sweet dreams are made of screens

[Laverna]

Prologue:


The lovable and witty Chief was snoring softly on his monitor in the meeting room at the ACME Detective Agency in San Francisco, California. His holographic head bobbed up and down, and digital drool dripped from his pixelated chin. The soft hum of the air conditioning seemed to mix with his peaceful snooze—the perfect setting for a little mischief.


The mechanical doors slid open with a quiet hiss, and the familiar click of red heels echoed across the room. Carmen Sandiego’s footsteps were deliberate, sharp, almost like a warning. As she approached the Chief’s slumbering form, she paused, a slight smirk curling at the edge of her lips. How could a holographic man drool in his sleep?


Shaking her head, Carmen’s gloved fingers gripped the hard drive hidden beneath her coat. Her movements were smooth, practiced. In one swift motion, she inserted the drive into the port on the monitor. The moment the connection was made, Chief’s image flickered once, twice, and then… vanished.


Chief, blissfully unaware of his theft, was now completely offline. Or should I say… kidnapped?


Carmen turned toward the door, her lips still curled into a mischievous smile. Time to see how the game would change without the Chief’s interference.


When Carmen finally returned to her hideout, she plugged Chief into her computer and brought him back online. His holographic head flickered slightly as he drifted in a digital slumber. With a small, almost fond smile, Carmen kissed the monitor on his forehead.


Leaning back in her chair, she tapped her fingers impatiently. It was the same routine—antagonize the player, taunt them with her brilliant heists—but this time, something was off. No response. There had been no reply from the player for what felt like ages.


“How long have I been stealing without a challenge?” she muttered to herself. ACME’s pursuit hadn’t slowed, but the player… Where were they?


Nearly three decades of chasing, of playing this never-ending cat-and-mouse game, and now—nothing. The silence echoed through the empty hideout as Carmen stared at the unblinking monitor, unease settling in her chest.


A petite woman stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she took a deep breath.


“Boss, we have a problem,” she said, her voice tinged with irritation. “Four henchmen spontaneously combusted during a training exercise.”


She snarled as she spoke, her frustration palpable.


Carmen spun around in her rolling chair, letting out a long sigh. “Mi Mija,” she began, shaking her head, “people don’t just randomly explode to get out of work.”


She groaned as her gaze landed on Laverna, the younger woman’s frustration mirroring her own.


Carmen pushed herself up from her chair, eyes narrowing as she looked at Laverna, who stood with her arms crossed, clearly irked by the bizarre incident.


“Fine, let’s go check on our explosive little problem,” Carmen muttered, her tone almost playful despite the seriousness of the situation.


Before leaving, Carmen glanced over her shoulder at the monitor. Chief’s sleeping form was still on the screen, his drooling digital head making her smirk in a brief moment of amusement.


With a soft sigh, she approached the monitor and clicked the mouse, bringing Chief back online. His holographic head flickered to life, still blissfully unaware of his abrupt departure.


Carmen leaned forward, kissing the monitor lightly on Chief’s forehead. “Welcome to your new home,” she said quietly, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.


Before she left the room, Carmen turned back toward the monitor and spoke as if Chief could hear her. “Make yourself comfortable. The goddess requests my attention,” she said with a teasing, almost dismissive tone.


She turned to Laverna, who was now standing expectantly at the door, waiting. “Let’s go,” Carmen said, her tone now serious as she gestured toward the training facility. Whatever had just happened with the henchmen needed to be dealt with, and fast.


Laverna didn’t speak as she followed Carmen, but the tension between them was palpable, the weight of unspoken words filling the space as they walked side by side. Carmen’s usual confidence was tinged with unease, but she wasn’t about to show it. Not now.


As they approached the training area, Carmen’s mind buzzed with the question that lingered in the back of her head: Where had the player gone? ACME was still chasing her, but no one was responding to her antics anymore. The game had changed in ways she hadn’t expected, and she wasn’t sure if that was good—or bad

 

[Laverna]

Chapter One:


Carmen had returned to her captive’s side hours later, her irritation carefully hidden behind a masterful poker face. Beneath her composed exterior, however, she was seething. The alleged “exploded henchmen” had never existed.


“Why would my child lie directly to my face?” Carmen muttered under her breath, lounging upside down in her leather armchair.


Her long, raven-colored hair spilled onto the tiled floor like a dark river. She glanced up at Chief, whose holographic face stared down at her from his new perch on her red laptop, his expression frozen in shock.


Carmen allowed herself to slide off the chair and onto the floor, rolling onto her stomach, chin propped in her hands. She met Chief’s digital gaze with sharp eyes.


“Maybe she fell asleep and dreamt it, sweetheart,” Chief suggested, his tone light, as if he knew exactly how to handle the eccentricities of the Sandiego family.


Carmen’s gaze didn’t waver. “Perhaps,” she said, voice tinged with doubt. “Yet, this isn’t the first abnormal behavior I’ve noticed from her in the last couple of months.”


Her frustration bubbled to the surface as she studied Chief’s flickering form. Something about this incident felt different from the others—like a thread in the fabric of her daughter’s reality had snapped. She couldn’t ignore it.


Chief floated closer, his holographic face now beside hers. “Well, you’re acting off too,” he remarked with a teasing grin. “You’re making it hard to concentrate. You’re in such a vulnerable position.”


