The doors to Prevaia Labs opened, disgorging a torrent of tourists, goggling at the advancements that Prevaia offered. The security cameras made a casual pan over the tourists, the guards in their climate controlled booth deep in the bowels of the building giving the faces no more than a cursory glance. If anyone was to break in, they would do it at night, not now, during business hours, with employees and visitors running rampant.

They did not notice as one visitor turned her face away as the camera panned her. The tour-guide moved on, babbling inanely about the weather satellites that Prevaia had co-created in conjunction with the Space Program in order to monitor large storms and provide better advanced warning. Passing the washrooms, which no one noticed, eyeing the pristine technology hanging from the ceiling by strong steel cables, no one noticed the woman as she trailed to the end of the group and then seemed to fade away, pushing open the door to the women's washroom and sliding inside.

No one noticed.

Once inside, she strode purposefully across the small room, straight into one of the toilet cubicles. Latching the door behind her, she did not sit down on the toilet, instead stepped up onto the bowl, and pushed up one of the ceiling panels. She rested one booted foot on the steel toilet roll dispenser, and pushed up, one hand loosely around the edge of the hole, the other reaching up, reaching for top of the cinder block wall that divided this and the next room. She hooked her fingers over the wall, and pulled herself up into the crawl space above the partition ceiling, onto the top of the cinder block wall.

She moved the panel back into place, the rolled onto her back, unzipping her brown bomber jacket. She pulled out the coiled length of bungee cable and harness, and pulled the harness on, hooking the bungee cord to the grappling hook gun she snapped to her utility belt. She pulled a long titanium knife in a specialized sheath out of her jacket next, strapping it handle down to her right thigh. Lastly, she removed a pair of brown leather gloves from an inner pocket, which she slipped over her hands. She then rolled over on her belly, and began to crawl along the cinder block wall, heading for the executive private elevator.

She reached the elevator shaft within minutes, taking no special precautions against being heard, Prevaia guarded its corridors, not its crawl spaces. She reached the access panel in the shaft, and worked the fingers of her left hand through the mesh, and pushed. The screen moved inward, and she twisted her hand, turning the panel so she could pull it back into the crawl space. She set the screen on the ceiling panels, the leaned forward into the shaft, checking the position on the elevator. It was just under her, she was just above the ground floor. She looked up the shaft, to the bare glint of light far at the top of the shaft.

She pulled herself out of the crawl space, onto the top of the elevator, walked across it's uneven, dusty surface to the metal rungs set into the side of the shaft. She grasped the one at eye level and then the next, and began to climb up the shaft, keep her ears open for the sounds of the elevator starting up.

She climbed, only once checking the Timex strapped to her right wrist. She had entered Prevaia with the last tour, and now, some twenty minutes later, the tour was over, and the business was closing up for the night. But the elevator was not summoned. No, not this private elevator, used only by the CEO of the company, he would already be on the top floor, squirreled away in his private penthouse, sleeping and dreaming of future companies he would raid, technologies he would plunder. She climbed, steadily, quickly, ears open for the slightest noise, counting the rungs, counting the floors, continuously rising towards her target, until she reached the seventy-fifth floor, the penthouse suite. A mere fifteen minutes had passed.

She reached the top of the elevator shaft, reaching up and to the side, and forced the gate at the top up, pushing it up, resting it against the opposing wall. She grabbed the edge to the gateway and swung away from the inset ladder, hanging over a seventy-five floor drop, grabbing the opposing side of the gateway, and pulling herself up though the opening, into the chamber above the elevator, where the collection of motors and pulleys rested. She flipped the gate closed, she would not be exiting by the way. She left the chamber by way of the air conditioning shafts crawling through the cramped metal corridor, until she came to a T-junction, where she began to descend into the lower shaft, scanning the access vents for the correct hall. When she found it, again she worked her fingers into the screen and pushed, this time letting the screen fall silently to the plush carpeting of the hallway floor. She slid out of the shaft and landed noiselessly on the floor. She picked up the screen, swiveled as she stood and placed it back into its original position.

She walked down the hallway, unworried about motion detectors or security cams, not up here, in the CEOs private sanctum sanctorum, where no one dared enter. Padded down the hall, listening for the sound of deep rhythmic breathing that signaled sleep, stopping in front of a door, slightly open, from within issued the sounds of sleep. She pushed the door open, inside was the CEO curled on his side, sleeping the undisturbed sleep he evidently thought he was entitled to. His room was sparsely decorated, the bed set into the floor, the only furniture in the entire room, the far wall dominated by a large picture window, beyond which lay the acres of private property, the high wall, and a secluded road beyond.

And there, laying beside his bed was the box puzzle, that which might be able to rescue her family from the Nine levels of Hell. Unguarded, deadly little toy, so total was his confidence that the CEO believed that no one would be so brash as to try to enter his private home.

