City of IF

[misterbiz]

This is where you introduce you heroes to the rest of the group. Now this can be: A nice little battle between the hero and their enemy (preferably with the villain escaping), The discovering of their superpowers, their first night as a hero or there first run-in with their arch-enemy or anything your little heart desires.

If you are going to include your chosen nemesis, let me know first so I can give you some personality info, fighting style and a better description (If one is required) so you can use them efficiently.

The only rules that I have for it is you main power must be utilized once as well as any of your weakness. You can demonstrate all your minor powers if you want or none. Same goes with all of your weaknesses. You can show all or just the one.

And before you say that I didn't show any of the hero's weaknesses...I didn't. But I did list a couple weaknesses for the villains.

Now, what are your Origins?

[misterbiz]

Outside a storm was brewing. Thunder roared and lightning cracked the sky. It was the perfect weather for a secret meeting. Sitting at a table in a darkened warehouse were seven men. Eight men who had not sat together for a very long time. It had been over two years since they last sat together and shared looks of shared mania. One by one their eyes fell on the single empty chair that sat amongst them.

Mr. R was late. He had a tendency of being so back when regular meetings were held amongst the men. Then again, when you walk in between dimensions, your sense of time can probably be thrown off a few notches. There was a flash of light and out of what appeared to be a glowing door, stepped a man dressed in a Victorian era suit and bowler. His face was completely covered by a skin-tight black mask with a large R on the forehead. A pair of glowing violet, violent eyes peered out. The glowing door vanished and Mr. R took his place at the table.

“Good,” a gurgled voice said at the end. Everyone's eyes scanned the table and landed on a figure clad in a tattered and torn shirt with horizontal black and whit stripes. His face was hidden under a gas mask that looked and sounded like it was filled with water. This image was framed by long black hair that appeared to be constantly drenched. “We are all here. Now which one of you saps insisted that we meet now. After two years.”

The men all sat in confusion, they murmured to each other and whispered until eventually one stood up. It was a tall man dressed in coveralls. A green bandana was wrapped around his face covering his mouth. His eyes covered by a domino mask. As he stood, the faint sound of buzzing could be heard. Such a sound always hung around Locust. It was one of the few drawbacks of being able to turn into a swarm. You usually sounded like one.

“We thought it was you summoning us, after all. We had heard that your brother woke up. Thought maybe he's getting out. That it was time for the gang to ride again.”

“Trap,” the man in the drowning mask gurgled. “Heroes.”

“Nope,” a voice echoed from around the room. Out of the shadows above, a figure dropped down onto the table and aimed a handgun at Locust's head and another one at Drowner, the wet man at the end. “I wouldn't call myself a hero.”

The individual was dressed in a set of what appeared to be black leather armor, accentuated with lines of red on his sides, in along his boots and down his arms. On the front of his chest, was a dark red zero. His face was hidden behind a mask of black steel. There were a couple spots glowing white, clearly the eyeholes. On the front of the mask was the same image on his chest.

“You ain't that bright, are you, sport?” a fire said at the other end of the table. A smallish person in a vest with vibrant purple and green hair. “I mean there are eight of us and one of you and we ain't exactly the hospitipitable...hos...nice to strangers.”

“You are gonna want to listen to me,” the intruder said. “Because I've got a message for you about your boss.”

“No, I've got something to tell you about him,” Drowner said. “He'd want us to waste you. Get him.”

Before the intruder could move of them could move, the intruder felt a slight tingle in his brain. Mindset. However, a bright glow surrounded the man in black instead. His body was taking the damage meant to be done and stored it within him. He turned a pistol on him and fired a shot, the bullet ricocheted. Swapping targets, the armored damage-absorber turned to Mackey as he approached and clocked him in the jaw, sending him flying at least twenty feet, before spinning and firing at Drowner. The bullet missed but only barely. Drowner took a leap out of the way and the intruder followed him. As he moved toward them, he could hear a loud buzzing start to surround him. “Nice try.” One of the swarm made contact and a slight electrical charge was sent through all of them. They dropped to the ground and reassembled into Locust. He looked down and waved at him.

“Built in bugzapper,” he said with a laugh. Turning to follow Drowner, he immediately punched the air next to him. “Thermal vision.”

He started to race after Drowner, stopping only to kick Mr. R in the face as he tried to block the back exit with a portal to another realm. He stayed after Drowner and stopped right at the waters edge.

Out in the middle of the ocean, Drowner was standing on a tower of water. The intruder cracked his neck and stared up at him.

“I didn't come to fight you.”

“Strange thing to say, since you seem to have all our weaknesses accounted for. What's your message?”

“Voltage is going to be released. Or he will escape. I will ensure either one of those. I want you to tell him I helped,” the man in black ordered.

“Why would you want to do something like that? You don't seem like the one to want a villain out of prison.”

“I don't want him free so he can continue his work. I want him free so I can kill him. That's what I'm going to do. You and your goon squad are going to let me or I will kill you too.”

Drowner laughed. “I guess I'll humor you, if Voltage shows up who should I say is going to do this.”

The intruder started to walk away. “When he comes, tell him Kid Zero is ready to take his head.”

In the warehouse district of Savage City, a storm started to brew.

[Tikanni Corazon]

“Well, your latest tests have come back negative, Champ, so it looks like you should be able to home in the next couple of days.”

Doctor Adamson reached out a hand and ruffled the boy's hair with a warm smile. Petra watched, her own lips tilting upwards at the scene. The boy, Michael, grinned back at the tall man messing up his slightly over-long jet black locks, showing off the gap where he'd recently lost the left of his two front teeth.

“You mean it?” Michael said, his expression gleeful. “I can actually go home?”

Doctor Adamson nodded.

“As long as nothing happens over the next two to three days, I'd say it's pretty much a definite,” he replied, then gestured to Petra. “But then, that's what happens when you have the best doctor in the hospital looking after you.”

He winked at Petra, who gave a short laugh, then he turned to leave. He paused by the door and looked back at the boy.

“You just stay out of trouble now, okay?” he said, before shooting Petra a smile and exiting the room.

Petra waved after him, then turned back to Michael. The eleven year old was regarding her with amusement, his arms folded across his bony chest.

“What?” Petra asked, looking at him in a slightly baffled manner as she picked up his chart.

“He likes you,” Michael replied, a huge grin appearing on his face.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Petra said with a laugh. “We're just collegues, that's all.”

Michael shook his head.

“Nuh-uh,” he said firmly. “I can tell.”

“Look...” Petra paused, searching for something to say next that would put an end to the conversation, before her cheeks got so warm that the blush upon them would be noticable. “...What the hell do you know about stuff like that anyway?” She knew it was a crap come-back, but she'd been unable to think of anything better. Michael smiled triumphantly, but said nothing more.

Petra scribbled a few note on the boy's chart, then returned it to it's place at the foot of the bed.

“Right, Mr Matchmaker, you get some rest now. You don't want to exhaust yourself into a few more days stuck in this place now, do you?”

She reached out and squeezed Michael's hand, shooting him a smile. He returned both and nodded that he would do as she said. He looked down at their joined hands, feeling them warm slightly. He glanced back up at Petra, the gleam in his eyes knowing. He knew she wasn't a normal doctor.