He hovered closer, his digital form suddenly looming with playful menace. “I could storm this place with ACME detectives and walk away with a huge bounty,” he added with exaggerated laughter.


Carmen raised an eyebrow but didn’t move. Her confidence was unshaken. “Oh, Chief,” she said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “If you think this is vulnerable, you clearly don’t know me as well as you think.”


Before she could react, Chief pecked a quick kiss on her cheek. Carmen didn’t slap him away. Instead, she smoothly righted herself, sitting on her knees with practiced grace.


“See? Vulnerable,” Chief teased, still hovering close. “I stole a kiss from my captor.”


Carmen wiped the kiss off her cheek with a sharp motion, her voice turning icy. “Just because I’m not torturing you doesn’t mean you should get casual with ACME’s most wanted criminal.”


Chief pouted at the sight, his expression flickering between mock hurt and amusement. “Aw, come on, Carmen. I thought we were friends,” he joked, but the playful edge remained despite the rebuke.


Carmen stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting, unfocused. Life was a game of chess. Every move had to be calculated, every piece shifted with precision if one hoped to achieve their ambitions. Her fingers traced the edge of the desk absently. Her signature hat lay discarded beneath it, a casualty of one of her more playful moments.


But the mood shifted as her thoughts returned to Laverna. Carmen couldn’t shake the image of her daughter freezing mid-sentence, her words turning to gibberish before she became a motionless statue. Time seemed to stop for her, and Carmen knew this was no simple misunderstanding.


Laverna’s claim about the henchmen—four of them spontaneously combusting during a training exercise—had thrown Carmen off. She’d dismissed it at first, but something in the way Laverna spoke, the way her eyes darted nervously, made Carmen pause. Was Laverna seeing things, or was something more sinister at play? It was too early to say, but Carmen couldn’t afford to ignore it.


Her thoughts sharpened as she focused on the matter at hand. What was happening to Laverna? And why hadn’t she seemed herself for the past few months? Carmen prided herself on being several moves ahead in any situation, but this—this was different.


She had no idea how to move forward when the chessboard beneath her was crumbling.


How could one move diagonally when forced to move horizontally? Could a pawn ever become a queen? Laverna’s condition left Carmen stumped, but what was most troubling was that Laverna hadn’t mentioned any pain, any struggle. She acted like nothing had changed. Perhaps it was Carmen who was losing her grip.


But wait… that didn’t make sense either.


Chief, sensing Carmen’s growing unease, let out a sigh. This wasn’t just another scheme to thwart ACME. No, this was something else. And he, being Carmen’s usual emotional support, would need to play his part.


He floated closer, his holographic face flickering with impatience. “Snap out of it, Sandiego,” he said, his voice firm but not harsh.


The sudden interruption startled Carmen, breaking her from her thoughts. She lost her balance and fell back onto the tiled floor with a soft thud.


“Really, Chief?” she muttered, propping herself back up on her knees, her raven hair spilling around her face. She pushed it back with an annoyed huff.


Chief’s face flickered slightly, exasperation crossing his expression. “Well, excuse me for trying to help. Next time, I’ll just let you sit there staring into space like a glitched-out NPC.”


Carmen arched an eyebrow, a reluctant smirk tugging at her lips. “You’d do well to remember which side of the game you’re playing, Chief,” she quipped, her voice dry but still amused.


She hoped Laverna had followed her instructions to visit the medical clinic. Carmen was genuinely concerned. Something was wrong, and she wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t just a passing phase.

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 2:


Laverna sidestepped the clinic doors like a cat dodging a leash. Another check-up? Not a chance. At twenty-one, she wasn’t some kid to be poked and prodded just because the docs couldn’t make sense of her glitches. No, Laverna Sandiego had better places to be.


New VILE Haven rose around her like a fortress of shadows and neon—a city within a city, built by outlaws for outlaws. Carmen Sandiego might’ve been the queen of this criminal empire, but Laverna? She was the princess, born and raised in the heart of the underworld. To some, this place was a cult, to others, a secret society of lawbreakers too clever to get caught. To Laverna, it was home—a twisted kingdom where she didn’t just belong; she ruled in her own way.


Her shiny red Mary Janes clicked against the concrete as she made her way toward the History Museum of the Villains’ International League of Evil—or HM.VILE. It wasn’t just a front for Carmen’s operations; it was Laverna’s personal throne room, a place where she could slip out of the doctor’s reach and into the arms of mischief.


It was never that simple to navigate Carmen’s city—the one she’d crafted herself with the precision of a master thief and a criminal mastermind. The city was built like a maze, designed to throw off anyone daring enough to pursue her, like a fly stumbling into a Venus flytrap. Even after living there her whole life, Carmen always had her daughter, Laverna, watched—either escorted by her, or surrounded by a couple of highly paid muscle-bound shadows who’d vanish as quietly as they appeared.


“Mom, c’mon,” Laverna had argued, her voice oozing confidence. “The medical clinic’s right down the block. I’ve been going there since I could crawl. I can handle it.” She’d fed her mother that line half an hour ago, fully convinced that Carmen wouldn’t notice her little dodge.


But Carmen knew better. She always did.


“Laverna,” Carmen’s tone was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. “Sure, you can. But if I find out you’ve been lying to me again, you’re in serious trouble.” She’d given that warning with a grin that was anything but warm—more like a cat eyeing its prey.


