Valuable Merchandize

Chapter 3. Horror

by Skytower

When she was a little girl Alex Cabbot had lived in an expensive house with rich parents. She and her friends had been rich enough to afford nearly any toy they wanted. Her best friend Angela had more Barbie dolls than anyone else did on the planet. Angela's brother Andrew, old enough to be a teenage menace, loved constructing monster models. It was not strange for Alex to walk in on a fight between the two of them as Andrew stole Angela's Barbies to use in his monster models. He delighted in putting Barbie under Godzilla's foot or in the grasp of Frankenstein or Dracula. One Halloween he had done it once too often and Angela, dressed as Wonder Woman, had smashed all his models. Years later it was still something the three of them laughed about.

Alex was beginning to feel like one of Angela's dolls. At first Alex had counted "days" as the number of times she was questioned. But that count had been screwed up by her period. Olivia had started hers shortly after that. The menstrual cycles amused the drow. They regarded it as a peculiar show and Alex had endured the sort of humiliation that she hadn't felt since puberty. The questioning had stopped, mainly since neither woman was capable of movement for at least two days. Alex was sure that something in the food had caused the severe cramps and bleeding. Drog had turned from jailer to a surprisingly gentle nurse. Alex and Olivia both appreciated her help, even if it was only done at orders and ended when they both recovered.

Alex guessed it had been nearly a month since they had been taken. In that month she had passed day after day explaining to Matron Mother Mer'olin the laws of the United States of America. They had started at the simplest concepts and worked their way through every facet of the law Alex knew. The drow queen was brilliant, possessed a photographic memory and seemingly unlimited endurance. A day for her was at least a day and a half for Alex. Only the sweet wine they allowed her to drink kept Alex's voice from dying through overwork. They were running out of things to question her about and that frightened the woman. Drog had explained that once the drow didn't have a primary use for Alex and Olivia their lives would get even worse.

Alex wasn't sure how it could get worse. She hadn't worn clothes for the entire time she had been held captive. Except for the first day she had not taken a bath, brushed her teeth, combed her hair or eaten a decent meal. Her skin, always fair, was turning white and when Alex ran her fingers along her body she could feel her ribs. The water was so harsh it burned her mouth, the food was so foul Alex thought that at times she was eating mud. There was no chance of escape. Alex and Olivia's only hope of flight was that Wonder Woman had been captured with them. Alex had heard often how heroines and heroes escaped from dungeons and castles. At the very least she knew that the Justice League would look for Wonder Woman.

That hope died when Alex and Olivia were led into the audience chamber of Matron Mother Mer'olin Ardul'ithra. Alex had known it was not going to be a normal questioning period. She and Olivia had been brought to the chamber together, something that had never happened before. Also instead of the usual harnesses that pulled their arms painfully behind their backs, Olivia and Alex had simply been chained and shackled.

The chamber was the same as it had always been. Filled with flickering shadows cast by torches. Dark to her eyes and chilling to her other senses. The group that gathered around the Matron Mother was different. Flanking the Matron Mother was Wonder Woman and Supergirl. Wonder Woman's hair was still black, but her eyes were red. Her costume had been changed, red spiders, not white stars adorned her blue trunks. Two dark spiders had replaced the golden eagle on her chest. Only her bracelets and tiara remained the same. Supergirl's eyes were red as well. Her costume was a jet black short skirt and boots with a grey halter top with a silver spider on her chest rather than the letter "S". Alex heard Olivia's gasp and felt her own heart sink. It sank even further as the two heroines started to laugh. No heroine could ever have laughed that way. It was a laugh not of merriment, but of pure sadistic malice.

"Come on ladies." The Joker said walking out of the shadows. He carried a leash and on the other end of that leash the Black Canary, clothed in her costume of black leather and fishnets, crawled on all fours. "Don't you get the joke?"

"The Joker." Olivia whispered.

"You did all this?" Alex asked.

"Him?" The Matron Mother laughed. "A male and human? Foolish rothe', he is but a slave only slightly more useful than the two of you."

"And not nearly as photogenic." The Joker laughed.

"Their reaction was as you predicted." the Matron Mother said. "And my daughters have confirmed the rest of your plan will work. You may live for another day."

"Jolly well." The Joker said. "Can I play with these two as a reward?"

The Matron's glare wilted even The Joker's normal good humor.

"You may live, consider that a reward."

"Thanks loads." The Joker said, but his tone was respectful. He bowed and left giving the Black Canary a harsh tug to make her follow him.

Alex wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that they would not be handed over to The Joker or the fact that the drow could tame even him.

Supergirl, or rather the body that looked like Supergirl floated over to Alex and Olivia.

"You are a law enforcement officer." She said stroking Olivia's face. "Supergirl's memories tell me that you would know how to deal with street gangs, addicts." She turned to Alex. "You won't be. Without your guards around to control them..."

Alex wanted to say something but fear kept her voice in check. Before she could overcome it Supergirl turned away and floated back over to land beside the Matron Mother.

"I see no reason to change any plans you have made Matron Mother."

"Nor do I." Mer'olin said. "Briz'aere, Barri'duis, take your forces, you know how many we need and where to find them."

"As you command Matron Mother." Supergirl and Wonder Woman bowed and then left.

"Char'al." At her words another drow appeared out of the shadows. Alex recognized him as the dark elf that she had seen on Earth. "Take the dark haired one, make sure your spell works."

"At once Matron Mother." Char'al said and walked down the steps. "Bring her." he ordered Drog. Obediently the cambion picked up Olivia in two of her four arms and followed him.

Don't struggle, Alex thought and wished as Olivia was taken out of the room. They had both agreed that struggling was useless. But even as Olivia didn't struggle Alex felt herself despair even more. What ever was going to happen to her friend Alex knew that Olivia was going to be useful. That meant she was going to live. That was something Alex couldn't count on for herself.

