Create a Hero RPG GAME THREAD (MOD Approved)

[Karem-Knight]

"Don't **** this up Joey, don't tell anyone. This is judgment day!"

Joey sat down in his car, waiting outside a very popular restaurant in West Haven, rumors had had it that Sonny Carlo ate there, along with Barry Astoni (Consiglerie), Sal Donoviti (Underboss) and Mickey Carlo, the boss's son. Joey now waited patiently, first sign he had was to take out Sonny Carlo and Mickey, get this war over quick and easy. He also had another note to take in, kill Jackie. This was going to make sure he would be Underboss, and once Franco passed away, boss.

Waiting there patiently, him and three members of his crew sat in the car, they had lost one in the midst of it all, waiting patiently he saw Mickey Carlo along with Sal Donoviti standing outside in the cold warming up.

"Shall we shoot em now?"

"Yes you ****ing genius! Shoot them now and wait for the other two, shoot them and then walk away with no ****ing problem. You're a ****ing idiot Fats!"

"Jeez..sorry Boss, just a suggestion!"

"Who we taking out anyway?"

"It doesn't matter just trust me alright?"

Sitting outside, Barry Asotoni showed up, hugging and kissing Mickey and Sal, the future Administration of the Carlo family, and if today ****s up, the future kings of Lost Haven. The three of them casually sat down waiting, Joey's driver, Fred kept looking round planning his route and to make sure that he could get away from West Haven safely.

The four men kept waiting, hand guns, uzis and even a Sawn off all ready waiting for the old man to show up.

"Turn on the radio someone huh?"

"No! We don't want any attention, if they hear us it could **** up everything, we might end up shooting them down straight away and Sonny gets pissed because his only son is dead, who the **** do you think he'll go after?"

"Fine!"

"Fats, I swear one more ****ing word from you and I'll shoot you-"

"Joey, look!"

Sonny's car pulled up on the curb, a black Mercedes, waiting long enough, Joey decided to go at it.

"**** it, let's do this."

The car started up, slowly entering the road as the old and frail boss of the Carlo family got out, ready to discuss matters, the young men got their guns ready for the pull up as his three most trusted men greeted him.


Once they were but a few seconds away, Joey cellphone went off Picking it up, it said Uncle Franco.

"Hello!"

"It's off Joey."

"But-"

"It doesn't matter, just get back here now!"

The phone hung up, the car was still driving towards Sonny, deciding within seconds what to do, Joey did what he was told.

"It's off, let's go!"

"What the **** Joey?"

"Hey! Bosses orders let's go, Now!"

The car drove off a little more quickly from the Carlo family's heads as they talked business, while Mickey looked along the road, he starred an awfully long time at the car as it drove away before disappearing.

 

[Byrd Man]

Grace gives me a devilish smirk, and I give her a peck on her forehead for her efforts. I sigh a bit, and I walk back over to Mr. Byrd and his fiance with my arm around Grace's shoulder.

"My apologies for my...little outburst. I--I took it completely the wrong way. While I do not wish to sell that painting in particular, perhaps I can interest you in a free commission? Anything, anything at all. Completely your choice."

"Well..." Jen starts a bit apprehensively. "I really had my eye on another painting..But.."

She points her finger across the room towards another painting.

"What can you tell me about that one?"

 

[EasternComfort]

Church Street Bank
Four Days Ago

Just your average day in your typical bank, "Deposit this; I'll take 300 out". The guards just stand around talking while giving people the eye and occasionally putting their hand on their guns just to see how people would react from a distance.

"What? get outta here the mets are the team beat, just look at that rotation."

"You say the same thing every year and the mets never do anything."

Seeing that something caught his partner's eye he turned and glanced at the
man who just walked in. The man began to move toward the line slowly but erratically, eyes looking toward the floor as if he had to carefully watch each step to save from falling face down. "Great" the cop looks at the other shaking his head "another druggie looking to take out his life savings to score." Nothing they haven't seen before the stuff was everywhere these days and it didn't seem to be getting any better. Tilting his head to the side the erratic man sees the guards walking toward him. Standing straight up he looks up and begins to sing loud and incoherently.

"I'm sssiingginng in the wayne just siiiinging in the rain whaat aa"

With a quick pull the man's back was against the wall with the two security guards standing in front, a third with doughnut in hand looking on from some back room to see what was going on. Staring with a big grin on his face the erratic man didn't seem to know what exactly was going on.

"Hey youse guys ever see dat movie? God it was terrible!"

"Wow he must really be tweaking."

The other guard leans in toward the man.

"Look man we don't care what you do but you can't come in here while your on whatever. Your going to have to leave alright, and quietly, can you walk?"

"Oh fellas, I've already left."

The lights begin to flicker and the ringing of the alarm reverberated throughout the bank. Distracted it takes the guard a moment to comprehend what was happening. Slowly he touched his face with his hand now looking at the blood dripping down his palm. His partner lay on the floor hands covering his face with blood splatting in all directions creating a pool of blood under his head. Now eye to eye with the erratic man there is a momentary pause. In one quick motion the blade goes through the man's cheek and exits the back of his head.

"I feel...I feel...reborn."

Saydo's tongue caresses his lips tasting the bitter blood of his victims as it trickles down his face.

-----------------------------
Later during the investigation the cops were befuddled to realize that nearly everyone's description of what happened differed greatly, almost as if it were surreal.

 

[Saved]

Nightmares Part VIII

Lost Haven

Eric Renden, the vigilante feared by the underworld known as Pulse, lies in his hospital bed. Eric still lies fast asleep, his body recovering from his severe injuries he sustained why trying to catch crime lord Franco Zano.

As Eric lies on the bed in the dark room, his mind thinks back on his past. His dreams replay his memories as if they were real. As Eric relives the past he thought he left behind, his mind begins to move toward a memory he hates and fears the most. This is no longer a dream for Eric. It is a nightmare.

Blitzen 1999

Sirens blare as flashing lights illuminate the dark streets of Blitzen. Eric Renden and Conner O’Brien drive in a squad car down the roads at high speeds, the traffic parting in front of them like the Red Sea did for Moses. As they make the sharp turns around corners and swerve down the streets, Eric looks over to Conner, a look of hope on his face.

“I heard they saw him do it this time. I mean, actually saw him do it.”

“Keep yourself together, Eric. Witnesses always mean more questions.”