“Yes, mother,” Laverna had replied with a mix of feigned innocence and impatience, before slipping out the front door as Carmen stood in the shadows, watching.


Now, Laverna was forgetting all about that warning as she skipped down the path, her red Mary Janes tapping against the cold concrete, her mind far from the looming threat. Carmen’s city was a jungle—one that had no tolerance for careless moves. But Laverna didn’t know half of it.


The elusive Carmen Sandiego was working on her next heist as usual, researching the perfect artifact to pilfer from the cruel world outside her sanctuary. Rehoming her old friend Chief was her latest accomplishment.


The AI would’ve preferred to have been able to turn in his two-week notice to ACME before being forced to move his life to an entirely new city. He watched Carmen with a lens of caution. Yes, he had been teasing her earlier, and she had teased him right back, but now she was seriously buried deep in the internet, surrounded by thousands of auction magazines and traveling museum exhibit files scattered across her desk.


Everything was going smoothly, everything was finally perfect in Carmen’s world again. Nothing could stop her now. Until a loud knocking echoed at her office door.


She straightened up, snapping, “I’m busy, come back later, okay?” The command slipped from her lips instinctively.


Chief couldn’t help but chuckle, watching Carmen fall into the same old routine she had before she left the ACME Detective Agency. She hadn’t changed as much as he’d expected all those years ago. With a grin, he muted his laughter, careful not to draw her annoyed gaze in his direction.





“Boss, I’m sorry to interrupt your musings, but we’re currently receiving a call from the medical clinic that needs to be transferred to your office phone. It’s highly important,” the man’s voice explained from the other side of the door.


“Permission granted,” Carmen sighed, rolling her eyes as she picked up the office phone. She pressed it against her ear, listening to the buzz as it reconnected.


:


Carmen had the phone pressed to her ear when Dr. Ana Tomic’s voice came through, sounding unusually tense. “Ms. Sandiego, this is Dr. Ana Tomic from the clinic. We’ve encountered a problem. Laverna was scheduled for an appointment today, but she never showed up.”


Carmen’s expression remained impassive, but her voice sharpened. “What do you mean, ‘never showed up’? Was she even there at all?”


“We checked our records,” Dr. Tomic continued, her voice laced with concern. “She was never checked in. No sign of her at the clinic, and none of our staff have seen her. We tried reaching her, but she’s not answering her phone. We’re worried.”


Carmen’s brow furrowed slightly, her eyes narrowing as she processed the information. “I’ll take care of it.”


Without another word, Carmen ended the call. She swiveled in her chair and began typing quickly on her computer, sending out alerts to her most trusted henchmen. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, her expression cool as she issued orders.


“Alert all units. Laverna is unaccounted for. No one leaves the city until she’s found. Check every known location, any safehouse, and all escape routes. Report back with any findings.”


She paused for a moment, then opened a private messaging channel, her eyes scanning the screen as she typed out a message directly to Laverna’s phone.


“Laverna. You’re late for your appointment. Where are you?”


She hit send, waiting a beat. Then another. Silence. No response.


Her jaw clenched, and she tapped the screen impatiently, her eyes scanning the empty message window. Nothing.


Carmen let out a sharp breath and hit a few more keys, sending a follow-up message, this time to a different encrypted channel. “Track her. I want every camera, every signal, every device. Find out where she is—now.”


With the orders sent, Carmen stood up, her gaze never leaving the screen. “She won’t get far,” she muttered to herself, her voice low and controlled. “Not in my city.”


Chief floated over, his digital mouth hanging open in disbelief. “What the…? That’s more security action than I’ve ever seen in my entire digital life. More than the President of the United States, more than Fort Knox!” He hovered beside her, projecting a slideshow of over-the-top security measures, complete with blinking red lights, laser grids, and vault doors.


Carmen leaned back in her chair, wickedly amused as she watched the digital presentation. She gave a sharp laugh, her eyes glinting with an almost dangerous delight. “She’s a baby,” Carmen admitted with a smirk, poking Chief’s cheek. “Not ready for the real world yet.”


Chief flinched at the poke, his head slightly wobbling before he regained his usual floating composure. “Well, baby or not, you’ve got more backups in place than the world’s most wanted criminal. How’d you even—”


Carmen didn’t let him finish. “I don’t just steal things, Chief. I’ve been preparing for this for 21 years.” She swiveled her chair back to her computer, fingers tapping away at the keys with a new urgency. “No one gets away from me—not even my own daughter.”

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 3:


Laverna picked up her pace, her playful skipping morphing into a full sprint. The text on her phone had delivered a gut-punch of reality: her absence hadn’t just been noticed—it was already triggering alarms.


Her eyes scanned the screen, the message making her heart race. Panic flickered across her face before she shoved it down. “Idiota,” she muttered under her breath, the Spanish word dripping with self-reproach. In one fluid motion, she tossed the phone into the shadows of a nearby alley. There was no way she’d reach the museum with the entire city likely mobilized against her.


But fear? That wasn’t in her DNA. She wasn’t some damsel caught in a game of cat and mouse. No, she was her mother’s daughter, and a good chase wasn’t something to dread—it was something to savor. A Sandiego lived for this kind of thrill.


