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The Happy Smiley Dib Show!	By : V021 Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2643 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Elvis has the red fish. And my pants are filled with baloney. (Nod-nod, blink-wink-blink, nod-wink) Now, let’s pick up where we left off in Chapter 12: “My Sweet Revenge…”
Chapter 13 : … Will Be Yours For the Taking
“Nothing to fear… nothing to fear…” chanted Zim, creeping up through the basement. “It’s only Dib! Only stupid, squishy, bighead Dib boy! Yep… nothing to fear…”
Out of nowhere, a shadowy thing darted past Zim with an evil chittering. He screamed in terror and blasted the thing with 80-rounds worth of lead. Cautiously, he approached the quivering mass of bloodied fur and laughed in relief to discover it was only a rat. His voice strained into a hysterical cackle as he collapsed into one of the many discarded desks left over from the time before the Hi-Skool was ‘cool’.
Zim took a deep breath and reloaded. “Calm down. It was just a rat… A slimy, disgusting rat…”
But that didn’t quiet his paranoia. All around him beams creaked, plumbing groaned, and the phantom thump of feet echoed throughout. He strained himself to listen, to glean some hint of where Dib could be lurking yet it was useless. When a pipe cracked and squealed steam, he went toppling out of his seat.
“I’m… an INVADER!” Zim screeched, getting back into the chair. “The ELITEST of ELITE Irken soldiers! And the elite have NO FEAR! Do you hear me, Dib! Zim has no fear! This is me without fear! And a 10 mm rail-gun…”
“You jerk.” grumbled Dib from the darkness behind the alien. When Zim turned to face him, the human frowned. “First, you try to kill me. Now you’re stealing my lines? God! When will it end!”
Leaping back, Zim leveled the barrel of his gun. “I’m warning you, worm-boy! This is a Vortian Full-Auto Fecalator 9000! It can annihilate an entire squadron of mechanized troopers in under five milliseconds. In other words, I’ve got a hand cannon and I’m not afraid to use it!”
“That’s nice Zim, but…”
“You dare DOUBT Zim! DIE!” Laughing madly, Zim crushed the trigger in eager anticipation of Dib’s messy death only to hear a lame little click. “Huh?” He dumbly kept pressing the trigger only to get the same lame clicking over and over and over again. He shook the gun in blind rage. “Broken! How can it be broken! Argh! You worthless piece of…”
Dib cleared his throat and said baldly, “It’s too hot to fire again.” He pulled a pamphlet out of his pocket. “According to the manual, you have to let the barrel cool for at least 20 minutes between bursts before the fail-safe catch cuts off, otherwise the gun will explode in your face.”
“Give me that!” Zim snarled, yanking the manual away. “No one reads the manual! Besides, your primitive little brainmeats can’t handle the intricacies of grav weapon—Wait a minute… How do you learn to read Irken!”
“You taught me, Zim!” purred Dib, looming over the shorter alien.
“What!” Zim shrieked, jerking back. “I taught you! Never! As I said before, your crude monkey brains could not possibly handle the linguistic GLORY of Imperial Irken. Even if you overheard me speaking, you would never be able to understand its verbal majesty... Come to think of it, I haven’t even spoken Irken since…uh…” Claws twitching, he silently counted backwards.
“You haven’t spoken your native tongue since you came to Earth five years, eleven months, one day, three hours and fifty five minutes ago, Zim.” Laughing quietly, Dib smiled and advanced on the alien. “See, not only do I know your language but also everything about you, starting with your disastrous birth in the smeeting chambers of Irk that lead to a planet wide blackout. Next came your military training on Devastia and you teaming up with Skoodge in an escape attempt that caused a second planetary blackout,” he hissed, backing Zim into a discarded chalkboard. “That lead to your first assignment: Being sent off as an assistant science officer at a distant research station and your subsequent creation of an energy-consuming beast that consumed hundreds, including two of your Tallest .” Dib’s hand slid down Zim’s side, slipping around his waist. The alien squirmed underneath him.
