A Clear and Present Danger
Heroes is not mine - no suprises there... So Tim Kring can stay well away thank you very much.
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The music was far too loud really, but Molly didn't care. The louder the music, the easier to lose herself in it, to banish the cares of the real world for another night. Staying ahead of the government was a constant effort, and the fact that she'd stayed ahead this long was almost entirely due to the help of Micah and her two fathers. Almost immediately after her adoption, Matt and Mohinder - with some help from Peter- had squirreled away a trust fund for Molly under her mother's maiden name. So that, should anything ever 'happen' to either or both of them, then Molly would have a certain amount of independence. More importantly though, as soon as Homeland Security started cracking down on 'specials', Micah had purged as many records as he could. Although he couldn't remove either Matt's or Mohinder's – both being too well known – Micah did manage to eliminate every trace of Molly, himself and various other low profile specials from the records entirely. Matt's last act for Molly before his capture by Homeland Security had been to enroll Molly in a Canadian boarding school (again, under her mother's name - Stone).
So here she was, six years later, in a dark techno club in Northern Illinois with her boyfriend, Alex. She spotted him wending his way across from the bar, two brightly coloured cocktails clutched in his hands. She was too young to drink, hell, she was too young to be in that club at all, but the ID Alex had provided for her showed her to be Elizabeth Adams, 18 years old, from Maine - ready and willing to party.
"Shall we dance?" Alex bellowed in her ear, as she reached for the nearest cocktail, draining half of it to loosen her nerves.
Molly flashed him a grin, "Hell, yes!" and, dragged him onto the dance floor, instantly fell into the rhythm of the music. Twenty minutes and five songs later, Molly collapsed back into the booth, swallowing both cocktails in three draughts. She felt instantly relaxed, and melted back into the seats as Alex danced with a tall leggy brunette who was showing considerable chest and long inviting legs.
"Hey, beautiful," A voice from the next booth floated over to her, "You wanna dance?"
Feeling a little light headed, Molly giggled, and permitted herself to be tugged onto the dance floor. Doubly intoxicated by the music and the alcohol, it was only when the cold air hit her face as she was bundled out the club that she realised what was happening. She sobered even faster as the man before her pushed her hard up against the wall, bruising her back, and thrust his hand up between her legs. She'd dressed to impress that night, high heeled boots; short, red, mini-skirt and a matching red top which accented her slender figure and brown eyes. Molly wanted to scream, bat his hand away, anything; but her body was unresponsive, heavy and uncoordinated – the drink... it tasted strange the second time around... oh shit... she'd been drugged. Where was Matt when she needed him? Mohinder? Peter? Sylar, even! Screaming inside her head, Molly slumped against the wall, unable to physically resist any longer.
"I suggest you don't do that." The voice was calm, casual almost, but with an edge of menace underneath that had Molly's assailant spinning round - although he kept her forced back against the wall.
"Look, mate, I don't know you. So, just go on your way and leave me and my girlfriend alone."
"You're lying" the menacing tone was noticeable now, as well as an air of sinister pleasure. "You get one more chance – tell me the truth." He sounded like a cat, letting the mouse wriggle before the final pounce. Molly's would-be assailant was fuming now.
"If you know what's good for you, mate, you'll fuck off right now, or else I'm going to hurt you!"
"That's a lie too." stated the man, whose outline Molly could just decipher, tall and dark - only distinguishable by the silhouette he formed in the dim light of the alley. "You couldn't hurt me if you tried." The assailant swore, dropping Molly, and racing towards the man, drawing a knife as he did so. He was obviously well practiced with the knife, but the dark figure slid around his blows with an impossible ease. However fast the strikes came, the dark man always avoided them; leaning back, or shifting his weight at the last moment.
Suddenly, with a scream, Molly's attacker dropped the knife, his wrist pinned in his opponents vice-like grip. Molly gasped as the wrist of her attacker slowly changed colour, turning from flesh to a dull metallic grey – almost as pale as the attackers face.
"You... you bastard freak!" he screamed, lashing out with a punch that rocked the dark man's head back for a moment, splitting his lip. A feral grin lit up the dark man's face, as, very deliberately, he placed his hands on either side of the knifeman's head. Light spilled from between his fingers, growing brighter and brighter, throwing a harsh glare upon the now unblemished features of Molly's saviour.
She dragged herself up against the wall, needing the support, as the feeling slowly returned to her legs while her protector strode away.
"Goodbye, Miss Adams. Find your boyfriend, and go home."
"You're not going to kill me? Then why the hell are you here?"
"You called for me, Miss Adams. You needed a hero – what a shame you didn't get one."
"But you... you saved me?"
The Dark Man turned slowly, as malicious smile spread across his face. "That's because you belong to me, Miss Adams; remember that." He glanced back once more, "Goodbye... Molly".
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As with many of my stories I have a vague idea for continuing this, but as it is at the moment this will remain a one-shot. At least until after the A-levels.
Reviews make me feel like I have friends ;)
Regards
AandF