Matron Mother Mer'olin flowed down the steps and walked over to Alex. Alex swallowed and pulled at her chains, hating herself for the weakness she was showing. She was taller than the drow by at least a foot, but that height seemed to mean very little. The matron mother took hold of Alex's' chin and deep red eyes bored into her soul, driving Alex into darkness.

Olivia was carried out of the chamber and down winding corridors that were completely dark. Olivia tried to control her fear and not to struggle. After so long in Drog's care she knew that it was impossible for her even to hurt the four-armed cambion.

Olivia heard a door open and after a little more time felt herself being laid down on a cold table. She tried to rise only to have Drog push her down. Straps that felt like leather were fastened tightly over her body. Her head was placed in some sort of clamp that held it rigidly.

"You can not see anything at the moment can you?" Char'al said.

"Nothing but black." Olivia said and then added "sir." before he could strike her.

Olivia suddenly felt something being placed on her eyes. The lids were pulled out and up, forcing them to stay open. The helpless woman had time for a deep breath of shock before something was dripped onto her eyes. She let that breath out as a deep long terrified scream.

In one of the deepest parts of the Underdark there lay a small cavern. Small in terms of the Underdark at least. In human terms the cavern measured a half mile wide and twenty miles long. Branching off from this cavern was a smaller cavern, one that was one half mile wide by a mile square. A short corridor lead to this cavern and at the end of the corridor a number of small beings labored. They were the Svirfneblin, also known as the Deep Gnomes. Dark mottled skin and hairless heads marked the race, as well as the typically short stature of beings related to gnomes. The average svirfneblin stood barely three and one half inches in height. He loved nothing more than crafting beauty from stone and gems, and was suspicious of nothing more than any creature who was not of his own race.

Thack Gem-eater, leader of the svirfneblin watched with satisfaction as his men worked on the stone. The entrance to the smaller cavern was six feet round; the rock they were fitting to it would be unmovable and leave a space large enough only for a deep gnome to pass through. Behind him in the cavern more work was going on. Thuck, his son came up behind him. They were dressed, as most of the svirfneblin were dressed, in a combination of tough rothe' leather and small plate armor.

"None will find us." Thuck said, but it was more of a prayer than a statement. Because of the skill and beauty in which they worked deep gnomes were highly prized slaves to drow, illithid and other races of the Underdark. Thuck and his people had been slaves up until only a few months before, when a drow raid on their duergar captives had given them a chance to escape. The Duergar were gray dwarves, not as cruel as the drow but in no way merciful. A drow would throw you to his runner beast if you didn't work hard enough a duergar would simply whip you to death. In the confusion of magic and sword Thuck had managed to get nearly all of his people, over a hundred deep gnomes out of the duergar city and into the wilds of the Underdark. Now after months of perils and monsters their number stood at a little over 60. There was no way they could make it back to the regions of the svirfneblin, weak as they were in numbers and lacking any real weapons. Finding the cavern had seemed like a gift from the god Callarduran. Here Thock was sure they could build a city. There was water, ore for metal and they were far enough away from the main paths of the Underdark that none should even know they existed. There was even a fertile cavern of various molds nearby.

"None think we are alive." Thock said, adding his prayer to his sons.

"Drow come!" screamed a sentry fleeing down the corridor toward them with all his speed.

Both father and son cursed and rushed to help the others move the boulder into place. If nothing else they could seal the entrance completely and hope the drow would go away.

It took twenty of them straining to move the boulder the five feet to the entrance. Once it was in place as many hands packed a special type of mud around the edges. The mud dried to rock almost instantly. When it was done the svirfneblin stood back. Nervously they looked to their leader. Thock stood still, staring and listening at the rock. It was a large stone, the mud was proof against magic moving it, but Thock had full reasons to be fearful. The drow were wicked, but they were also resourceful and his group had few weapons. The sentry had collapsed and was dying a slow painful death from a poison dart. A crossbow was the favorite weapon of drow priestess.

Thock was still considering his options when the stone that had taken weeks to carve and days to put into place was splintered into pebbles. As the dust cleared two women, human women walked into the cavern. Thock had never seen human women before, but he had heard them described. They towered over the deep gnomes. One of them wore a cape and skirt that faded in and out of the shadows. The other wore little but a one piece covering for her chest and lower body. Both had the evil red eyes of the drow. Behind them stood a score of dark elves, armored for battle with weapons ready. Again his people looked to Thock.

Sick in his soul but realizing that any fight would be hopeless the svirfneblin cast any thoughts of a pleasant peaceful life into the abyss and went down on one knee. Silently he bowed his head and a part of him hoped they would take it, freeing his soul from his body.

Her body and mind were being prepared. Alex knew that. Her senses were faint, vague, her mind half asleep, pliable. Some force that she could never have imagined existing was shaping her mind to some predetermined form. At the same time moving along the very pathways of her brain was an agent that twisted and bowed the physical structure of the cells and neural pathways. There was pain, but there was no pain. Her body was in no pain, for the inside of the brain has no nerve cells, but the mind in the body felt the agent, fought the agent and was defeated by the agent.

But even as she fought and lost, having no idea how she knew to fight and therefor how she lost; Alex felt the change in her was for the better. Her mind was more open now, more receptive to ideas and sensations that evolution had long since denied most humans. Evolution dictated that you only could understand what you needed to survive. For the first time Alex realized how restrictive that was. But like a blind woman suddenly given sight Alex was overwhelmed by it all. As she hovered inside herself, helpless, Alex wondered if she was near death, or dead.

Olivia eyes stung and burned but she was helpless to do anything but scream about it, and too tired even to scream anymore. The leather straps held her nude body; the harness held her head and what ever had been poured into her eyes held them open. It might have been acid that the drow dripped into her forced-open eyes, it stung like the cheapest brand of shampoo. Olivia wondered if they were blinding her on purpose, she had heard that some cultures did that to slaves in order to keep them more docile. But what could a blind slave do?

Light.

And again, light. Shapes. The ceiling formed itself into a pattern of smooth rock, then sharpened into focus until Olivia was able to see the veins of light and dark minerals. At first it was like looking through a dirty plastic bag, but as she concentrated the image cleared.