She hoisted herself onto a rusted iron fire escape, the lattice of metal weaving into a precarious bridge over the alley. Staying on the ground was a figurative death sentence—the drumming of feet echoed in her proximity, closing in like a predator stalking prey.


Her Mary Janes clattered noisily on the grates, betraying her location with every hurried step. Laverna barely broke stride as she passed a security camera, throwing a cheeky middle finger toward the lens. “See you later, suckers!” she called, her laughter bouncing off the walls.


She knew the head of security was watching, tracking her every move with eerie precision. Every step she took was anticipated, every corner filmed, every maneuver predicted. But that only fueled her. Laverna thrived on the thrill of being hunted—and the satisfaction of outsmarting her pursuers.





Carmen was watching on a live feed in her office, a smile curving across her face as she analyzed her daughter’s split-second choices. How long could Laverna run? That was the question Carmen was dying to know.


Chief, hovering nearby, wondered why Carmen wasn’t getting into the action herself. She could easily shut this little rebellion down with a swift “Laverna Annalise Sandiego!!” being hollered from behind.


He watched, bafflement creasing his blonde brow as Carmen took a slow sip of coffee, adding just the right dash of vanilla cream. The patience in her eyes only deepened his confusion. What was she waiting for?


…….


Laverna gracefully leapt off the fire escape and landed on a rusty dumpster, her balance faltering for just a moment. She quickly regained her footing, moving with the precision of a cat burglar—one she was genetically built to be.


She jumped off the dumpster as soon as she spotted Moe Skeeter and Lars Vegas closing in on her, their expressions twisted with predatory glee.


“No wonder the boss finds this fun,” Lars muttered to Moe. Moe, ever the sidekick, nodded in agreement, like a third Stooge who had yet to make an entrance.


“No, dos idiotas suman uno, pero no soy yo el tercero.” Laverna complained, not wanting to be the third stooge.


She backed up, skillfully walking in reverse around the corner. She might have vanished from the two men, but not from the drone discreetly following her.


Lars and Moe were left scratching their heads in confusion.


She grumbled under her breath, glaring daggers at the relentless drone hovering behind her. Its mechanical whirring grated on her nerves, like nails on a chalkboard. How was she going to shake this thing? Her mind raced until her eyes landed on an open air vent, the faint neon glow of a pizzeria-slash-arcade spilling through. Perfect. Classic.


With one last glance at the drone, she darted for the vent, muttering, “Guess I’m on the menu tonight.”

 

[Jade]

“No, dos idiotas suman uno, pero no soy yo el tercero.” Laverna complained, not wanting to be the third stooge.

Translated from Spanish: No, two idiots add up to one, but I'm not the third.

 

[Laverna]

Translated from Spanish: No, two idiots add up to one, but I'm not the third.

Very good, Jade. Hope your enjoying the story.

 

[Jade]

Very good, Jade. Hope your enjoying the story.

so far, so good.

 

[Laverna]

so far, so good.

This is my paracosm. I write a chapter every day.

 

[Laverna]

:


Chapter 4:


Carmen chuckled when she realized where her daughter had chosen to hide—a tacky arcade she’d thrown together years ago for the kids of her henchmen and a few of her agents. At the time, it seemed harmless. An animatronic-themed pizzeria? Why not? Showbiz Pizza and Chuck E. Cheese were all the rage in the ‘80s. But now, knowing what she knew, she could see how unsettling the concept could be.


Laverna, glued to her tablet as always, had probably been playing the game for years and never mentioned it. Carmen sighed, shaking her head. In hindsight, creating her own animatronic deathtrap might not have been her best idea.


Laverna tumbled out of the ceiling vent, crashing onto the black-and-white checkerboard floor with a loud thud. Graceful? Not even close. She groaned as pain radiated through her body, but after a few moments, she managed to sit up, gasping for breath.


She glanced around, half-expecting panic, but the kids playing nearby didn’t even flinch. They were too absorbed in their sugar-fueled chaos, stuffing their faces with pizza and cake. A couple of them were celebrating a birthday, and the free-roaming animatronics performed their usual routines—clunkily dancing and waving to keep the party mood alive.


Laverna’s thoughts flickered back to her last birthday, spent here with Devlin. It had been an unconventional date night in the cheesy pizzeria, but the pizza had been perfect—piled high with pepperonis and jalapeños. Devlin had surprised her with a promise ring that night. She glanced down at the gold band with its small ruby, still snug on her finger. A faint smile crept onto her face despite the less-than-glamorous entrance.


Suddenly, an animatronic bear wearing a top hat and bowtie spotted her. It waddled over and waved its robotic paw. Laverna would’ve reassured her that she was fine, but before she could, the bear scooped her up and sat her in a nearby chair, all while maintaining its routine performance.


Then, with a mechanical whir, the bear disappeared.


The bear clunked back over to Laverna, holding a slice of pizza in its stiff, mechanical paw. It was her favorite—how did Mr. Teddy know? She hadn’t ordered it. Was this some kind of animatronic mind-reading trick? The memory of her birthday, just a few months ago in October, flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t quite figure out why the bear would remember. Along with the pizza, there was a Sprite in a sippy cup (too clean to be trusted) and a handful of arcade tokens.