“Night Champ,” Petra said quietly, aware that she didn't need to be worried. Michael wouldn't tell anyone her secret.

~~~

Petra exited the hospital, feeling a little tired after working for thirteen hours straight. She'd not been set to work that long, but she'd wanted to find out the results of Michael's tests before leaving, so she'd waited around an extra couple of hours, giving her patients a little over-time care.


She made her way across the car park towards her car, fumbling in her coat pocket for her keys. The air was chilly around her, and the night had reduced the earth to shadows. Most people might find such an atmosphere a little unnerving, but not Petra. The shadows were her friends. She'd learned that a long time ago. One of the positives she'd taken from being bullied at school.


She reached the midnight-blue Mini and unlocked the door, then opened it in one smooth motion, tossing her handbag onto the opposite seat, before taking her place on the drivers side and slamming the door gently behind her. As she started up the engine, she happened to glance across the street and frowned as a shaped quickly disappeared into a nearby alleyway. She paused for a moment, wondering if she should go and investigate, then shrugged, reversing out of her parking space and exiting the car park, heading for home.


She let out a sigh; meaningless other than to reflect her wish to get home and settle down with a cup of tea. She flicked on the radio and grimaced as some rap garbage erupted from the speakers. She switched to the CD player and sighed again, this time in contentment, as she allowed her senses to relax and become drawn in by the creamy, male voice serenading her, and the gentle yet potent rhythm of the music itself.

“But it ain't long before I long for you...like a ray of hope coming through the blue...” She sang along, her smooth, pretty voice matching reasonably well alongside the lead-singer. “When it all gets dark again...the whole thing falls apart I guess...Doesn't really matter 'bout the rain...'cause we'll get through it anyway...We'll get up and start again, 'cause we will be lifted...lifted...lifted...'Cause we will be lifted...from the shadows...liiiifteeed!”

The last part, sang with huge enthusiasm, was followed quickly by an uncharacteristic scream, as a shape ran out in front of Petra's car. A loud thump and cracking glass filled her ears alongside her own panicked shriek as the form hit the bumper, crashed into the windscreen and fell backwards once again, onto the road in front of the car and out of her view.

“...Shit!”

Petra threw open the door of the car and rushed around to the front to help the person she'd hit.

“Oh god!” she cried, stooping down next to the form of what could only be a child. A boy. “Oh god, oh god! Please be okay!” The boy was clearly alive and whimpering. He looked up at her with frightened, accusing eyes, and Petra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Michael! What are you doing out here?!” She looked over his bloodied form as she shrugged out of her coat and went to place it over the injured boy. Like mist, he dissolved before her very eyes, and instantly Petra was on alert.

“Illusion Master...” she breathed, looking all around her for her nemesis.

She got to her feet, turning in each and every direction, searching for the force behind the vision. Her eyes caught and fixed upon the form of the boy again, now standing on the other side of the road, some ten feet away, a smug smile fixed upon his lips. She glared at Michael, then started looking around again.

“You dismiss that which is right before your very eyes so quickly...” The boy's voice was dual toned, his familiar one mixed with a deeper male voice.

He tilted his head to one side, regarding her, even as the vision of Michael melted away, revealing the Illusion Master in his place, the stark white of his suit and cloak contrasting with the darkness around them. The theatrical mask covering his visage was the one signifying tragedy, the steel surface glinting in the light of the full moon above them. Even from where she stood, Petra could hear the manic mumbling exuding from his lips, and see the unnatural gleam of his eyes looking out at her through the eye-holes of the mask.


Instantly, she melted into the shadows, becoming one with them. Her vision changed to a world of black and grey, though the Illusion Master's suit still showed up as unnaturally white. Her day-clothes melted away, replaced instantly with the skintight cat-suit and lightweight armour she wore in battle as she reappeared. The material clung to her curves, so flexible that it felt like a second skin. The tiny moonstones dotting the edges of her armour plates shone slightly in the moonlight, as she approached her enemy, the one marking the centre of the mask covering the upper part of her face glowing brightly as it drew in power.


She mentally put up her mind shield as she came to a halt some five feet away from him, to prevent any of his illusions getting through to her. She half expected the man before her to disappear, and was surprised when he didn't. The Illusion Master himself was stood within striking distance, and Petra was ready for him.

“Shadow-Dancer...” The name hissed from his lips, a strange longing behind the words. Petra knew only too well what the Illusion Master desired. Her sanity...her defeat. “I know not why you bother with this charade...I know who you are, after all.” Though she'd blocked him from getting into her head, Petra could feel the smug aura exuding from him. “...I've known for a long time...haven't I?”

He began to mutter and mumble under his breath again, the quiet, unfathomable words taking on a gleeful tone at the clear taunting he'd sent her way...words reminding her of all that he'd taken from her, yet admitting nothing at the same time. Still she was left to merely suspect him.


Before her enemy could react, Petra flew at him, leaping into the air and landing a hard kick in the side of his head, followed by a punch in the throat before spinning away and disappearing into the shadows again, her form joining with them in a seamless union. The Illusion Master let out a groan, though not one that wholly represented pain. Pleasure rang throughout his tone, something that Petra had come to expect during their battles. It almost made her cringe.


“Is that all you have for me?” His voice sounded disappointed. “Come along now, you can't leave it at that. Hit me more...”


Silently, Petra summoned her twin blades from the darkness around her, her Shadow-Swords. Gripping one in either hand, she obliged the Illusion Master's request, reappearing and striking hard and fast. This time though he was ready for her. Knowing that he was unable to penetrate her mind while it was shielded, he drew a sword of his own from a scabbard at his hip, meeting her blades hit for hit. His manic laughter filled the air around them; clearly he was enjoying himself immensely.


Petra suddenly felt a hard, sharp pain in her gut as one of his legs swung up and caught her unawares. She slammed against a nearby building, and instantly he was there pinning her against the brickwork. His hands, now free of his own weapon, held her wrists tightly, the rest of his weight holding her in place. For a moment she was shocked into both silence and immobility. His eyes were inches from her face, and he did nothing more than hold her there, staring at her. The unnatural gleam was unnerving, as was the frantic, unintelligible whispering. By some miracle, she managed to keep her mind-shield in place, though she was beginning to feel the effects of keeping his illusions at bay. Fatigue had started to enter her limbs and her mind felt a little hazy.

“What do you want with me?” she asked quietly, noting the halt in his breathy mutterings. “You sought me out tonight...why?”

“I thought you deserved a little attention...” came the hissed reply. “You've been working so hard today after all...taking care of Michael...”

A slight emphasis was put upon the name, and a ball of anxiety suddenly took up residence in Petra's gut.

“What do you know about Michael?” she said, her mouth going dry.

“What DON'T I know about Michael,” came the reply. “Such a sweet young man...he was so looking forward to going home...”

“Was?” Petra began to struggle, managing to knee the Illusion Master in the crotch, resulting in a groan of relished pain. “What do you mean 'was'?”

He regained his composure and merely shrugged, standing tall, proud and unnervingly silent. Petra shook her head, not wanting to believe the threat in his manner and previous words, willing it to be just a ruse to upset her and make her put her guard down. But she couldn't risk that being the case. Giving her enemy one last hate-filled glare, she turned and pelted back to her car. She started up the engine, hearing it roar into life alongside the Illusion Master's manic laughter. She did a speedy u-turn and headed back towards the hospital, the sound following her long after he'd left her sight. Dread welled in her stomach.

“It's not true...it can't be,” she said as she re-entered the car park. She got out and began to run towards the building, melding with the shadows for a moment to regain her previous garb before entering. She headed to the childrens ward, bumping into Doctor Adamson in her haste. Looking up into his eyes, she found she needed to go no further to get her answers, his sorrow filled gaze telling her everything. Unable to help herself, Petra broke down and began to cry.

~~~

“Something must have got lodged in his throat...”

Doctor Adamson's words were quiet, but potent with the sadness he felt. All of the staff had grown close to the friendly, happy little boy that Michael had been, and many tears had been shed that night.

“...We'll know more after the autopsy, of course...” he continued, his voice numb. “But yeah, that's the theory...he choked to death...”

'Your theory is bullshit,' Petra thought to herself, swiping away another unbidden tear. She knew the truth, and she would make the culprit pay dearly for his actions if it was the last thing she ever did.

[Seraphi]

“It’s been almost two years, Milly. You can’t keep blaming yourself.”