"You can see now." Char'al said.

"Yes." Olivia said, too confused to even add the word: "sir" onto the end of her sentence. There was no light, she was sure of that. The room was still dark and she could see.

The drow leaned over her and Olivia was stunned by the clarity. His lean, handsome face was so detailed she could have counted the white hairs on his head. He tapped the shell that had grown around her eyes and Olivia gasped as the feeling was relayed into her brain.

Reaching over the drow took something metal and placed it onto her forehead. It felt warm for a moment and Olivia felt like pins were being stuck into her skin. Then it was over.

The straps and harness that held her down were removed and Olivia sat up, looking at the room. It was a small place, no more than ten feet by twenty feet with a low ceiling. A laboratory with shelf after shelf filled with small bottles and table after table filled with bubbling and/or boiling potions. Olivia could see it all, but it was not normal sight. It wasn't even the view she would have seen through a nightscope. It was more like the lighting in a mall, or a clothing store's dressing room. The light seemed to be coming from everywhere, but there was no source to it. Olivia reached up and felt her face. Her fingers made contact with some sort of hard ridged covering over her eyes.

Only the fact that her vocal cords were worn out kept Olivia from screaming. As she had touched the covering she had felt it, not only with the skin on her fingertips, but she had felt her fingertips touching the covering. She hadn't wanted to believe it when the drow had touched her. A hard shell was over her eyes and that shell was part of her body now, like a fingernail or a lock of hair. Olivia blinked and was grateful that underneath the shell her eyelids still worked.

"Don't try to remove them." Char'al said. "It would be quite painful.

"Why...?" Olivia whispered.

"Dress." Drog ordered, handing Olivia a rough pair of overalls. It was the simplest of garments, a square flap in the front and back connected to a pair of knee length trousers. Drog handed Olivia a pair of boots after she had put on the overalls. The boots and the overalls were made from a tough grey leather-like material. There wasn't enough of the top and Olivia's breasts escaped as she put on the boots. She shoved them back into the garment and stood up.

"Come with me." Char'al ordered.

Alex opened her eyes. Or rather she became aware they were open. In truth they had most likely been open all the time. Facing her was the cage with the elf woman. Close up Alex saw that she was incredibly, aristocratically beautiful. She had a delicate almond shaped face, skin fairer than Alex's own, slim lips, a perfect nose and eyes of the deepest blue that had ever existed. They eyes were dull, lifeless. At least at first. As Alex became aware of a chanting voice behind her she became more aware of the eyes in front of her. Eyes that now took on a life. Suddenly, and for only an instant, Alex looked into the eyes of a living elf. The elf was awake, alive and in that instant Alex felt her self crushed. Energy flowed between them, from the elf, from Ul-honathra; for Alex knew her now, to Alex. In the one instant that life was allowed back into the elf her entire life was copied and placed in Alex. Over five hundred years of life, every moment, every feeling, every thought and dream exploded into Alex's brain. It was like forcing an ocean through a keyhole into a wine bottle. Alex saw Ul-honathra's birth, felt it, felt her mind grow and acquire wisdom and knowledge, felt the elf's pain and joy in growing up, her first love, her first lover... everything.

When it was over Alex was amazed that she was still sane. But that sanity was a straw cage around her mind and it was built from sheer desperation. Her memories of her own childhood flowed like hot wax, mixed with Ul-honathra's and as they did so her very identity, her sense of self merged with the elvan noblewoman.

Alex had always thought herself a good person. She fought crime in the courts, used her wealth for charities and was a good friend to many. But stacked up against the nobility of the elvan noblewoman Alex felt like a knavish pretender. Lady Ul-honathra of the Sparkling Wood had left her home after four hundred years of paradise. She had done so because only she knew the spells that could save the world. In saving the world she had fallen in love with a human, but he had fallen in battle and she had been taken by drow into the Underdark. But a new love came into her life. Dirz'aere, a battle captive, a drow, a slave like herself. A dark elf who had turned away from the Spider God Lloth and embraced Lloth's daughter goddess Eilistraee. Together they had found love and escape, leading those that would follow into the Underdark to a place, this place. An ancient city built by the Deep Imaskari and abandoned. A place long forgotten, but full of promise. Instead of leaving her lover and those who needed her Ul-honathra had stayed, far away from the sun and lands she loved. She learned to use the Room of Portals, getting what they needed from other worlds.

Then Mer'olin and her family found and attacked them. Some of the denizens fought and died others fled. Ul-honathra and Dirz'aere, along with a few others, made their last stand in the Room of Portals. Ul-honathra managed to open one of the portals and the last of the refugees made it through before the drow broke in. With her last strength Ul-honathra shoved Dirz'aere through another portal, one that led she knew not where. It had to be that way. Alex knew that now because Ul-honathra knew that then. The being that opened that type of portal could not travel through it. As a fallen priestess of Lloth Dirz'aere would have endured years of suffering before she died and even after that her soul would have been taken by Lloth for even more torture. Then Ul-honathra had closed the portal, but been captured before she could break the key that opened it.

The straw that held Alex's sanity cracked and burned in the fury that was the storm of the elf's memories. She felt them as Ul-honathra fought and lost to the drow, felt them as she was tortured, felt them as she was ensorcelled into the magical cage. Doomed to live in the same instant of agony for all time. But the drow awakened her at times. To copy her mind, steal her secrets. They had done it before and they had done it now, and Alex saw herself as the last of the elf's memories merged with hers.

It was over and Alex/Ul-honathra, helpless and full of knowledge and power fell to the floor. When they at last opened their eyes it was to look upon the smiling face of Matron Mother Mer'olin.

"It has been a very long while Ul-honathra." Matron Mother Mer'olin said. Her smile was the most evil expression Alex/Ul-honathra had ever seen. The elf would have instantly erected a myriad of defenses, mystical and mental against the drow, but the copy of the elf had no such power. Alex/Ul-honathra screamed as their mind was forced open.

