Rook

Alex Gestalt eyed Myfanwy with utter loathing.
    “Of course, Eliza might not appreciate some of the comments you made about her postpartum depression, but you might like to congratulate the parents of my child,” he said with an amused look. “I shall leave now, but Gestalt has expressed a desire to watch as Norman does his work. Good evening,” he said, getting up. Myfanwy could hear his steps as he walked through the room, opened up a portrait, and climbed the stairs hidden behind it.
    “So, bitch Thomas,” said the Gestalt siblings in unison. “I can’t tell you how pleasant it is to see you pinioned this time. I shall definitely enjoy this after a week of having to hide in Grantchester’s residence.”
    “Do you know what it’s been like?” the Gestalt sister demanded. “Afraid to go into my other bodies in case the Gallows torturers are mutilating them? In case I open my eyes just at the moment that they put them out?” She leaned forward across the desk and punched Myfanwy awkwardly in the side of the head.
    “This is going to be
so
satisfying,” the brother said.
    Myfanwy didn’t say anything, not even to lie to them about what had happened to the other bodies. In point of fact, nothing had yet been done to Teddy and Robert. Currently, they were restrained, with blindfolds, in soundproof rooms. Alrich and some of the scientists and torturers were attempting to work out an approach that would let them take advantage of Gestalt’s hive mind and torture all four of the bodies simultaneously. Myfanwy had smiled weakly at their enthusiastic ideas and resolved not to have anything to do with it. Now she was rather wishing she’d chipped in.
    Norman kept his hand in contact with Myfanwy as he turned her chair toward him and then drew her up to her feet. His eyes stared into hers, and she flinched away. Her skin was numb where he touched it, and he pulled her closer. The cold spread down to the tops of her arms as he grasped them within her clothes so that she could not struggle. If she were to kick, it would only be a blow on the shins, like a child throwing a tantrum. Myfanwy resisted the urge to scream as he opened his mouth and leaned over her. His breath wafted into her face, and she wrinkled her nose at its chemical odor. He smelled just like the Grafter in the club.
    Norman’s tongue, a pallid purple, suddenly bristled with long white fibers. The hairlike tendrils pressed against her lips like a half-remembered nightmare. His lips grated against her own as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. She gagged as it scraped down her throat.
    Myfanwy’s eyes rolled around, adding images to her memory that she knew would soon be dissolved. To one side stood the girl, watching them impassively. Behind her were the simultaneous breaths of Gestalt. Her attacker’s scaly cheeks lightly grazed her own as he greedily probed her mind.
    It’s coming,
she thought.
The end of me
. Her mind hyperfocused, and every detail gained significance. The warmth of her shoes, the coarse chafing of the ankle holster, the smoothness of her coveralls, and the comfortable warmth of her coat. Her fingers caressed the softness of her clothes.
It’s all going to be gone,
she thought, and then she felt something under her hands.
    She dug her right hand into her coat pocket and came out clutching something.
Do it!
she thought desperately.
Fight! It’s worth a try!
She could feel the boy drawing himself back, getting ready to smash forward with all the force of his vile powers. Frantically, she shifted her hand to get a better grip on the object. Norman felt her movement and hesitated. She clenched her fist and, staring into her attacker’s eyes, stabbed his thigh with the epi-pen that Thomas had put in the pocket of every coat she owned in case she was stung by a bee.
    There was a click.
    A spring-loaded needle glided through the membrane in the tip of the epi-pen, piercing the cloth of Norman’s trousers. The needle slid through his skin and delivered 0.3 milligrams of epinephrine into his system.
    The medication roared into Norman’s bloodstream, binding itself to receptors in his body. Myfanwy watched as his pupils dilated. She could hear his heart rate increase. Chemicals shifted, and the man-made additions to his body screamed. His grip on her powers loosened, then failed entirely. She reached out with her mind and punctured the shields around his consciousness. They both stood, unmoving, joined in a horrible kiss,