The bear waved, its movements jerky and a little too exaggerated, like it was trying extra hard to seem friendly. Laverna raised an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks, I guess?” She waved back but eyed the pizza suspiciously, wondering if this was some kind of animatronic prank. Was it going to spring to life and try to steal her lunch? Or maybe it was just trying to get her to spend more tokens?


She grabbed the slice carefully, inspecting it for any signs of sabotage. Then, she took a tentative bite. “If I end up with a glitch, I’m blaming you,” she muttered, glaring at the bear. The bear stared back, blinking in that weird, offbeat way, but remained silent—because, of course, it was just a machine pretending to be friendly.


.Laverna devoured her pizza with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn’t eaten all day. It was so delicious, she could almost hear a cheesy soundtrack playing in the background. She took a sip of her drink, letting out a contented sigh, but then—oh no!—she slipped into a moment of pure idleness. What a great idea, right? She was supposed to be on the run, but instead, she got distracted.


Little did she know, the clock was ticking. The place was closing down for the night, but Laverna was too absorbed in her skeeball game. Her favorite arcade game, where the ball swished through the hundred-point hole with the precision of a professional. She was on fire.


In the meantime, her mother and the entire criminal organization were hot on her trail. If only Laverna had remembered that little detail. But hey, why waste time on such things when there were high scores to chase and neon lights to admire?


Suddenly, the lights went out, plunging the arcade into darkness. Laverna blinked, her green eyes narrowing in confusion. “Hey, turn off the lights,” she grumbled, clearly irritated, as if she’d been interrupted mid-thrill. Without missing a beat, she quickly swiped the pile of tickets hanging from the arcade machine, stuffing them into her vest pocket with the grace of a seasoned ticket thief. 250 tickets, to be precise, which she folded with meticulous care—just enough to fit inside the hidden pocket of the vest’s secret compartment.


She glanced around, trying to shake off the creeping feeling of something strange happening. Her eyes flicked toward the stage, where the animatronics were eerily creeping back into the shadows. The bear— that bear—was trying to drag her under the stage, its mechanical claws reaching for her. But Laverna just shook her head, confused. “Nope. Not today, buddy,” she muttered, completely uninterested in whatever horror show was going on behind the scenes. She had tickets to collect, and an entire criminal organization to avoid—priorities, right?


To avoid being kicked out onto the streets, Laverna snuck into the employee area and quickly grabbed a security guard uniform. The purple design resembled an old-timey police outfit, a strange throwback to a different era. She pulled her hair back into a quick ponytail using an elastic that just happened to be lying around, then slipped into the security office. Now posing as the security guard, she hoped to keep her mother out, but she hadn’t accounted for the animatronic fiends lurking in the background.


Meanwhile, Carmen only had view access to the outside of New Vile Haven’s impressive buildings, but she had made up her mind—she was going to bring her child home herself. Little did she know, she would have to outsmart her own daughter. With the precision of a seasoned master thief, Carmen slipped into the arcade through the vent, her movements as fluid and silent as a shadow. She landed effortlessly on her feet, barely making a sound, her every step calculated and controlled. She was no amateur—getting to Laverna would be a game she was more than prepared to win.


Back in the office, Laverna pressed the intercom button with a smirk. “Hey, no fair. Just what I needed on my first shift as a security guard—a lousy thief. Come and get me.” Her voice was dripping with mischief as she taunted her mother, her fingers effortlessly moving the cameras to check on other parts of the pizzeria. She wasn’t worried. After all, she’d been trained to outmaneuver the best—especially when it came to her own family. The thrill of the chase was just beginning.


The fan buzzed softly in the background as Laverna reached over and gave the cupcake animatronic’s nose a gentle squeeze. It made a high-pitched “squeak,” and she giggled to herself, amused by the simple, childish joy of it. Her eyes flicked to the kitchen, where the animatronic chicken was clunking its way toward the back. Laverna rolled her eyes, smirking. This is just like the game on my tablet, she thought, except with one extra opponent.


She was grateful that the pizzeria didn’t have some weird power generator like the game, so she didn’t have to worry about the lights going out or frantically clicking the mouse in panic. But she didn’t have much time to relax. She heard the familiar sound of footsteps growing closer, and her heart quickened.


Her mother was sneaking closer, and Laverna wasted no time. I can’t let her catch me this easily. With a quick motion, she slammed the security door shut just as Carmen entered the hallway. The sound echoed through the pizzeria, and Laverna couldn’t help but smirk at the sound of her mother’s frustrated grunt. Let the games begin.


This continued for what felt like hours—stopping animatronics in their tracks, shutting off lights to throw off the sensors, and sending random taunts over the intercom. Laverna was in her element, playing the game of cat and mouse with her mother as if she’d done this a thousand times before. The pizzeria’s chaotic atmosphere was nothing compared to the games she played in her mind. She expertly manipulated the cameras, made quick, decisive moves, and laughed off every failed attempt her mother made to catch her.


By the time the clock struck 5 AM, Laverna leaned back in her chair, confident she had won. The lights dimmed in the arcade, and the animatronics had been stuck in their programmed routines for hours now. Her mother’s presence was nowhere to be seen on the security feed. It was all over. Laverna felt a wave of satisfaction wash over her—this time, I outsmarted her.


But as she surveyed the empty monitors, a chill crawled down her spine. Where did she go? Laverna’s fingers hovered over the mouse, instinctively checking the cameras again, but there was no trace of her mother. Not in the hall, not in the corridors, not even in the back rooms. It was as if Carmen had vanished.