Detective work was a long endless maze of facts, figures and records. In the modern society that was America almost nothing could be done without leaving a paper or electronic trail. That didn't mean the trail was easy to follow, or even to find. It just meant that the trail was there.

The detectives in the SVU were used to following trails. It could be the simplest thing that pointed the way, a particular brand of cleaner or even a bit of pollen from an exotic plant.

But the work was tedious at the best of times, and when two of their own were the victims' frustration was the greatest of enemies. Eliot Stabler put down the real-estate transaction list and looked the clock on his desk. The numbers 7:04 looked back at him. Sighing he stood up. Olivia was his partner, Alex his friend, but he had learned, harshly, that if he did not spend at least some time with his family, and weekends were the most vital time, then he would be no help to anyone. His cellphone would be on and if anything were to happen the squad would alert him. Still it was with a sense of guilt that he shut off his computer.

"Don't feel bad man." Detective Tutoualo said. "We ain't getting nowhere tonight."

"Yea." Elliot agreed, putting on his coat. He picked up a file folder from his desk. "At least I got something to bring to the kids tonight."

"Not superman's autograph yet though." Detective Munch commented looking up from his own work.

"He's still somewhere near Pluto." Elliot said. Usually he didn't talk about his cases to his daughters, two nearly out of high school the others still in grade school, but superhero cases were different. So far Batgirl, Wondergirl, Barda and a few others on the Justice League had sent him the autographed pictures his daughters had demanded. It was great to see his girls happy, but it added slightly to the sense of guilt Elliot felt.

"He should be back sometime next week." Batgirl said.

Eliot stumbled and all of them stopped working. Both Batgirl and Batman had been appearing in the squadroom for weeks. Despite that they still startled the detectives. They always avoided security and appeared to materialize from nowhere.

"Great." Munch said. "So we can stop working then?"

"If it were that easy the Justice League would never have formed." Batgirl said. "Do any of you know of a man named Ithaca Vallerio?"

"Ity-House Vallerio." Fin said. "Owns most of the crack houses in Queens and some in Jersey. Couple of hooker homes too. Narcotics got him last night with a bunch of his girls."

"What would he have to do with all of this?" Elliot asked.

"His named showed up on an ancestor list on one of the corporations that owned the apartment building that collapsed."

"Ancestor list?" Munch asked.

"His grandfather built the place." Batgirl said. "Vincent Spazoria, it took a while to go through the birth list but Vallerio is the one who ended up with it."

"What records were you looking through?" Fin demanded. "We're still going through corporate."

"I used the Time Master's viewer to run a temporal scan." Batgirl said. "I watched the place being built and then I kept watching it, fast forwarding until I got a match with some mug shots. Once I spotted and identified Spazoria I watched every move he and his heirs made until 4 years ago."

"Why'd you stop?"

"The closer it gets to the present the more un-reliable the temporal scan becomes." Batgirl said. She sat down at the terminal that linked the SVU unit to the JLA database and started to type in commands.

"We could use that sort of equipment you know." Elliot said. "On other cases."

"It takes a year to build up enough power for a scan. And the scanner itself is about as big as this building." Batgirl said. "The JLA isn't holding back useful technology from..."

"What?" Munch asked as Batgirl stopped talking.

"A break." Batgirl said. On the screen was a picture of Vallerio and the four women he had been arrested with. Three of the women were attractive, but one was young and plain.

"Do you people realize that you have Georgia Sylvana in custody?" Batgirl asked.

It was different now that she could see. It was different now that she was dressed and was wearing boots. Somehow Olivia was more than just a prisoner; just not much more, it was, she was sure, a transformation from prisoner to slave. Olivia saw the corridors and rooms of the drow stronghold clearly now. She saw the difference between the ancient stone work of that other race, the race that had built the city, and the recent work of the drow. She saw also the variety of life forms, creatures out of legend and nightmare that populated the place. A pair of minotaurs wrestled huge stones into place, sealing off a corridor. Driving them on was a small drow female with a snake headed whip. Further on dog like creatures, standing on two feet, tall and evil looking with black and brown fur, used long spear-like weapons to torture a creature that looked like a man in grey robes, yet who had a head that looked like a squid. The creature did not speak, but Olivia heard its pain in her mind.

They came to the opening of a balcony and Olivia's mouth fell open at the sight before her. It was as if someone had built a vast walled city. A city with towering spires and domes, fantastic dwellings shaped like seashells and statues of creatures that Olivia had never seen before. She guessed that most of the buildings boasted ornate carvings of gods and demons, but for all she knew the creatures portrayed were the original builders. It was all made from the purest onyx and trimmed with gold, silver and studded with enough gems to fill the treasuries of the world ten times over.

But then that same someone, that unknown builder of the magnificent, had half-melted the stone, buried a quarter of the city, sprayed the rest with mud and finally thrown it into the deepest darkest hole he could find and covered it up. Somehow Olivia knew that the world had still been very, very young when last the stone of the city was warmed by the sun.

From where Olivia stood she was nearly a mile away from the place and it filled the horizon. The drow, human and cambion stood in the entrance to a smaller building, one carved out of a giant stalactite. An outpost or fort, that perhaps was a gatehouse to a long gone bridge. Olivia could do nothing but gape at the city. It's tallest spire reached half as high as the Empire State building, the walls matched the height of Yankee Stadium. Only a small portion, one building near the center, was in pristine condition. Power hummed in that building, power that reached out to her with primal and untamed potential.

"That will be our city." Char'al said. "In a few tendays time we will have a small group of svirfneblin, and perhaps one or two duergar, they will provide the skills needed to clear and repair the stone. From your world will come a small army of workers, the lower ones in your society. Addicts, gang members, you know the type well."

"You want to dig that out?" Olivia asked, pointing at the ruined city.

"Of course. It was a place of the Deep Imaskari, the secrets and powers it contains will be a fine treasure. The city itself will be a stronghold from which to build our strength. It is possible that even some of your people will be useful as soldier-slaves. There will be at least a hundred at first, you and Drog are to prepare a place to hold them." The Drow pointed to the left of the city and Olivia saw the opening to a cave.