And the why was evident also. Within his private bedroom, crisscrossing in a seemingly haphazard manner, were dozens of razor thin blue laser beams, the final security defense. There was no way though, hence the brazen position of the puzzle.

She narrowed her eyes, turned and backed away. Then she sprang forward, dashing into the room, through the laser network, scooping the puzzle into her left hand as the alarms began to bray, as the CEO was started awake by the wailing klaxons. She levered the grappling hook gun up from her belt and fired the grappling hook into the wall beside the window, letting the gun drop to the floor as she dashed towards the window. She pulled a .357 auto from the waistband of her jeans as the CEO cowered amongst his bedclothes, certain that she was going to kill him. But she did not fire at the naked, defenseless man, did not turn from her headlong rush towards the window, instead lifting the gun, taking aim at the window, and firing nine times into the glass. It shattered into a weakened spider web of cracks.

She dove at the window arms crossed over her face for protection, smashed through the weakened barrier, out into the night. Plummeting towards the ground, she tossed the gun away from her, not needed now, and yanked the blade from its sheath, still falling towards the ground, rapidly approaching, unforgiving hard ground, frozen by the harsh winter winds. But then, the unwinding bungee cord began to check her fall, slowing her suicidal descent, until it seemed she was not falling at all. She reached with her left hand, the ground came to kiss her and she set the puzzle down, soft and safe, before springing back up. But she did not allow this, reaching back with the titanium blade, slicing through the bungee cord, falling again, landing on her knees on the ground, safe, secure, unharmed.

She stood, shucked off the harness, stooped and picked the puzzle from the ground and re-sheathed her blade. Far above, the klaxons still wailed, she wasted not a second, turning from the building, running towards the cover of the trees, the wall, the road beyond. She reached the tree-line as the doors behind her burst open, three guards three dogs, hot on her trail. Into the trees she ran, her trail clearly marked by the tracks in the pristine snow as she dodged between trees.

She halted, looked up, jumping reaching for a low tree branch. She climbed into the tree, looked down, as the guards and their dogs reached where she had been a moment before. The dogs confused, sniffed her vacated trail, straining at their leashes, unsure where she had gone. Balanced on the branch, she reached into her jacket, pulling out a thin barreled gun, aiming with the gun a the guards below. She fired three times, hitting each guard in the neck, dropping them, but not killing them. A specialized gun this one, firing a single pellet of ice and a powerful tranquilizer, which rendered the guard unconscious but unharmed. She was not a killer. The dogs knew where she was now, twisting, jumping, trying to reach her. Their barking would alert someone, but the tranquilizer she had used on the guards would only harm the dogs. She ejected the clip, reaching into an inner pocket, switching it for the other clip within, slamming the other clip into the gun, firing at the dogs, again, rendering them unconscious. She was well prepared.

She lowered herself out of the tree, amongst the unconscious forms, and ran from them towards the wall, to that place she had entered, where the razor-wire at the top was cut away. She climbed the stone wall quickly, efficiently, reaching the top, over, jumping to the bottom with barely a backward glance. Across the ditch, to where her Humm-Vee waited, keys safely hidden in a wheel well. She retrieved the keys, unlocked her vehicle, got inside, tossing the control pad onto the passenger side, slamming the door, starting the truck. She put the truck into gear, twisted the wheel sharply, and drove directly off the road, onto the cut-line, where exiting onto the highway would ensure she could not be followed. Down the cut-line and onto the highway, merging with the steady stream of cars, heading back towards her cabin, where she could force the puzzle to take her away.

She sat cross-legged, her back against a wall, toying with the deadly creation. "I can break you." she growled, forcing her thumbs against the circlet of gold. The puzzle let out a human squeal of pain, and the far wall began to split. She stood, her eyes narrowing, puzzle in one hand, .357 in the other. Cobwebs and dust coughed out into the room, and she entered the Labrynth, final Level of Hell.

Almost immeadiatly, something attacked her, hissing and gobbling madly. She ducked under it's clawed hands, kicking upward with both feet. The breath whooshed out of it and it staggered backward, its movements insectile. She stood again, seeing the reason of its movements, it clung to the wall like some obscene insect. A slight smile graced her lips and she pumped seven rounds into it at a range of about a foot and a half. It squealed, it's voice an echo of the box's pain, and collasped to the cracked stones, black ichor oozing from the many punctures. She stepped over the wounded creature and continued into the maze of pain and death.

Dreamer dashed into Pinhead's chambers, a look of fear on her normally calm features. Pinhead tilted his head in her direction. Only something dire would make her enter his private chambers. "Master! A human female comes! She forced the Configuration!"

A human? "A female?"

"Not the she beast who turned Angelique against us, but another! She has injured Tunnel Guard, and she approaches!"

