Police Girl (Worm/Hellsing)

No worm mega thread in CrW like SB/SV.

1.1|1.2|1.3|1.4|1.5|1.6
2.1

1.1

Walking down the narrow corridor of Winslow High, I suppressed the smouldering ball of hatred growing in my chest at the murmured gossip spread by Emma’s cronies.

“I heard she did the whole football team, at once!” A short, mousy girl whispered to her blonde cheerleader friend.

“Only way she’d get a guy to sniff her” Was the snippy reply.

“What’s that stink!” One of the more fashionably dressed hanger-on’s tittered, as I stepped past her small group. I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to hurt someone.

Partly to practice and in part to distract myself from my anger, I focused on what I could smell through my nose. A pseudo form of meditation I started sorting through and cataloguing the plethora of scents that permeated the air. Hormones, cigarettes, leather and steel, and the heavenly scent of warm blood pumping through veins, focusing on the chaotic cesspit of odours I felt my anger recede.

At my next class’s door I stopped, one of the trio, shared this class with me. Madison wasn’t as effective as Sophia and Emma at hurting me either physically or emotionally, however, she was an expert at twisting the teachers to her whims, and not for the first time I wondered why I didn’t just kill them all.

Because I would be the first suspected, came the silent answer. Shaking away my fantasy of revenge I opened the classroom door.

Stepping into Mr Gladly’s Parahumans and World Studies class, I took in the half filled classroom. As my eyes passed Madison and her groupies their soft giggles tapered off.

“…Are you sure?” I managed to catch the small blonde offsider whisper to Madison, her mouth obscured by a strategically placed textbook.

“Gladly won’t do anything,” And he wouldn’t, he was a teacher who wanted to be one of the cool kids. I could imagine the small smirk on her oh so innocent face. Trailing off, the bitch glanced at me, her eyes dancing with a cruel mirth.

Looking at my assigned seat, I released a frustrated sigh. No ‘accidentally’ spilled juice covered my seat today. Without my enhanced hearing, I would have been relieved at been spared the embarrassment of wet pants and been promptly blindsided by whatever their latest plan to cause me grief had been.

Forcibly shoving that unpleasant line of thought to the back of my mind, I pulled my notebook out of my backpack, wincing slightly as the high pitch squeak from dragging my seat on the classroom floor resonated painfully with my heightened hearing.

Listening to Gladly’s droning voice I let my mind run free, if I could still sleep the monotone presentation would have had me tempted to rest my eyes.

‘Badum – Badump – Budamp’

Swallowing, my mouth began to water as my suppression of the weirder aspects of my power wavered; my classmates heart’s soft drumming filled my ears. Dozens of steady beats, merged into a primal song. The hunger to sample, to feed rose as I squashed the memory of the shear ecstasy that even a drop of blood provided. Sucking my finger after I slipped pealing the pota-

“-aylor!” Gladly’s angry voice pulled me from my slightly homicidal musings.

“So you are paying attention now? Good!” My cheeks heated at the reprimand, tuning out the classrooms muted sniggering at my predicament. “Now, What was the effect on the worlds medical technology as a result of Mozambique’s Tinker specialisation?”

Blushing, my mind blanked on the question, I felt my teeth’s ragged points fade away, as I tried to weak my brain for an answer.

--​

“Damn Madison, Damn Gladly,” I cursed under my breath, as I half walked and half ran from the school. They had settled on ruining my project for today’s humiliation. Her bitch of a follower had flashed a smile at my assigned partner and walked off the lessons work. And had the fucking gall to present it first.

I staggered as I felt my foot slide out from underneath me. Windmilling my arms wildly I managed to catch myself against the nearby lamppost. Breathing heavy from the shock I looked around for what had tripped me up.

I started as I took in where my feet had taken me, unconsciously I had walked myself to the Docks, and all round me, dilapidated properties lined the streets, empty shopping trolleys and garbage piled under the streetlights.

This was the bad end of Brockton Bay, Merchant Territory.

Deciding on a direction at random I set off at a fast pace. I barely reached the end of the street before I heard two heartbeats that had decided to follow along behind me.

Frowning at my luck, I headed towards a small alleyway ahead, that I should be able to lose them in.

“Fuck,” I swore as I saw the brickwall dead end.

“Well lookie what we have here Ed” Sneered the beanie wearing man, wiping his nose along his forearm as he walked down the alley towards me.