"I will teach you how to alter their eyes, and teach them enough to do the work. They will be your responsibility to train and keep in order."

"My god you want me to be an overseer!" Olivia shouted.

The spark of rage that the word ignited in Olivia's soul flamed to a white hot spike of fury. The drow was asking her to go back on her oath as a police officer, on everything she had ever thought to be right and true. For an instant Olivia's entire being fused into defiance. The impulse to spit in Char'al's face, despite the punishment that Olivia knew would come, grew within her.

But that impulse, the entirety of her anger and determination was caught, filtered. The metal on her forehead burned with a cold malice. It's energy reached into her, not into her soul, but into Olivia's mind. Her thoughts, fully formed and with the energy of her soul streaked through her head, were caught, tainted, distorted and then released. So instead of spitting Olivia found her knees bending beneath her. That same energy that would have driven a defiant denial from her lips was instead used to earnestly say: "It shall be as you command milord."

Olivia trembled in shock and reached up to touch the metal on her forehead. As her fingers traced the exquisitely carved shape of a spider Olivia realized that because of the magic she would throw as much energy into carrying out the drow's commands as she would have done trying to defy them.

The distance between the SVU squad room and the holding cells of the New York City jail was less than four blocks. A phone call would have been quicker, but the lines were out. Detective John Munch decided that by the time Stabler, Tutuolo and himself had gone half that distance Batgirl was already there. She had leaped through the window of the squad room with a line already ready, thrown it 30 feet across the street where it anchored to the base of a TV dish and used it to swing down the street.

What bothered Jon Munch most of all about the sequence was that it wasn't possible. Even though he had seen it, he knew it wasn't possible. Batgirl had the natural grace of an athlete, and he didn't doubt she was in tremendous physical shape, but she was one of the non-powered capes, how the hell did she manage to do that with only a slight build? To even throw a line that far she would have needed muscles like a professional weightlifter.

As the three detectives rounded the corner to the street that led to the holding cells Detective Munch put the puzzle away. Other problems, such as survival, faced him. The street looked like a war-zone. Batgirl was moving fast, avoiding shimmering conical beams of death that originated from a plain looking girl standing in the center of the street. Georgia Sylvana was dressed in orange prison coveralls, but even from a distance Jon knew she could never look good in anything. There was something off about her whole body; an ugliness that would have stood out no matter what she wore. Her hair was brown, but dull brown, her eyes grey and not quite centered in her head, over a nose that seemed to twist slightly the wrong way and a chin that could have been used as a pointer.

Batgirl jumped over a car just as it was hit by the beam and shattered into million exploding pieces. She was lost in the smoke but by then Georgia had spotted the three of them. She aimed something at them, but they fired first.

Jon Munch was a good shot and at half a block's range there was no way he could miss. But the bullets sparked against some barrier around Georgia and her smile was just as ugly as the rest of her. The three detectives sought cover as the rippling beams shattered the air and the pavement where they had been standing a moment before.

"Are we having fun yet?" Batgirl asked landing beside them.

"What the hell has she got?" Stabler shouted.

"A sonic disrupter." Batgirl said.

"Where'd she get that?"

"She's a Sylvana!" Batgirl shouted. "I'm just surprised she waited this long!"

Batgirl made a quick movement with her wrist and suddenly she was holding a handful of grey marbles. She tossed them at Georgia and the hit the same barrier that the bullets had hit, but as they exploded thick black smoke surrounded the fugitive.

"Spread out and circle her." Batgirl ordered. "I called for help but we need to keep her busy."

"That'll be easy." Tutuolo snarled as Batgirl leaped off.

With a quick nod to each other the detectives split up. Stabler moved back, Jon to the right and Tutuolo to the left.

Where did she get the weapons and where was the SWAT team, Munch wondered as the smoke cleared from the air? They were in the middle of the city, nearly the holding cells, there should have been police swarming over the street. But there wasn't. Georgia aimed her beam at Stabler only to be distracted as a bat-a-wrang hit the shield behind her. Even as she was spinning around Munch fired three shots and was moving himself as the deadly beam was aimed his way.

Georgia moved forward, heading toward a subway stop at the end of the block. The detectives and Batgirl slowed her down, but more by attrition than anything else it looked like she would make it. Then a red blur entered the street. Jon Munch barely had time to register that something was happening and then it was over. Georgia was bound and gagged to a lamppost with a set of Bungee cords from one of the cars she had wrecked. Her weapons lay at her feet. Munch got a glimpse of that red blur as it sped by Stabler and streaked off into the distance. Elliot was left holding a photograph and Munch noticed that his fellow detective hand's were shaking.

Jon Munch lowered his gun and tried not to let anyone see that his hands were shaking too. Batgirl and Stabler reached Georgia first and replaced the Bungee cords with handcuffs. Georgia snarled and cursed as Stabler pulled her away. Munch bent down and picked up her weapons. Two walkmen had been duct-taped together and a third hummed with power.

"There is no way in hell she was able to do this." Munch said later. They were standing outside an interrogation room. In his hand was a report on the walkmen. It was a copy of the report and much of it was blacked out. Two people with dark suits and sunglasses had done the report in record time. Munch guessed they were military, or at least Company men, but he was too busy filling out an action report to ask them any questions. Not that he ever expected answers, but it was fun to see them stone up when he asked. At least the action report was all he had needed to fill out. New York police officers that discharged their guns usually had to go through a civilian review board, but not when supervillains were involved.

"She did it." Tutuolo said.

"I've got a friend who teaches physics." Jon protested. "There is no way four triple A batteries can produce enough power for a weapon like that, no way. And that's not counting the forcefield."

"The Sylvana's are brilliant." Batgirl said. "They always have been. I bet if you took that walkman apart you'll find that she didn't use the batteries directly, more likely she used them to tap into a subspace power broadcast and direct that energy through the speakers."

"That's two impossible things." Jon said.

"It's a good thing you haven't eaten breakfast yet." Batgirl said.