Camille snorted and continued looking out the window. It was slightly overcast today, making it harder to absorb the sunlight. Ignoring the man, she concentrated on stretching her hair, the thin green vine-like tendrils that sprouted from her head, closer to the window, allowing the single yellow blossom there to bask in the glow peeking from behind the clouds.

“Are you listening to me?”

She waited a few moments before answering.

“Yes,” she sighed, turning, her hair still reaching towards the sky.

The man, Doctor Harmond, who was like a second father to her and had been a friend of the family since before she was born, gave her a look of disbelief. Frowning, Camille walked away from the window and took a seat behind her desk. She picked up the water bottle there and took a long drink, retracting the tendrils of her hair back into her head as she did so. As soon as the vines hanging from her scalp were only a few inches long, she ceased her drinking and grabbed the long scarf thrown over the back of her chair, beginning to wrap it around her head.

“So, what is it you want?”

He had taken to visiting her at her office at the university more recently, most notably after some of her exploits had made it into the paper. He was worried, though she wished he would worry less about her and more about himself. He was old, wrinkled, and had a limp. And in the past few months had been prone to having minor heart attacks. Camille tried to ignore the nagging thought that this might be her fault.

“I want you to stop. How will all this…this vigilante nonsense bring back your father?!”

“It won’t. And I don’t expect it to.”

“Then why? You need to stop rooting yourself in the past.”

She paused in her wrapping and smiled.

“Was that a plant pun?”

“It was unintentional…” he mumbled, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. He shook his head wearily and refocused himself. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“You asked why?” Camille tucked the end of the scarf under the fold at the base of her head to hold the covering in place and stood, patting the wrinkles from the skirt of her dress. “Because Locust will get what’s coming to him,” she held up her hand to silence the man who had opened his mouth to speak. “And because it feels right. As long as it is in my power, I will not allow anyone else, or their families, to become like me and mine – broken, lifeless, nowhere to turn.” Camille thought briefly of her mother, sitting in the care center, empty, mute, not noticing that she was withering away to nothing. “Surely you can understand that?”

“I can, but promise me you won’t go too far. Please, Milly, I don’t-“

A light knock interrupted their conversation. Both Camille and Harmond jumped at the sound and looked to the door of Camille’s office – a silhouette stood on the other side of the wood and bubbled glass.

“Come in,” Camille said brightly, her tone much changed from when she was speaking to Harmond. She came out from behind her desk and waited attentively as the door swung open and a student shuffled in.

“Professor Stetson, I-oh! Um…I’m sorry, Professor, I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“That’s okay…Tami?” The girl nodded and blushed slightly, pleased that her professor had remembered her name. “I was just catching up with an old friend,” Camille gestured to Harmond. “What can I help you with?”

“I was hoping you could help me review for the upcoming exam,” Tami said shyly.

“Of course!” she chirped guiding the girl over to the chair in front of her desk. “Doctor Harmond, perhaps we could finish our chat later?” Camille did not want to finish the conversation at all, but decided she would humor the old man.

“Certainly, certainly. Dinner tonight at eight?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”
_______________________________________

She had missed it. Or was in the process of missing it.

Camille checked the clock on the dashboard of her car once more, noting the time to be half past eight, before shutting off the engine. She felt a small twinge of guilt, but pushed it away as she got out of the car. She removed her shoes, head wrap, and day clothes – her fitted, skirted outfit that she used for her nighttime gallivanting having been underneath her dress – throwing them into the back seat. Then she set the white mask across the top of her face. She gently pushed the door of the car shut, trying to make as little noise as possible.

It was hard to tell where Locust would strike – he visited the sections of farmlands in the countryside in sporadic fashion – but she always waited at this spot. It was at the edge of a field of crops that was situated only a few miles outside of the city. It was a perfect position, really. Eventually he would attack here, and it was also close enough to the city that, should she sense any trouble within the urban expanse, she could make it back quickly.

She sat idly, leaning against the front left tire of her car, alternately growing the grass around her feet and shrinking it down to mere sprouts. She drank water constantly – if there was a battle to be had she would be ready.

Her ears perked at a light hum in the distance. She peeked over the hood of her car, smiling when she saw what looked like a singular, low hovering cloud steadily coming closer. She quickly polished off the water remaining in her bottle then, with a slight grunt, began growing a vine-like arm from her side. She let it snake along the ground until she estimated it was long enough. With a deep breath she whipped the appendage at the cloud of insects.

The green limb met the cloud with a few satisfying crunches. She was about to make a second pass through the swarm when they scattered. Immediately she shortened the extra arm and brought it closer to her, preserving her water levels and readying for an attack.

“That was rather rude, you know.”

She turned to her left and whipped the vine at the man now standing there. He dodged the blow easily by changing his form and reshaping to her right. She did not strike upon his reappearance. This was her first time meeting Locust, let alone fighting him – she had to pace herself.

He was bigger than she expected, for a man who could turn himself into such tiny creatures. He had broad shoulders, twice as wide as her own, and had, she estimated, almost a good ten inches on her. She frowned. If he got too close and got a clean shot, it would definitely hurt.

“So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening…?”

“Anthora,” she absently touched the yellow flower on her head.

“Anthora. A pleasure.”

“The same to you, Locust,” she said snapping the vine to her side like a whip.

Locust’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“I’m guessing you’re here for a fight.”

In answer, Camille grew another vine-like limb from the other side of her body.

“Very well.” He morphed into a cloud of insects once more. The swarm hovered for a few moments, contemplative, before flying towards her.

As the bugs came forward Camille attacked them with the vines sprouted from her sides, while at the same time growing her hair longer. It didn’t take long before she had at least a dozen tendrils whipping at the swarm, a windmill of green. Despite this a few of the insects were still able to land on her skin, getting a quick bite or two in before she swatted them away. It was more annoying than harmful.

He’s searching for a weak spot, she thought.

Camille planted her bare feet more firmly on the ground, twisting them so that they dug into the soft earth. It took a few moments before she felt the cool sensation of the water in the ground being pulled into her from the bottom of her feet. With a calming breath she concentrated on the seedpod tucked in her hair. In seconds it sprouted, the roots twisting in her hair and slightly penetrating her scalp – she was its land and its water source.

The attack from the insects was becoming more frequent, and more damaging, as she stood there, but she continued to focus on growing and strengthening the sprout. She moved her hands over the petal-like pleats of her skirt – each one was a thin pouch containing water – and absorbed the water from there as well. With the extra hydration boost she was able to grow the stems from the plant down her arms and legs, and made it finally bloom and mature.

“Carnivorous plants. Very clever,” the swarm echoed around her.

Camille smirked with triumph as the mouths of the fully grown fly trap bit at the bugs that ventured too close. Locust pulled back, maneuvering himself to different points around her, each time met with a snapping mouth, or a vine, which he dodged by scattering to a new position. They were in deadlock.

Camille took the time, since her feet were still absorbing the water from the ground, to heal the small wounds caused by the bugs as she was growing the plant – as long as she was standing still she could continue to attack him and heal without getting tired. She grinded her feet further into the earth, steadying her stance.

The droning from the swarm got louder suddenly, and it took Camille a few seconds to realize that it was laughter.

“So that’s it,” Locust hummed.

The insects sped forwards and Locust reshaped into his human form a few inches in front of her. The fly traps snapped at him instinctually but could not get any purchase on him with their mouths, doing him no harm. Before she could react, Locust grabbed the source of the plant, the root system resting on top of her head, and held onto it as he kicked her in the side and she flew across the field. She gasped in pain as the plant was ripped from her scalp.

When she landed she immediately scrambled to her feet, gritting her teeth as she held her side. By the sharp pain that pulsed there she knew he had broken at least one rib. She frowned as she watched the plant gripped in his hand, as well as the parts of it still wrapped around her arms and legs begin to wither. She did not have enough energy to grow another.