“But this might be the first lead we’ve had in weeks! I mean, murder after murder, and no clue who this guy was.”

“Yes, I’ll have to admit the bodies of the victims didn’t seem to be related in anyway. A very disheartening discovery.”

“Still, it makes little difference. This is a large piece of the puzzle. And I have a feeling it will be just the piece we need.”

A few minutes later, the police car makes a screeching halt in front of a blockade of police cars. Their lights still flash as policemen scatter the area. Near the entrance to a building lies a dead body, cards and evidence markers cluttering the scene. Outside the perimeter stands the yellow tape, acting as a visual barrier to the onlookers.

Eric and Conner walk up to the yellow tape. Lifting it above their heads, they enter the crime scene. Eric pays close attention to the scene, noticing all the bullet casings, the blood stains, the position of the body, and the other curious details.

“DNA analysis of these blood stains. One of them could be our killer.”

“Man was Murphy Vidsen. Owned a shop in town.” One of the police officers explains, approaching the duo.

“How many witnesses?” Eric asks enthusiastically.

“Two. They’re en route to the station and when they arrive, we’ve promised them they’ll be put them under heavy surveillance. Finish your investigation here, take as long as you need. They’re waiting for you when your done” Eric nods to the officer, giving him a proud grin.

“Good work officer.” The officer nods back, and walks back, heading for his police car.

Eric turns back to the scene. Conner continues to stare inquisitively at the area, his eyes taking in every detail. Eric moves up, standing right by Conner’s side. He places his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath.

“Well, it looks like we’ve seen everything we need to see here. Let’s get back to the station.”

“Eric, we’ve been here all of two minutes. We have to make sure we’ve analyzed all the evidence here.”

“The witnesses are going back to the station. They have the information we need. The lab guys can give us their analysis on their findings here.”

“Don’t use the witnesses as a crutch, Eric. I always think of them as a bonus.” Suddenly, the officer from before runs up from his squad car. He jumps the yellow tape with ease, running up to Eric and Conner.

“Lieutenant! Agent!” He says with a heavy breath.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Just got a radio in. The car with the witnesses was attacked!” With expressions of shock and consternation, Eric and Conner look at the officer in disbelief.

“What, like someone took out the car?”

“No. They arrived at the police station as planned. As they exited the car, they were shot from a close distance. They're in critical condition.”

“What?” Eric asks, still in astonishment.

“Wait, wait.” Conner interrupts. “How close were the shots fired.”

“Between fifty and a seventy five yards.” Eric looks at Conner with an expression of anger.

“Sniper…” He says with a hiss.

“How is the officer on the scene?”

“He’s fine. He didn’t see anything though.”

“Come on, we better get down their now.”

The dream fades to black, and Eric’s mind shifts to the next memory. As if it were a play, the dream reopens at the police station. Ambulances and police cars contain the front of the building. The bodies are wheeled away on stretchers and into the ambulances. Moving with great haste, the medical transports head off down the road and toward the hospital. As an officer begins to set the yellow tape around the front of the station, Eric stands in the middle of the sidewalk. On either side of him are the outlines of the witnesses. Still parked at the curb is their transport, the vehicle untouched since the crime. Eric sighs heavily, staring at the white chalk figures with a heavy heart.

“He attacked us on our own turf.” He says to himself in a quiet voice. “Right in front of the police station. Right in front of everyone.” As Eric examines the scene, a small piece of paper resting on the ground catches his eye. He leans down the ground, a cold winter wind brushing past him. Eric grabs the note and holds it between his fingers, opening it carefully. As Eric reads the scrap of paper, his eyes widen. He crushes the paper between his fingers in rage. Eric looks up to the rooftops, rising to a stand.

“The bastard had this planned…” He whispers in a growl.

The image of the note plays back in Eric’s mind, the picture as clear as a photograph. The small paper read:

Agent Eric Renden,

You will not stop me. You cannot. If you continue your investigation, you will regret it. This is my only warning. Don’t be stupid.

Eric looks up and down the street, searching to see if the killer could be watching. With a nervous body, and an angered soul, Eric storms up the stairs into the police station, holding the note crumpled in his hand.

"You asked for it this time, killer."

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon​

Icon stands over the fallen android, looking around to survey the damage to the area and looking for anyone who may have been hurt in the melee. Just as he is about to leave the scene he hears a voice from behind him.​

"Wait, don't go just yet. We have a lot to discuss.....Scott."

"Who are you?" Icon asks the man who is now standing just a few feet away.

"I'm Dr. Carl Jenkins. But my name isn't important. What I can offer you, that is important." The man says as Icon just glares at him.

"And what's that?"

"Answers."

 

[EasternComfort]

The blood cleaned off well he thought, using his shirt as a towel. All that remained was a sticky patch on the front of his leather jacket he couldn't wash out but this could easily go for a split latte rather than blood. Only the smell could give him away now if people could even tell what it was. Beside him there was only seven other people in his train car and he was thankful of that. For the first time since the robbery he had time to think about what happened.

"Christ what did I do? What did I do!?!?!"

Nervously Saydo's hands started to shake as he tries to calm himself down to no avail.

"I...I'm a monster."

Turning his head Saydo caught a glance of himself in the mirror and froze. Staring back with a smile, eyes wide he could feel an overwhelming sense of exhilaration run throughout his body.

"You enjoyed it."

"No, no it was wrong."

"The blood flowing, the fear."

"That's not me, that was the drugs."

"You can feel it now, flowing through you, and you love it."

Slowly Saydo moves his blade along the side of his neck, his warm blood oozing down his neck until he could feel it on his chest.

"I'd rather die than be a murderer."

Like catching the whiff of a beautiful woman he quickly was overwhelmed with intoxication. He was drawn by a power, it unlike anything he had ever felt before. As he stood facing the eleven year old school girl he could taste her power. The girl coiled in fear as Saydo brooded over her entrenched by the power radiating from her. In a burst blue light Saydo's body flew backwards to a loud crash. His head and back smashing against the window sending cracks throughout with a few pieces dropping on him as his body finally lands on the floor. All the passengers standing and looking...

"What the hell just happened?"

"Dude you alright?"

"I've never seen anything like that."

Saydo gets up slowly feeling the pain throughout his body. Now standing still with his eyes closed he utters five words between slow deep breathes.

"Just a little bit more."

Shocked the passengers look at each other.

"What the F@#%?"