“Then you went on a lunatic rampage across Irk,” Dib continued. “Since this ruined Operation Impending Doom 1, you were banished to Foodcourtia as a lowly fry-cook. But you ‘quit’ being banished, crashed the Great Assigning for Operation Impending Doom 2, and got saddled with the fake mission that brought you to Earth in the first place…” Smiling, he pressed against the alien. “And you told me all this, Zim, nearly five years ago when your PAK tried to take over my body. That’s how you gave me every little detail of your miserable existence…” His mouth was barely touching Zim’s. In a breathy pant, he whispered, “Since then, I’ve known things about you that even you don’t know about yourself.”
For a moment, Zim looked deep into the crazed stare. Then he began laughing.
“All this time!” came the hysteric gasp. “I was…was starting to think I really had gone CRAZY!”
Dib pulled back. “What are you talking about, Zim?”
But the alien rambled on, gibbering.. “Was Gaz in on your plan? And Keef, too? You know, he did have a—how do you humans put it—a ‘crunch’ on you too…”
“It’s ‘crush’, and please don’t remind me…” muttered Dib, gagging slightly.
Zim giggled madly. “I truly am impressed by the lengths you’ve gone to! All those years pretending to ignore me, subtly destroying my commitment to the mission while plotting my destruction. The girl was a brilliant touch, worm-baby.” Zim’s smile twisted weirdly as he wrapped an arm around Dib’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Using jealousy to draw me out…Sheer GENIUS! But you went that extra step by making me believe that I had finally defeated you and created the Other Zim to make me think that I was going INSANE from grief!” There was a sparkle of admiration in Zim’s good eye. “Now that’s a really neat trick! Tell me how you did it, Dib. Was the ‘coma’ faked? Can you astral-project yourself? Surely with a head that ENORMOUS you must have plenty of room for psychic powers… Then again, your species isn’t advanced enough to use them.”
“Okay…” Leaning in close and just barely touching his lips with the tips of his claws, Dib growled out answers, “First Zim, you’ve always been a delusional little freak. Second, there was no conspiracy to stop you. I honestly don’t give a flying rat’s ass whether you blow up the Earth or not. In fact, the longer I live on this dirtball, the more I want it destroyed! And finally, MY HEAD’S NOT BIG!” Dib stressed his point by raking his claw down the board inches from Zim’s head making an ear-rupturing shriek.
Zim glared. He started to snarl back, but the words got stuck in his throat when Dib’s hand slithered under his shirt. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” snickered the human, fingers skirting the edge of Zim’s jaw. He jerked Zim’s head up and pressed their mouths together lightly. Taking advantage of the alien’s startled gasp, Dib slipped his tongue inside. Caught up in the moment, Zim gave into the hunger and let the human probe deeper with sloppy strokes. Then he caught a sharp acidic tang burning throughout his mouth and down into his throat. Snarling, he shoved Dib away with enough force to send the human staggering over the desks.
“YOU’RE TRYING TO EAT MY FACE!” he roared, leveling the rail-gun at Dib.
“No. I was kissing you.” Dib purred sweetly, then spat out a broken capsule. “Oh, and slipping you a nerve toxin.”
“YOUR SILIVA IS POSIONIOUS!” screamed Zim in disbelief. His finger twitched against the trigger while he scrubbed furiously at his mouth. “Antidote! Give me the antidote for it right now or I’ll kill you!”
Dib chuckled. “Calm down, Zim. It won’t kill you. I just want to make you a bit more cooperative…”
“Cooperative? What for! Can’t you kill me now?” Zim whined. “Then you’re revenge will be complete.”
Pacing forward with that mad gleam in his eyes , Dib patted the alien’s cheek. “Oh, my revenge isn’t your death. See, I don’t want you to simply die, Zim. I want you to suffer.” He tightened his grip on Zim’s face painfully. “But first, I want to tell you exactly why. Anyway, it takes a few minutes for the toxin to take effect.” He sat down and gestured for Zim to take the seat next to him.
