was where Sanjay most likely was.
Wallace considered the implications of Zoe’s statement. It was true, she hadn’t signed the government paperwork which meant she hadn’t agreed to follow the rules of engagement, so maybe it would be easier to get her off the hook than he’d first thought. They did occasionally run into a hero who had killed an innocent bystander or in self-defense when their powers first came in, who maybe just needed some help learning to control their gift, and if the person could pass the psych eval they did usually get a second chance. He could talk it up so Flat Stanley was coming at her, maybe, build a case for self-defense, and hopefully Zoe would cooperate.
But the way Zoe had said it was more like she didn’t intend to sign the paperwork at all, and that meant…
Well, that meant she intended to be a villain. Somebody of Zoe’s caliber – a person who couldn’t be killed, not to mention her other party tricks – either signed the paperwork and agreed to work for the government, or else the heroes rounded them up and sent them to Hellgate for intensive counseling or even permanent collaring if the shrinks couldn’t talk them around. That was just how it had to be. And Wallace didn’t want to see that happen to Zoe Rose, was all. She was a victim, an innocent victim. She’d been through more than one person could take. The girl was out of her head, flat out of her head, she didn’t know what she was even doing, she wasn’t responsible.
“I know exactly what I’m doing, DeShawn,” she said, as if she’d heard his thoughts, and he sure hoped she couldn’t do that. “I made my choice, and I’ll take the consequences.”
Zoe felt bad for Wallace, she could tell he thought she was losing it, but she just couldn’t stand to let Stanley keep those memories of her, that was all. It helped her, so much, to know the person who hurt her was gone and that those thoughts of her were no longer in his filthy mind. It was like that feeling when you’ve been sick with a lingering illness and suddenly you wake up one morning and you’re better again; she felt a surge of renewed energy and a profound sense of relief. She was still scraped raw inside but it was fuckingfantastic knowing he wasn’t reliving what he did to her, and never could again.
Knowing that Flat Stanley was gone felt like a new scab forming over a wound. It was still there, you knew if you bumped it wrong it would start gushing blood all over again, but at least there was something hard and rough protecting her tender skin.
It occurred to her if she did decide to go to the Dark Side she could help a lot of women the way she’d just helped herself. They could never go back to the way they were before, but at least they could reclaim their memories and maybe feel a little better for it.
But before she could follow that train of thought back to the station she heard footsteps and a guy stepped out from behind some of the plastic-wrapped boxes. He seemed like he was vibrating slightly all over himself so she couldn’t make out his face or even what color his clothes were. Then she realized it wasn’t him that was vibrating, it was the air around him, and so she gave a shout his direction and disrupted the vibration so she could see him better for a moment before the air started vibrating again.
But even once she had seen him properly, she found him so unremarkable-looking he would have been hard to describe to someone else. He was ageless, raceless, and utterly forgettable. He could have been anyone in a crowd, you’d walk right by and two seconds later be unable to remember what he looked like. He was like if someone drew a stick figure and brought it to life. Zoe thought that if he wasn’t already called Desire, he should name himself Genericman.
He shut the vibrations off so Zoe could see him and then he smiled in an eerie way. Somehow his perfectly average face became even more perfectly average, despite its intense creepiness. “Cold and shrill. Excellent powers for a woman.” he taunted.
“Where’s Captain Obvious?” she asked, but before he answered Detective Wallace was stalking around in front of her with his ridiculous plastic stun gun held out in front of himself with both hands and Zoe totally wanted to do a facepalm.
“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law!”
Desire looked at the cop and busted out laughing. Then he looked at Zoe and she just shrugged. “I told him to stay in the car,” she explained. Zoe knew instinctively that there were two worlds, the human world and the superhuman world, and this was superhuman business that humans had no part in. Detective Wallace was like a mosquito trying to arrest an elephant and mosquitoes tended to get squished when they get too obnoxious. While she supposed she could have tried harder to keep him out of it, he just had to butt in and now he was going to pay the consequences. She felt a twinge of guilt but pushed it away since she didn’t have the mental energy for self-flagellation.
