Hades.

“And good riddance to ya, you bitch!” Kym yelled behind her.

“Um. Kym? Jen’s already left. She left five minutes ago.” Jimmie stated, an eyebrow raised. “You, um, saw her leave.”

Kym pouted. “Yeah, I know that!”

Jimmie nodded slowly. “So… Capricorn, that’s the one we decided on, right?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, Capricorn – Who is in… California, right?”

Jimmie nodded. “Turlock, California to be precise. Apparently Grim had, by coincidence, already found the boy a while back, but decided to leave him be until we started to gather.”

Kym nodded back. “Well then, this should be fairly easy…”

They made their way down the dark, moldy corridors until they came to one particular door – Metal, with some unreadable markings on it. Grim’s office, they’d been told. And, oddly enough, it was exactly like any other minor workers office – Beige and boring.

“Ready to go?” He asked, already ready himself. They nodded, and he sliced through the air with his scythe. Like a flash of light, they found themselves from Grim’s office to the rather large front yard of a mansion. A black iron gate, covered in vines, surrounded the perimeter. The house itself wasn’t all that impressive, as houses go, with plain white walls with black beams and a few flowerless bushes bordering it. The fancy wording across the gate was the only indication that the people living there, the Porter-Larson’s, were wealthy at all.

“Porter-Larson…” Jimmie murmured. “That sounds familiar.”

“Hm? Doesn’t sound that familiar to me…” Said Kym, shifting from one foot to the other in boredom.

“No, I’ve definitely heard it before… Aha!” She cried, snapping her fingers. “Geek Weekly, issue number 5! John Larson – One of his stories was plagiarized ten or so years back and he sued, and won. The story itself never got popular, but he made more money from the lawsuit than it ever made anyways. He and a partner tried writing a children’s book a little while later, but it was deemed ‘politically incorrect’ for attacking the morbidly obese, and no one would touch it. He was one of the warning stories featured in a piece about plagiarism and how to keep your works safe from it.” She explained. “It didn’t say what he’s doing now, though…”

“Huh.” Kym said vaguely, not interested. “…Well, let’s go!”

“We can hardly just waltz into the place.” Jimmie reminded her, somewhat put off by the dismissal of her explanation.

“That’s good.” Kym replied nonchalantly. “I don’t know how to waltz.”

Jimmie paused, then blinked and shook her head. “How are we going to do this?” She asked.

Instead of answering, Kym confidently walked up the front door, and knocked. Jimmie quietly shrieked. “What are you doing?”

Before Kym could answer, a man answered the door. His skin was nearly flour pale and his hair was almost as light. His jaw was stout and square and his mouth contorted in a frown.

“Hi!” Kym greeted him. He didn’t reply. “Um, is your son home?” She asked, but he immediately slammed the door in her face. “…That didn’t go quite as I’d expected.”

Jimmie rolled her eyes. “Just because your oversimplified, harebrained scheme worked last time with me doesn’t mean it will every time!” She sighed in exasperation.

“Well, guess we’ll have to sneaky about it, huh?” She replied casually, then walked over to a wooden fence about fifteen feet away, which separated the front yard from the back yard. “Judging by the strength I’d say the source of the tug is about sixty feet away, so the kid is either in the very back of the house or in the backyard. Either way it is fine – I’m sure there’s a window back there. If not, we’ll just break in tonight.”

“B-Break in?” Jimmie gasped.

“Yeah – But break-ins are troublesome, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” She replied, holding out her hands to pick the brown haired girl up. Jimmie complied, albeit reluctantly, and hefted herself up with Kym’s help, making it to the other side safely, despite the dangerous point the wooden pickets came to. After that, to Jimmie’s surprise, Kym started to pull herself up, without anyone’s help, cutting her hands in the process due to the weight she was putting on them and on such a sharp area.

“Watch it!” Jimmie hissed, wondering how she could not notice it.

Kym didn’t reply until she was on the other side of the fence. She held out her hands to Jimmie’s face, and she jumped back, expecting there to be blood. There wasn’t. But there had been. But there wasn’t now.