Zim fixed a Death Glare© on him but settled into the desk anyway.
“All my life,” Dib began bitterly. “I’ve been searching for proof that the paranormal exists. One piece of irrefutable proof to let me awaken these blind sheep to the threat hanging over their heads! Bigfoot babies, vampire gerbils, UFOs… it didn’t matter as long as I could make them believe instead of writing me off as another nutcase. So when I found out you were coming here, it was a dream come true. By revealing you for the alien menace that you claimed to be, I could finally prove that REAL aliens were out there! I’d have proof! Proof that I was RIGHT! Proof that I was SANE!
Dib sighed. “At least, I thought that at first… But as time wore on, even my best efforts got me nowhere. No matter how blatantly inhuman you were, no matter how much evidence I’d gather, they kept refusing to believe! Even my own family doubted me! After years of being called crazy, I began to wonder if they had been right all along… that I was crazy and you were just some lunatic with a skin condition. And what’s worse, the thrill in hunting you was gone. I had grown tired of playing the game. Between fighting you and fighting the collective idiocy of them…” He jerked his thumb toward the dance above their heads. Dib paused and took a deep, calming breath before continuing.
“It was wearing me down, Zim. I had given up on taking you seriously months before that day in your lab, and you never once realized that I’d stopped caring! Once I thought that you were this diabolically clever invader, but honestly Zim you’re an incompetent jerk. You always have been. Your plans are so shoddy and irrational that usually all I had to do was leave you to foil them yourself! Every time you announced your latest plan for global conquest, I’d make a half-ass attempt to defeat you. Yet I kept chasing you. Facing you on battlefield had become my life’s work, and I was going to keep doing it no matter how stupid or useless it became. I told myself I was only doing it because it was my duty, Zim. My mission. You of all people should understand what it’s like to tell yourself that lie so many times that you make it true…”
“Are you implying something, Dib?” muttered Zim past a numb tongue.
The human shook his head sadly. “Don’t you get it? That day in your lab when your Tallest told me what a joke you were was the day I lost everything. They did in minutes what you had failed to do since we met: Utterly shatter my will to live. When I said you broke my heart, Zim, I never meant that I loved you. You broke me by betraying the fantasy I had built up around you. Until then, until your masters said it right to my face, I thought of you as my greatest enemy. You were the evil monster from outer space to my noble hero. And I believed in you. I trusted you, Zim!” Tears misted on Dib’s glasses. “I wanted you to be the real thing so badly that I devoted everything I had—everything I was—to you… only to find out you’re nothing but a loser? You were a loser just like me.”
His shaking voice trailed off into an angry, choked silence. When Dib began again, his voice was eerily flat.
“I made the decision then and there to stop being a loser. I was going to be a Hero. I was going to be the son my dad always wanted. I was going to do as I pleased without being ridiculed, because I’d finally have the fucking respect I deserved. But to do all that, I had to give up you. And you know what? Without you in my life, I had success after success after success! I had everything I could ever want! Without you I had an adoring public, I had my dad’s approval, I had the popularity, the fame, the fortune, and piles of groupies… Without you I was the coolest motherfucker since Elvis. And without you I thought I finally had my freedom. I was free from the game, free from being a loser, and—best of all— free from YOU. And without you, I was miserable. I was literally dead inside without you because you were my life!
Dib laughed coldly. “Sounds weird, doesn’t it Zim? All those years of hating your guts, I never thought I could actually miss you. But I was wrong. I realized something after nearly killing you in front of the entire school last year. No matter what I did or how cool I became, I wouldn’t stop wanting you. I wanted the have you all to myself. All I’ve wished for since we met was to have you strapped down tightly on an examining table, completely at my mercy so I could make you mine. I wanted to dig elbow deep in of your carcass and yank your slimy alien guts out not just because I want to study you, Zim. What I really want is to violate you.”
Zim blinked stupidly. “Violate?”
