The Film (Part 2: Killed)

Mad Jenny could not smile, and instead shuddered silently as cold water was poured onto her, deeply soaking her clothing once more. She couldn't smile.

She tried, but there was nothing there.

"Smile. Smile you damned cow." The photographer was having a field day, leaning left and right, taking shot after shot at Jenny as she posed.

Supposed to be for an advertisement campaign involving a rainy day, and a pill that'll make you smile no matter what.

But Jenny wasn't offered any of the pills, so she posed there, trying so hard to smile, but failing as her clothing was removed by the studio staff, and a new dress put on. "Now smile this time, and don't fudge it up with that hideous blank-expression you always have."

Mad Jenny felt a bit hurt, but wasn't bothered very much. She already knew what this was really about. Torture. Enhanced interrogation techniques, to break her will, and her mind. Of course she'd been resisting.

And she wasn't going to have some lady who called herself a queen boss her around either.

At least not too much.

Yet she stood there in the mansion's studio, trying once more to smile as the studio staff readied the bucket of cold water above her. The Queen demanded it.

She was to simply smile as she was drenched by the water, as if it didn't bother her at all. So she did.

Poor Jenny smiled valiantly as the bucket turned over, spilling itself onto Jenny's head and shoulders. It soaked her back and front, and got in her eyes. She smiled though, despite the sadness and pain filling her. "Excellent, that was a real smile there; ahahaha," the photographer said. "Excellent job." Jenny finally felt relief.

"But I forgot to take any photos. "

Jenny's heart and smiled drooped, and they redid the set.

Jenny had to suffer through it, so here's the scene once more. Let's just go over it, so she doesn't have to suffer alone. We'll be here for her.

Jenny's wet clothing was removed by the studio staff, and a new dress put on. Very humiliating for her.

A bucket is prepared above her, filled with icy cold water. Very awful to have spilled on you.

She's told to smile. So she does. A very dark feeling to have to fake a smile.

A dark, desperate feeling began to bubble up inside of Jenny as she felt tears appear in her eyes. She braced herself. It would be worse than she expected.

The bucket of cold, chilling water is released, and she is photographed while in utmost pain and humiliation, while pretending to be happy despite such pain and humiliation. Her clothing is soaked, and so is she, as the fire in her heart is drenched. The little embers in her mind that kept her going even when it was cold, dark and lonely... they had gotten so incredibly doused just now that Jenny could feel her last sparks sputtering.

However, her fire did not go out.

Jenny will not let the Queen break her this easy.

But there is far more at play here than just Jenny's photoshoot.

"We caught him on the garden wall. Yes, she ordered him soaked, to join the photoshoot."

A cat had been caught. The photographer grinned, the cat meowing fiercely from within a cage made of wire just too thin to escape from. "What a pretty kitty. Let's make you useful. The medicine company mentioned something about using a cat to demonstrate what it's like to not have their product. Rain makes you sad unless you're on this pill, right? So let's see how sad this dumb cat can get."

But from the peanut gallery: "Sorry boss, but we're off shift now. We aren't paid enough to stick around for this sort of thing. See ya."

The studio staff left, leaving Mad Jenny alone with the photographer.

"Ahh, I suppose that's a problem." The photographer was a terrible man.

"Jennifer..." Her name was Jenny. Mad Jenny.

"Jennifer, you'll have to do it. You'll have to fill the bucket and pour it onto that cat there."

Jenny looked balefully towards the cat. It was an incredibly decent looking cat. Quite cute, as cats often are, but with a rather unhappy look on its face. Very likely because Jenny was not about to disagree. If she didn't obey, they'd take her 800,000 oodles of money away. That'd be rather disappointing, so Jenny shrugged, and went to fill the bucket.

The poor cat was not looking forward to this. The photographer put new film into his camera, clicking the film lid shut, and prepared the lens. Just then, The Queen walked in. That terrible lady whom Jenny had only seen a few times now.

"Are you really about to soak that pussy, Jenny? You naughty girl."

Jenny blushed, and felt weird at such erotic words. "Uh... I just... Have to do it."

Jenny wasn't exactly the best at speaking, but she was surprised by The Queen's scornful reaction.

As if she didn't get what she wanted. Jenny had a blank expression, one that did not amuse The Queen at all. A light blush wasn't enough. This was pathetic. But then, what was The Queen expecting?

Yet, it was true. Jenny really was about to soak that scared pussy. She had filled the bucket, and began to teeter it over the cat.