"That was goooood." Saydo says once again slowly moving toward the girl.

"Think you could do it again?" Exposing a knife with a smile on his face.

In the corner of his eye Saydo could see a man rushing him, turning with a flick of his wrist the knife the knife connects with the man's head going right through his eye.

Quickly turning back he could see the beginning sparks leaving the little girls hand and then begin to flicker and die out as if the energy was being drawn back into her.

"Hahahaha."

Holding another knife at his side.

"Now, it's my turn."

 

[EasternComfort]

It's been thirty-seven hours that Saydo had been up and it was beginning to take it's toll. He could remember seeing reports on when people crashed on SPIRO and it wasn't pretty. There had been so many deaths even druggies knew enough to stay away from the stuff. At any moment he felt he could collapse his body was so weak. "Keep moving godd@mmit, if you pass out your dead." Placing both hands on a door he regained what balance he had. He prayed Roger was home because he didn't know where else to go. "Roger." His voice become hoarse and began to crack. "Roog...Roogg." Saydo's body went limp as if all the strength he had holding himself up had vanished as he dropped to the concrete floor below him.

Images began to play across his hazy mind so lucid as if it were reality.

It's 1984 and Charles Russell is six years old.

"Chaaarlieeee!"

He walks down the stairs terrified. "Yes momma."

"I told you to stay the away from that Smith boy."

"But he's my friend momma."

"He, like his sinner family has accepted that false idol and is headed straight to the depths of hell. Is that what you want? Well I won't let that happen!"

Mrs. Russell takes off her belt.

"Please momma."

The images get worse, things that didn't happen, couldn't have happened. In his mind he couldn't tell the difference between memory and nightmare. If you were ODing on SPIRO your heart would beat faster and faster as the images got worse and then your heart would just give. The lucky ones like Saydo got to live but at a cost, the trade off might not have been so great. Saydo could faintly hear sounds but it took him a minute to understand them.

"Charles. Charles can you hear me?"

Opening his eyes he could see a man looking down on him as he tried to recognize where he was.

"Who are you?"

"Charles it's me Roger, your friend."

Sitting up he had no idea where he was or who this man was.

"I'm sorry I don't know you."

"Don't get up." The man placing his hand on Saydo's chest and slightly directing him back. "The drugs are still affecting your cognition but you'll be fine. Go back to sleep, when you get up we'll talk."

Laying back down Saydo closes his eyes thinking to himself hopefully this time the nightmares have gone away for good.

 

[Karem-Knight]

Edit.

 

[Karem-Knight]

Edit.

 

[Feature]

AGNUS DEI
Season I - Part 18


The amnesic and Brendan Cronin sat across from eachother, while Ernest Block watched closely, his pistol in hand.

"Someone was here? Someone came here looking for you?"

The amnesiac nodded.

"Yes. She... this woman... she claimed to know about me. She wanted to know if I'd seen you."

"Me?"

"Yes. She described you. Called you by name... Brendan."

Brendan stared at the floor. You could almost hear the cogs turning in his head.

"I need for you to tell me what's happening here. I need to know who I am who's behind this. Tell me who the woman is."

"As I told you before, the more you know, the more danger you are in."

"I don't care! I need to--"

"Listen to me! I want you to survive! I was the one who helped you escape! But if you've got to lay low for awhile and let things cool down... otherwise they'll come for you. They'll come for you and there won't be a damn thing I can do about it."

The room fell silent for a moment.

"That woman tried to kill me. She can find me. I need to know who she is... to protect myself."

"I can't give you that information yet."

"The hell you can't!"

Block approached Cronin, aiming his pistol at the man's head.

"I don't know who you are, buddy, but I know who I am... Chief of Police. So, if you think you're going to walk out of here without saying a goddamn word, let me tell you: you're wrong!"

Cronin twisted in his chair and looked at Block... at the pistol. His mouth curled into a hateful, angry line.

"Tell the kid who that woman was or I'll take you downtown right now. Get you a nice little suite with a real attentive roommate. Understand?"

Cronin spoke to the amnesiac without taking his eyes off Block and the gun.

"She is like you. Someone I helped escape from them years ago. But because she couldn't do what I asked... because she was too curious and too vengeful... she's had to live her life forever on the run."

"But why was she here? Why did she want to kill me?"

"I wish I could say. I wish I understood one single thing that goes on in that brain of hers... but I haven't spoken to her years. When she decided to strike back at them, she made it impossible for me to help her."

"Them. Who are they, these people behind it all?"

Cronin no longer seethed with rage. He smiled, looking down the barrel of Block's gun.

"They would frighten you, Mr. Block. If you understood who they were and what they were capable of, you wouldn't sleep at night. You'd turn that pistol around and pull the trigger."

Angry, Block's finger tightened around the trigger, causing Cronin to chuckle.

"They are far beyond your reach, Block... as am I. You are a pigeon among cats. And you would do well to adopt more submissive mannerisms."

With that, Brendan Cronin soundlessly dissapeared. Block didn't know whether to tremble in fear or simply gape in awe.

 

[EasternComfort]

For what it's worth:
Part 1

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Sweat covered his body and he was trembling under the horror of his dreams. Waking to your own screams was something Charles thought he was over but the drug fueled nightmares were worse than he had ever experienced. Rushing over he could see the blurry image of his friend Roger. A sense of ease and good feeling sweep over his nightmarish thoughts like water putting out a flame. In the cover of his eye he could see Roger putting something down and pulling a chair close to Charles bed.

"What I gave you is a mild sedative, give it a couple of minutes and then you should be fine to move around."

Turning his head to Roger he asked. "What happened?"

"You were crashing on SPIRO when you got here, that was two days ago."

"What? Two days ago?" Confused he sat up on his bed never taking his eyes off of his friend.

"You've been in and out of consciousness while your body was getting used to not having the drug."

Beside or maybe because of the sedative he felt fine as if nothing had happened but he knew...he couldn't remember but Charles knew something terrible had happened and it was his fault.

"How do you feel Charlie?"

Walking for the first time since he stumbled to Roger's door he was surprised to feel great, at least his body felt that way. Roger put his hands on Charles shoulder and looked into his eye was a straight face.

"Charles, we need to talk."

He knows. Charles thought to himself. Please be about the drugs and not about whatever I did. The thought of his closest friend thinking he was a monster sat with him as he stood with anticipation to his friends next words.