“Do you really need me to explain, Zim?” He smiled at the sudden revulsion on the alien’s face. “Yes, it’s sick. And I like it.”
It took Zim a moment to regain his composure. The toxin seeping through him had the same effect of a serious binge without the happy oblivion buzz. And it plus Dib’s craziness was really pissing him off. Slowly, he hissed, “I’d rather die.”
“Funny you should say that, Zim.” Dib remarked calmly. “Did you know I’ve had the power to kill you for years? At any moment, I could say three little words that’d have you splattered across a dissection room in less than an hour. Can you imagine it? Legions of scientists across the globe running bits of you through their greedy little rubber gloves, probing your insides, studying you down to the very last molecule of your filthy inhuman DNA… All I’d have to do is admit you’re an alien, because they believe me now. And it doesn’t matter what I’ve said before, since even the scientists are merely the smarter sheep in the flock. But as professionally satisfying as exposing you to the world would be, it also means I’d have to share you with them. And that’s something I’ll never do. Because you don’t belong to those fools.” Dib warped his fist around Zim’s tie, dragging the alien closer. “You belong to me, Zim.”
“You’re INSANE.” Zim slurred as Dib let him drop onto the desk.
“No, no! I told you before Zim, I’m a SCIENTIST! I’m not insane! I’m just very slightly MAD!” Dib chirped, then glanced at his watch. “You’ve also got less than ten minutes of consciousness left, so I’m gonna have some punch. See you, Zim.”
Looking up, Zim watched the insanely happy human bound upstairs. Then he rolled over onto his back and stared with his one good eye at the dizzy maze of pipes. Slowly, the world began to collapse into a narrow black tunnel that wrenched tighter and tighter and tighter…
“No! I will not face defeat at the hands of the Dib!” roared Zim, sitting up. He thought for a second, then added, “I will not face defeat at any hands! Or feet! Or tentacle-like appendage! For I am ZIM! And I am UNDEFEATABLE!” He lurched to his feet and up each arduous step on legs that felt like microwaved Jell-O. By the sheer force of his INCREDIBLE Irken will, Zim made it back to the gym and wobbled along the wall with the rail-gun dragging behind him. Making half a circuit about the room, the alien staggered off the wall and into a sea of writhing, sweaty bodies. The music must’ve been blaring over the chatter of teens as they danced and fooled around in shadows, but to Zim it was a cottony muffle of twinkling noise that he swam through in search of Dib. Strobe lights and sequins glinting on prom dresses did little to help Zim with his already blurred double vision while he strained to find the human. He was so intent on hunting Dib that Zim failed to see Chuck dancing with his dates before crashing into them.
“Hey!” grunted the jock as he reached down and lifted Zim by his skull. “What you think you’re doing, jerk?”
Zim tried to snarl at Chuck but all he managed was a lame “Dee-dee-dee Dum!”
“You call me stupid, stupid?” Chuck tightened his grip.
“Dar …Mouth…tricks!” slurred Zim, doing his best to save his ass. “Wang…work…on me!”
Taking Zim’s confused word salad as a homosexual comment, Chuck pulled back a meaty fist. Instinctively, the alien flinched as it hurtled with deadly speed toward his already pummeled face. With a yelp of pain, the fist stopped nanometers from where Zim’s nose should be.
Opening his eye, Zim looked up Chuck’s arm and saw the shimmer of steel dug into the flesh.
Dib sipped his punch coolly, sinking his claws in deeper. “That’s mine, Chuck.”
The jock hurriedly dropped Zim.
Zim groggily stared at the shiny red dots that followed Chuck’s retreat into the crowd gathered around them, eager for a repeat performance. He tried to twist around to face Dib but the motion caused his body to seize up and tip over. He felt himself thump against something warm that smelled like ozone. “Oh…shit.”
Dib scooped the alien off the floor and smoothed back his wig. Draping Zim over his arms, he glided across the dance floor with the lab coat whipping dramatically out behind him as they sliced through the mob.