Camille grunted as she whipped the vines still sprouting from her sides towards him. As he dodged her attack she pushed her feet firmly against the earth, searching for more water – she needed to rehydrate.

“Ah ah,” Locust chimed. He moved quickly around the flailing vines, getting close enough to throw a punch towards her head. She brought her arms up and blocked the attack, but was not fast enough to block the knee that he jabbed into her stomach. Coughing, she reeled backwards. Locust swept a foot under her legs and she fell onto her back. She got to her feet again, but he was already upon her. Camille dodged the best she could, receiving a few glancing blows, her side throbbing in protest every time she moved. She tried to attack back with the vines from her side and her hair, but she could feel them weakening – their movements were sluggish and they were beginning to turn brown.

Camille started to panic. She had to finish the fight quickly. She was getting too worn out. With a grunt she threw her whole body forward into Locust. It only knocked him back a few inches, probably more from surprise than force, but it was enough that she could trip him with the vines and then pin him to the ground, the tendrils weaving through the dirt and squeezing him tightly against the earth.

“And now you die,” she growled as she covered his face with the vines to suffocate him. She could feel the appendages starting to go limp, but she only needed a few more seconds. Just a few more....

The layer of vines suddenly shifted and Locust, as a swarm, burst from them, coming straight at her. The force knocked her to her knees, and she covered her face with her arms. She didn’t have enough energy left to grow the vines again; she had no way to protect herself. There was only one option left.

The air around her seemed to shimmer as she released the toxins from inside her body. She watched as the insects started to fall to the ground.

And then the world turned black.
_______________________________________

Her head throbbed. She slowly opened her eyes, but could not make out much – most of what she saw was shadows and blurred shapes. It was making her slightly queasy, so she closed them again. Doctor Harmond’s voice came unbidden to her mind.

Promise me you won’t go too far.

“Damn it,” she groaned, trying to roll over. Her body would not cooperate. She needed water.

There was a loud crunch. Her eyes snapped open, but it did not do her much good – she still couldn’t see clearly. Fuzzy shapes that were probably two feet swam in her vision, and then a larger blur as the figure attached to the feet crouched down. She felt something touch her head. A hand. It picked up a lock of her withered hair and brushed it behind her ear, following the curve of the lobe before resting on her cheek. The touch was gentle, something a family member or close friend would do.

A thought struck her. Had the old man been worried about her? Did he somehow know she was going to skip out on dinner and come to make sure she was okay? But how did he know she was here?

“Doctor Harmond?” she croaked hopefully, her strength beginning to leave her again.

The figure shook with mirth.

“Foolish girl.”

A persistent buzzing noise filled her ears as she slipped back into darkness.

[Kalanna Rai]

"Here you are Whiskers. A nice warm bowl of food for you, nice and soft." She smiled as the toothless cat butted its head against her hand before going over and gumming up it's meal. Whiskers was an old man, the fur on his face having gone white long ago. A rescue, just like the other three pets she owned. Castoffs all of them. "You be sure to keep the youngsters in line tonight huh?" She scratched his back lightly before turning away and walking down the hall and into her bedroom. Tonight was the night.

She threw open her closet doors, moving the boxes she'd stacked in the corner to reveal a balsa wood box that had once held oranges. Hefting it over the others, she dropped it on her bed and reached in to lift out the helmet that sat on top of the folded leathers inside. For a moment she stared into the polarized visor, her own grey eyes staring back at her. In the single dim bulb of her room the venom green pinstripes seemed to move, like lines of green blood slowly dissolving into the black. Like smoke. Or blood in water.

The helmet was set aside as she tugged on the leathers. Old motorcycle leathers she'd salvaged from a dumpster. She'd added the steel plates herself, carefully working them into just the right shape over the course of several weeks. So many times she'd failed, working a plate too thin, screwing up at just the last moment. But here it was now, her suit...her...herself. She ran a hesitant fingertip over the design in the center of the chest and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again she'd chased away the doubt from inside her head.

The outfit fit snugly, not quite skin tight, breathable, but form-fitting none the less. She tugged on the boots, stamping lightly on the floor to make sure they were well and truly on before snapping the buckles that held them on her legs closed. The gloves were next, tugged on until they bit into the webbing of between her fingers. She flexed her fingers slowly, listening to the leather creak, making sure they'd settled just right. Then, with the kind of reverence reserved for holy artifacts, she lifted the helmet off the bed. Spinning it once in her fingertips, she bundled her hair up and tucked it snugly inside before pulling the helm down over her face and snapping the visor closed.

Shutting off all the lights, she exited via her window. Light as a feather, she pushed off the side of the building and gracefully extended her arms to catch the ledge of the next door roof, hauling herself up and over with little effort. The rooftops spread out around her, a secret highway that only she knew well. Or well in her mind. Taking off at an easy lope, she enjoyed the freedom for a few moments. Her helmeted head turned this way and that, eyes sweeping the streets below her.

It seemed everything was quiet in her neighborhood tonight. She liked that. She'd decided that she'd stake a claim to these eight blocks and she'd damn well kick the piss out of any thug that thought otherwise. Crouching on the corner of a roof like some gargoyle, she lazily scanned the street four stories below. People were small from this height, the size of her finger as they went about their lives. This wasn't a glamorous neighborhood, but it was a good one. The pimps weren't here yet, the corner-side drug pushers. The folk were good and good at heart, a rarity in the pile of crap the city had become.

Sirens wailed in the distance and she snapped her head up, listening for a few moments before gathering her strength and pushing off. A little more height got her the vantage she needed, a glimpse of the flashing red and blue lights whirling in the distance. Another push and she was off, floating a bit on the breeze, like a plastic bag, only her suit weighing her down. She grabbed a flag pole, wheeling around it to pick up more momentum, hurling herself off into space again. It seemed like they were headed for the dog park of all places and the little neighborhood garden that occupied one corner of it.

She was only a street away when the first hint that this wasn't just some report of suspicious activity. Not when a geyser of water sent a squad car hurtling through the air. Her breath caught in her lungs and for a moment she tasted fear. Then anger burned through. It was him. That fucker. It had to be him. She hurtled off the side of the building hard enough to crush brick behind her.

Someone had broken open a fire hydrant, likely one of the assorted goons that lay in drenched heaps on the grass. Drowner was either being sloppy or his lackeys tonight had been chosen for the purpose of being fodder. The flipped police car lay crumpled against the corner of a nearby building, one of it's lights still lazily spinning. The other car was currently being pummeled by fists of water while the drenched man in his mask gave a watery laugh at the panicked looks of the man inside.

She couldn't spot any of the other officers right off the bat. Maybe they were already dead. If that was the case then it made saving this one man all the more important. She looked around, spying a fist sized chunk of rubble and hefting it. Thought became will and will became deed as her muscles took on the density of steel, her body becoming less human and more a steel cable launcher as she fired off the chunk of brick with lethal force. It whizzed right past Drowner's nose and caused the tree trunk nearest him to explode in a spray of splinters.

"What the fuck!?!" The masked head whipped around as the liquid voice burbled out in harsh surprise. Then followed the laughter as he laid eyes on her, the water twisting and swirling in the air behind him like an irritated many-headed hydra. "And who are you supposed to be?"

"My name is Impact and I'm here to deliver a message." She had only an instant to shift her density as the full force of the water slammed into her, the street under her feet vibrating as Drowner called on more pressure than the pipes normally supplied. The torrent struck with palpable force and there was a grinding noise as she was driven back a foot or so. Taking a breath she upped the density of her body, the first twinges of a headache starting to take hold in her skull.