"We've known each other since you were an undergrad and I was your mentor. You know I care deeply about you and only want the best for you."

Charles could no longer take the wait interrupting Roger. "Please just tell me."

Roger stood for five seconds looking down and then face to face he spoke slow but calmly maybe to ease what he would say.

"What do you remember about the day you got here?"

"I...I" putting his hand to the side of his forehead Charles tries to remember.

"Think Charles think!"

Closing his eyes images appear, at first fuzzy but become clearer as if focusing a camera.

"There is a man laying on the floor looking up to me. His face, such horror in his face as he holds the side of his face. There is blood squirting everywhere, all over my clothes, even on my face and hands. But?"

Roger moves to his desk grabbing two items and placing it in Charles hand; one a bag full of money the other a newspaper.

 

[Piles]

Canberra. Australia.

It was cold. Dark. Wet. Not a very nice setting. The act being committed was hardly a glamorous one. It was despicable. But in rich sunlight even a fight can look elegant or regal. Here? The desperate struggle was nothing to behold, but still they gathered round to watch. The kid was scrawny… hair messed up in a fashion that, in the present time, would be considered an acceptable style. His clothes hung off him, clearly hand-me-downs from his equally poor brother. The boys around him were much larger, and if I were to tell you that they were the same age you wouldn’t believe me.

“Hit him, Rod!” one of the boys said. They were baying for blood in a way that went past your usual childhood infatuations with fights or violence. They circled the smaller boy, who was down on all fours like a dog, blood being spewed up from his mouth and his nose. The largest boy, Rod, took a running start before driving a foot into the little boy’s face. He felt something break, and wanted to let out a yelp, but screaming would only make them hit harder. He simply rolled over onto his back, staring up at the dark sky as the thunder begun to roar. Phlegm and blood escaped his mouth one last time.

“Get up! You little punk!” Rod shouted as the rest of the little boys laughed at their smaller counterparts groans. The boy placed his palms against the concrete to the side of him, forcing himself back onto his knees. He tilted his head to face his pursuer, who looked visually angry that the boy had had the gall to follow his commands. With one last exertion of effort and energy, he forced his way back to a vertical base, and immediately wished he hadn’t.

The largest kid charged at him, taking him up in a rugby tackle that lifted the scrawny boy up off his feet completely. He drove him back into the back door of some bar or café-restaurant that sat on the high street. Canberra was hardly known for its exuberant nightlife, and in the dark back-alley that they were in, the boys stood next to no chance of being found. The smallest boy’s head smashed off the door and he hit the ground, hard, rolling over and knocking a few steel bars onto the ground, too. The circular girder begun to roll away from the boy, and – as he closed his eyes to block out the image of the forbidding sky – he heard it fall of the curb and onto the road.

But, without any respite, he felt himself being hoisted up again. He was being taken away from the wall and up the alley. He let go. They could do what they wish, god knows that they would. He’d given up thinking ‘why’ years ago, some people are just meant to be bullied.

“In the dumpster!” one of the boys laughed, in his high-pitched hyena-like cackle. The scrawny kid opened his eyes, he was being carried towards a yellow dumpster, filled to the brim with metallic artefacts. He began to struggle. Another bout of thunder. The boys just digged him in the ribs and pressed on, forcing him towards the rubbish container. Towards his destiny.

They thrust him over the lip and into the dumpster, and he felt his body clatter against the steel with a sickening thud. Various pointed corners of the steel and the iron dug into his skin, causing him to struggle around looking for an easier resting place. There was none.

Thunder. Lightning. Shock. Darkness.

*****​

Some time later

His eyes opened. He didn’t know how long he’d been out for. It could have been hour, days, weeks… he wouldn’t have known. He lived on the streets, and the concept of time was lost on him. There was no school, no work, no early start or late finishes, life was just life… and he hated it all the more for it.

The metal was still all about him, jagged edges poking into his skin and flesh and every given opportunity. With a hasty intake of breath, he managed to lift himself up once more and stepped down onto the pavement. He almost fell down to the ground on wobbly legs, but managed – somehow – to keep his stability. The shock had taken a lot out of him, and it was a wonder how he’d survived it at all. He looked down at his body; he was completely naked. He turned around and looked back into the dumpster for any sign of his clothes, but all that was left was ripped fragments of fabric.

He took a step forwards out of the shadows, but at the site of the many people passing by the open mouth of the alleyway, he quickly jumped back in, hiding himself from the view. All he needed was an indecent exposure charge and some kind of fine. God knows he barely had enough money to feed himself. He looked down at his body one more time, somehow expecting to come up with an idea, but just as quickly looked away again…

…and then back…

He saw something zoom up his arm. A speck of silver. His eyes chased it, but soon he lost it amongst a pool of similar specks, each one of them building a seemingly random path around his modest bicep. He stared harder… straight lines with rough, sharp turns, disappearing again as soon as they were made. He looked down at his body… each and every inch below his neck was covered in similar oddities. He held up his hands. The specks stopped at his wrists and turned back to forge new paths, as if they knew that that was where normal clothing would stop.

He felt… strange. Each movement of the pixels caused a strange sensation to echo around his body, and he felt… different. Almost external. Something came over him. He had full control of his body, but he didn’t know why the sudden urge came over him. He turned back to the dumpster, beholding it for a few seconds before stepping back towards it. He placed his hands against it, and as he caressed the metal he heard a slight clink of metal on metal. Without a second thought, he pushed forwards.

The dumpster yielded, moving forwards at the slightest pressure.

With an exertion of energy, he moved his fingertips down to the bottom of the dumpster, placing them under the lip. His digits grazed against the tarmac underneath the dumpster, and with a grimace and a strain of the eyes, he lifted the dumpster upwards. It was almost light to him. Soon he realised he didn’t need to grimace or strain, and instead he concentrated on balancing rather than lifting. It was above his head… the whole dumpster and its contents… double-digit tons of pure metallic matter.

He stared out over at the opening in front of him. Across the road lay a park, riddled with tall oak trees, and behind them the sun was just beginning to extend its reach into the skies.

 

[Eddie Brock]

Season I, Part 67

Ok, Sean, as scary at this sounds...you're going to have to fight with your head now. I know, I know, you don't like it. But what are you going to do? Punch the guy made of flame? Please, tell me how that works out. Exactly. So let's think for a second here.