The cat began screaming, quite upset, and The Queen grinned, seeing the fear in the cat's eyes. Jenny shrugged, feeling like the most "just following orders" nazi asshole, and poured the entire bucket of cold water onto the cat.

Yowl. The cat did not like that at all. Jenny felt like a piece of shit, the cat now shivering, and quite unhappy.

But the photographer was smiling gleefully, having captured over 64 shots of cat-spastic action. A true monster.

The Queen grinned heartily, amusement filling her as the cat mewled pathetically, soaked and afraid.

"Hahahah, what a stupid, filthy cat. Such a horrid little beast. Best left outside in the snow at this point, but sadly, it's summertime."

Yes, it was summer, so the cat, once thrown outside, left to warm and dry itself in the sun.

But Jenny just felt bad the rest of the week.

...


It was finally Saturday. A day of rest and relaxation, a day of just doing what you want, free from stress.

But not for Jenny. The Queen had demanded Jenny for a personal day.

Jenny had to shave and sand down The Queen's feet. It was a pedicure from hell, to be honest.

Mad Jenny was broken at this point, of course. You think the photoshoot was the only thing they did to her?

It got worse, and we just skipped over that part, for your benefit. No one wants to read about the terrible things that happened to Mad Jenny. Not here at least. Follow @heretickitten if you ever want to know more about this, but for now, let's just move on, and away from those terrible events. Currently, Mad Jenny is about to do the most awful things to some weird rich lady's feet, so let's go and focus on that event, because it's important.

Jenny trudged up the stairs to The Queen's quarters, and knocked on the door. Jenny really didn't want to have to do this.

The door opened, and The Queen invited Jenny inside. Jenny eyed The Queen's feet, dreading what was about to happen.

The Queen laid out a few tools. Sandpaper, a cheese grater sort of device, and an epilator. Jenny felt disappointed. Nothing potentially lethal here.

So she'd just have to do it.

"Meow..."

From the corner of the room, Jenny heard a meow. It was that cat, once more in the cage. Poor guy must have been captured again.

"We're going to declaw the cat next. All four claws must be removed. Permanently."

Jenny was horrified. She knew the procedure wasn't all nice and pretty, the way vets make it seem. It's a really brutal, horrible sort of operation, one that no one would ever want done to themselves or other humans. Only to animals.

Still though, it's not as bad as having to touch this old lady's feet. What was she, some sort of narcissist whore? She's only a human. It's not like she can really be much better than anyone else on Earth. Simians get confused so easily. They have no idea what's up or down.

The Queen sat in a throne above Jenny, and Jenny sat below, to work the feet.

Jenny looked up at The Queen, holding her feet, and started to shave away the hair. It was a terrible thing, and Jenny nearly gagged, but held it in, because that would probably get the money taken away. As long as she was good, she could just keep it in her room. They afforded her that, so she felt like this was probably legit, as long as she just obeys. Still though, these orders have been absurdly cruel and horrible.

Mad Jenny looked down on The Queen. A pathetic person, with a cute title, but with no power behind it. A person who laughs when cats get water poured on them. That sort of attitude is pathetic and weak. Benevolence and altruism is the mark of the truly glorious person. Even Jenny knew that.

Still, Jenny felt awfully sad as she began to grind the excess, crusty skin off the old lady's feet. It was harrowing to her mental landscape. Still though, her mind bent even further as she saw the cat escape from the cage, and creep behind The Queen.

The cat transformed into a man. Yes, that man, and plunged the emerald encrusted knife into The Queen's throat.

The cursed knife. He twisted the knife once, then ripped through the rest of The Queen's throat, then twisted again, before taking her head in his hands, and cracking the neck brutally. The Queen was killed. And there was blood.

The man who had bought the knife back in Part 1? He was here right now, having been the very cat that Jenny had spilled water on before. What a goddamn twist. But the truth is the truth.

He slit The Queen's throat, and jumped over her, and ran at Jenny. "You fucking bitch. You poured water on me."

So he stabbed her in the shoulder, and smacked her in the face. She fell backwards, onto the floor, blood dripping out of her as she watched the man escape out the window, climbing down the lanterns, or whatever was there on the outside wall.

Jenny felt her mind simplify as she lost more blood, and she lay down in a ball.

Minutes or hours passed, and Jenny laid curled up on the floor, in a fog of pain.

She woke up slowly, blinking wearily, and wiggled her ears. She felt a bit different.

Mad Jenny had been turned into a cat.

(To be continued...)

~Kitten