Ed gave me a feral grin, revealing several missing teeth, “Isn’t much of a looker. Looks like she might be some fun, ‘eh Dom”

Dom let out a high-pitched giggle at a joke only they understood, as I started to back away from them Ed fumbled his other hand free from his hoodie’s hand pouch. Waving his hand, he flicked open his switchblade.

“Nawh, no don’t you be going nowhere,” I eyed the knife as long as my pinkie. I tried to judge my chances against a knife-wielding junky. I was faster than before, stronger too, but not supernaturally so, neither would really be much help against a knife, I had accidentally cut myself a few times in the kitchen, to get a tasty pick me up. I bled as easy as the next person.

“That’s a nice jacket you have, Dom you reckon Angie would like it?”

“Dunno, her tit’s are a fair bit bigger than scrawny here,”

While they were arguing over my less than impressive feminine assets, I scanned the alley for a weapon with some reach. The short block of wood look-

“Oi! Give it here now,” Ed’s nasally voice spoke up disrupting my focus, spittle shot from his mouth, agitated he gave a small wave of his knife, adding almost as if an afterthought, “Your wallet too, school girl!”

A quick glance at the wooden plank must have betrayed the direction of my thoughts. He lunged at me.

Off balanced and surprised, I tried to scramble backwards. He was faster than I thought he would be, dashing into arms range before I could react. Twisting desperately to the side of his lunge, I avoided his grasping hand. Dodging his grimy hand, I felt a flash of agony pierce my stomach. Looking down I saw the bloodied hilt of his switchblade embedded in my stomach.

As Ed ripped the knife from my stomach, I wanted to cry, all the shit piled on in the week after the locker and I get FUCKING stabbed. I couldn’t help but let loose a broken and slightly hysterical laugh.

“ah AHH HA ahhAHAHAH” The louder my hysterical laughter got, the greater the urge for blood, the junkies heart pounded in my head.

“She’s fucking nuts Ed!” Dom hollered over my voice.

“Fuckin’ bug nu-” Fuck it, I lunged.

As I felt my teeth sink into Ed’s throat, I couldn’t help but note the shear bliss I felt as the hot blood poured down into my thirsty mouth, a gurgled scream tore itself from the mangled throat as I inhaled the nectar.

Dimly I felt something poke me in the back, but it wasn’t important. What was important was the fire I felt coursing through my veins, I felt alive, as if I could do anything. A squelch and a faceful of grey goo turned my attention to the remains of a crushed skull between my fingers.

An optic nerve and grey matter clung to my hand. It almost gave me pause in my feeding, how did I do that, I’m positive I couldn’t do that this morning?

Pulling my musing back from my mysterious strength, I noted the lack of blood entering my mouth. Frowning at the dry body. I pushed it away, the body splattered against the opposite alley wall with a wet crunch. Wow, I looked at my hand and back to the remains. “No hugging Dad until this is sorted,”

Again, I felt that poking, wasn’t there two junkies? Glancing around I stared at Dom. Wide eyed he was stabbing me as fast as he could. I couldn’t help but sneer at his horrified face, idly I noted the knife wounds closed as fast as he could stab me.

“Try to mug me?” I wanted him to hurt. Grabbing a hold of his shoulder, I felt it collapse like wet cardboard under my hand. “I needed something to vent at, so Dom thank you so kindly for volunteering.”

His scent of overwhelming fear was delicious, I wonder if I could make him die of fright? Curiously, the buzz I’d had since my first taste of Ed surged as I felt a tingle along my arm not holding Dom, as it exploded into a writhing mass of shadowy tentacles. Transfixed I watched as my arm morphed into something that I could only describe a demon arm.

“No, pleee-ase. Le me go. I’ll be good” The junky Dom cried, as I softly stroked his cheek with my mutated arm.

“Shh shh!” I admonished, grimacing as he decided to evacuate his bowls then. I gave him a small smile, that I’m sure was reassuring.

I’d like to think this time I wasted nowhere near as much blood.

--​

Sprawling on my bed covers, I noted a worrying fact, the lack of concern at killing two men bothered me more than the guilt I should have felt. I didn’t feel any guilt from tearing apart the junkies, instead I found myself relishing in an unbelievable sensation of fullness and contentment. My entire body hummed with energy.