"Where is your confidence now, boy?!" Crystalline scoffs as he launches his fiery body at me. I drop to the ground gracefully to avoid the attack. Nonetheless, I feel the heat searing my body as Crystalline rushes past.

I neglect to respond to his taunt. In truth, my confidence is pretty shaken. It's not every day that I face an opponent that I can't fight outright. Frankly, I don't like doing this the 'smart' way. Sometimes it's just satisfying to hit a guy.

But I don't have that option.

I glance over my shoulder at Carver Lake. It's my only hope. After all, I'm no chemist, but I know that water and fire don't mix. Now, I have to trick Crystalline into falling in somehow. I perform a strategic backflip and plant my heels on the edge of the sidewalk. Three inches further, and I would be a soggy superhero.

"There's nowhere left to run!"

Who said I'm running? Your assumptions will be your downfall, my friend.

Crystalline thrusts himself at me again. I stare anxiously at the moving fireball as it approaches. I really have to sell this, so I can't jump until the last possible second. That blows.

Finally, as Crystalline is about to cook me to medium well, I leap effortlessly into the air. The fireball's momentum continues until gravity pulls it into the murky waters of Carver Lake. I watch as steam rises up from where Crystalline sank. Unfortunately, if I'm right - and surprisingly, I usually am about this kind of thing - he's not done.

On the other hand, I've bought myself time.

"Does anyone have a container?" I ask urgently of the assembled crowd of onlookers. They all stare at me like I asked in Pig Latin. I begin to become exasperated until one, lone woman steps forward with a jar of pickles. "Do you mind?" I ask rhetorically as I take the jar slowly from her hands.

I remove the lid and dump the jar's contents onto the street. The woman doesn't respond. I think she's still dumbfounded by the fact that Lost Haven's Emerald Enforcer just spoke to her. I turn back to Carver Lake, and I watch the surface begin to slush about. I was right.

I plant my feet and brace myself as a watery figure rises up. Crystalline had absorbed his new form, just as I suspected. After all, it's never that easy.

Like a bad Mummy rip-off, Crystalline launches his watery body at me in the form of a small tidal wave. Reaching out, I catch as much of him as I can in the empty jar. I quickly slam the lid down. Just as I'd hoped, the remaining water splashes lifelessly on the ground. When separated from Crystalline's main body, the water loses its consciousness.

That was a big hope that I was riding on.

The contents inside the jar splash about fervently as Crystalline tries to escape his new prison. Unfortunately for him, he's going nowhere for a long time. I hand the jar back to its previous owner.

"Do me a favor? Give this to the police when they arrive. Oh, and don't drop it."

And so I leap off in the direction of Brady High School. Along the way, I realize that I face a different conflict back there. I still have to figure out this Brooke situation. Compared to that, Crystalline seemed almost enjoyable.
​

 

[Keyser Soze]

“You’re a nobody.”

Walter Worthington Wagstaff muttered the words to himself as he stood on the edge of the bridge, trying to summon the courage to throw himself into the river below. What had he done with his life? He was in his 30s, and still lived with his mother. He worked for a paper-clip company. He had no friends, no love life. He was a nobody.

The notion of killing himself had come to him quite out of the blue. He’d been driving along this empty bridge, looking out the window. Then, he’s just stopped his car, got out, and worked his way out here. It felt so natural, so right at the time. But now, now he was terrified. He clung tightly onto the scaffolding unwilling to take that leap into oblivion. God, he was such a coward. He couldn’t even succeed at suicide!

No, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the guts. Propping his glasses up on his nose, Walter turned around, and started to climb up off the side of the bridge and back onto the road. But then his foot slipped. For one frenzied moment, he grasped wildly, searching for something to hold onto. But he only grabbed air. And before he knew it, he was falling backwards, falling to his death.

This is it. Death. And the funny thing is, nobody would even notice…

 

[Piles]

“This is, simply, incredible!” the Doctor said in his thick German accent as Luke Joseph sat up from the X-ray table. The doctor rubbed the sweat off his forehead which he’d worked up in his complete exasperation. The young man tilted his head to face the scientist, waiting for the verdict. The doctor shook his head and addressed his young counterpart with his eyes. “I’ve never seen anything like this! It’s… phenomenal!”

The seventeen year old continued to stare at the doctor, waiting for some sort of elaboration. The scientist continued to simply scratch his forehead, staring at Luke’s body, his eyes tracing the lines that the silver specks were leaving. His smile was infectious, and Luke let out a snicker before prying for more information.

“So?” he asked, snapping the doctor out of his trance.

“Oh!” the doctor replied, laughing at himself. He moved over to the boy, pointing a finger at one of these specks. “These dots. These specks… they’re metallic antibodies, Luke, dwelling inside of you. I don’t know how to explain it, but when that lightning bolt collided with the dumpster, something happened. Your DNA must have somehow… I don’t know how to put it… bonded with the metallic molecules. They’re a part of you, Luke, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to remove them.”

“Pardon?” the kid asked, reaching over to the edge of the table and picking up his shirt. He pulled it over his head, hiding his metallic antibodies from the view of the doctor. The scientist snapped back into reality, as if emerging out of a lengthy dream.

“There’s nothing else I can tell you,” he said, shaking his head and trying to rid himself of his smiles. “I’m afraid that you’ll have to live with these things inside of you. The metal is a part of you, and you are a part of the metal.”

“You’re wrong.” The kid said, his eyes glaring into his counterpart’s, all expression drained out of his face. “There must be something you can do.”

“If there was, don’t you think I’d have told you?” the doctor asked, his eyes still attempting to pierce a hole in the boy’s shirt in order to reveal the antidotes once more. “Luke, I don’t think you realise what has happened here. You told me… the dumpster… you lifted it over your head?”

The kid nodded. He didn’t think he liked where this was going.

“Then I think it’s clear what has happened here!” the doctor said. Luke stared at him, blank faced. “Divine. Intervention!”

Luke shook his head and sighed in mockery. He always found it funny that the Doctor, one of the most forefront names in modern science, believe that every invention or discovery that he or his colleagues made was in some way the work of a higher power. Someone who didn’t know him would say he was just modest and didn’t want the credit, but Luke knew better. The Doctor was as ego-centric as the next man, only he would exclaim ‘eureka! The good lord has chosen me!’ after a big discovery instead of ‘eureka! Look what I’ve done!’