“Help me…” Zim mouthed when they passed the smudge that might’ve been Gretchen. The rail-gun slid from his hand and clattered at her feet.
Outside the first bugs of spring chirped an insane chorus that rang shrilly in Zim’s ears. He was carried through lamplight pools toward the glowing midnight black of a ‘59½ Mustang convertible. The blazing crimson engulfed Zim as he was lowered into a smooth leather seat. The snicker-snack of a safety cutting off hit Zim’s ears like lemons wrapped around shrapnel.
“Hold it!” Gretchen wheezed, knees knocking together as she hoisted the massive rail-gun. From the seat he was slumping further into, Zim groaned.
Dib turned toward her. “Gretchen, honey…put that down before you hurt yourself.”
“No! Not until you let Zim go!” came the gasp as she finally managed to hold the barrel steady.
“I don’t think you understand…” Dib began only be cut short by Gretchen fragging Rob’s new SUV and several other hapless cars. “Holy shit! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”
“Sorry!” wailed the girl, swaying unsteadily under the weight. “But I can’t…I can’t let you do this, Dib!”
“Go back inside.” Now Dib was advancing on her. “Please, Gretchen. Just go away.”
“I won’t let you kill him!” Gretchen screamed, leveling the muzzle at Dib while she sobbed. “Dib, I’m begging you! I don’t want to kill you… Dib please! Don’t make me shoot you…”
Zim watched the rail-gun flash apart as Gretchen fell back against the lamppost. Wrapped in toxic sedation, he felt the pieces clatter to the pavement and Gretchen’s dull thump of meatiness against the metal. Now Dib was leaning over her, white shadows overtaking the smear of purple-green across the sidewalk. Zim could hear her crying softly, pleading for his life, then silence. When the human stepped back, Zim saw the Gretchen-shaped lump slump over and lie motionless. He stared at her until jolted back by Dib slamming his door. Pulling himself together, Zim managed to turn toward the human. “Kill her?”
“No,” came the reply as Dib revved the engine. “She’ll be fine in the morning.”
The silence falling between them was heightened by wailing wind as Dib sped through the deserted streets. Zim stared at the human for a long time before giving up on the empty face. He soon lost track of where they were but in his drug-addled state, he didn’t mind. Rolling his head back, Zim stared at the blur in Technicolor flashing overhead with its glowing neon and mirrored city glass. The pretty colors soon dulled into a blue bruised night shot full of stars that mesmerized Zim as they streak past. When the car began to whip around the gut-wrenching turns of a forested hillside, he groaned at the odd pleasantness of being rocked back and forth. An iron archway flashed briefly above him, but Zim was too far-gone to figure out what it meant. By the time Zim became aware that they had stopped, Dib was already across the barren drive and vanishing into the sinister prison-like building looming out of the ground.
There came the creak of wheels as Dib reappeared, pushing a wheelchair down the ram and to Zim’s door. The alien made a weak attempt at clawing his captor when Dib lifted him into the chair, then he gave up, letting his arms fall limply to either side while they crunched over the gravel and up the ramp. Dib pushed him into an elevator and down a darkened hallway to an examining room. Zim sat alone in the dimness while Dib bustled around the room, listening nervously the tinkle of metal touching metal and the snap of rubber gloves. Then Dib switched on the lights.
Zim hissed in dulled rage at the painfully sudden illumination but he remained rag-doll limp when Dib pulled him from the chair onto a sheet-covered gurney. A quick set of tugs removed Zim’s coat and laid him flat. He dimly felt his gloves being jerked off next, along with the boots. Catching sight of paramedic scissors glinting in Dib’s hand, he tried to slap them away from the human only to find his limbs were numb to the point of being wet noodles. He couldn’t even lift his head to see Dib cut away the shirt and tie in three precise rips. Then came the tingling smoothness of scissors traveling up his legs to the waistband of his pants. The sting of cold air on his bare skin made Zim wince. Yet, when vinyl covered tips of Dib’s fingers trailed up from his thigh to his neck, the cold melted into shameful heat. It got worse when those horrible, probing fingers ran across Zim’s face and yank off his wig. Zim tried to scream in outrage as Dib pried out the contact of his remaining eye, but nothing came out. Dib flicked it away and reached toward the eyepatch…only to have his hand caught in remarkably powerful snap of teeth.