"Wonderful." Pinhead gained his feet and strode out to meet this female. It was not the accursed she beast, the one who- Pinhead involuntarily shivered. It did no good to think of that one. It had to be-

Gunshots rang out, and Neon staggered into view, his tubing shattered and his eyes bleeding holes. Eye-Cam managed one agonized scream- Pinhead had to smile, whatever else this female was, she could evoke Suffering that was equal only to his own talents- as she shot out his electronic eye. Then she was in view. She was strangely familiar, dark hair, dark eyes. Quite slight and slender. In fact, she resembled-

"Terri?" the woman spoke. Pinhead turned. Dreamer stood beside him. Shook written plainly on her features. A sound, a sliding step, and the .357's cold metal barrel pressed against Pinhead's eye. Could it kill him? He was not truly a demon, perhaps this weapon could. "What did you do to her, you fucking bastard?"

"I have been termed worse." Pinhead replied evenly.

"Lani . . ." Dreamer breathed. "Master, this is my sister."

"Family is welcome in Hell. You'd make a wonderous Cenobite."

"Can the shit, cocksucker, I'm here for my sister!"

Dreamer lowered her face from her sister's burning gaze. "Lani, do not look at me." Shame bruned thin color in her cheeks. But it faded quickly. She was a Cenobite. Her Family was her. Her face bleached back to Death. "You haven't the right . . ."

Lani spit on Pinhead, who relished the debasing act. "I should kill you for what you've done!"

"Lani . . . it is not your right." Dreamer said in slow halting tones. Lani blinked. Anger Burned in Dreamer's eyes. "My place is HERE!" Her attention shifted, and Pinhead acted, reaching down to grab a blade from his many collected, and slashing Lani's hand. She dropped the pistol, which discharged harmlessly into a wall. Lani staggered back, clutching her bleeding hand. "Mine!" Dreamer snarled, rushing forward to engage her Master's attacker.

Lani knew that whatever Terri had been, it was gone now. Her family was no longer here. She stepped back, and sidekicked Terri, connecting with her throat. She dropped, coughing. Lani scooped up the pistol, turning just in time to block another slice with the gun. She fired a round into the creature's shoulder, and backed away. "You leave?" Pinhead said, trying to avoid the burning sensation in his shoulder. "So soon?" A flesh hook shot out of a shadow, hooking deep into Lani's back.

She gasped in pain and jerked away, snapping the chain. "I will not die in this Pit!"

"Death is not an option." Pinhead murmured. He would enjoy teaching this one. "We shall become close, you and I." Another flesh hook, sinking into her thigh.

Lani yanked loose, a sizeable chunk of her succulent flesh remaining. Dreamer licked her lips in anticipation. Lani swallowed what was left of her love for her sister, and shot her point blank range. Blackened brains splattered Pinhead's chest. He dipped two fingers in the mess and licked it off. "Such a delicate flavor. You must enjoy."

"Get stuffed!" Lani shot him twice. He staggered backwards with each shot, but did not go down. The hammer fell on an empty chamber. Flesh hooks flashed, catching Lani in the left breast and lower abdomen. More, thigh and calf, like a marionette. Pain flashed warning signs behind her eyes. Lani felt herself slipping away down a dark tunnel. A dark tunnel that would last an eternity. With numbing hands, she ejected the spent clip out of her pistol, reaching past the retracting chains to her jeans pocket, for the other clip.

"Suicide? It is beyond you, my love." Pinhead leaned forward as Lani slapped the clip home and cocked the gun. He traced the blade of his knife along her cheek, a vermillion line slowly oozing behind it's path.

"Who said, anything about suicide?" Lani's voice was amazingly calm.

Pinhead frowned. She fired into his chest again, forcing hime backward. The chains began to lift her off the ground, tearing her core away. She held the box puzzle out, pointing the gun at it. "It will not work, stripling." Pinhead smirked. The gun may damage the box, but not destroy it.

Dreamer raised what was left of her head, a bloody tear leaking from her one remaining eye. "I'm sorry Lani. I knew your ploy would fail. The last of my love I give to you, to release you from your bonds."

"NO!" Pinhead roared, realising her intentions. She had forced the box, if it was destroyed, she would return to the FleshWorld.

The gun roared, and the box puzzle shattered, the steel-jacketed slug propelled by more than just the gun powder behind it. Lani vanished in a rain of blood. Pinhead turned to face Dreamer. "Why? Your family would have been complete." Pinhead questioned, advacing on the shaking demon.

Dreamer smiled darkly. "You are not the only one who can create Suffering. She would have been your triumph. Now she is your failure- you could not see past your limitations. I may be tainted, but my love was not. You have failed in creating a demon, you are tainted with your human self." And she began to laugh.

Because Pinhead knew she was right.