Lifting my shirt I peered at my slight paunche, I had consumed near two human bodies worth of blood, my stomach should have been the size of a beach ball. However, all I felt was a comfortable fullness, consuming those worthless dregs of society had sated a hunger. A hunger I hadn’t known I had been subconsciously holding at bay with my increasingly rare steaks and the occasional sucking on a conveniently nicked finger.

A giggle burst its way out of my throat. Is this what it is like to be high?

I looked at my thin white arm, a contrast to the animalistic arm it had transformed into as I lost myself in the bloodlust. Focusing on what I remembered it looking like, I tried willing my arm to mutate. I felt something in me flexing, bubbling the skin along my arm shifted into a mass of shadow tendrils before reforming into a black and red demonic claw.

Before the biggest change I had been capable of was turning my mouth into a field of white knives. I know I hadn’t been able to shift on this scale before, it had been one of the first things I tried after my teeth had changed.

The blood must be the key, I was stronger, faster and I healed in a blink after drinking the junkies lifeblood.

Dissolving the arm, I glanced at my chest.

Chewing my lip, I thought of the implications if the transformation ability was as I thought it was. A happy thought, I would be able to shed one of the more painful things the trio used against me, my body. I had nothing to lose by trying closing my eyes, I focused my mind on the one attribute I lacked.

It was a disconcerting feeling, my chest reformed with an unexpected weight, as feeling returned I let loose a wheezing laugh as I felt the now too small shirt constricting my chest.

A/N: She has at the moment the lower tier power of Seras. Her power affects her sort of like Burnscar, with the lack of empathy thing going on when she drains the blood.

 

1.2

Walking at a steady pace down the street Aegis’ eyes darted around accessing the dilapidated street. Broken bottles littered the gutters, tag’s from half a dozen minor gangs decorated walls and building facades. As Clockblocker’s and his own boots fell with an echoed thud he snorted softly clearing his nose of the streets odour, Aegis again wished he was rostered with Kid Win or even Sophia as a patrol partner.

Flying high had its own special joy even travelling over rooftops was preferable to dredging through Brockton Bay’s decaying streets, there the smell wasn’t as bad.

Focusing on his partner walking beside him for the next fortnight, Carlos tried for the third time tonight to not tune out the younger boys inane ramblings.

“-’m telling you just ask Shadow Stalker out!” Clockblocker exclaimed, emphasising his point with a wild hand wave.

“What, why!?” Aegis sputtered, turning to face the younger Ward “So-Shadow Stalker? She’s not exactly a people person…”

“Pfft, so what she’s a little ‘abrasive’” Dennis snorted, miming a feminine silhouette he continued adopting a wise tone, “But have you seen that body? Many a sin can be forgiven if they are hot enough and she is at least an 8. Compared to that a little bit of attitude, ha!”

“I’m speechless,” Aegis hissed, resisting the urge to mimic Missy and slap Clockblocker, trying to work out Dennis logic train he asked, “If Stalker is such hot stuff, why are you pushing me to ask her out?”

“Ah ha, that is part of my cunning plan” Gesturing wildly, Dennis began to explain. “You see, I’ve run into her a few times out of costume, around the Boardwalk and that. Now she is a loner, BUT often enough she has company when I see her, a friend! She’s friends with an honest to god model. A. Model. Aegis!”

Dennis paused slightly, lost in a flash back “Tall, long red head, amazing rack and legs that go for ever, at the least a 9 maybe even a 10.” Nudging Aegis’s armoured torso, he whispered “I figure you two get together, Bing bada boom, and you two all love doovey set up your poor single friends to put an end their lonely existence,”

Rubbing his face through his mask Aegis sighed at Dennis’ enthusiasm, he replied sarcastically “I don’t see how that plan could backfire at all…”

Dennis chuckled.

Sniffing the air, Aegis frowned, the stench of decay he had noticed earlier was getting stronger and more pungent the further down the street they travelled.

“Hey, Clockblocker, can you smell that?”

The masked boy nodded, pointing ahead, “Smells like its coming from that way,”

Holding his nose as they approached the alley they suspected was the cause. Turning into the alley Aegis, stumbled at the sight before him.

The alley was eerily reminiscent of imported Earth Aleph horror movies, two bodies strewn throughout the alleys centre, blood, flesh and bones scattered around the shredded bodies. Aegis struggling to hold back his rising bile, braced himself against the alleys brick wall. Clockblocker wasn’t as fortunate, the lack of redundant biology not helping supress instinctive reaction, his full face mask bulged from his stomach’s purge.