This isn’t right, Laverna thought, her stomach dropping. A creeping unease settled over her, and she began to glance around the security room, her green eyes narrowing. The silence felt too heavy. She leaned forward in her chair, trying to listen for any footsteps, any sound that might signal her mother’s approach.


Suddenly, a cold hand shot out from the shadows, clamping tightly over her mouth, silencing her before she could even react. Laverna froze, her blood running cold as the realization hit her like a freight train. She’s here. Her mother had been in the room the entire time, sneaking up behind her, and Laverna hadn’t noticed.


Before she could even struggle, Carmen’s grip tightened, and the world around her seemed to spin. Laverna’s mind raced, but it was too late. The game was over. She had lost.


Five nights at Freddy’s.

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 5


Laverna was helpless, tightly bound in her mother’s coat and slung over Carmen’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The scarf stuffed in her mouth stifled any protest. She’d expected to be dragged by her ear or wrist, maybe throwing a tantrum while scraping her shoes against the floor. Instead, she was treated like a prisoner—like she was being shipped off to the black market.


When they reached the car, Carmen carefully set Laverna in the passenger seat, removing the gag and brushing her hair aside before kissing her forehead, as though she were still a child. Laverna stared at her, confused. She knew she was in trouble, but being carried like that had been humiliating enough.


Carmen untied her swiftly, but Laverna stayed silent. How could she explain it? Why she’d avoided the doctor’s office, refused to open the security door, or why she’d lied. None of it made sense, even to her.


“Now,” Carmen said, breaking the silence with a faint smirk, “I bet it’s exciting to be stolen by the world’s greatest thief.”


Laverna wasn’t amused. Exhausted, she slumped in the seat, her face a mix of irritation and defeat. Within minutes, her body surrendered to sleep.


Carmen glanced at her as she drove, her features softening. She remembered her own early heists—days that stretched into sleepless marathons of action and adrenaline. Back then, the crash always came hard, leaving her ravenous and sleeping for days. Laverna hadn’t learned those tricks yet. She hadn’t stocked up on calories or caffeine—just pure rebellion running on fumes.


As her daughter’s quiet giggles escaped in her sleep, Carmen reached over instinctively to check her pulse. Her heart skipped when it felt faint under her fingertips. Muttering a curse, she pulled the car to the side of the road and leaned over to press her fingers to Laverna’s neck again.


“Come on… just beat,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the engine’s hum.


The pulse was steady but weak. Carmen exhaled deeply, brushing back Laverna’s hair. Just a deep sleep, she thought. Nothing to panic over.


When they arrived at their house—far from the bustle of New VILE Haven—the gravel crunched beneath the car tires. Most imagined Carmen Sandiego living in a grand mansion or luxurious penthouse. Instead, she had taken the old orphanage she grew up in and transformed it into her retreat—a place of quiet comfort that suited her far more than any castle ever could.


As the car came to a stop, a young redheaded man with long hair tied in a ponytail rushed out. His eyes locked with Carmen’s, brimming with concern. Without a word, he stepped forward and carefully scooped Laverna into his arms, holding her as if she might shatter.


Carmen lingered, watching him for a moment before heading inside, her crimson coat trailing behind. She had other things to handle—the Chief needed an update, and the search party had to be called off.


Devlin carried Laverna inside, humming the bridal march under his breath. Carmen held the door open, arching a brow at his antics.


“It’s a little early for that, Mr. Sandiego,” she teased, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.


Devlin didn’t flinch at her erasing his last name—it was all part of the dynamic. “Heck no,” he shot back with a grin. “I’m Mr. Crooks. Shouldn’t she be Mrs. Crooks?”


He laid Laverna gently on the couch, his gaze soft as he admired her sleeping face. Carefully, he lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers. A faint smile tugged at her lips in her sleep, her heart fluttering even in dreams.


Before the moment could linger, Carmen swatted Devlin’s backside with a clipboard. “Sir, she needs to rest,” she said, her tone sharp but amused.


Devlin winced, rubbing the spot where she’d struck. “Can’t a man have a little romance?” he muttered.


Carmen shot him a knowing look, one brow arched. “Not on my watch.”


With that, she retreated to her bedroom, leaving the two of them alone. She had work to do—her old friend Chief needed an update, and it was time to officially close this chapter of their chaos

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 6:


With Carmen safely out of sight, Devlin’s grin widened. He scooped Laverna up once more, cradling her limp form like a mischievous villain plotting his next move. His mad doctor instincts began to stir, a playful glint in his eyes.


“She needs rest,” he muttered, carrying her toward his lab. “But where’s the fun in that?”


The door to his underground workspace hissed open, revealing a maze of sleek, sterilized counters and softly glowing monitors. The faint hum of machinery was a comforting backdrop as Devlin gently placed Laverna on an examination table. For a moment, he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair from her face.


“She’ll thank me later,” he assured himself with a chuckle, ignoring the rational voice in his head screaming let her sleep, you idiot.


A few shots of adrenaline, a carefully concocted mix of healing chemicals, and some saline fluid for good measure—how hard could it be? His fingers danced over the vials and syringes, the sparkle of mischief in his eyes growing brighter.