“That’s pretty nif-” Jimmie started, but a low growl interrupted her. She turned around slowly, barely suppressing an ‘eep!’ as she saw what was behind her – A bad tempered bull mastiff. She looked to Kym, who seemed unimpressed.

“A-Aren’t you scared?” Jimmie whispered, jumping slightly as the dog growled a little lower.

Kym shrugged lazily – Or was she not trying to alarm the mastiff? – And replied, “I’ve little patience for dogs in general, let alone the ones that bare their teeth at me.” She sighed. “The wind is blowing towards the right, to take a few steps toward the left, and hold your breath while you’re at it.” She told her, taking in a large breath herself. Confused, Jimmie slowly inched to the left. He stomach churned when a sudden sound grinded from Kym’s insides – Like her ribs were rearranging themselves. Jimmie looked to her face – It was contorted with pain. A second later, the grinding, snapping noises from Kym’s chest subsided, and as did her expression of pain, and she stepped forward, kneeling, her face inches from the dog’s, who looked extremely irritated at being approached, his ears back and his lips completely separate from his teeth, his mouth slightly agape, preparing to bite.

Kym let out the breath Jimmie hadn’t known she’d been holding. But it was not invisible, as air normally is when it’s not cold. It wasn’t even white, as it is when it is cold. It was a smoggy periwinkle, and in less than two seconds, the dog’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and he fell over onto his side.

Jimmie waited for the wind to take all traces of the periwinkle mist away before she breathed again, squirming as she heard the sound of rearranging insides once more.

“That I know of, there are twenty different possible fumes that I can create. Probably more, but I haven’t learned of them yet. This one is one of the Sleepers – I have five others that range in potency and side effects. This one is the Minor Sleeper – On a full grown human, it’d last about thirty minutes. It should last at least an hour or two on this dog.” She explained, and Jimmie listened, fascinated despite herself. “The others are the Superior Sleeper, which puts the victim into a near coma for at least two days, the Mid-Sleeper, which lasts six to eight hours, the Phobia Sleeper, which is a mix of one of the Sleepers and another poison called Psychosis, which causes scary hallucinations.”

Jimmie nodded. “What else?” She asked. If it wasn’t already to terribly interesting to her, she’d ask anyways just in case she ever needed to use it against someone. She wasn’t bad, though, just paranoid.

“Well,” Kym continued, “There’s Suggestion, which causes the victim to be easily manipulated by my voice. Mixed with a Sleeper, it becomes Rest, a type of Sleeper that causes good dreams and is likely to be the best sleep you ever had. There’s Pheromone, which causes feelings of… Adoration. Mixed with a Sleeper, it causes dreams of, um…” Jimmie nodded in understanding, waving her hand for her to continue. She did so, coughing in slight embarrassment. “And it’s called the Wet Sleeper. Anyways. There’s Stopper, which causes numbness throughout the body – Again, there’s a Superior Stopper, Mid-Stopper and Minor Stopper – Which lasts three hours, one hour and ten minutes, respectively. Then there’s Blood Seal, which speeds up the healing process for open wounds and forces them to heal faster. Er, that one usually requires mouth-to-mouth administration.” She blushed.

Jimmie waited a few seconds for her to go on. “That’s only thirteen.” She informed her. She’d been counting.

“The others kill or maim.” She replied, sounding regretful. “That’s all you need to know about them…”

“But,” She protested. “How do you mean? In different ways? What do they do?”

“I’m sure you’ll learn eventually.” Kym replied, her voice not rude but final. Jimmie decided that she hadn’t given up on the subject but, for then, she’d leave it alone.

“What about those sounds?” She asked. “Why does it make those sounds when you activate it?”

“The glands that make these Poisons are located in between the ribs and my skin. When I breathe in, and activate the gland, the rib has to be pushed aside for the… stuff… To get into my lungs… You know, I’m not a doctor, I really don’t know all the mechanics of it.” She told her, grinning in embarrassment.

“And you’re immune to these toxins?” She asked, understanding well enough.

