Author's Notes: Okay, so this is a special showcase about Eli Jackson/ Hornet (Yellow Jacket, Killer Bee, etc...). It will cover the night of his first murder (see chapter 10 of The Markings of a Hero). The story itself will be seen in the perspectives of one of the kidnapped children as well as someone else written in italics. Enjoy.


AuDC Productions Showcase: Elias Jackson/ Hornet

Evil to Save Us

"I may never get a chance to tell him how proud I am of him, not from my current location, but I am. Maybe I should have told him such when we were together? Left a note? A text maybe? I guess, in the end, none of it really matters. He no longer wanders in my absence, no longer bothered by my past lingering around. He's finally taken shape into his own man and a hero the world can truly celebrate."

The child whimpered as she curled up into a ball, wearing nothing but a dirty shirt that barely covered her frail bruised body. Her eyes gazed at the dirty window with a lifeless stare wishing that her pain would just be over. The old and new bruises that were practically stitched onto her arms and legs stung from her earlier "session" with one of her captors. But as for now, there were no tears left to shed and no voice left to be heard. So she just lied in the dirty bed next to her just as beaten brother.

How many days were like this? Let's see… There were seven days in a week- and how many weeks has it been? She didn't know. She was only seven after all. All she knew is that one day she, her younger brother, and their parents were enjoying the festivities at Drayton Pier and then some nice man gave her and her brother some special ice cream. It made them sleepy and then they woke up and found out that the nice man was not so nice.

Now here they were.

Now they were in this smelly old bedroom with wallpaper dotted with age, dirt, and blood. They were on a bed with stained sheets with the only window being nailed closed. The window itself was dirty enough to provide sufficient tint from direct sun rays, allowing the girl to stare at the sun or moon for minutes at a time without any drawbacks. And the old wooden floor, no matter how hot and stale the room may be, was always cold to their bare feet.

A whimper from behind her had the big sister alerted to her brother's return from sleep. Painfully, she rolled so that her pained blue eyes met matching toned ones.

"Claire," The four year old boy spoke dryly. "I had a bad dream."

Chapped lips thinned as Claire struggled to find something to say. It was hard to look at Dennis. His face was not like hers, they kept her they way she was. But Dennis had makeup that made him look like their missing mom. They wanted Dennis to "look pretty" for them. It only made Claire hate this place more.

Dennis shifted, the loose-fitting shirt on him appearing more like a dress than anything.

"Can we pray again?" asked the boy.

Claire nodded. "Yeah. And maybe God will hear us tonight?"

"There were times when the power of prayer was the only thing that one had. I knew that better than most. Strength, speed, intelligence, endurance, durability, those things were tangible. They could be added to or removed at any point of time. Faith, whether it is in a higher presence or someone, can only be broken by the wielder. And prayer was the only way to summon that ability known as unbreakable faith."

"Are the kids up? I had a rough day at work."

The voice caused Clair and Dennis to release their hands and stare at the closed bedroom door. Their night was not over but did it have to start again now? They haven't had enough sleep and what about lunch? Dinner? There was no way that they could do it again.

"Yeah," a second voice answered. "But wait till Jack gets back. He's getting some lube."

Claire swallowed quietly. Back at home, whenever Dennis was afraid of a spider, she stomped on it so he wouldn't be afraid anymore. These guys were large spiders that Claire could not stomp out and scared her as much as they did Dennis. Maybe even more?

Dennis's body folded into Claire's as she put her arms around him. She was the big sister. She had to protect him from the monsters. But who was going to save her?

"In New Camford, there were no true lines of good and bad. There were those who did good things for bad reasons, those who did bad things for good reasons, and those who did them both. I was someone who thought that all the things I did selflessly were good things. The lives I saved, the people I jailed, all of those were good deeds that I did. And him? He sees it as it should be. He is doing wrong for the betterment of the world. Sure, it's not ideal for a father to watch his son commit the crimes that he has. But I must say, I'm proud of the man he's slowly becoming."

What seemed like an eternity later, the aged brass doorknob turned and the wooden door creaked opened. The stench of their smelly beer rushed up the children's nostril as the three men stood there with lecherous grins on their faces.