"Yea, that means I have four more impossibilities to get through." Jon looked through the one way glass at Georgia. "Think she'll vanish and leave us nothing but an ugly smile?"

"The Sylvana's are brilliant, but that's as far as it goes." Batgirl said. "I gave her a thorough search and didn't find any hidden gadgets. I think we're safe as long as we don't let her touch anything electronic."

"She don't need gadgets anyway." Tutuolo sneered. "She's got a lawyer."

Batgirl turned to look at the glass. A tall thin man with a prominent nose, bad suit and stark white hair stood beside Georgia. Steve Crumed held a look of contempt on his face that was not limited to Stabler. It was for the universe in general.

"He's not getting anywhere." Batgirl said. The speaker was off but from the smug look on Georgia's face and the snake-like visage on her lawyer Munch guessed that she was right.

"She's looking at a lot of prison time." Tutuolo said. "But I guess that doesn't bother her."

"It never does." Batgirl said. "Supervillains walk out of prisons far too often."

"Nothing." Elliot said coming out of the room. "She's knows something, but she ain't gonna talk. Not even with a deal."

"You don't scare her." Batgirl said calmly looking at the glass.

"Godzilla wouldn't scare her." Tutuolo said.

"She's our only link." Batgirl said heading toward the door to the interrogation room. "I know what'll scare her."

The three detectives looked at each other, and then Munch switched on the intercom that allowed them to hear what was being said.

"You look ridiculous in that costume." Georgia said as Batgirl walked into the room. "But I bet it gives you a charge between the legs when the cops look at you. Maybe I should have dressed up as Supergirl when you searched me. I heard you two were tight."

"Bit of a comedown for a Sylvana." Batgirl said, ignoring the insult. "Your father tries to take over the city... you turn to prostitution. But I guess that's the only way for you isn't it."

Georgia's face grew red and the lawyer put a hand on her shoulder. She settled back.

"You know what we want to know." Batgirl said, leaning over the table. Her posture changed and even through the glass Munch felt the atmosphere in the room grow a bit darker. It was intimidation, the type he had seen other cops use, but they had been men. Towering brutes for the most part. Batgirl was barely taller than Georgia and certainly not much older than the other girl.

"Tell me." Batgirl commanded.

"Or what?" Georgia said. Her voice was quietly defiant, but she leaned a little further back in her chair. "You think prison is going to hold me?"

"I think the Phantom Zone will." Batgirl said. "It'll hold you for all time."

Georgia paled and even her lawyer seemed to be a bit frightened. Batgirl stood as still as stone and the room seemed to get a little darker. Munch, Stabler and Tutoulo glanced at each other. The Phantom Zone was an alien dimension. It was a timeless, formless void; a limbo that legend said had no exit.

"She won't go to the Zone." The lawyer said. "That comes under the heading of cruel and un-usual punishment."

"That didn't stop Superman when he sent Mr. Triaska to the Phantom Zone." Batgirl said calmly. "All it took was a national security directive."

"Mr. Triaska had powers that matched Superman's." the Lawyer said. "He was sentenced to life and no prison could hold him."

"Didn't Georgia just say the same thing?" Batgirl asked.

"You're bluffing." Georgia said.

"Black Canary is missing." Batgirl said and her voiced turned hard and cold as the list of names grew. "Wonder Woman is missing. Supergirl is missing. Mary Marvel is Missing. Superman will be back on Earth this Saturday. He's pushed an asteroid that would have flattened Texas into a safe orbit so it can be mined. Do you really think the President will turn him down? Do you really think with his cousin missing, his only living relative from Krypton in danger, that he's not going to be in a mood to push things a bit?"

Georgia was wilting under the pressure of Batgirl's voice and the masked crimefighter went on.

"Black Canary's best friend is the Huntress." Batgirl said. "If you go to prison she'll get to you, Wonder Girl is Wonder Woman's kid sister, she'll drag you back to that island of hers, and do you really think that the Amazon's won't have ways of making you talk?"

Georgia looked up at her lawyer who had taken a step back from her.

"Don't look at him." Batgirl snapped. "Look at me. Your father and brother are imprisoned in a suspendium field that won't break down for another ten years. You've got no one Georgia, and your friend there only covers you as far as the law allows." Batgirl smiled. "The people who will come after you aren't cops."

"The police have an obligation to protect my client."

"And I'm sure they'll try real hard when Superman walks through the front door of the precinct." Batgirl replied. She looked at Georgia again.

"And once the people who took my friends realize that you won't be able to keep their secrets, what will they do Georgia? Still want to go to prison? Still think you'll be safe?"

The building had been built in a slum. It had aged as it had become a ghetto, had a brief moment of glory during the 1980's when every old building that wasn't falling down on its own was considered historical, and then had fallen into despair as the economy of the early 1990's destroyed the historical society. It was seated at the corner of a block, a dark three-story structure that in its time had been a gambling house, opium den, and brothel and drug factory. Now it was empty, boarded up and forgotten.

But, like ants circling a wounded slug waiting for the right time to strike, police surrounded the place. Quietly plain-clothes detectives moved the innocent, or at least those who were not directly involved from the area. Blocks away a SWAT team stood ready.

"We'll go in first." Batman said.

Batman, Batgirl, Stabler, Munch and Tutuolo stood beside the SWAT teams van. Inside Captain Cragen co-ordinated the work of the other officers. It was cold, tense night. The only light was from the endless New York streetlights and storefronts. Stabler looked like he was going to object, but Munch put his hand on his colleague's arm.

"Georgia doesn't really know what she's involved in." Batgirl said. "She didn't care as long as Mary Marvel was taken."

"So what are we facing?" Stabler demanded.

"They are called: "The Drow" Batman said. "Dark elves, not from this dimension. We've identified most of their network, they started in Cuba, worked their way out from there."

"What do they want?" Tutuolo asked.

"People." Batgirl said.

"Slaves." Batman corrected her. "They started out with political prisoners from Cuba, then refugees from Africa; now they want addicts and gangs from the US."