“Yeah, for the most part. I might feel slightly woozy after using a Superior Sleeper or Stopper, but that’s because even though it’s the same toxin, it’s a lot of it. More than I usually have to use.” Jimmie nodded.

“So you can heal yourself, and you secrete toxic fumes… Anything else?” She asked, semi-sarcastically.

Kym nodded. “Ice. And water. I can control water and freeze it into different shapes.”

“What are you guys, Dungeons and Dragon’s fanatics?”

Kym and Jimmie jumped. They’d been so immersed in their discussion, they hadn’t noticed the boy creep up on them until he was a mere six feet from them. He was small, obviously young, and had none of the squared features his father possessed. In fact, just a little smaller and a little pointier and he could pass for waif-like. His eyes were a startling emerald green, hidden by large, round glasses. Kym blinked in surprised as she looked closer still. His hair was dark brown, but there was half an inch of unmistakably dark green roots.

“Who are you people?” He asked distrustfully, looking to his side. “…And what’d you do to my dad’s dog?”

“I breathed on him.” Kym answered truthfully. “And my name is Kym. With a ‘Y’, not an ‘I’!” She added. “And this here is Jimmie.”

Jonathan shrugged slowly, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “And? What the hell are you doing here?”

Kym’s insides began to make that sickening noise once more. She stepped forward and breathed into the boy’s face, a pale yellow this time. His eyes widened, then drooped. “Why don’t you follow me, sweetheart?” She asked. He nodded dumbly, taking her hand, at which the tug disappeared, and waited to be led.

“Pheromone?” Jimmie guessed.

“God, no!” Kym replied. “It’s Suggestion. I don’t use Pheromone on younger people.” She left who was considered ‘younger’ vague. “Hey, sweety – You know what? I’m gonna call you Capri. Short for Capricorn, you know? And it’s cute.” She smiled at the boy, who smiled lazily back. “Capri, is there an easier way back to the front yard than climbing the fence, that won’t get us caught?”

Capri, as the boy would be called until Kym bothered to ask him his real name, nodded and pointed to the gate, about two feet from where Kym and Jimmie had climbed, which was right next to the wall of the house. “The gate’s right there.” He said. Jimmie smacked her forehead.

“Ahaha. Thanks, Capri.” Kym replied, embarrassed, opening the gate for them. “Let’s hurry about this, yeah? I don’t have a car, or a license for that matter, for we’re gonna have to run, okay?”

Capri smiled. “He won’t notice I’m gone. I’ve already done my chores.” Kym blinked at this, but decided to ask about it later.

They ran off the property, and true to his words, Capri’s father hadn’t noticed at all. Once they were a good distance down the dirt road they began walking instead of running, and Kym explained everything to Capri, who either understood completely or was just nodding obliviously to everything Kym said. Jimmie could tell which, so she asked.

“It’s not like he’s stoned or anything.” She replied. “He’ll remember everything I’ve said to him, he’s just got a more agreeable disposition right now.” Jimmie shook her head. Was there much of a difference?

“What’s your real name, boy?” Jimmie asked, a little uncomfortable using Kym’s stupid nickname.

He stopped smiling at Kym and gave Jimmie a dirty look. “I’m not telling you.” He said immaturely. “I don’t even know you. You just come and take me away from my home and expect me to—!”

“Calm down, Capri.” Kym said slowly, petting his hair. He calmed down again and smiled up at her. “Uh, yeah, Jimmie? Just so you know, people under Suggestion’s effects are manipulated by my voice. Ahaha.” She smiled, finding the affronted look on Jimmie’s face priceless. “So what is your real name, Capri?” She asked him afterwards, and Jimmie huffed.

“I’m Jonathan.” He replied. “Jonathan Porter-Larson.”

Kym grinned. “Nice to meet you, cutey. My name is Kym Osvitch. Are you normally so disagreeable, Jonathan, dear?” She asked, wondering if she’d have to use Suggestion on him often.

“Not really.” He replied. “You just caught me in a bad mood because my dad is switching my schools again, right when I finally started making friends.”