Dennis’ fingers fumbled frantically as they scrambled to undo the Velcro latch holding his mask down, ripping off his stained mask, the now unhindered vomit splattered down his front.

Dropping to his knees, he continued to dry heave.

Stepping in between Dennis and the macabre display, Aegis peered down the dark alley past the bodies as the exposed liquids smells assailed his nose.

Tapping his earpiece, a secure line to the PRT monitor room connected, slipping into an emotionless monotone voice he reported the scene. “Aegis to Dispatch, On site two bodies heavily damaged, one body relatively intact missing a head, second has had its arms removed. Very probable parahumans cause, send a clean-up team ASAP as well a replacement mask for Clockblocker. On scene isn’t pleasant.”

Aegis turned slightly as a flicker of movement caught his eye, he frowned as he looked at the armless corpse, before dismissing the movement as a trick of the light.

“Dispatch to Aegis, Acknowledged police and PRT personal notified and en route to your communicators GPS location. ETA 10 minutes,” Came the reply.

Nodding at the information, Carlos gave Dennis a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the younger Ward tried to compose himself.

--​

Emily Piggott, glared at the report sitting opened on her desk. Detailing the information gathered on the still living corpses discovered by Aegis and Clockblocker’s patrol. Not long after the initial discovery and PRT response the body with a remaining head had risen and without warning or provocation attacked the coroner, clean biting through the man’s femur.

Worse still had been the revealed infectious nature, only a stroke of luck had the coroner travel to the PRT infirmary instead of a public hospital for treatment. Barely an hour after the feral parahuman had struck, he had fallen into a manic blood rage killing the three medical staff treating his wound before the automated defences had intervened.

The small plastic speaker on the desk crackled to life, as the mousy blonde secretaries voice came through, “Director, Armsmaster and Miss Militia are here.”

“Send them in” she ordered, releasing the intercom, Director Piggott hoped they had good news.

Entering the spacious office, Emily’s gaze silently assessed the two parahumans in front of her.

“Report.” Tapping a small spherical device pulled out of his utility belt, the Directors holographic projector began streaming a computer interface.

“The subject recovered from the alley temporarily named ‘Ghoul’ has shown low level brute strength in addition to a fast regenerative ability,” On screen several pictures of the restrained Ghoul and the alley opened. As the different pictures showed, the ruin of the body was visibly healing itself.

“At first we assumed that the victim was simply affected by our unknown parahumans power, however, not thirty minutes ago quarantine reported whatever animated the corpse discovered by Aegis and Clockblocker is contagious,” Gesturing at the holoscreen, Armsmaster initiated a security video feed.

Focused in the centre of the white room where three naked bodies, vicious red wounds appeared in stark contrast to their pale skin. As the security tape fast-forwarded through forty minutes of observation, the pronounced dead corpses began to twitch spasmodically. A finger, eyebrow or lips initially, slowly large activity began. Arms and legs braced themselves against restraints as they tried to pull free.

On screen, armed guards entered pointing foam dispensers at the struggling beds as the doctors scurried across the screen.

“Those restraints are classed to hold a straight Brute 4,” Miss Militia commented in slight awe as the corpses managed to visibly stretch the restraints.

Armsmaster nodded, glancing at Director Piggott stony expression, “Tentatively, I recommend a Brute 2 for any infected individual,”

“Are they still there?” Emily waved vaguely towards her own head, “Mentally there I mean?”

Pausing the video of the struggling corpses, Colin shook his head.

“Not as far as we can determine, so far the only consistent response from any of the four is a focused desire for flesh and blood,” Colin activated a new video. Heavily restrained the former doctor pushed against restraints, following both animals and human blood samples unerringly. “Similar results occurred with live tests ma’am. There is a possibility of a Thinker ability to determine nearby sources of ‘food’ or possibly enhanced senses to distinguish between the samples,”

“Do we have any leads on the source?”

Miss Militia grimaced softly, pulling four files from her briefcase to sit on the Directors table.

“According to the analysts, the biological nature and the effectiveness of its transmission we are looking at a bio-tinker or biokinetic.” Sparing a slight frown in Armsmasters direction, Hannah opened the first file, “Proximity wise, Miss Dallon of New Wave is the closest suspect, while theoretically her abilities could accomplish this feat, I strenuously believe to do so goes against the very core of the girl,”

Ignoring Miss Militia’s indignation Director Piggott turned to Armsmaster, “Work to establish a time frame, see if Panacea has had any new associates or unaccountable for large spans of times,”

Colin nodded, ignoring Hannah’s annoyed glare.