“Cute” muttered Dib. His free hand slammed over Zim’s jaw and squeezed until Zim was forced to let go. Zim mentally cursed himself for not taking at least a finger.
Dib reached again and tore off the eyepatch. He prodded at the puckered lids, pulling them apart to look inside. Studying the empty socket, he slid a finger inside and ran it around the chrome to the frayed cord of synthetic optic nerves. Howling in pain, Zim twisted his face away from Dib’s hand.
“Your eyes are fake…” Dib grumbled softly. Running a hand back down Zim’s body, he asked, “What else is fake, space boy?” He stopped, palm resting over the slit in his belly. “Are you a ‘boy’? According to modern psychology, gender identity is a nebulous concept. Given that, those excessive declarations of masculinity might be taken as symptomatic of an extreme rejection of your physiological sex in favor of your perceived ‘natural’ gender. In other words, you might be a transsexual who is a biological female but identifies yourself as being male.” The look of impotent rage on Zim’s face made Dib smile. “I could be wrong. After all, the entire theory was developed based on research of human subjects. Plus, this is the first time I’ve had you in a position where I can physically examine you without getting mauled in the process, so I can’t come to any real conclusion on that at the moment.” His fingers flexed slightly, causing the alien to jerk and twitch.
Zim fervently wished the human would stop, yet groaned unhappily when Dib suddenly pulled his hand away and stepped around the table. It wasn’t long before he realized that Dib was strapping his wrists down. In a futile effort, Zim attempted to fight back but it only made Dib yank the straps tighter. Satisfied that the alien was immobilized, Dib lazily paced around the table.
“What next?” Dib hummed, pausing to pick a scalpel from the tray nearby. “Should I start at the bottom?” He pressed the blade lightly against the sole of Zim’s foot, then let it barely scratch over the skin to his thigh as he mused, “Or maybe I ought to began right in the middle…” He drew tight spirals across the shuddering bell. Stopping beneath Zim’s ribs, Dib increased the pressure a little. Then he eased up and slid the scalpel’s tip across the sternum. “Then again, I might just start at the top…” With a steady hand, Dib traced the curve of each collarbone. He grabbed Zim’s arm suddenly and pressed the scalpel against his throat. “How about I end it all right now!”
Zim gasped and drew back, but not before Dib had made a shallow cut just under his jaw.
“Do you think it’s going to be that easy, Zim?” he snickered, licking at the wound. “I’m just getting started!”
“Bastard!” The word rang out with unexpected strength. Recognizing his mistake, Zim lapsed into a sullenly silence.
“For a second there,” Dib sneered, pulling back. “It seemed like the toxin’s worn off …”He pinched one of the alien’s antennae between his fingers. The scalpel glittered as it brushed lightly against the feathery thin feeler. “Well, Zim? Are you going to say something or am I going to have to start slicing things off?”
Grinding his teeth, Zim did his best to ignore the sensations coursing down his spine. It was only when Dib gave the antennae a sharp twist that Zim finally burst out, “Ooooo…ah! ALRIGHT! You win! I’m defeated! Now quit doing that! Please! NARGH! PLEEEEEEEEEEASE…STOP!”
“What? This?” Again, Dib twisted it, making Zim howl. “Or this…” He barely scraped the scalpel against Zim’s antennae.
“Just STOP!” Zim screamed, then panted in relief when Dib let go. The hunger had swollen to aching proportions from the human’s tortures. Looking up at the nasty, smug grin on Dib’s face made Zim groan miserably.
“Interesting,” muttered Dib. “Are you actually enjoying this?”
