This story takes place in the Victims of the Grim universe. You don't have to read Victims to understand this story, but it explains all the dark underground stuff that may confuse you. It's also kind of a spoiler...

I actually had this idea bouncing around in my head about a year after I started Victims (I guess July is my inspiration month), but I had no motivation until we had a creative writing assignment in Literature class. Let's just say I could've done better. After all, we were supposed to write a detective story and I kinda didn't...

Kitten's Flower
By Nodjmet

Why do you do this?

Because they lied to me. Those who called themselves family. They all said they loved me: Grandpa, Mama, and brother. They said that's who they were.

Who were they?

Great grandfather, grandma, uncle.

What did they really feel?




Because I killed her.

Devona thrust her arm forward, releasing the ninja stars with deadly accuracy at her opponent. The woman dodged the attack effortlessly and sprinted towards her, surprisingly quickly for high heels. Cursing, the younger girl switched to a defense position and waited for an attack. Her opponent didn't disappoint as she rammed her leg against a weak arm block, which caused her to duck and attempt to grab at the leg, failing miserably. As she straightened, the woman switched legs and knocked her against the cold metal wall with a backwards roundhouse kick.

Slumped against the unforgiving chamber with the wind knocked out of her, Devona felt her will to fight seeping away from her. She'd heard of this agent. In her younger days, Jaguar had been a cunning thief, invaluable spy, and ruthless killer. With her attractive body and deadly accuracy, she eliminated targets without any trace of her presence left behind. Most impressive of all was her weapon, which which she wore at the very moment; a pair of black boots with metal heels that could be morphed into any dagger, knife, or key. Now, in her old age, she was merely a trainer used to do away with the weaklings of the organization. Nobody had ever beaten her.

The twelve-year-old girl braced herself as she heard the scraping of shifting metal. She wouldn't dodge. She wouldn't fight. She'd be obedient and welcome death like she had been taught.

"What is your name?"


"Real name."

She hid her surprise and confusion. Nobody was supposed to give his or her real name in this place. Most people forgot after a few years. "Is this some sort of test?" she challenged, afraid to lift her face.

"No test. Just you and me and our thoughts. You may look up. I won't kill you."

"No tricks?"

"None. I'm not that clever. What do you have to lose? You're not even really living anymore."

Deciding that this was true, Devona shifted so that she sat cross-legged in front of Jaguar, who sat likewise. "Devona," she finally answered. "My real name's Devona."

"That's a weird name." Suddenly, Jaguar seemed much younger than her rumored twenty-three years. "I'm Machiko." She extended a small hand, even smaller than Devona's, with the two ninja stars in them. "Here, you shouldn't use them all at once."

Hesitantly, Devona reclaimed her weapons. Once her fingers made contact with the metal, she lunged forward and cut into Jaguar's neck. Blood poured from the wound immediately, flowing over weapon, flesh, and clothing.

"I knew you would do that," Jaguar murmured almost sadly, slumping forward to lean slightly on her killer's shoulder. "I guess I have to cut my speech short."

Confused, Devona extracted the blade from her prey's flesh roughly, allowing more blood to leave her body.

"For one," Jaguar's breathing started to become labored, "you should cut more deeply. If you'd done it correctly, I wouldn't be talking." She smiled, even as some blood spilled from the side of her mouth. Devona could feel the thick liquid on her legs, which were now in the kneeling position. "Second, I like your style. You don't miss any opportunities. You deserve to take my place in the elite, as Siamese." Devona flinched at that hated name. "Third…" Jaguar's body became more limp and slid down, staining Devona's shirt with blood, "if you ever see a little girl, she must be five now, that looks like me…" the woman strained to look up, though her eyes were unfocused, "watch over her. Help her survive. And when she's older, tell her that she's Jasmine. I always liked that name." Her breaths came in little puffs as she struggled to stay alive for just a little longer. "You're a good girl, Devona. Make sure mine is too."

Disgusted, Devona shoved the dead body off of her onto the floor. The walls parted to allow her out of the death chamber then, guiltily; she looked back at the mass of dark hair, clothes, and stained skin. "I will," she whispered. "I'll be Siamese so your baby can be Jasmine." She stepped out of the room and the wall slid shut once again.

"You're going out again?" Lion questioned as Siamese rose from the pile of stolen cushions that made up their couch.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Come on," Cheetah whined, draping herself over the edge of a chair. "We just got a newly released movie and you want to go and find out the past about some dead old lady? Her files are probably gone by now and her kid's probably dead. You know that the specially bred agents usually don't survive."

Siamese hesitated as how true Cheetah's words were struck her. "I know," she admitted, "but she was one of us. She was taken from her family like us, but once she'd served her first purpose as an agent, and second purpose as a breeder and trainer, she was separated from her baby. She got everything taken away twice."

The others glanced at each other sideways. It figured that Siamese would be the only one left with any empathy at all.

"I just felt sorry for her."

Thick silence closed in on the common room before a gruff voice belonging to a heavy bodied female grunted, "Do what you like."


The girl shrugged. "If you're caught, you're on your own. Cats are independent creatures."

"Something you learned before you were taken?" Siamese smiled sadly.

Lynx stared at the younger girl with her yellow green eyes. "Krat's Creatures, WGBH."

Siamese's slightly upturned lips spread into a genuine smile before she opened the mechanic doors and slipped into the hall.