Softly grinding her teeth, Hannah moved to the next folder. “Blasto, a plant based biological tinker in Boston. Reports have him as unstable prone to dangerous projects but fully capable of toeing the line,”

Piggott nodded, opened the third folder. Thin lines around her eyes tightened, the only outward sign of her worry, “Bonesaw!?”

Miss Militia nodded moving to speak, Armsmaster interjected, “Yes this is within her known capabilities, previous cases have shown she has the ability to reanimate dead capes,”

“Do we have a confirmation on her latest location?” Piggott wiped her brow, the possibility of the Slaughterhouse Nine within Brockton Bay sitting uncomfortably in her stomach.

Armsmaster shook his head.

“Christ,”

Quickly reading the summarised contents of the fourth and largest folder’s contents, Piggott considered the summary of less obvious sources. A fresh trigger, a Monstrous Cape, or an outside gang or organisation looking to move on the Bay’s various gangs.

Piggott tapped a fat finger on the fourth report, “Do we have a list of criminal organisations, with the oomph to pull of something like this?”

“The Nazi’s?” Colin offered.

Piggott held back a snort of derision. “Don’t be foolish, they wouldn’t risk upsetting the precarious balance the Bay operates under, for something like this”

“We’ve managed to keep this from the media so far, but it’s only so long before the vultures get a hold of this,” Sweaty fingers circling her temple Piggott swore, “The public will eat it up, a Bonesaw-light, building a mindless bloodthirsty army in Brockton Bay,”

“It could be something much more benign ma’am,” Piggott snorted at Hannah’s optimism, in her opinion this was the only warning they would get before the shit hits the fan.

--​

Stepping out of Vicky’s warm hold, Amy resisted the urge to frown as she felt the borrowed warmth and feeling of safety fade. Sighing she watched as Vicky floated over the veranda’s awnings through her window and out of sight.

Pulling the small key from her necklace, she unlocked the front door, walking into the kitchen she glanced at the clock. Carol would be asleep by now.

Filling a glass with water, Amy sprinkled in a pinch of yeast.

Glancing around Amy waited for any witness’ to burst out and catch her in the act. Smiling at the amusing imagery she dipped her finger in the water.

Under her control the yeast, exploded turning the clear water into a brown slush. As the yeast finished converting the water into a syrupy base, she twisted the microbes. The water flashed red before turning neon green.

Smiling softly at her handy work, she quickly drank it down. She couldn’t use her power directly on herself to ensure a good nights sleep, but she could craft a special blend to help as well as guide her dreams to a more desirable direction.

Emptying her pockets as she felt the sleeping drug begin to kick in, she glanced at her phone. An email from the PRT, a small voice in her head said it could be important. A voice she crushed ruthlessly, if it was important they would contact Carol and the whole of New Wave.

Slipping into her bed she let sleep take her, smiling she dreamt of flying, wrapped in safe arms.

 

1.3

Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I let myself drift into a light meditation focusing on my senses, the soft rhythmic thump of dad’s heart echoed through the walls, the wheeze of his lungs and squeak of mattress springs as he tossed and turned, and the mechanical tick of my alarm clock filled my ears. This was was the closest I could come to dreaming anymore.

My mind adrift I thought back to last week.

I couldn’t help but cringe. I might not feel guilt about killing the junkies, but turns out, I can and still do feel other emotions easily enough, fear of discovery and shame at my lack of restraint.

Not long after I had shaken the energetic high I had found myself in afterwards, a high I’m beginning to suspect might have been a result of eating a junkie specifically and not just being high on blood, I had realised how foolish my impulsive actions had been.

Just killing them and leaving their corpses behind was unbelievably stupid, the PRT and the law would come down on me like a tonne of bricks if they could link me to it, and I had left a crime scene for them, bodies and all. Hopefully, the brutality would be blamed on one of the E88 capes getting a little carried away with their border skirmishes against the Merchants.

Too late to realise my error in leaving the bodies in that alley, I had waited with bated breath to hear on the news or newspaper the story of the investigation into the vicious destruction of Dom and Ed, I hadn’t held back much venting the stress of my bad week on Dom. As the days added up with no mention, nor hint of investigation, I hadn’t been able to resist walking past the alley, with a transformed face after school had finished for the day, it was empty.