Squaring her shoulders she took first one step forward. Then another. Then another. The torrent struck her chest, pounding the leather, flaying at it. Her suit would need some serious repairs after this. "And I'm going to need an entire fucking bottle of aspirin. Fuck this shit. Maybe I'll ask for something heavy duty...nah I don't need a narcotic." She muttered under her breath, her words snatched away by the sounding of the water.

Drowner, having realized that his torrent of force wasn't working, gave a liquid sounding curse. With a gesture he sucked up the scattered water, recalling it from every surface nearby, flinging it at her like knives. The first few blades hit and turned, the next wave of projectiles was bullet shaped and they brutally impacted against her.

She spun, hands moving as she battered a few of them out of the air, pushing off from the pavement and hurtling upward as her body suddenly became amazingly light. For a brief moment the city was spread out under her and she experienced a moment of beautiful hang time. Then she redirected the density of her body back down, ignoring the way that her vision seemed to swim oddly. She needed to practice rapid drastic changes more obviously. Or maybe it was just that she was trying to stave off damage at the same time that was shortening her usual span of easy use.

Hurtling back downward, drawn by gravity that seemed suddenly pissed off that something that heavy was that high in the sky, she kept her gaze trained on the ground below. The park grew rapidly and a speck slowly resolved itself into the humanoid form of Drowner. He'd been gazing upward, debating if he'd scared her off or not. Now he had just enough time to throw himself out of the way as she impacted the ground and sent shards of earth, stone, and concrete flying.

Slowly she stood from the crater, shaking her head to clear it and instantly regretting it. Laying on the ground a few yards away, looking like a stunned fish, was Drowner. Squaring her shoulders again, she walked up to him and leaned down, taking hold of his shirt and lifting him like a child would lift a doll. "As I said, I'm here to deliver a message. Stay the fuck out of my part of Savage City. And if this method of delivery lacks the right amount of impact, I'll damn well make sure that the next one flattens you like a fucking dish sponge under a steam roller."

She thought she sounded rather intimidating but obviously not since the wet man in the mask just laughed at her, a wet and bubbling sound. "You're a fucking dead woman, you know that? Trying to take part of my city? The balls you've got. I'm going to drown you, then revive you, then drown you again. And when you finally fucking die, I'm going to freeze your head in a goddamn block of ice."

"You already had that chance. You blew it. Now say goodnight and kiss that stupid mask of yours and a few teeth goodnight." She pulled back her fist, hardening it to the point of stone in the glove. She was going to enjoy-

"F-F-Freeze!"

She didn't know who was more surprised, her or Drowner. They both turned their head at the same time as the drenched cop stood there, gun in shaking hands as he pointed it at them. She did know that they both started laughing at the same time, his odd burbling noise, her slightly hysterical chuckle. Which only made her head hurt worse, fuck ow. And then Drowner took advantage of the distraction to punch her square in the helmet with enough psi to crack her visor. Her grip went limp as she tumbled backward, springing up on her hands again in a way that would have made any gymnast envious.

He stood atop a column of water, waving his fingertips at her before propelling himself off into the night.

"Fucker. Next time then." She sighed, glancing over at the cop. Her head was pounding and she could taste some blood in her helmet. Slowly she stood, walking past him, ignoring his further warnings to freeze. When he finally did work up the courage to shoot her hand snapped up, catching the bullet in her super-dense palm. Flattening it, she flipped it back at him like a coin. "How's about we just call it a night sport? You go crap your drawers somewhere else, I'm going to go home and eat the contents of my medicine cabinet. God, whatever happened to people being grateful when someone saved their ass...you seriously just tried to shoot me."

She waited for him to say anything and when he didn't she just kept walking, hoping her head would clear up a little. The sound of his footsteps behind her had her spinning, bringing her hands up ready to defend herself. He raised his clearly empty hands, stopping a few yards away from her.

"Hey, I-I just wanted to ask your name. For the report."

She sighed, relaxing again. "They call me Impact." And just for added effect she pushed off right then, leaping away into the night, leaving a crater in the street behind her.

[sagittaeri]

Three tall shelves lined up along the store. Four aisles of light grocery items. No, wait, heavy vacuum cleaners in boxes stacked up on one shelf. Usable. Start there. Next step...wobbly leg down here. Perfect. Now, only need to knock out screws here, here and there. Wait. Need to move skateboard a little to the left, and shift some weight there. Done. Checking over...bingo. It's ready.

Mentally shutting myself out of the extra-sensory dimension, I felt my five ordinary senses returning one by one. One moment, I was inside the store with the armed robbers, and the next, I was tucked away safely in a corner of a dark alleyway.

"---see your faaaace, there's not a thing that I will change. 'Cause your amazing, just the way you aaaare---"

"Are...you singing?!" I asked in bewilderment, unsure whether to guffaw, or to sob in horror.

"That was Bruno Mars," replied the digitally filtered voice over the earpiece attached to my silver-white masquerade mask. "He was nominated for seven Grammys, winning one---"

"William, I didn't ask about the song," I interrupted, feeling slightly amused. Glancing around to ensure I was still alone, I stepped out of hiding and moved towards the convenience store, pulling out a navy blue conductor baton from my silver belt in preparation.

"Ahh, of course. You were expressing surprise over my dabbling in music." There was almost a 'smugness' in his voice, as if he knew that all along.

I peeked around the corner of my darkened alleyway. Just on time --- the robbery was still in progress. "You're just a computer program. Surely you understand my...'expression of surprise'."

"I'm a fully-functioning, ever-evolving Artificial Intelligence, you piece of shit."

I laughed quietly while making sure my navy blue 3-piece suit and top hat were positioned correctly. "Look at that, you're finally cursing right."

"Thank you. You were a good teacher."

"Just doing what any sound parent would do," I grinned, knowing the AI could see it from the CCTV across the street. Happy with my costume, I walked towards the entrance of the store, one half in excitement, the other in fear. "Listen, I'm going in. Monitor for all activity, and tell me if---"

"---if the police or anyone else is coming your way. I don't forget things, remember?"

"Well, I do," I retorted, before bursting into the store, seizing the attention of three armed men.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Amnesia. How cliché was that?

That was my first response when I woke up in a strange bedroom five years ago and stared at the nameless face in the mirror. Even though the bedroom hadn't felt the least bit familiar, I knew it belonged to the teenager in the mirror. Armed with that knowledge, it didn't take very long for me to discover who he was. His personal effects around the room painted a very complete picture of his life.

The tennis balls and racquet told me the boy kept in shape. The photo album revealed numerous happy and healthy personal relationships. The calendar boasted the teenager's organisational skills. The high school year book illustrated his middling popularity and average grades. His laptop password exposed the boy's lack of technical competency and security awareness. His frequent blog entries, most of which were private, demonstrated a warm and stable temperament in the young man. Samuel Griffiths was his name, and he was in his final year of high school.

None of these facts managed to jog my memory. That was what they were to me. Facts. I had no emotional connection to them.

Silently entering the kitchen, I looked upon the faces of the boy's parents. It was my intention to reveal my brain's tiny little hiccup to the people responsible for the boy. But, they were so kind. Before I could say anything, I was served a glass of orange juice by my 'mother', and a plate of bacon and eggs by my 'father'. Then, they asked if I was ready for my SATs. They were very generous with their words of encouragements, telling me not to worry about their financial troubles as they had already set aside funds for college.

So, I didn't tell them. In fact, I didn't tell anyone. Why should I upset any of the boy's friends or family? The amnesia, after all, was most definitely temporary.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Wha---" "Jesus---" "Shit---"

All three men stumble-turned towards me simultaneously, pointing their guns threateningly at my general direction. Almost comically, one of the armed robbers remembered the equally perplexed elderly shopkeeper and swung his gun back.

"Who the hell are you?" shouted the man with a small scar on his face, waving his gun carelessly around.