“I think you’re being a little over the top, Doc.” Luke said, hopping up off the table and standing to a vertical base. “Run some tests. Do whatever you need to do to get rid of this curse. This thing’s like a bad smell.”

He picked up his coat and flung it over his shoulder before beginning his walk across the room towards the door. The Doctor placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder, causing the young man to turn around and face him once more.

“I don’t think you understand what this means.” He said, shaking his head with a grim, grave expression. “Remember your mother? Remember what happened to her? This is your chance, Luke. Imagine what you could do with these powers… You’d be a modern day super hero, kid! Imagine that?”

Luke heard what he said, but he wasn’t really listening. He shrugged the Doc’s hand off his shoulder, and exited the room.​

 

[NiteMare Shape]

Icon​

Icon sits somewhat impatiently as the helicopter finally begins its decent to the landing pad on top of the facility. The ride took what seemed forever, especially for a man who could cross entire continents in a matter of minutes if he so chooses.

As the chopper closes in on the rooftop, Icon sees some commotion as several armed security guards take their positions on the roof, forming a perimeter around a single man in a suit.

"That's Dr. Cruz, he's the head of the organization." Jenkins said, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of the chopper's rotors.

Icon looked to Jenkins and nodded, in order to acknowledge that he had heard what he said. A moment later the rotors stopped and Icon was standing on the landing pad with Jenkins at his side. Dr. Cruz approached the two men, a big smile on his face with his hand extended for Icon to shake.

"Icon, its a real pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Jonathan Cruz. Welcome to Valor Industries."

"Good to meet you Dr. Cruz. Isn't this a bit much for a meet and greet? I'm not exactly the hardest person to find."

"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you are here now. Please, let us go to my office, I'm sure you have a lot of questions for us."

"I do. Dr. Jenkins promised me answers, and to be perfectly honest with you Doctor, I am more than alittle curious."

"All in due time, Icon. Let's go inside, you'll find my office much more comfortable."

Icon followed Cruz and Jenkins inside the building, down a long hall toward Cruz's office.

 

[Piles]

Whenever you gain any new abilities or possessions, the first thing that you have to do is tame them. This may be a subconscious decision, almost subliminal or automatic, but you make the decision nonetheless. When you buy your children a new toy or computer game, notice that they’ll always have to beat the first level before they can come off it, thus placing the object under their authority. Even when adults get a new car, the first thing they’ll do is take it for a spin, maybe going faster than they’d ever normally expect to go. They are taming their possessions.

However, when your new possession is something that nobody has ever seen or even heard of before, taming it becomes a little harder to do.

Luke held his arm out in front of him, rotating it around as far as he could to the right before reversing it back towards the left. The metallic antibodies were running unchecked around it, each one of them only changing their paths when they collided with each other, and even then they seemed to do it begrudgingly. The path was entirely random, and nothing could be deduced from it. He remembered the Doctor’s words earlier in the day:

“Luke, your state is excited, your heart beat is raised and therefore the blood is being pumped through your arteries and veins at an alarming rate, and thus the metallic antibodies are moving with them. It’s a wonder that you’re still alive, Luke, it really is. Nevertheless, in this condition, with the antibodies flying around your system at the pace they are, it’s impossible for me to conduct any kind of analysis. All I can tell you, Luke, is to calm down.”

Being calm had not come naturally to Luke since the incident. In fact, his mind was as much of a mess as his body. He hadn’t told the doctor this, but in all honestly his brain was swamped with thoughts that he could not explain. They seemed to barrage off of each other, amplifying in volume, slurring Luke’s vision and impairing all of his other senses.

”…the dumpster… the dumpster… remember the dumpster…” “…you could be a hero, Luke, a hero…” “…calm, be calm, just be calm…” “it’s a wonder you’re still alive…”

They were memories, he’d concluded, from very recent times. It appeared that he was finding hard to store them, and if anybody had asked him anything about his past, he would have had to think about it long and hard before he could give any kind of answer. Not that there was anyone around to ask him anything anyway.

He sat on a lowly corner of a street, backside getting cold and wet from the doorstep that he was inhabiting. He looked out over the square. Everything looked peaceful and pleasant for other people, walking around in their corporate suits with their high-powered jobs and social stature. Luke pulled his sleeve back, the antibodies were still zooming. No matter how much of an outsider he was before, if anyone managed to see these then they’d have a field day. They were his secret and they had to stay that way.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, music begun to play from some corner of the square. Luke’s head shot towards the direction of it… some kind of bar. But this music, it wasn’t the sort of music that you’d expect to hear from such a place. It was ‘Che soave zeffiretto’ by Mozart, and it was the first time that Luke had ever heard such music. He breathed in, staring at the people within the bar. They were looking at the jukebox, and in particular the man who had chosen this piece who was sitting right by it, with an expression of mockery or even disdain. They didn’t understand. They didn’t know what it felt like to hear this piece for the first time.

Luke kept staring, but soon his vision went simply black. He begun to dissect the music, taking in each note at a time. For the first time in what seemed like years, the corners of his lips curled up into a small, uncomfortable smile.

He was calm, and his body seemed to have calmed with him. He couldn’t feel the antibodies any more.

He opened his eyes, and to his shock, he found dozens of pairs staring back at him. The smile disappeared, and he stood up. Each and every one of them looked space, their faces trying to comprehend what was before them. Luke turned around to the door, staring at his face and his hands. He was… metallic. All of him... steel. The people were closing in on him, he turned back to them, before beginning to run across the wall. He turned back to stare at the crowd, and he realised that they a few of them were beginning to chase after him. He wondered why… maybe to stare and poke fun, or maybe just to be nosey, or maybe they wanted to get rid of the freak. He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to know.

He turned a corner, before diving around a second into an alley, backing up against a wall. He tilted his head slyly to the opening to see fifteen of his pursuers pass by the mouth of it. His heartbeat was rifling again, and a brief look down at his hands revealed that his excited state had brought back to him whatever normality he possessed before. Breathing huskily and sighing in relief, he left the alleyway once more. No one would recognise him when he was normal.

 

[EasternComfort]

For what it's worth:
Part 2

Charles didn't even look at the words, the picture of the bank, the victims was all he needed. He could remember the whole bank robbery down to the slightest detail. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick but he felt nothing.

"This isn't me." he looked up to Roger "I mean."

"Paranoia, Violence, Feeling of invincibility they are all side effects of the drugs Charles I know that wasn't you."