Someone was covering it up, a worrying prospect. Shivering I pushed that thought and the possibility of a shadowy conspiracy into the back of my mind, there was nothing I could do about it now.

Breathing out I let myself ‘wake’.

Opening my eyes, I felt a twinge of guilt, about not telling dad, crushing the fledgling feeling I looked around my room, it was still dark, streetlights shone through the window lighting my room. A glance at my alarm clock confirmed I had managed to lose myself for nearly three hours.

Still I couldn’t bring myself to regret my actions, without the junkies pushing me to the edge. I would have let the pressure build and build and I would have lashed out at Emma or her groupies in a way I would never be able to conceal, nor would I have had the chance to uncover the hidden facets to my power.

Unfolding my legs, I shifted, hanging my feet over the edge of the bed.

Grabbing a hold of the small ball of play dough from my nightstand. I grimaced slightly as the blue dough deformed around my fingers. I still hadn’t managed to work up the courage to hug Dad, I didn’t want to risk breaking his ribs, not until I had full control of my strength. And so I used the next best thing to flesh I could find to refine my control.

Manipulating the dough between my fingers was slow going, too fast and I would over estimate my strength, more often than not, what I thought would be a soft touch ended with a deeply gouged misshapen ball.

Splitting my attention, I let my free hand slowly dissolve into a writhing cluster of tentacles, stretching the shadowy mass my former hand lengthened reaching level with my eyes, pausing in my strength exercises I focused on the design I had been working on perfecting for the last few day.

Briefly, my vision swam as my world split into two, as a small head began to take shape from the tentacles, bulging and bubbling the shadowed flesh formed into the meaty head of a red eyed Doberman.

It was odd to see the world with a tint of red, directing my dog headed tentacle to turn I looked at my own face. Eye to eye, I forced myself to breathe normally, the red eyes framed in a black dogs head were terrifying.

--​

Mrs Knott’s Computer class was one of the few classes the trio couldn’t sabotage, everything was graded on the computer by the computer. No assignments for them to steal, misplace or destroy.

Slipping into my favourite seat, at the back I could watch the entirety of the class, and with my back to the wall, no one could ambush me. Starting the assignment I had to type slow, working to not push too hard to either crack the keyboard or have the key stroke register as a double strike.

I tuned out the conversations of the other students.

The problem was the teachers didn’t care, even now the only effort Mrs Knott made was to walk around the few teens dressed in red and green or had hair shaven extremely short, making sure not to make eye contact.

The gangs were a festering sore rotting away at Brockton Bay, untouchable the last teacher to try had disappeared, if not for them Emma and her bitches wouldn’t have gotten away with the locker, maybe Dad wouldn’t come home depressed from losing another few men to the gangs, maybe the teachers would fucking care.

‘Crack’

The sound of my mouse starting to come apart under my hand pulled me from my thoughts, grimacing slightly I let go of the mouse. The finger grooves were faint, if anyone notices they would dismiss it as ergonomics.

Was I looking for justification? I think so. I wanted to hit back, I couldn’t hit back during school but I could show the city the gangs were fallible, that it wasn’t so bad.

Maybe the next Taylor wouldn’t be forgotten.

‘Bbbrrrriiiinngg’

Leaving the Mrs Knott’s classroom, I caught sight of Sophia turning into the hallway. It was faint but I could see a small smirk on her face. Pretending to ignore her, I tried to blend into the crowd.

It didn’t work, she made a beeline for me through the moving crowd, I had a good idea of what she had planned. Emma was the one to cut into me with past-shared secrets and well chosen words, but Sophia took pleasure in getting physical, knocking me off balance, tripping me, shouldering me into dropping everything was her M.O.

I could just knock her away now, but as much as it galled me, to do so would just reveal to everyone I had powers. And if anything I had learnt from Gladly’s world history, cape families can and are targeted, not often but like with the death of New Waves Fleur it can happen.

The hit wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, anticipating and faking falling is harder than it looks, as I ‘fall’ from an ‘unfortunate’ shoulder check, I briefly muse over the humorous sight it must make with someone as small as Sophia knocking over someone as tall as me.

“Wow, aren’t you clumsy today Herbert?” She snorted as a few of the crowd titter as I pull myself from the floor, probably pronounced my name wrong on purpose, the bitch.

