A word for the Compleat Newcomer from the Former Compleat Kim Possible Ignoramus. Captainkodak 1 wrote a story a couple years ago. A Box Of CuddleBuddies, based on Edgar Allen Poe's A Cask Of Amontillado. Tara sealed up Kim Possible to prevent her from breaking Ron Stoppable's heart by breaking up with him.

Daccu65 followed it up with Family Legacy and Legacy Resolved. Kim became a vengeful Undead. After a twenty year imprisonment, she broke out and almost murdered Tara. With Yori's help, Tara eventually freed Kim from her curse and sent her to her well-deserved rest. I started A Heroine's Legacy, about the efforts of Tara and Ron's grandson to persuade Kim to turn from her hatred. Alice Shade contributed to the genre by writing Beyond The Grave, about Kim's efforts to dig herself out. And then I cooked up A Barrier That Restrains, inspired by Alice Shade's tale. Daccu65 got back in the fray with The Face Of Evil, a Kim Possible / Supernatural X-over.

Completely confused? Me, too. Another tale has been frothing in my head. Why do I gravitate toward these tales? It's a good question.

To both my usual readers and newcomers; this is a zillion miles outside the unusual parameters of the 'shippy Kim / Ron story. It is bizarre and gruesome. If you're easily upset, I urge you to pass it up. And that's as strong a story advisory as I've ever given.

This was inspired by daccu65's story and Alice Shade's story.

A BIG HAND FOR THE LTTLE LADY

Ron's first visit to talk with Kim Possible was Halloween of 2031, a year after her unsuccessful escape. She was actually shocked he had come. In point of fact, she was profoundly moved…but not enough to be penitent. She had already discovered the small hole at the bottom of the cistern. She racked her brain how to make use of it.

She made an experiment. Remembering how Ron had dismembered her with the Lotus Blade, and all her bodily parts had reformed, she actually snapped off the little finger of her left hand. It hurt dreadfully…but so did everything. She felt the hunger and thirst and exhaustion of every day of her captivity, contrary to her being clinically deceased. She was incapable of sleep. How had she slept before her escape, when she had supposed it was only a few days in the cistern? She had no idea.

But she was brimming with ideas now, and this was one of them. The detached finger wriggled in the palm of her left hand. She brought it near her left hand. With a sound like cracking knuckles and crinkling paper, the bone, muscles, and mummified skin reformed, and the finger was part of the hand.

It was very interesting. It was the kind of thing that would've fascinated Wade Load. Hell, it would've fascinated a young Ron Stoppable. He was always speculating on stupid bizarre stuff. "Hey, K.P.," he would say, "D'ya think zombies have working nervous systems? Like they can feel pain?"

"Ron…ew! Why would you even want to know?"

"Well…just in case…y'know…we have to fight one someday…on a mission."

Ron hated irony. And irony of ironies…it had come to pass. He had fought a zombie…herself. Well, not a zombie…she didn't know what she was. That was another thing that ceaselessly absorbed her interest; what was she? She wasn't that well informed about occult topics. And it was a shame she had no access to research, because she all the time in the world to study.

But Kim now had the answer to one question. Her undead nervous system still worked. Her hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and ghastly pain when Ron had cut her to pieces demonstrated that.

Pain…there was the emotional pain…the pain of supreme betrayal. Tara had accused her of eventual romantic unfaithfulness with Ron. She would ultimately break up with him, the fukking lying little bitch had accused. At least that was Tara's rationale for enclosing Kim in this eternal lockup.

Kim nearly sobbed aloud. Her last words to Ron after he had shut her back up was that she still loved him. He didn't hear them. The cistern lid was shut by that time. Not that it mattered. She would never love again. She would hate…and blaspheme…and revile…but she would never hope…or trust…or love again. That's what got her here.

But enough of that sentimental shit. Kim was Undead….maybe forever. May as well get her head in that game. If that were all it was, she might enlist Ron's help in fixing this sitch. But the shit-grinning butt-kissing oh-poor-defenseless-little-me Sweet Miss Innocent was still alive…her and her brood of bastards. And if Kim was going to have any sense of closure, they had to die. Not like she had died…screaming her lungs out in horror in the dark. Just a quick snap of the neck for the kids…or a smothering hand over the mouth.

But Tara…oh, Kim had plans for Tara. Tara would get the whole Pit-And-The-Pendulum-Premature-Burial-Night-On-Bald-Mountain-Dante's-Inferno-The-Exorcist-Night-Of-The-Living-Dead-Salem-Witch-Project treatment. That would be Kim's last mission. That was all she had left to live for…oh, right…so the irony. She wasn't really alive. But she was sure as hell in the game.

Point number one. She was dead. But she still walked and talked. Point number two. If she was cut up, the pieces would rejoin. Point number three. The autonomic nerves still seemed to work.

Mom the neurosurgeon would've definitely found that interesting…in a horridly fascinating sort of way.

For a moment, a sense of compassionate warmth intruded into Kim's thoughts.

Mom…Mommy. Daddy. I miss you. God, I can't tell you how I miss you. Tweebs…Joss…you're all grown up now. Did you guys get married? Do you have kids? Do you tell them about me? Is the fam still doing missions? Uncle Slim. Nana. Are you still alive?

But tender warmth was smothered by the remembrance of that awful glimpse of her own face…a shrunken skull of a face. With horrid staring eyes and gruesome protruding teeth. With sunken cheeks and stringy slimy hair. If they saw her, they would act like Ron acted when he saw her. He beat her like a person beats a rabid dog.

"Ron! It's me! Kim! Don't you know me? Don't you recognize me?"

"You monster! Get away! Leave my family alone!"

Yeah. That was how her Beloved reacted. That was how the rest of her family would react. Mom would faint. Dad and the Tweebs would run and dig up some high tech ray gun thingy to blast her with.

Kim shook the tender thoughts out of her head like a dog shakes water off itself. Tender thoughts would drive her insane. She cackled madly. What the hell…she was already insane. May as well embrace the reality. How was one supposed to cope with becoming a monstrous ghoul and keep their sanity? Between the surrealism and her decayed brain cells, she was lucky to hold a coherent thought in her head. No…the hatred gave her focus. Structure. Purpose. They would pay. All of them. With every last drop of precious bodily fluid. With every last scream. Just like she had. Beginning with Tara and her kids.

Kim now understood Monkey Fist. And Frugal Lucre. And DNAmy. And Warmonga. Payback was the sitch.

…But Kim digressed. Autonomic nerves…functional. What about motor coordination nerves? Gritting her teeth, this time she broke off her left index finger. God! That hurt like a bitch! Holding the finger between her right thumb and forefinger, she willed it to bend…like one would crook a finger to beckon a favor from someone.

The finger moved! The finger bent!

Kim gagged. This was repulsive. Her little bits and pieces wiggling like worms. A part of her old human outlook still endured. Still…she was jubilant. Well, shit me! This is spankin'! I've got mad mutant abilities! I'm a fukkin' supervillain!

What to do with this marvelous attribute…that was the next item on the agenda.

to be continued

When will your Glacially Slow author update? Good question. Hey…it's me, after all.