"They must have known we'd notice." Munch said. "Why not stick with the other countries."

"I don't know." Batman said.

"All the civilians are out of the area." Captain Cragen said stepping out of the van.

There was a slight hum behind them and the officers turned to see a large ammo box appear out of thin air.

"Tell your men to use the ammunition in that box." Batman said.

"What are they silver bullets?" Eliot asked.

"Yes they are." Batgirl said.

"We'll signal you." Batman ordered.

With quick and smooth movements both Batman and Batgirl slipped into the darkness.

The thrill of action bubbled through Batgirl's veins as she moved from shadow to shadow on the street. Batman paralleled her above, no more than a whisper on the wind. But while Batgirl felt only the exhilaration of action and danger Barbara Gordon felt something different. This was one of the cases that somehow managed to split Barbara from the costumed heroine she became when the mask covered her face. One of the cases that she knew would never find its way into the public eye.

In the public's view, a view shared even by the detectives they were working with, superheroes were all but invulnerable. They never lost, at least in any meaningful way. She could tell from the way he looked and acted that Elliot Stabler resented the fact that "capes" were involved in one of his cases. He saw only the costumes, the gadgets and the secrecy. He didn't truly understand the reasons for it all.

She moved toward the side of the building, toward that alley that separated it from its neighbor. As she moved Barbara did her best to merge herself with Batgirl. To become what almost all of her foes thought she was: superhuman; but Barbara knew she wasn't. Remove the costume from Supergirl and she could still lift cars. Take away the costume from Batgirl and she was Barbara Gordon. The edge, the advantage that the image and reputation of Batgirl gave Barbara Gordon was her greatest weapon. And against most criminals, even most supervillains, that was enough. But there had been some that had seen through the costume and the image. Some that had beaten her, stripped her, raped and enslaved her. A few of those had been supervillains, fewer still had been ordinary criminals that had gotten lucky. Either way the villain that could see past the mask was the villain that gave Barbara Gordon nightmares.

The drow could be one of those. That was what split Barbara Gordon from Batgirl. Barbara knew that devoid of the carefully nurtured image of Batgirl she was without a bit of her edge, horribly vulnerable. What was left was an extremely talented, superbly trained fighter, but non-the-less a human being. The drow had beaten Supergirl, Wonder Woman, each a woman of incredible power.

The split ended as Batgirl applied a lock pick to an ancient padlock. Barbara/Batgirl had known it would, just as she had known there was no real possibility of her turning back. Her friends were in trouble; that was all she needed to know. It would have driven her actions before she first put on the mask, with the mask Barbara just felt more capable of helping them.

The corridor that led from the back of the building to the front had once had carpeting and plush Victorian wallpaper. Batgirl shined her light around carefully before moving from the doorway. The carpeting was worn away in the center, the wallpaper peeling off of the walls like dead skin. The place smelled like every source of bodily debris from both human and animal had been left to rot wherever it had fallen. Various colors of mold somehow gave the corridor a grotesquely decorated feel. Batgirl moved quietly and carefully, looking for guards, traps, hearing for any noise that could be hints of danger or peril. There were five rooms on the ground floor. All of them were either empty or showed traces of being inhabited by street people. Dirty blankets, torn sleeping bags and magazines, candles and drug pipes were everywhere. But no people live or dead were there. Nor were there any rats. Nothing alive.

Batman was waiting for her at the stairs when Batgirl came out of the last room. He nodded and she followed him toward the last of the doors. This one led to the basement. Batman's light revealed the door to be like all the others. Wood, covered with graffiti and dirt. But a single spider sat above the doorknob. Black as night and as large as a small dog it was larger than any spider Batgirl had ever seen. It tensed as the flashlight beam hit it. Even as Batgirl was reaching for a batawrang the spider leaped at them with impossible speed.

But Batman matched the spider's speed. His arm shot out with a batawrang already waiting and speared the spider to the wall. Putrid green blood mixed with all the other filth as the thing silently died.

The floor of the basement lay thirteen steps from the doorway. Batgirl thought that was a very appropriate number. Thirteen steps to hell seemed right. The floor was covered in blood, blood from the bodies of people. Twenty-one of them lay like spokes on a wheel around an altar. Each throat had been slashed. In the center of the wheel the black stone altar shaped like a spider. The blood flowed toward it. On the altar was a young woman with soft brown hair and eyes. Mary. Chains held her down and allowed a mass of spiders to crawl all over her body. Her face was untouched, but her eyes were lifeless glass. There were spiders of every type Batgirl had ever seen and they moved with a chaotic frenzy that pulsed with evil.

A tall nude woman with no hair and a body covered with tatoos stood by the altar and chanted. She looked up as the two crimefighters appeared and her mouth opened to reveal row after row of dagger-sharp teeth. In the torchlight her eyes were twin pools of blackness that threatened to draw Batgirl in and trap her.

Batman moved first, the batawrang leaving his hand as he vaulted over the railing. The weapon struck the woman in the forehead, but it didn't seem to do any damage. Instead she gestured and eldrich energy cascaded from her body to the dead that lay around her. As the energy touched their bodies the dead moved. Lifeless eyes and faces did not stir, no sign of a soul appeared in any of them. But they moved. They grabbed Batman's arms and legs and sought to pull him down.

By that time Batgirl was on the floor was well, sprinting for the altar. A corpse captured her ankle in a death grip and another snagged her cape. Even as she turned to deal with them the woman at the altar turned back to her spell.