"Please, call me Conductor," I bowed and spun my baton in a flourish. "From the lack of ski masks, I take it this is your first armed robbery?"

The three men looked at each other blankly. Honestly, how exactly did these simple-minded men one day wake up and decide to rob a store together? One of them---the short one---looked at me imploringly. "Look, we don't care who you are, but please leave us alone."

I flipped my baton in another flourish before tucking it between my arm and body. "I'm afraid I can't do that. But, the good news is, I'm giving all of you one chance to do the right---"

Suddenly, scar-face roared at the top of his lungs, stunning all of us for a moment. Then, as if in slow motion, I watched his posture changed, and not for the better. His right shoulder tensed and a muscle along the inside of his right forearm tightened. Knowing exactly what that meant, I quickly swung my left foot back and pulled my torso inwards an instant before---bang!---a shot was fired from his gun. I felt the light graze of its bullet on my left shoulder before it ricochet off a metal shelf.

Shit! Stupid and crazy?! Abandoning my plan to 'secretly' set up my 'manoeuvre', I pointed my baton towards the remaining targets and squeezed its trigger, hearing a silent 'whoosh' each time. Whoosh, the skateboard was pushed into a slightly different direction. Whoosh, the screw on the front leg of the nearest shelf was knocked off.

"Sam," the electronic voice called out in my earpiece. "There's an inconsistency with these men's behaviour."

"You think?!"

"No," the AI protested. "Listen---"

"Damien, stop!" yelled the young robber suddenly, as scar-face roared deafeningly and pointed his gun at me, again. Bang!

Barely managed to remove myself from the path of another bullet, the crazy sononnabitch fired yet again, and again! He was now screaming incessantly, supporting my reluctantly-formed theory that he was simply mad. Evading each bullet with more and more difficulty, I leaped into cover behind one of the shelves. An untrained eye might assume I had done a Matrix and dodged each bullet as they came. Only, I didn't have super speed, so that was impossible. Instead, my enhanced dexterity allowed me to see the path of a to-be-fired bullet based on how the shooter was holding the firearm. From the muscle tension in their shoulders and arms, I could see if someone was about to pull the trigger, giving me a fraction of a second to move out of the way.

"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you!" I yelled from my cover as I lifted up my baton. Whoosh, another screw on the shelf was knocked off at my coaxing. That was the last piece I needed to set for my manoeuvre --- I had already 'covertly' set a few of pieces in the beginning while I was flourishing my baton around.

"STOP IT!" screamed the elderly shopkeeper suddenly. The old man was sobbing in grief as his hands reached out towards scar-face. "Damien, this is not like you, why are you doing this?"

They know each other? I was slightly befuddled.

"Sam," the electronic voice in my earpiece tried again. "All three robbers and the shopkeeper are related," he explained as a family photograph appeared on the screen in my mask. "I believe the sons are robbing their father."

Okay, I didn't expect that at all.

As if watching a bad soap, scar-face suddenly broke down sobbing, lowering his gun. Just when I thought the bizarre family crisis was over, I heard another agonisingly loud roar --- only this time it was from the other two sons! They raised their guns at me and fired repeatedly, unfortunately a little too quickly for me to dodge!

Materialising my force field just in time, I managed to deflect the bullets, feeling my strength ebb away quickly as each projectile struck my shield. "What the hell is wrong with you people!?" I shouted at them, genuinely more baffled than I had ever been in my entire life. I'm ending this crazy charade! I rolled away from my cover, pointed the baton at a beach ball on the back shelf, and fired the air-gun, finally triggering my manoeuvre.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"WOO HOO!!" I cried as we jumped out the airplane.

"OH. MY. GO-O-OD! AHHHH!!" Ben screamed behind me.

My body was pumped full with adrenaline as I closed my eyes and howled in laughter like a madman. The freezing cold winds was beating against my face and body as I stretched out my limbs. The air smelled a different kind of fresh --- not green-fresh, but pure-fresh. The mountains and the city were so tiny from up here.

For a moment, time stopped. The world no longer made sense. Peace. The one million thoughts and ideas that were usually bouncing around my skull disappeared, and I was normal. I didn't have to involuntarily figure out that my best friend cheated on his loving and kind wife last week. Or how his father hasn't told anyone about his terminal prostrate cancer, and only had a month left to live. No more unwanted secrets that I couldn't tell anyone because I couldn't explain how I knew them. No, I get to meet new people and learn new things about them, slowly, like everyone else. No more deducing if someone had a drug addiction or criminal conviction on the first meeting. I can stop being so judgemental on all of my mother's boyfriends, and let her be happy for once. You may not believe it, but having a super brain brought more torment than blessing, and the adrenaline rush was the only way I can break the curse.

Of course, like all good things, the rush eventually came to an end, and I was me again. Unbuckling my parachute and shrugging off the backpack, I watched as Ben glided down beside me and landed onto the field. His face was so white that I knew he was beyond terrified.

"T-that was g-great!" he tried to tell me after jumping out of his parachute. "Hey m-man it was a-awesome!"

I chuckled at my best friend's horrible attempt at lying. "Don't worry, Ben, I won't make you do that again."

A look of relief suddenly descended on his face. "Oh t-thank god!"

"But you'll go bungee jumping with me again next week, right?"

A brief look of panic crossed his face. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up. "Oh y-yeah, can't w-wait!"

I grinned back at him. I knew he wouldn't refuse me...we were celebrating my college graduation and upcoming backpacking trip to Europe, and he had promised we could do anything I wanted before I left. Just because I couldn't speak to him about his fidelity issues, it didn't mean I couldn't punish him on behalf of Sarah, who knew nothing about it!

Four years ago, after taking my SATs, I admitted myself to the hospital for a head bump that didn't really happen. I was convinced there must be some physical damage to account for the memory loss. However, the CT scans came out clean and the doctor told me I was fine. Not knowing what else I could do, I figured a few days of rest and my memory would eventually return. No one had to know about it.

Only, after a few years, my memory still hadn't come back. So, I broke into a hospital late one night and gave myself an MRI, convinced that the doctor must had missed something. And when the results came back clean, I gave myself an EEG. That was when I understood the true nature of my intelligence. I wasn't just an 'ordinary' genius...the electrical activity the device had picked up wasn't at all ordinary...it was a super ability! Calmly removing the device from my head, I proceeded to destroy all evidence of my less-than-human nature from the hard drives in the hospital.

Over the years, in an effort to understand my ability, I started hacking government and international intelligence websites to learn more about my heritage. The only interesting tidbit I had found was my great grandfather, Wilhelm Himmelreich. He was a German conductor for an orchestra during World War II, which wasn't unusual. However, the Nazi intelligence had kept suspiciously close tabs on him, and all I could dig up from here were three words: 'experimental research division'.

My backpacking trip tomorrow was really my chance to resume my investigation in Germany. I was playing a dangerous game, I knew, but I had also just discovered I had enhanced dexterity. I had felt invincible.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The beach ball bounced around the back shelf, knocking over a tall jar of marbles. The falling jar knocked over two other jars, which in turn knocked over four more, and so on, until all twenty jars were on its sides and rolling off the shelves. Smash, smash, smash! One by one, the jars plunged into the ground, where a hundred marbles exploded out each time. The shifting weight caused the shelf's loosened legs to pop out on both ends, and suddenly, the entire length of the back shelf leaned over and crashed into the middle shelf, its contents spilling out noisily in between the two shelves.

"Jesus!" cursed scar-face, as everyone turned and looked at the unfolding spectacle at the back of the shop.

With a lack of screws, the legs on the middle shelf folded under the pressure, and then the entire middle shelf started to tip over...only to have its fall was blocked by the last shelf---the one next to us---with a loud thud. A long skateboard flew out of the last shelf, and at the same time, hundreds and hundreds of marbles rolled in from beneath. I lifted my air-gun and fired a shot at scar-face. Whilst the air bullets only had a force of a shove, it was enough to make him take a step back to recover his balance---only to slip on the marbles and crash into the other men, like a domino! Their elderly father, too, slipped on the marbles and fell backwards, except---with perfect timing---he landed on the skateboard and wheeled towards me.