“Trust me,” he whispered to her unconscious form, his voice dripping with mock gravity. “This is going to be one for the history books.”


He dragged his IV machine out of the closet. The closet was stuffed with medical supplies, first aid kits, and many other questionable items. As he pulled the machine forward, the wheels snagged on something, sending a cascade of belongings clattering to the floor.


Some awards from his online schooling, a Boy Scout manual, and pieces of sentimental memorabilia scattered across the ground. A Make-A-Wish Foundation t-shirt and St. Jude’s merchandise landed on top of the pile, their brightly colored logos stark against the sterile white floor.


Devlin froze, his grin faltering. For a moment, the hum of his lab faded, replaced by the ghost of a hospital room—beeping monitors, the metallic scent of disinfectant, and the suffocating weight of uncertainty.


With a sigh, he crouched down, carefully gathering the items. His fingers brushed the edge of a framed certificate, the glass cracked from the fall. He stared at it for a beat longer than necessary, his gaze softening. “For Outstanding Achievement in Biochemistry,” it read in elegant, printed letters.


“Funny,” he muttered under his breath, setting it aside. “They handed me that the same year they thought I wouldn’t make it.”


He picked up the Make-A-Wish shirt next, smoothing out the wrinkles with deliberate care. The fabric was soft and worn, a relic from a lifetime ago. His lips twitched into a faint smile. They really thought a trip to a science lab would make up for everything.


Shaking off the memories, Devlin shoved the items back into the closet with practiced efficiency. The IV machine rattled as he wheeled it toward the examination table.


“Alright, Laverna,” he said, forcing the grin back onto his face. “Let’s see what kind of magic I can work.”





Laverna was awake now. She sat up on the examination table, kicking her feet idly, the heels of her shoes tapping softly against the metal. The motion reminded Devlin of restless kids he’d seen in waiting rooms when he was younger. Unlike them, though, Laverna didn’t have even a flicker of fear about what was coming.


“Dev, I don’t like what you’re planning,” she snarled, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the lab. Her sharp glare locked onto him, her teeth bared in irritation.


Devlin only laughed, unbothered by the venom in her tone. “Babe, you’re exhausted. It’s just IV fluids—salt water. Completely harmless.” He held up the saline bag with a grin, as if it were the most innocuous thing in the world.


“That’s what all doctors say,” Laverna shot back, crossing her arms like a stubborn teenager refusing a lecture. She leaned back slightly, her brows furrowed in suspicion.


When Devlin reached for her arm, she squirmed away, pulling herself further back on the table. “Don’t tell me you developed a fear of needles,” he teased, exasperation lacing his voice as he lunged to grab her again.


“Get off!” she barked, trying to wriggle free, but Devlin was quicker. He pinned her down with ease, the mischievous gleam in his eyes brightening. An evil grin stretched across his face, the dimples only making him look more insufferably smug.


“You’re only making this harder on yourself,” he drawled, his tone almost sing-song as he expertly secured her arm.


Laverna groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”


“Guilty as charged,” Devlin replied with a laugh, prepping the IV with practiced precision.


She tried to fight him off, but exhaustion dulled her usual reflexes. In a moment of distraction, Devlin slipped the butterfly needle into the back of her hand, taping it down with expert care. She hissed softly at the sting.


“You’re a menace,” Laverna muttered, glaring at him.


Devlin grinned as he kissed the back of her hand—mockingly dramatic, but with a lingering tenderness that softened the gesture. “A menace who keeps you alive, sweetheart. Remember that next time you’re plotting your escape.”


Laverna opened her mouth for another snarky retort but froze when she caught the look in his eyes. His usual teasing light dimmed for just a moment as he adjusted the IV machine, his gaze lingering on the line running to her hand.


“You know,” he murmured, quieter now, “it’s funny how things turn out.”


Laverna tensed, already knowing where this was going. “Dev…”


He waved her off, his grin faltering but holding its shape. “What? It’s true. I shouldn’t be here right now—wouldn’t be, if not for your mother.”


Laverna’s jaw tightened. “You mean if not for the deal.”


Devlin laughed softly, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Sure. Call it what it was—a deal. Carmen pays for every treatment, every hospital bill, saves my life… and in return, I’m promised to her daughter. ‘Your future husband,’” he added with a dramatic flourish, his voice dripping with mock gravitas.


Laverna scowled at him. “You don’t have to act like it’s some great honor.”


“Laverna,” Devlin said, sobering slightly, “I know how it sounds. That I was some sick kid traded off like a bargaining chip.” He paused, his blue eyes locking onto hers, unwavering. “But if it meant surviving to stand here—with you—then I wouldn’t change a thing.”


Laverna glanced away, her stubborn silence betraying how deeply his words hit. After a beat, she muttered, “You make it sound like I’m worth all that trouble.”


“You are,” Devlin said simply, his smile turning softer—genuine this time. “Besides, it’s not like we hate each other. That would’ve been a nightmare.”


“Speak for yourself,” Laverna grumbled, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her.


Devlin snorted, grabbing a stool to sit beside her while the IV hummed quietly. “You can pretend all you want, but we both know the truth. You’re stuck with me, and I’m not complaining.”


Laverna gave him a long, hard look, as if weighing her response. Finally, she sighed, slumping back onto the table. “You’re still annoying.”