--​

Standing on the rooftop, Sophia puzzled over her confusion about the behaviour of Taylor. It had looked like the worm had been about to stand up and fight, it had been brief but she had seen it, a flash of fire in her eyes that shouldn’t be there.

Even after the locker Emma’s ex friend had only pulled further into herself, shaking her head, she scoffed the loser was a victim no matter what Emma tried to say.

Ghosting along her solo patrol, she took care to jump over the more out of the ways alleys, looking for the scum she knew was waiting. Landing with a crouch, a groups laughter caught her attention. Peering over the roof she smiled.

Five skin heads decorated with swastika’s tattoo’s were following a black woman, walking behind her they were talking and loudly laughing, from the hunched posture and frantic walking Sophia could tell what was being said was bothering the older woman.

Sophia sneered, the prey would run, just letting the strong walk all over her. Ghosting behind the six Sophia kept a watch on them as they walked away from the more populated area’s, all she spared for the woman decision to walk off the beaten tracks was a muttered ‘idiot’.

Maybe she would fight, maybe not. She just needed to wait for the skinheads push the point where she could use ‘reasonable’ force to subdue them. Checking her ammo belt she smirked she had a dozen tranquiliser bolts ready for use.

As the black woman turned into an alleyway, Sophia couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with the way she was walking, something subtle.

Sophia started, as realisation struck it was a trap.

Clutching her crossbow, she watched in morbid amazement as the black woman straightened, standing taller than the gang members surrounding her, she no longer looked weak or timid. A shiver of excitement shot down her back.

The E88 mooks surrounded the black woman, the lead member, tattooed with a swastika on his cheek, sneered something too quiet for Sophia to catch, but easy to deduce from the crude arm and pelvic thrusts. The black woman just laughed.

Red faced the skinhead stepped closer, his face almost touching the women. Frowning Sophia watched the woman smile, her lips peeling revealing a toothy grin, blinking her teeth seemed wrong, too sharp almost like a sharks. Parahuman?

Too fast for her to see, a slender hand shot forward clutching the closest skinhead’s throat, lifting him casually as if he weighed nothing the man struggled, frantically clawing at the hand crushing his throat. The spluttered plea’s came out as nothing more than a choked gasp.

Turning to the surrounding neo-Nazi’s the shark like grin didn’t diminish, as fast as their leader had been taken they hadn’t had time to react. Now they fumbled to bring their knives to bare, and the one further back pulled a small snub-nosed revolver.

Waving it threateningly, the woman regarded it curiously her posture of superiority unchanged.

Two deafening bangs filled the alleyway Sophia was watching, flinching she watched as the two bullets shot through the woman chest in a bloody explosion. To her shock, the woman looked at the holes with curiosity, her free hand reached up to touch the blood. Licking the bloodied finger she smiled, as her finger left her mouth the blood leaking from the wounds reversed it’s flow, diverting back into the woman’s body leaving not a blemish.

She threw her head back and laughed a full body laugh. Shouted cries of ‘cape’, ‘shit’, ‘run!’ came from the now terrified gang members.

Before the free gang members took a step, five thick black tentacles pushed their way from underneath the back of the green shirt. Bulging the bulbous heads of the black tentacles unravelled into a mass of tiny tentacles before reforming into a large Doberman’s head, the dog’s eyes glowed a vibrant red, slobbering a black icor the dogacles lunged forward each grabbing a fleeing skinhead by the neck.

Purple-faced the neo-Nazi in her hands vice grip began to froth a bloody foam as the screams of his compatriots echoed.

Leaning forward, Sophia watched as the cape ignoring the suspended would be rapists nuzzled the struggling skinhead, before enlarged shark like teeth suck into man’s collarbone. Nauseated Sophia reached for her PRT communicator, distractedly twisting to tap her comm’s her crossbow scrapped against the rooftops. Three monstrous dog heads turned to stare at her hiding place, holding bloodied bodies limp from their jaws they let loose a deep growl.

Meeting the dead red eyes, she silently stared, a battle of wills. Two seconds later her nerve broke, turning she ran for the opposite edge, launching of the edge she shifted, her gaseous form clawing against the air letting her cross the gap.

Landing in a crouch she glanced behind her, “-dow Stalker?”

Jumping at the voice in her ear, she bit back a curse in surprise. Glancing back, she swore she heard the crunch of bones, focusing on the dispatchers repeated query she tried to think up a way to report her encounter without looking like she ran.