“NO!” Zim shrieked. “How dare you suggest that I, ZIM, would ever take pleasure in being assaulted, kidnapped, imprisoned and tortured by a disgusting, lowly worminess like you! The only joy I feel is in the CONQUEST! I’d never give you the satisfaction of hearing me beg!”
Dib laughed. “But you did beg.”
“Ha! I was…eh, lulling you into a false sense of security!” countered Zim lamely. “Yeah. I’ve just been playing along the whole time, waiting for the opportune moment to strike! The MIGHTY Zim simply toys with you! I could snap this pathetic bounds in a matter of seconds, kill you, and not even break a sweat!”
“Then do it.”
Zim blinked. He hadn’t expected Dib to call his bluff, but pride forced him to back it up. Writhing and pulling against the restraints, Zim put on an impressive show of trying to escape only to collapse back onto the table in defeat. He tried a few more times before finally giving up. “It appears that I’ve underestimated the strength of this bindings…”
“Bullshit.” Zim glared at him, but Dib continued unfazed. “You’re not even trying.”
“LIES! FILTHY MONKEY LIES!” roared Zim. “Why I ought to…”
They both stared quietly at the fist Zim had been waving at his enemy.
“Well! Look at that!” Zim barked, laughing weakly. “Must’ve been loose or something…”
Zim’s laughter took an even more timid shake when he saw the look in Dib’s eyes. The human leaned back a little, smiling in grim pleasure as he fingered the scalpel. “Well? Aren’t you going to kill me now, Zim?”
“It’s not fair!” snapped Zim. “You have a knife and I’m unarmed!”
“You have spider legs, intensive combat training, sharp pointy teeth, and claws. And the stuff in you PAK.”
The alien ground his teeth. “You…you probably tampered with them while I was lying helpless on the table!”
“I didn’t! I never even touched your back! But now that you mention it…” Snapping the glove off his claw, Dib grabbed Zim by the shoulder and deftly pops open his PAK. As he reached his fingers in, Dib looked the alien in the eye with a smile fresh from hell. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got in here…”
Zim screamed and trashed wildly when Dib ran a claw through a series of pain receptor grooves. Then the claws shifted from the grooves, sliding into a coupling node that caused Zim to stop breathing for several agonizing moments before the human pulled his fingers away. Glaring death at the human between gasps, Zim was unprepared for the next prod which sent the hapless Irken into violent, gibbering convulsions. On the upside, said convulsions also caused him to ripped loose the rest of the bonds.
Dib’s grin kept widening like an alligator’s mouth. “Having fun yet, Zim? I know I am.”
“I’m going kill you…” sputtered Zim, spraying bits of foamy spit at the human. He began laughing and froth madly. “You know that, right? I’m really going to tear your fucking organs out in alphabetical order starting with the slimy piece of blacken filth you call a heart. And this time, I mean it.”
“Then do it.” Dib pressed the scalpel into Zim’s hand. He sat down next to the dumbstruck alien and stripped down to his waist. He turned toward Zim, leaning closer so the alien had unimpeded access to his torso. “You’ve been waiting years to kill me, Zim. Now’s your chance! Go ahead. Rip my fucking heart out. Slit my throat, or tear my belly open and laugh as you watch me bleed to death. I don’t care.”
Tightening his grip, Zim reached out and touched the point of the scalpel lightly underneath Dib’s ribs. There were scars crisscrossing the human’s abdomen from their last battle, still raw and pink against the fish-belly paleness. He let the scalpel glided over them and let it rest on the set of small triangular scars going up Dib’s side. Shifting the deadly instrument around in his hand so that it pointed away as he traced their outlines. “I should’ve let you die.”
“Why didn’t you?” The human’s voice was soft yet cold.
Zim said nothing, holding the scalpel up between them for a moment before flinging it with enough force to lodge it in a steel cabinet. He wrapped his legs around Dib’s waist and drew the human closer.
“You tell anyone about this, Dib,” he snarled, nipping at the human’s earlobe. “And I’ll make sure your death is long and very, very painful.”
Dib merely laughed, letting Zim pull him down on top of him.
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