"Thhhhee Drugs." Charles said not sure if he was trying to convince himself or if he believed it. Deep down he always felt he was a good person who wanted to help people but...but there was always anger there. Anger at his childhood, his parents and the future that he always felt he should have had. Was the drugs the cause or merely the trigger to something else inside of him. No, no it must have been the drugs fault I would never do anything like that. He thought.

"Charles?"

Roger said trying to snap Charles out of his confused, self-absorbed state.

"We need to get you some help so you don't hurt anybody else."

Saydo stood silent for a second, processing everything that was going on.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Saydo screamed as he grabbed the Roger by the neck with both hands lifting him against the wall.

"Your not taking me in to the cops or to some quack who will keep me drugged the rest of my life."

"That's right kill him, splatter his blood."

Saydo lowered his head, still holding the man in place.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Looking back up to the man pinned against the wall Saydo brought himself face to face with the man. Roger's face turned red as he struggled in vain to wrestle Charles hands from his neck. A few seconds later Saydo could hear the gurgling sounds as his friend finally stopped struggling. Roger's body hit the floor lifeless, eyes rolled in the back of his head.

"You fool." Saydo said seeing his friend lifeless on the floor next to him. "You knew, you knew I wouldn't let you take me and you tried anyway. Goddamn you Roger, I would never...I never wanted to hurt you."

 

[MadRhapsody]

BANG! BANGBANGBANG!

The creature screeched in pain as bullets plugged into its body, unable to move as the shots kept coming. It was so close to draining the blood out of the helpless woman, until a creature with black and white wings crashed in through the window to stop it. It attempted to fight the twilight but to no avail. She was too fast. And now it died a very painful death with a final bullet piercing through its skull.

Twilight Goddess stared at the demonic-like creature, smoke trailing from the barrels of her twin magnums. For a moment she stood, silent, before taking a few steps towards it. The first thing she noticed out of the ordinary was the creature's blood was green. It wasn't a demon.

Could it be an alien?

She wasn't sure, for she had never been anywhere outside of Earth in her thousands of years of living. Suddenly, she jumped back as the dead alien disintegrated into nothing but ash. That was something else out of the ordinary. Where did it come from, and why did it come here? She turned back, walking out of the kitchen to check on the woman who ran into the living room, holstering her guns and stopping a few feet before her. She looked terrified, and rightfully so. The heroine reached a hand out to her.

"It's alright, the thing's dead."

"Oh thank you, Twilight Goddess... thank you so much!"

The woman took her hand and she pulled her up onto her feet, her legs a bit wobbly before regaining composure. The Twilight Goddess nodded her head and looked back towards the kitchen, taking out from a small purse some money and handing it to the woman.

"This is for the window."

"Oh, no, that's not necessary--"

She shook her head, said it was alright, and took off out the door. Her angel and demon wings stretched out to catch the wind, the sun slowly rising as day came to life. She wondered, what if there were more aliens? New York was notorious for supernatural hazards. She decided to fly through the city, her eyes searching.

“You’re a nobody.”

Walter Worthington Wagstaff muttered the words to himself as he stood on the edge of the bridge, trying to summon the courage to throw himself into the river below. What had he done with his life? He was in his 30s, and still lived with his mother. He worked for a paper-clip company. He had no friends, no love life. He was a nobody.

The notion of killing himself had come to him quite out of the blue. He’d been driving along this empty bridge, looking out the window. Then, he’s just stopped his car, got out, and worked his way out here. It felt so natural, so right at the time. But now, now he was terrified. He clung tightly onto the scaffolding unwilling to take that leap into oblivion. God, he was such a coward. He couldn’t even succeed at suicide!

No, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the guts. Propping his glasses up on his nose, Walter turned around, and started to climb up off the side of the bridge and back onto the road. But then his foot slipped. For one frenzied moment, he grasped wildly, searching for something to hold onto. But he only grabbed air. And before he knew it, he was falling backwards, falling to his death.

This is it. Death. And the funny thing is, nobody would even notice…

Thus far, she did not see any aliens, not a single sign.

This can't be right... where there's one, there are others nearby...

Flying slowly, she flaps her wings and glides towards ground level, getting a closer look... and noticing a man, a bridge and a river. She tenses, watching him slip and fall backwards towards the cold waters. In the air, she was five times her ground speed, as she flew out and extended her arms out. Managing to tuck them under his arms, she flies up, carrying his rather skinny weight, and lands next to the bridge. She gently drops him on the grass and settles her feet down beside him.

"You should be a little more careful."

 

[Keyser Soze]

Thus far, she did not see any aliens, not a single sign.

This can't be right... where there's one, there are others nearby...

Flying slowly, she flaps her wings and glides towards ground level, getting a closer look... and noticing a man, a bridge and a river. She tenses, watching him slip and fall backwards towards the cold waters. In the air, she was five times her ground speed, as she flew out and extended her arms out. Managing to tuck them under his arms, she flies up, carrying his rather skinny weight, and lands next to the bridge. She gently drops him on the grass and settles her feet down beside him.

"You should be a little more careful."

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGH!"

Walter was plummeting to his death, hurtling through the night sky at a sickening speed. But then, something caught him. He clamped his eyes tightly shut, and when he opened them...he was safely on land, sitting on grass. He checked himself over, and discovered he was unharmed.

"I'm alive. I'm alive! HA HA!"

He then became aware of the winged woman watching him. He looked at her in awe, his mouth agape. Then, when realising he was staring at a beautiful woman, he pulled his eyes away, and focused them firmly on the ground, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot.

"I.....uh....I didn't jump. I....I slipped..."

Casting a sideways glance at the woman, Walter forced himself to ask her a question.

"What are you, an...an angel? Wait...wait a second....I'm not dead, am I?"

 

[MadRhapsody]

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGH!"

Walter was plummeting to his death, hurtling through the night sky at a sickening speed. But then, something caught him. He clamped his eyes tightly shut, and when he opened them...he was safely on land, sitting on grass. He checked himself over, and discovered he was unharmed.

"I'm alive. I'm alive! HA HA!"

He then became aware of the winged woman watching him. He looked at her in awe, his mouth agape. Then, when realising he was staring at a beautiful woman, he pulled his eyes away, and focused them firmly on the ground, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot.

"I.....uh....I didn't jump. I....I slipped..."