“That sucks.” Kym replied piteously. “What school were you going to?”

“Adam Warding’s Private Academy for Boys.” He replied. “It’s my third private school so far. I’ve also attended North Abben’s and Worthingwell. Now dad wants to send me to Courtridge.”

Jimmie blinked in surprised. “Kym!” She hissed. “Those are really ritzy schools!”

“I can hear you, bitch.” Jonathan replied, irritated.

“Just ignore Jimmie for a while, okay?” Kym said quickly, smoothing out his hair while Jimmie seethed.

“Listen, lawsuit or no, this guy shouldn’t be able to afford to send his kids to these kinds of schools. Those schools are the kinds of schools the son’s of doctors and politicians attend, not some guy who sued for a stolen story that wasn’t even popular anyways.”

Kym nodded. “Capri, what do your parents do to make money?”

Capri shrugged. “My mom doesn’t work. She stays at home all the time. My dad works, but I don’t really know what he does.”

Jimmie looked pointedly at Kym. “Sounds illegal if you ask me.”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Kym replied, although she couldn’t hide all of her interest. “He’s not going back to them, after all.”

Jimmie sighed and shrugged herself. “I guess. I’m just saying, it sounds totally sleezy.”

“Nobody asked you.” Jonathan replied testily, figuring it’d been ‘a while’.

“Jonathan Porter-Larson, you be nice to her!” Kym finally scolded. “She’s your superior in rank and your elder, so there will be none of that.”

Jonathan nodded obediently. “Are you her superior?” He asked. “I don’t wanna take orders from her if she’s giving them to you.”

Kym shook her head. “Once this team has been formed, I’m declaring myself leader, assuming no one else has an issue with that or can prove themselves more capable than I.” She smiled. “But Jimmie’s still done nothing to you, so you need to stop being so rude to her, or anyone else.”

He nodded, turning to Jimmie. “I’m sorry.” He said. Jimmie nodded back to him, wondering if it was genuine or not.

“So, what’s your powers, kid?” Jimmie asked, figuring he’d answer her questions nicely now.

Jonathan looked at her quizzically. “Powers?”

“Yeah, what’s your big stupendous ability?” She replied, readjusting her ponytail and looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. He merely shrugged. “You don’t know?” She asked doubtfully. “You’ve never had an odd experience that you couldn’t explain?”

He thought about it. “…A few years back, my grandma died. I went outside and cried, and blue flowers grew where my tears fell. They wilted in seconds, though.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Kym shrugged. “The tug proves it’s him anyways.”

“Yeah, but…” Jimmie curled her lip in disappointment. “It’s just kind of lame, you know?”

“And you’re kind of a bitch.” Jonathan replied curtly.

Jimmie grabbed his ear. “What is wrong with you, you little punk!”

“Let go of me, you bossy old hag!”

“Both of you, knock the crap off!”

Both of them quieted down reluctantly, Jimmie let go of Jonathan’s ear and he in turn moved closer to Kym.

“Suggestion’s effects have probably worn off by now. You still want to come?” Kym asked him.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“…I want stability.” He answered. “I get that kind of vibe from you. Chaotic stability.”

This comment surprised both Kym and Jimmie into a longer than normal silence. “Chaotic stability, huh?” Kym said finally, smirking. “I like that.”

Jimmie subtly rolled her eyes. Did the boy even know what he was talking about?

“Yeah,” He continued. “You remind me of a force of nature. People know what it is you do, but you still manage to surprise them. It’s weird talking like this, since we just met and all, but that’s what I feel…” He said, blushing.

Kym nodded in understanding. “Sometimes instincts are right…” She said vaguely.

“Well my instincts,” Jimmie interrupted, “Are telling me to get this punk something to eat – Look at how scrawny he is!” She smiled good-naturedly down at him. He smiled back, blushing slightly.

“Cheeseburger sound good to you guys?” Kym asked them both. Jimmie nodded.

“Yes, please and thank you.” He said, suddenly shy.

“And after that,” Kym continued. “We’ll go back to saving the world or whatever it is we’re doing.”