Terror, revulsion and a grim determination filled Batgirl as she fought. There was no mercy in the blows she dealt the corpses. Here she snapped a man's wrist; there she crushed a nose and thrust her fingers into the eyes of a skull so that she could throw the body aside. But while the corpses could not feel pain they could strike back. Their strength was greater than hers would ever be. The vise like grip on her ankle numbed her foot, causing her to loose her balance and fall. More dead hands reached for her and took hold with the same evil passion. By using her skill and strength to their fullest Batgirl kept her arms and her upper body free at first. The dead men and women crowded around her but she swept them off of their feet and worked to wrench her legs free from the grips of the others. She managed to pull herself away from them for a few moments, but Batgirl could not get to her feet. The legs of her costume were shredded and blood flowed from scratches and bites. More of the animated wretches came for her and Batgirl ignored the pain. Levering her self up so that her arms supported her body Batgirl swung her legs around knocking the dead off of their feet again. Then she followed through with the move and rolled away. The move bought her a few seconds and she used them. Reaching into her belt Batgirl grabbed a shotgun line. It was a small unit that fit into her hand. She aimed and fired. A thin line streaked out and a hook sank into the ceiling. At a touch on the unit the line reeled in and Batgirl was lifted up and almost out of the reach of the dead. But not completely. Again, and it may have been the same corpse as before, her ankle was grabbed. She hissed in pain as the deadweight held her and pulled. Other hands soon joined it and Batgirl felt her grip on the shotgun line starting to loosen. She kicked out with her free leg but wasn't able to do much damage. A quick look around told her that Batman was closer to the altar, but having the same problem. The woman was still chanting the spell and the spiders on the young woman on the altar were starting to glow with power.

Through the young heroines mind ran a dozen strategies and one was quickly chosen. She reached into her belt and pulled out her second shotgun line. Twisting wildly and ignoring the stabbing pain from her ankle Batgirl fired the shotgun line. It sailed across the room and stuck into the thigh of the chanting woman.

Her chanting turned to a scream of pain and Batgirl helped that along by pushing the button that reeled in the line. Hauled off of her feet the woman fell into the pile of corpses that had surrounded Batman. He didn't hesitate but silenced her screams with a blow to the throat and then knocked her out with a savage blow to the jaw.

She went down and the corpses joined her. The spiders on Mary vanished into foul smelling smoke. In her mind Batgirl could hear a woman's voice, no, not a woman for no human woman ever made such a sound, but it was a feminine voice and it screamed in rage like a huntress denied it's prey or a queen denied her meal. The voice shook Batgirl's sanity for a moment. But only for a moment.

Mary lay on the stretcher while the EMT's worked on her. It was only after the spiders had vanished that the true damage to her body had been revealed. Great strips of flesh had been eaten away by some sort of black mold. The mold glistened in the dim light and covered half of her body. It covered her breasts, between her legs, her throat and most of her legs. Batgirl held her hands while the medics tried what they could to clean her. Nothing was working. The best they could do was cover her with a sheet and wait for special instructions from the hospital.

"We've got an ID on some of the bodies." Munch said coming up behind her. Jon Munch's hands had stopped shaking, but the scene when he and the rest of the detectives had entered the basement would stay with him. Not as the blur that a thousand other horrific crime scenes stayed with him, but as the clear-as-a-picture snapshot of hell that only a few were rewarded with. The fact that Batgirl's legs were covered in blood had shocked him too. She had covered Mary's nude body with her cape and the lack of it made him even more aware of how slightly built Batgirl was. That she charged into such places, that she had to, appalled him.

"Who were they?" Batgirl asked.

"A subway train vanished last month." Munch said. "An entire train out of the rush hour."

"What about the woman?"

"She's a vampire." Munch said. "She isn't talking."

A choked gurgling sound came from Mary and suddenly there was awareness in her eyes. Munch had seen that look of shock and horror before but beyond it there was something else. He wasn't sure what it was.

Mary tried to sit up and talk, but only a choked whisper came out with no words being recognizable.

"Don't try to talk Mary." Batgirl said.

The young woman would not quit and managed to sit up a bit.

"Give her your notebook." Batman said appearing at Munch's side.

The night had been too full of horrors for Jon to even be startled. He handed Mary his notebook and pen. Elliot came over to them as she scribbled furiously on it for a few moments before falling back onto the stretcher.

"More pain." Batgirl read. "Heard them talking. Portal 177 Forntner street. Tonight."

"That's a church." Elliot said.

"Full of people." Batman confirmed. "And probably well guarded."

"Well we still have the silver bullets." Munch said, putting his notebook back into his pocket. Mary had swooned into what he hoped was an oblivious sleep.

"With luck you won't need them." a new voice said.

Jon Munch had studied history. He had listened to old recordings of past presidents and leaders. One of his favorites had been the voice of Dwight Eisenhower. The voice he heard reminded him of that voice. He was impressed even before he turned and saw whom it was.

The man was big. Not just tall, though he was that as well, but large. More than human. The red and blue suit and the large letter "S" on his chest would have made anyone else look silly. Not Superman, no more than Batman or Batgirl's suit reduce them to ridicule. His black hair and blue eyes, the incredibly handsome face and the way he stood there overwhelmed them all for a moment. Even Elliot couldn't find his voice.

"I'd rather not need them and have them." Batman said. "But we need to move fast."

"Green Lantern and Wonder Girl will meet us there." Superman said. "I'll go ahead and scout."

"Be careful." Batman said.

Superman nodded and rose into the air. In seconds he was out of sight.

"HE needs to be careful?" Elliot asked.

"We all need to be careful." Batman said turning to Batgirl.

Munch couldn't tell if he was talking about superheroes or people in general.

"You stay with Mary." Batman said. "She might wake up again. Get your legs checked out."

"I just heard from Superman." Captain Cragen said walking over to them. Jon suspected that only his years on the force kept the Captain's voice in the same matter-of-fact tone he always used. "Elliot you and I will take the SWAT team to the church, Tutuolo is going to stay here and go over the place with CSI, Munch you go with the victim."

Even as he stopped talking a tremendous explosion rocked the air. They all looked to the sky and Detective Jon Munch suddenly realized that as bad as things were, they could get worse. In the light from New York's endless apartments and office buildings he saw Superman, Green Lantern and Hawkman fighting what looked like a cross between a dog and a bat. The fight was moving away from them and in a few seconds could barely be seen. Even so Munch pulled out his gun and was profoundly grateful for the clip of silver bullets.

To be continued...