Casting a sideways glance at the woman, Walter forced himself to ask her a question.

"What are you, an...an angel? Wait...wait a second....I'm not dead, am I?"

She reaches down and places a hand on his cheek, lightly pinching his cheek. He reacts with an "Ouch!" and almost stumbles back, and she smirks a little.

"If you were dead, you wouldn't have felt that."

Bringing that hand back at her side, she looks at him with bemusement. He was older than twenty, and yet he seemed more like a child. Or maybe she looked at him that way because of how old she was. She shakes her head and laughs softly, looking into his eyes.

"I'm the Twilight Goddess; half angel, half demon."

 

[Keyser Soze]

She reaches down and places a hand on his cheek, lightly pinching his cheek. He reacts with an "Ouch!" and almost stumbles back, and she smirks a little.

"If you were dead, you wouldn't have felt that."

Bringing that hand back at her side, she looks at him with bemusement. He was older than twenty, and yet he seemed more like a child. Or maybe she looked at him that way because of how old she was. She shakes her head and laughs softly, looking into his eyes.

"I'm the Twilight Goddess; half angel, half demon."

"I....umm....I see...."

Walter looked down at the ground again, sticking his hands in his pockets. He opened his mouth a couple of times, as if trying to speak, only to close it again. Then, all of a sudden, he turned and ran.

"Kgottagothankyousomuchbye!"

And then he didn't stop running, and didn't even turn around until he'd reached his car again. He got in, breathing heavy. Half angel, half demon. And she was flying around, saving people. This was insane. It was like Walter had just bumped into a real-life...a real-life...

"Superhero. A real-life superhero."

Wagstaff drove off in his car, headed home.

 

[MadRhapsody]

"I....umm....I see...."

Walter looked down at the ground again, sticking his hands in his pockets. He opened his mouth a couple of times, as if trying to speak, only to close it again. Then, all of a sudden, he turned and ran.

"Kgottagothankyousomuchbye!"

And then he didn't stop running, and didn't even turn around until he'd reached his car again. He got in, breathing heavy. Half angel, half demon. And she was flying around, saving people. This was insane. It was like Walter had just bumped into a real-life...a real-life...

"Superhero. A real-life superhero."

Wagstaff drove off in his car, headed home.

Well, that was interesting.

She watched him go rather quickly, her expression of amusement never leaving her face. He was still young, for a human being. She did notice a certain look on his face, one that showed inspiration and awe. Most of the time when people were like that, good things came out of it. Perhaps he was going to do something efficient with his life for the first time.

Tilting her blue visor down, she observed the scenery quietly, staring at the dazzling river. She sat down on the slightly damp grass, her wings folding behind her back, relaxing, as well as the rest of her body. Her senses weren't going haywire; there didn't seem to be any trouble in the city... at least for the time being.

Her eyes lulled shut and she began to hum a gentle tune.

 

[BlackAngel]

"Hmph...A bunch of insects...ready to be squashed.."

She stands on top of a skyscraper, her long black hair flowing in the wind. Nothing caught her interest, but people ready to be killed and a city ready to be destroyed. Anna-Maria's demon wings sprout from her back and flies around some people, circling them. She started blowing fire from her mouth, burning innocent people.

" Yes, Burn, BURN you wretched beings!!!"

Enjoying the screams of people, as if it was music to her ears, a few are suffering from the fire and dying. Anna-Maria, just laughed mocklingly, flying around again, eying a building, she slightly narrows her emerald green eyes. setting part of it on fire. Oh, how she loves fire, and playing with it. She flew down to the ground, folding her wings behind her back. A big smirk on her face, as she encounters a little boy, hiding in the corner, who was shaking in fear. Anna-Maria pulls out her Twin Katanas of Black fire, pointing them at the small boy.

"Please...please don't hurt me..."

" Don't hurt you!!?? I would never spare a useless worm like you.."

Without hesitation, she went in for the kill.

 

[MadRhapsody]

"Hmph...A bunch of insects...ready to be squashed.."

She stands on top of a skyscraper, her long black hair flowing in the wind. Nothing caught her interest, but people ready to be killed and a city ready to be destroyed. Anna-Maria's demon wings sprout from her back and flies around some people, circling them. She started blowing fire from her mouth, burning innocent people.

" Yes, Burn, BURN you wretched beings!!!"

Enjoying the screams of people, as if it was music to her ears, a few are suffering from the fire and dying. Anna-Maria, just laughed mockingly, flying around again, eying a building, she slightly narrows her emerald green eyes. setting part of it on fire. Oh, how she loves fire, and playing with it. She flew down to the ground, folding her wings behind her back. A big smirk on her face, as she encounters a little boy, hiding in the corner, who was shaking in fear. Anna-Maria pulls out her Twin Katanas of Black fire, pointing them at the small boy.

"Please...please don't hurt me..."

" Don't hurt you!!?? I would never spare a useless worm like you.."

Without hesitation, she went in for the kill.

'For the time being' was too short. It was only fifteen minutes before her senses were reacting towards a very powerful force. This force was evil, like the alien's, but far more dangerous.

The sounds of destruction and suffering ran chills down her spine, and she looked towards east of the city, seeing a building begin to be slowly consumed by fire. Upon careful listening, she heard people screaming and writhing in pain, and she narrowed her eyes. She stood up and her wings stretched out again, running and jumping off the bridge-- only to fly up.

"Can't there be a day when New York is peaceful?"

Doubtful. The Twilight Goddess flew as fast as she could, looking up as the clouds were beginning to gather. Perhaps if there was enough friction, it would rain. She hoped for the best... but seeing people die, engulfed in flames, twisted a knot in her stomach. It reminded her of the past, the time when the demons invaded Earth, and... she shook her head. It was not the time to reflect on that.

At least fire fighters were on their way to hopefully put out the fire of the building. They would defend the citizens as well, those that were still alive. Now it was her job to fight off what, or who, was causing the suffering. And it didn't take too long to find a little boy, petrified before the powerful force. She dived down from the sky, right when the demon was going to kill the screaming boy.

"AHHH!"

"Got'cha!"

She was fast enough to lift the boy out of the swords' range. Quickly, she brought him to the fire fighters in the distance and told them to take caution. She drew her magnums and fired bullets towards the new enemy, keeping her further away from the innocents, and closing the distance between the two of them.

"A villain who wears pink? That is so f***ing hilarious."