“And you’re still my favorite part of that deal,” Devlin replied, his grin returning full force.


Laverna groaned again, covering her face with her free hand. “Hopeless. You’re absolutely hopeless.”


“Hopelessly devoted, babe. Now sit back and let the fluids do their work.”


Laverna’s breaths had evened out, her form peaceful on the lab table. Devlin smirked to himself, brushing a stray strand of crimson hair from his face. A mild sedative—just enough to keep her under for the next 24 hours. Exactly what the doctor ordered. His heavy Doc Martens squeaked against the basement’s laminated floor as he moved toward his workbench.


“Now then,” he murmured, his voice bubbling with glee as he reached for a set of glass vials. “I’ve got a new strain of acid to perfect before Monday.” A low, gleeful chuckle escaped him, tinged with his signature madness. “A mad doctor’s work is never done.”


The soft hum of machinery filled the room as Devlin’s focus sharpened, but his gaze flickered back to Laverna every so often. His amusement was edged with something softer, something unspoken.


The steady beeping of the IV tugged at his memories, unearthing the familiar echoes of hospital machines that once marked the rhythm of his days. Those memories had shaped him—why he donated a portion of his salary to charities like St. Jude’s and Make-A-Wish. He wanted no child to endure what he had. After all, not every child was lucky enough to have Carmen Sandiego on their side.

 

[Laverna]

Chapter 7:


Time passed, and Laverna’s escape became little more than a forgotten incident, easily dismissed by most of those involved. Life went on, as it always did. After some hesitation, Laverna finally made her way to the check-up with Dr. Ana Tonic, dragging her feet the entire way. The doctor, as always, found nothing physically wrong with her. But then again, what could she have found? Everything looked normal on the surface.


Laverna left the appointment with a root beer-flavored lollipop, the sweetness of it a stark contrast to the emptiness she still felt. There was no real answer, no resolution, just another day to get through, another moment to pretend everything was fine.


ACME Detective Agency had finally reunited with Chief, their lovable AI floating head. Oddly, Chief seemed reluctant to leave Carmen’s side, as if some strange bond had formed during their time apart. But, as with all things, the fun had to end. Carmen, ever the mastermind, would undoubtedly steal him back at some point—but when? Well, that was a mystery for another day.


The player was still offline, and the world continued without their usual pursuit. Normally, the player would be hot on Carmen’s trail, playing the game to catch her and foil her plans. But with them absent, most went about their business, unaware of the shift. Only Carmen seemed to feel the absence, her mind wandering to the strange quiet left in the wake of the player’s silence. It wasn’t that she needed the player’s interference—Carmen was always one step ahead. But something about their absence felt… off. The chase had always been part of the thrill. For now, everything continued as planned, but Carmen couldn’t help but wonder: when would the player return to the game?





Laverna returned home to a quiet house, the kind of stillness that only came when Carmen was off on one of her countless heists. The house, usually brimming with the hum of activity and the tension of their secretive lives, felt almost peaceful in its absence. Laverna dropped her bag by the door, her eyes scanning the space as though expecting something—or someone—to burst in with an urgent mission.


Instead, she found Devlin, who was busy tinkering with some gadget in the living room. His red hair was messier than usual, and he didn’t even look up when she entered. That was Devlin for you—always lost in his work. He didn’t need to speak to know she was home.


“How was the doctor?” he asked absently, continuing to fiddle with the small device in his hands.


Laverna sighed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Same as always. No answers. Just… another check-up.”


Devlin glanced up briefly, his dimples showing as he gave her a knowing look. “Well, at least you got a lollipop out of it. Not all bad, right?”


Laverna rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed. “Root beer-flavored, if you must know.”


With a quick wink, Devlin set the device down and stood, walking over to Laverna. He kissed her on the cheek, a gesture that had become as familiar to her as the house itself. They didn’t need to say much. With Carmen away, they had the house to themselves, a rare and cherished moment of peace.


For a few minutes, they simply stood there, side by side, letting the quiet wash over them. The usual noise of their chaotic lives was absent, leaving room for the small, comforting sounds of the house settling. The kitchen clock ticked steadily in the background, and the faint hum of electricity buzzed in the walls. It was peaceful in a way they hadn’t experienced in ages.


Devlin finally broke the silence, his voice low and thoughtful. “It’s weird without her here, isn’t it? No surprise plans, no sudden alarms going off, no Carmen barging in with something dangerous to do.”


Laverna chuckled. “I never thought I’d miss it. But yeah, it’s strange.”


She could almost hear Carmen’s voice in her head, a constant mix of mischief and authority, always with something up her sleeve. It felt like the air itself was waiting for her to return.


Devlin moved toward the kitchen, already back to his usual restless self. “Well, while we have the place to ourselves, we might as well make the most of it. Want to experiment with some new tech?” His eyes gleamed, that familiar spark of curiosity and mischief lighting up his face.


Laverna grinned. “Only if we can make something explode.”


Devlin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Now you’re speaking my language.”


As they moved into their makeshift lab, the house hummed with life once again, filled with the sounds of their tinkering and the rare sense of calm that came when Carmen wasn’t around to keep them on their toes. But even in this quiet, Laverna knew—it wouldn’t last. Carmen would be back, and things would return to their usual chaotic rhythm.


Until then, they had this. And for now, that was enough.