Scrambling for their guns, the robbers cursed when they realised the marbles had carried their weapons away. The stunned shopkeeper continued wheeling past me from the momentum, right out of his shop to safety via the main entrance. With a satisfied smile, I marvelled at the result of my manoeuvre. I felt like I had filled an old void in my soul. Like I had finally quenched the thirst of my mummified desires. Everything. Everything moved exactly as how I had planned. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and soaked in the moment. It felt freaking good! My fingers itched for more.

"Time to finish this," I said and opened my eyes. As if on cue, one of the trays on the last shelf snapped off its hinges, causing a few boxes of vacuum cleaners to tumble down. The heavy boxes fell right on top of the robbers, knocking them out, marking the completion of my very first manoeuvre as Conductor.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Three months. I stepped out of the airport, dragging two large luggages behind me, and hailed a cab. God, I missed being home. Germany was good. Could had be better, if I wasn't being hunted by both the German intelligence and a secret Nazi society at the same time. I barely managed to sneak both myself and my cargo into a commercial airplane, without resorting to being a stowaway.

One of the luggages contained a secret artefact of World War II. It was a machine of some sort in the shape of a sphere. It wasn't working when I found it, but I managed to fix it. That machine later became William, the bad-mouthing Artificial Intelligence.

The other luggage contained a navy blue 3-piece suit, which belonged to my great grandfather, Wilhelm Himmelreich. I took it home for sentimental reasons. It was also a symbol. A symbol that one man's legacy could live on, and I was determined to not let that legacy die.

So, what exactly happened in Germany, or to my great grandfather? That's a story for another time.

Did I recover any of my memory? No. Not even a bit.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Now, that's interesting," a baritone voice said outside the store.

I spun around towards the stranger. My grip on my baton tightened. He was dressed in a purple spandex outfit, with an image of an exploding brain on his chest. I know him from somewhere!

"Sam," the AI's electronic voice warned. "Be careful, that man is---"

"AHHH!" I grabbed my head and screamed in agony. Everything in my head felt like exploding!

A video of an old news report started playing in my mask screen. The purple spandex, the metal helmet, the cruel blue eyes and the tufts of red hair...that was the guy! "His name is Mindset, Sam, he's dangerous. Get out of there!"

"The shopkeeper is next to him," I hissed back, knowing the AI could see the whole scene. The agonising pain wouldn't stop, and I could feel my adrenaline levels rising. No, no, no, I needed my super intelligence about me now. "William, punch in a dose," I whispered under my breath.

Almost immediately, I felt a prick in the back of my neck, as an adrenaline inhibitor was injected directly into my blood stream. Buying myself a brief moment of intellectual clarity, I started putting two and two together.

I looked up at the purple freak---Mindset---standing outside. Jesus, he's just laughing by himself! "You," I shouted, my head still throbbing in pain. "You did this to them!"

Mindset's eyes flickered at the three unconscious robbers. "Oh yes," he replied dismissively. "It was fun for a bit, forcing them to rob their father, but it got boring soooo fast." Then he locked eyes with me. "You, on the other hand, are something different..."

"Why?" I glared at him, despite being afraid of another wave of mental attack.

The freak rolled his eyes up in annoyance. "Why else? It was funny as hell!" He then laughed maniacally. "Have you ever tried training a dog by beating it with a stick? Well, guess what, it works on people too!"

I felt sick to my stomach. That freak inflicted an agonising mental blast on the three sons every time they didn't do what he had wanted. The memory of scar-face roaring in pain just before shooting at me flashed in my head. They were being tortured like animals!

"Oh, don't look like that. I swear, it's sooo much funnier in my head. Especially considering the original plan was to have the police gun them down in front of their father. I could just see the headlines now." He drew an imaginary box with both his hands. "Sons paid groceries with life."

"You're sick!"

Suddenly police sirens echoed around the streets. The freak looked behind him and frowned disappointedly. "Now they come? Seriously, law enforcement these days..." he started skipping away from the store. "You know what? Let's catch up later! Ta-ta!" he said just before disappearing around the corner into an alley.

I released an agonising breath and let myself fall to the ground. Shit, that mind blast really hurt! I could barely think after the first wave.

"Sam? Sam, are you okay? Can you stand?"

"William, calm down---"

"Sam you have to get out of there, now. The police is only a few seconds away!"

Swallowing my pain, I picked up my baton and dashed out of the store, into my dark alleyway, just before the police drove into view.

"William?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"You called the police, didn't you?"

"No, you told me never to speak to anyone."

I smiled to myself. So computers could lie, now. "Thanks, Will. You saved my life. I think."

[PopeAlessandrosXVIII]

Staring at the branch a good fifteen feet away I take a deep breath and chew my bottom lip. It's a bad habit I've had for a long time, but I can't help doing it when I think. I try to gauge the jump carefully, but my body still shakes slightly from time to time, making focusing on anything difficult. With a growl I at last steel my resolve. I crouch, my bare feet and right hand clinging to the bark of the tree where I hang a good thirty feet off the ground wile my free hand clenches and relaxes rhythmically. With a grin and a hoot I launch myself towards my target, a branch of a nearby tree. The leap is spectacular, the distance, incredible! I can feel the air move around me, almost whistling past. I let out another hoot, reaching for the branch, and miss. With a comical yipe I begin falling.

The leaves and branches of the tree I'd been aiming slap my bare chest and arms as I sail right by the trunk of the tree. After only a few feet I come to a sudden halt, a fiery pain shooting up my spine from my butt. I groan slightly, crossing my legs and arms as I look up at my savior. The tip of my fleshy tail waggles back at me, it's flayed skin flaps flexing in and out into a diamond shape, then laying flat against the pointed tail. With another growl I look down at the ground and focus hard on a spot at the base of the tree. In a blink I'm there, stumbling slightly from the shock my spine took. Rather then adding to my humiliation by face planting on the slightly sodden forest floor I move to one of the tree's larger roots and take a seat.

It had been a day since I discovered my new mutations. The taunts and jeers of the bullies who had driven me to my attempted suicide still throb at the back of my mind. My parents had thought I needed more of a social life, so what better then sending me to a second rate science camp for a couple weeks? It hadn’t taken the other kids long to realize I was a bit awkward, and had waited no time in using me for their amusement. I had always been odd, but with no place to run off to, I had done my best to take all they could trow at me. When I couldn't take it anymore, I ran away. That's when I found the lab. I mean, it was science camp, right? So one should expect a lab, but this wasn't the piddle ass one the kids had access to.

I was hurt, inside and out, and really, what was my life anyways? Pathetic and pointless, that's what. I, Michel(Mi-shell) Benjamin Grace, at the tender age of 16, decided life wasn't worth living anymore. It just seemed logical. So I went on a drinking binge. Whatever I could find. Some of it even tasted okay. I had drunk god knows how many beakers full of god knows what when I felt overcome by heat. Not in my body, but in my mind, a fire seemed to burn. I vaguely remember running, but then it all goes blank. I woke up in the woods some time later only to be greeted by something poking me in the cheek. It was a tail, and it was attached. I had been so shocked I tried to get away from it, and that's when I discovered two things; I could teleport, and doing so without looking looking where one's going is a bad idea. My hip still aches from where I'd slammed into that boulder.