“Leave me alone,” Desire said in a weird way, and Wallace slumped and fell to the ground. His gun skittered away with a rattling sound.
“Did you kill him?” Zoe asked, hoping that he didn’t but understanding it if he did.
“Nah. I probably should, but humans taste terrible.” Desire, while irritated he’d been found and would now be on the radar of the LUPD unless he killed the cop, was positively thrilled by the new arrival. She smelled strong. Women tasted different than men, sweeter and spicier, so with Captain Obvious and whoever this girl was, it would be like he had himself dinner and a dessert. Maybe two supers might fill him up, finally. He wondered if he could drain them both at the same time, a trick that had never occurred to him probably since he’d never managed to catch two at the same time before. It sounded positively delish. His stomach growled loudly.
Plus, she was incredibly cute, delectable you might even say, and while he no longer had the ability to devour women in a sexual sense, an attractive meal was like sitting down to eat an elaborate bento box or maybe a beautifully frosted cake – he just appreciated the care that had been put into the package, was all. A feast for the eyes in addition to the stomach. His mouth watered and he had to actually swallow down his saliva.
So hungry. So so hungry.
“I’m here for Captain Obvious?” she prompted. While she was inclined to freeze first and ask questions later, the fact was that she didn’t know where Sanjay even was, if he was even here, and she didn’t want to kill the guy without being sure she’d found him.
“He’s in my BELLEH,” he replied, in a terrible Scottish accent like the guy on Austin Powers.
Zoe felt horror rising up her spine and hoped it wasn’t true.
“Get in my BELLEH,” he said to her and laughed in this sinister way, and Zoe realized he meant to eat her, to actually eat her, like, EAT HER eat her, which seemed like the capper on a pretty shit day overall. She send a dozen icicles his way and was stunned to see them drop right out of the air and shatter when they hit the floor. She shook her head which felt awfully fuzzy all of a sudden. “I need,” Desire said. “I NEED.”
She opened up her mouth to scream and all that came out was a mew like a kitten. Frying pan, fire, frying pan, fire, frying pan, fire, her brain babbled at her.
“I need,” Desire said again and started walking towards her.
One time when Zoe had been in high school she’d gotten anemia really bad, and after she’d done anything, even small tasks like just getting ready for school in the morning were exhausting; her muscles would shake and her heart would pound and she couldn’t catch her breath. Whatever was happening to her felt exactly like that. She could hardly stand up and so she bent over and tried to prop herself up with her hands on her knees and thought about how maybe she should have proceeded with just a smidge more caution.
What else did she have, what else did she have? She thought of her claws and they seemed permanent, like something no one could take away from her, and forced herself to shuffle forward an inch at a time, her right hand extended out in front of her. She had to get to him, she had to get close enough to get him.
“What?” Desire said. Something was wrong. He’d just given her a double whammy, a triple whammy even, by far and away more than it had taken to bring down Obvious, and not only was she was still on her feet, she was actually coming at him. “I NEED,” he said again, and drank down a great big gulp of her. Finally she crumpled to the floor. But only a few seconds later, much to Desire’s shock, she was trying to get up again.
He needs, he needs, he needs, Jesus. Zoe was just so sick of men and their needs, always taking precedence over everything else, it seemed like she was drawing power from it. Even though logically she knew it was her body healing itself she felt like it was that rage giving her strength and she shoved her elbow underneath herself and pushed her torso up. Men and their goddamn needs, most of which weren’t needs at all, they were wants stoked by porn and a world that told them that every momentary urge they ever experienced was fucking sacred and if they didn’t immediately act upon every whim they ever had they weren’t really living. Needs, FFS. Men’s “needs” were a freaking joke, only the joke was on women. She cocked a knee up beneath her other leg and struggled to get her feet back under her again. If she could just get close enough she could sink her fingernails into his throat and find the jugular, she just knew it. She just had to get close enough.
