Ami let her body go limp, her eyes glazing over from cold and shock. Then Zoisite yanked her over a particularly hard ice boulder that smacked the back of her head, and the world went dark.
She woke up on something purple and furry. She was lying on her stomach, her preferred sleeping position, with her head turned to the side. For several long moments she could do nothing but stare at the sheer vibrancy of the color. The fur tickled her nose with each breath, but was soft against her cheek. She slowly moved her hands close to her shoulders and lifted her head and chest upward, looking like a baby just learning to view the world. She blinked, several times.
The walls were covered in mirrors and colored glass. And instead of a normal overhead illumination, rays of light crisscrossed the room in interesting patterns. The object she was lying on was a bed, a huge bed shaped like a pair of lips, and covered in the unbelievably soft purple fur. She scrambled to her knees and looked upward, for the first time noticing the disco ball rotating slowly overhead, the circular lounge chairs covered in something that looked like crimson velvet, and the satin drapings that broke up the montony of glass and crystal on the walls. She laughed, so hard that tears started spilling down her cheeks. She was in a bad seventies disco that had been turned into a porn shoot.
"I'm pleased to see you're feeling better." Ami turned around so fast she lost her balance and fell backwards on her elbows. Zoisite was standing in an open doorway, which would have been completely concealed by the unusual walls if it were closed. He was wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama pants in a rich shade of green. They hung low on his hips, and his hair was loose. Ami swallowed, unable to keep her eyes from taking in the view. For a skinny little thing he had nice muscles, in the wiry, lanky style that some girls liked. That you like. She shoved the wayward thought from her head.
"I'm warm now, if that's what you're implying." Her voice came out whisper soft and she slammed her eyes shut to block out his form. She didn't need her hormones to overule her common sense and desire for survival.
"I like the outfit, by the way. So Sailor Mercury is really just a little schoolgirl. So what's your real name?" Ami's eyes flicked open and down and she was mortified to see she was back in her school uniform, the blouse, skirt, and bow as pristine as when she'd put them on this morning. She swore softly under her breath.
"I have no idea what you mean." Zoisite clucked his tongue.
"Such language from a little girl. Come on, how stupid do you think I am? It's obvious you girls have some kind of "secret identities" or we would have found you long ago. And you're keeping your little afterschool activities secret from the world at large somehow." He finally moved into the room, the door swinging shut behind him. As Ami thought, it was impossible to find the opening.
"Why should I tell you my name?" She forced herself to speak, and tried desperately to keep the terror she felt out of the words. "Do you like to know the names of everyone you kill? Or are you just going to drain me to nothing?" She was satisfied with the last question, her tone coming out more forceful. He simply laughed at her.
"Ah, little one, I see you have a very positive view of me." He stepped forward again, this time his shins rubbed against the edge of the bed. "Actually, what happens to you depends on how much you...cooperate." There was a sensual lilt in the last word, leaving Ami quite certain of what he meant. He leaned forward on the bed, his hands resting on either side of her outstretched legs. His face grew serious. "I will have my answers, one way or the other, you can simply tell me what I wish to know, or I will force you to tell me." One hand traced up the outside of her bare calf and she shivered. "But you might not like my techniques." Ami closed her eyes and turned her head.
"Ami, Ami Mizuno." She choked out the words softly and the hand stopped it's dance over her skin. Zoisite grunted a bit.
"See, that wasn't so difficult. Your age?" She shifted on the bed, trying to move up out of his reach. A hand on her ankle halted her movements.
"Sixteen." She didn't hesitate with that answer, but curiosity was now fighting her common sense.
"Why do you want to know?" He laughed again, the sound soft and suprisingly sexy. She shook her head again as if to shake the noise away.
"I'm not a cradle robber, despite my reputation. I just wanted to know if you were old enough for me to be having these thoughts." Ami swallowed, she didn't have to ask what thoughts. But her curiosity was banging on her mind again, making her say stupid things.
"How old are you?" There was a moment of total silence. Zoisite tilted his head to the side for a moment. She could see the indecision in his eyes and she held her breath. Finally he stood upright, as if making a decision.
"Eighteen, I believe. It's been a long time since..." The words trailed off and he turned away. "Music on, something soothing." She glanced around, trying to see who the man was talking to and why. The soft voice of Barry White filled the room and Zoisite's face softened as he returned to the bed. This time he didn't stop at leaning over the end but crawled forward, forcing Ami back against the pile of white and red satin pillows. "That's better, now, where were we?"