Looking around I feel a shiver run up my spine, but this time not from the pain. “Crap crap crap crap crap!” Looking about franticly I port over to where I stashed my shirt and coat. The chill in the air picks up and I can feel my body and mind slowing. I fall into the little alcove holding my stuff just as my body ceases listening to me and simply goes limp. It takes several minutes but eventually my body heat circulates through the small almost cave like area and I feel my limbs twitching. Moving slowly I slip into my shirt and pull on my jacket. “When the fook did it get so cold?” I wonder aloud. That's when the sound of thunder rumbles through the forest. “Great!” I throw up my arms in exasperation. Stupid move as the space is much too small for such enthusiastic shows of exasperation. The crack of my knuckles on the ceiling pulls another curse from me. Pushing as far back from the entrance as I can, I slip my bleeding knuckles into my mouth.

It had rained earlier and that was then I discovered that whatever had happened to my body made rain my enemy. Each strike felt like icicles on my skin, and I swear I could hear my flesh crackle. Wrapping my tail around me like a flesh covered python wrapping around a meal I draw the end up to my chest and hold it still. The tail, almost twice as long as I am tall, seems to have a mind of it's own, and I can feel it itching to check out the rain drops falling past my shelter's entrance. “Well, I guess physical training is out. . . . . .” Being careful to lock my hands onto my rebellious tail, I relax and let my mind wander. All else drops away, and I begin exploring the forest with my mind. Around the trees and bushes, over logs and stones, I travel the woods alone. The falling rain obscures little.

I travel back to camp where they are still franticly looking for me. The I awoke in the woods I wondered what was happening back in camp. I nearly frightened myself again when I suddenly saw exactly what was going on. Several counselors had been assigned to find me, and they were just returning from an expedition into the woods. It seemed that they knew it was me who had caused the mess in the lab.

Wandering around camp I head for the office to check the date. 'Two days left at camp Tartars huh? Well, at least it's more enjoyable out here then I thought it would be' I mentally grin as I head back into the woods. For fun I slip down to ground level and move back and forth like a snake. After several seconds I come to regret my little experiment as I come face to face with my arch nemesis. With a shriek my mind snaps back into my body and I slam into the back of the alcove. A combination of the sudden return and the swiftly rising egg on the back of my head brings tears to my eyes. The pain is too much and I pass out, my last thought about just how nice dead leave smell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Grace, I need that report filed and those commissions approved by the end of business today, got it?” I nod slightly in my bosses direction at his barked orders. He leaves in a huff, edging sideways out of the little room I spend my days in. The filing room of Z Corp is far too small for all the papers packed inside it, but the high stacked papers and boxes are comforting to me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. It's been several years since that fortunate slash unfortunate event in the prime of my youth, and now at the age of 36, I couldn't be happier with my life. Well, one thing, only one, could make it any better. Carefully rolling up a few documents I slide them into the vac-tube sitting by the shoot I use to transfer documents to every corner of the building. Punching in the code for the fifth floor manager's office I slide the tube in and watch it vanish.

I live the simple life. Small apartment, crappy car, dead-end job, but none of that really matters to me. It's fine that I've never had a girlfriend, or a friend for that matter. I don't care that to most people at work I'm the faceless file room guy. I am content with my little niche in this world. As long as I know I'm important. As long as I know I'm special, that's all that matters.

~~~~~~~~

That night when I clock out I head home quickly. 'It's time for my real job!' Tonight is one of the few nights out of the week where I can go into work late the next day, so tonight I'll hit the town. My apartment is frighteningly clean and the smell of lemon makes my nose twitch as I practically charge to my room from the front door. Throwing off my over long suit coat I feel my tail relax and unwind from my waist where it spends most of it's day. It makes me look fat, but it's not like I care. Stripping down I make my way up the wall of my bedroom to the ceiling, then across the ceiling to my secret cache. My neighbors had complained profusely when I was building it, but the awkward interactions with them have been worth it to keep my stuff safe. For the first time today I feel myself smiling. My tail sways back and forth, as I port down to the bed with my prizes.

Sliding into the black tight leather pants I almost fall off the bed in my haste. Adjusting the split in the back around my tail I can feel it getting as excited as I am. I swiftly pull on the open to the navel jade colored shirt and tuck it in before pulling on my greatest prize. The leather trench hugs my skin, the split in the back at the perfect height to let my tail move freely. It had cost me a small fortune, but the moment I had spotted it in the store window I knew I would wear it one day, it had to be mine. The last piece of the outfit is just the opposite. Using scraps of leather dumped out behind a seamstress place I'd managed to stitch together a mask to cover the area around my eyes and cover the top of my head. The only truly interesting part of the mask is some ram shaped horns I had found in the mix of junk. Inspired I had sewn them on to the sides so that they frame my ears when I don the mask. 'With the tail, I'd say I look rather demonic' I grin, pulling it on.

With a quick snap of my tail I head for the window. Picking an empty roof across the street I set out on the prowl. Keeping low I follow various people around here and there. Living in one of the crappier parts of town I know it won't be too long befo-

“Help!!”

Whipping around I head for the source of the distress call. Two blocks over I find my target. With a quick peek over the edge of the roof into the alley I do a head count before dipping down against the roof wall. 'That's a lot of guys. . . .' Relaxing I send my mind down amongst the crowd below.

“I'm sorry! I swear I won't say anything. T-tell him I didn't see anything! I s-” The woman's voice is cut short as one of the men surrounding her smacks her hard enough to knock her down. I growl mentally as the group of men and woman around her laugh.

The one who struck her steps forward and grabs her by the hair. I'm about to pull back and begin my assault when his words stop me cold. “Mr. R knows that's a lie. He saw you, so obviously you saw something. He may not like getting his hands dirty, but he can't have you blabbing now, can he? I think this'll be a lot kinder then what he'd usually do to someone like you.”

My mind snaps back and I give myself a few moments to adjust. A shadow falls across the wall beside me and in a flash I leap to the side before spinning to face the source of the shadow. I shoot the smug bastard a glare sharp as razors as he stands there smiling at me. His soulless eyes stare back at me, only the faintest hint of amusement shining from within their violet depths. He reaches up and touches the edge of his bowler hat in greeting before sliding his hands into his pockets. I can feel my heart beginning to pound as anger wells up inside me. “Now now, we don't want to have any trouble here tonight, do we?” His smooth voice is like broken glass to my ears.

He turns, moving towards the wall slowly before looking over it. “I mean, you've already lost your sisters, do you really think you have enough family left to afford messing with my plans gain?” His gaze turns back to me and I feel my hands shaking. “Oh, and I heard about your mother. You have my sincerest condolences.” That's the last straw. With a roar I spring forward, lashing out with both fist and tail. His hands slip out of his pockets, his weapons glinting in the light of a nearby streetlamp. I yelp as the brass knuckles make contact with my left shoulder just before my fist can land. My tail however hits it's mark, wrapping around his other arm and as I fly backwards he gets pulled to his knees. The impact on the tar covered roof knocks the wind out of me, but I have enough sense to quickly retract my tail from around his arm before he has a chance to damage it.

Curling around I do a back roll and am on my feet moments later, just in time to miss another harsh blow from Mr. R. Turning around I climb the side of the building's air conditioner. Looking back I pause. He's nowhere to be seen. Then suddenly above me I see a light flash. Before I can react a foot comes over the edge of the AC unit and it catches me in my already injured shoulder. The shock knocks me back on tot he roof. I pull myself up again, ready to port up there to continue our fight when I notice he's put his knuckles away. Smiling again he gives me a little wave before disappearing into the portal standing open behind him. My muscles begin throbbing and I realize I'm getting too hot. Pulling my trench open wider I let it slide down a bit so the cool evening air can help my to not overheat. I walk slowly over to the wall, not wanting to look over into the alley below. My mind does it for me anyways, and the sight of the woman's twisted from makes me double over. The snap back along with what I'd seen combine to make me lose my stomach contents to the rooftop. “Damn that nook sniffer. . . . .” I murmur before getting back on my feet, and heading home.