Desire couldn’t even believe his eyes. She was still coming. “I need?” he whispered, gently, so very gently, because he was starting to suspect he had someone special on his hands, someone he had been looking for for a long time. He was terrified of killing her so he mustered every ounce of self-control he had and sipped at her, looking for the sweet spot where she was incapacitated but not dead. He reached out with his hunger and tentatively probed her, felt her life force draining away into him, and then much to his surprise felt her filling up again the way a toilet fills up after you flush it, only far more appetizing.
Much to Desire’s amazement he realized he could take nearly everything out of her and then it just came back again. It was like magic and so he drained her and waited and drained her and waited and drained her and waited and he didn’t even know how long it went on. He lost all track of time. It was marvelous, it was bliss, it was paradise, it was like his every dream had come true. He could eat as much as he wanted to, he didn’t have to stop, he didn’t ever want to stop.
And then the most remarkable thing happened.
The hunger was gone. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t hungry at all, in fact, the idea of eating was vaguely repellent like he’d just eaten an extra large 4 meat pizza and an order of cheesy breadsticks and a 6 pack of beer and a bag of M and M’s a box of ice cream sandwiches and was still licking melting ice cream and bits of chocolate cookie off his fingers. He was finally full. He felt a surge of gratitude towards the unconscious girl and relief so great he actually felt a sob escape his chest.
With the hunger gone, finally gone, his body stepped on the clutch and shifted gears. Desire realized he had an erection, an urgent and undeniable erection, for the first time in seven years, since the truck carrying toxic waste had crashed into his Prius and the nickel-metal hydride batteries exploded turning him into whatever the fuck he was.
The girl was there already sprawled out on the floor. She was incredibly cute. Delectable. He thought he might love her, because he was so grateful to her, so thankful for her, she seemed like the answer to his every prayer. Even though he never would have thought himself the type of guy who could do such a thing, he found himself fumbling at his pants in desperation. His balls ached, itched, burned, throbbed from the agony of being pent up for seven years and he had to get it out of him before the moment passed or it would be stuck in there possibly forever. He had to, he had no choice. It had to come out. It wasn’t his fault, he had to do it. It wasn’t his fault, it was just his stupid body, he was a prisoner in it, a slave to it, he had no responsibility, he couldn’t be blamed, he was the real victim here, it wasn’t his fault, it had to come out. He was going to eat the girl anyway, what difference did it make anyway, no one would ever know anyway, no one would ever have to know what happened anyway, and he wondered how long he could keep her alive so he could do it again. And again and again. And again.
She stirred then, and he was glad because he kind of wanted to look in her eyes when it happened. Her eyelids flickered like a sleeping child and then flew open. She pushed up on both elbows and Desire was surprised to see an eager expression on her face.
Zoe bit her lip and willed him to get close enough, imagined her claws ripping open his throat, imagined him clutching at the wound with a betrayed expression, imagined the skin of his impossibly average face turning ghastly white as the blood drained out of his head, imagined him falling over and twitching and then going still. Then he smiled at her, a real smile this time, an open and guileless and warm smile that Zoe’s brain could make no sense of whatsoever, and burst into flames.
The heat coming off him was incredible; Zoe scrambled to her feet and took a couple steps back trying to get away from it before she remembered she could just create a pocket of cold air to protect herself. She heard Desire making horrific noises and saw him flailing around but she couldn’t see anything else beyond him since the light of the fire was so bright. Then he fell down and stopped moving, and the fire sprinklers came on, which was irritating so she froze them all solid so they would stop spraying her. It was enough water to knock down the flames a bit, though, so she could see someone walking towards her, a man with long black hair, in a crimson suit, with a gold cape swinging out behind him.
“Sanjay!” she exclaimed, her heart jumping for joy. Zoe wanted to run into his arms but there was a flaming man in the way.
By the time she’d said it he’d gotten close enough to see his face and it was furious, downright malignant, and she barely recognized him. If it hadn’t been for his costume she wasn’t sure she would have recognized him at all.
“Who the fuck are you?” Captain Obvious asked in a strangled voice.