Meat Is Murder
Yay Ninja Bob
A/N: Oneshot inspired by the song Meat is Murder by the Smiths. Probably the saddest, most disturbing song I have ever heard. Earlier this year I got to see Morrissey perform this song in concert… and that experience has pretty much scarred me for life. Anywho, gonna use this song's creepiness for my writing warm up this time. Thanks, Morrissey for being so incredibly depressing and passionately weird. Go listen to that song if you like nightmares. D:
"It was murder. I had to do something about it."
"They were just doing their job. How does that translate to murder, Bubbles?"
The Powerpuff sat there silent. She never imagined herself to be caught in a situation like this, but here she was, sitting in the police station. Only instead of being the one escorting the crooks in handcuffs, she was the one in the cuffs for once. Specially made handcuffs, at that. Her super strength was no match for their power—somehow the Professor managed to create them. Her eyes began to water at the thought of him spending time in his laboratory to make these. Just for her. How could he be a part of this, too? She was sure that he would be one of the few to understand where she had been coming from, but no…. He said that she was sick and needed help. How could he say that to his own daughter?
Her blue eyes traveled around the interrogation room in which she sat. It was just her and the detective sitting at the table. The older cop had been the head detective of Townsville PD for as long as Bubbles could remember, which would mean her whole crime-fighting career, at the very least. She was fourteen now, so that meant that he was close to 10 years experienced at getting criminals to crack.
But this man had nothing to crack here. Bubbles wasn't denying a thing. The blonde haired superhero wiped at her eyes with her bound wrist. "How could you say that, Detective?" Bubbles replied softly. Her voice was small, and weak. It cracked as she spoke, like it had been strained from crying for so long. "How could you say it wasn't murder?"
"I don't see how it was, Bubbles."
The young teenager's heart ached, and she could feel a sharp sting in her gut. She was sick and heartbroken all at once. "Why does everyone keep saying that?" she sniffled, lowering her head. Her hair's bangs fell forward, shielding her face from the police officer.
The detective sat there silent for a while, watching the young girl weep. Her hair was still sticky with mud and blood. She was covered in the stuff from head to toe, and had been since her capture earlier that morning. You could only see peaks of the girl's fair colored skin on her face. These streaks under her eyes, ran down along her cheeks and neck, where tears had been falling.
After a full two minutes of not saying anything, the cop cleared his throat and spoke: "They all keep saying that, because it's the truth, Bubbles. It's not murder. Those men were simply doing their job. They have to—"
"It was murder."
The detective stopped, as the Powerpuff interrupted him. He watched her intently. Her head was still lowered in a way that he still could not see her face, but the girl's tone had changed. It no longer shook and squeaked, but was low, steady and clear as day.
"You can't call it murder," he continued again. "They kill those cows humanely, Bubbles—"
"It is still murder," Bubbles said with an almost laugh. She had finally run out of tears. The heartache that previously overwhelmed her was now being drowned out by the boiling blood in her veins, as she began to grow hot with anger. She began to grind her teeth in frustration. How many times would she have to explain this? How many more times did she have to say it?
Bubbles raised her head so that she stared directly at the police officer. Her eyes were narrowed on him, as if he were her next target of revenge. "It's death for no reason, and death for no reason is murder."
The detective held his breath as he watched the superhero sit tall in her chair, as if proud of what she was saying.
"Don't tell me that what they did was humane," Bubbles spat on the word. "If it is so humane, and it so merciful, then what I did was no different. I used what they use, after all."
"You mean this," the cop reached placed the murder weapon on the table in front of him. It was a captive bolt pistol, traditionally used on cattle, though the teenager used it for something else.
Bubbles' eyes fell on the device. "They line them up, and shoot them in the head with that. One by one," she continued. "Imagine being locked in a tight pen, with nowhere to go—completely trapped," Bubbles now looked the detective in the eyes as she spoke. "Your friends and family are lined up, in the pens beside you, also trapped. You can hear the men going down the line of your friends and family, and silencing them all for good… one by one. Everyone is screaming. Everyone is panicked. You don't know what is happening, except that you can't hear the sound of your brothers and sisters' voices any longer. You're crying out for help, but no one answers you. No one cares."
Bubbles eyes fell on the gun again. "Can you really call that humane, Detective? At least what I did was not torture and humility on top of everything else."
"So you admit that you murdered those three men then?"
"No," Bubbles answered. "I saved lives. Just like I'm supposed to. If I had let them go, they were just going to kill again. I had no choice. As a superhero, I'm bound to protect those who cannot protect themselves."
"People, Bubbles. You are supposed to protect people."
Bubbles began to laugh. She could not help it. People could be so ridiculous. "What makes you so special, Detective? Do you really see yourself as superior to every other animal on this Earth? People are animals, and no different. Just because animals speak a different language than you, does not make them inferior."
Bubbles' face grew serious again, as she glared at the detective once more. "I speak their language. I can hear them. I hear the animals cry. I hear the animals die. I could not sit back and do nothing. Not anymore. You're a man of the law who swore to serve and protect as well. If you heard hoards of people crying and dying every day, wouldn't you feel compelled to do something about it?
"For years, I've laid awake in bed at night, hearing their cries in the distance. Hearing them shouting for help, and crying in pain and agony. And everyone kept telling me the same thing: 'They're supposed to die, Bubbles. It's humane, Bubbles. They're just animals, Bubbles. They're not the same, Bubbles. Ignore it, Bubbles. Pretend it's not happing, Bubbles.'"
The young girl shook with anger now. "For years, I managed to do nothing. But I can't anymore. I can't let thousands die every day. I can't let you people convince me that they're somehow less deserving of life than us. I'm a superhero, and I'm supposed to protect, and that's just what I did, and what I plan to do from now on."
The detective raised an eyebrow at the girl. He leaned back in his seat a little bit, and scratched his head. He never imagined a sweet, blue-eyed little girl like Bubbles could turn into such a sociopath. Although now that she explained herself, he could see how hearing animals cry like that every day could drive her to insanity. Especially for someone with a heart as big as Bubbles. Still, what she did was wrong. He had to hold her accountable.
"What do you mean 'what you plan to do from now on'?" the detective questioned.
Bubbles reclined in her seat as well. "Buttercup and Blossom are strong enough to protect the people on their own, but no one is protecting the animals. At least not how they should be protected."
"So that's going to be you now, huh? Protecting the animals?"
Bubbles nodded. "Exactly."
The detective sighed. He thought to himself that this young kid had no idea of the kind of trouble she was in. He gathered his files laid out on the table and placed them in his briefcase, standing to leave the room. He got his confession, and that was all he needed. "Wait here," he instructed Bubbles before leaving the room.
As soon as the detective shut the door behind him, two pairs of eager eyes fell on him—one green and one pink.
"So?" Blossom inquired anxiously. "She didn't do it, right?" The pink Powerpuff Girl held her breath for answer, but the detective did not say anything for a while.
He sighed heavily, as he forced himself to relay the bad news to the family. "She confessed."
Buttercup and Blossom's jaws dropped in pure shock. Before they could think of any type of response, they heard a loud crashing sound coming from inside the interrogation room. Immediately, they and the detective rushed inside to see what had happened.
The room was empty, and the floor had piles of the ceiling bits scattered throughout. There was a giant hole in the ceiling, revealing the evening sky above. Bubbles was gone.
"She's gone!" Buttercup shouted.
"Where would she go?" Blossom stared at the hole in the ceiling in disbelief.
The detective stood there, also gazing up at the ceiling, although not very surprised by this. He replayed her last words in his head.
"So that's going to be you now, huh? Protecting the animals?"
"Exactly."
The end.