Claire felt Dennis trembling at the sight of the men. The fat man that gave them the ice cream. The skinny man that was always there with them. And the short man that kissed them with his tongue out. They were all there and ready for them.

"Now," the fat man said as he led the trio to the bed. "Who wants to give Daddy a welcome home present?"

It was always like this. He would ask, they would remain silent, he would get angry, and then he would tell them to make him feel better. It always hurt and the smell was not any better.

"What's that smell?" the short man questioned, sniffing the air with his face scrunched with disgust.

"The boy pissed the bed earlier." the skinny man said with no care in his voice. "But the girl is nice and clean for you. Probably wet just thinking about you!"

The short man's brows rose. "Is that right? You miss me Bella?"

The nickname caused Claire to clutch Dennis tighter. They would be separated soon and forced to endure whatever came their way. She would be, once again, unable to protect him. And if tonight was like any other night then God would not send them a hero to save them. Then again, they were in the city without heroes. Who would save them?

"I remember Nick once saying, 'Whoever bears the task, should they be brave and worthy, be the hero of the story.' I thought it was pretty stupid at first. Now I fully understand what he meant. Anyone could wear a mask and parade around as a vigilante. Heck, it was a common thing in New Camford. But not many were up to the task at hand and even fewer could complete it. But he was. And I was so proud to say that he was my son."

"Get undress," the fat man ordered with a hint of annoyance on his breath. "Hurry up!"

The two kids did what was demanded with nervous small hands. Claire could hear Dennis mutter the rest of his prayer while thinking the same words. They didn't want to be here. They didn't want to do what they were being forced to do. But if it was going to be stopped, they needed someone to stop it.

"I've seen him as a kid. He was selfish. But to know that in this moment he would put his selfishness aside to do this made me proud. For when you sacrifice everything you are for everyone but yourself, then you bare the markings of a hero."

The glass shattered before anything else could be done with an odd guy diving for the fat man. Claire did not scream. In fact, her eyes widened as she watched the new stranger, cloaked in what she could describe as a yellow jacket and black army pants, rolled off of the fat man and stood quickly. The skinny man was shot first as the short man dove for the masked guy in yellow.

"You dumb bitch! You're dead!" The short man shouted with fury as he attempted to tackle masked savior.

The short man was slapped with a gun before being kicked in his stomach and falling backwards. The gunman wasted no time firing downwards at the short man, killing him instantly.

This just left the fat man who had crawled his way to the shattered window. The guy in yellow turned to stare at the fat man with two guns pointed at him. The fat man put his hands in front of him, attempting to plead just like Claire and Dennis had done since they were taken here.

"Wait! We'll return the kids! You don't-"

The fat man's last lie was never spoken. Claire flinched when the blood splattered from the fat man's head as the masked gunman in yellow shot him with both guns in his hands. In a span of one gruesome minute, if that, Claire's prayers had been answered.

The man in the yellow mask turned his head and looked at the naked bruised children through dark goggles that, to Claire, gave him a bug appearance. He put his guns behind him and then reached out with gloved hands.

"Get dressed. It's time to go home." His voice was scarier than the three dead men but it was different.

"Are…" Dennis began with a shaky voice. "Are y-y-you B-B-Bumblebee?"

"His brother," the masked man stated. "Come on. It's over now."

"We… We don't have any more clothes Mister Bumblebee's brother." Claire said.

"Wait here. I'll be back."

There were three dead guys in the room and their murderer was now rummaging through the two-story apartment unit. Claire knew killing was bad, her parents and her pastor taught her such, but this man killed men who were hurting her. Should she feel bad? Sad? Anything but the happy feeling slowly building up inside of her?

"Here're some clothes." Bumblebee's brother stated as he returned with some of the short man's clothes. "They're clean, I hope. The cops are on the way so stay put until then. They will get you home. I-"

"No!" Claire quickly said, causing the hooded man to stop what he was about to say. "You have to stay! What if…! What if someone else comes? You have to stay with us!"

"…" It was obvious that Bumblebee's brother did not want to stay. His silence was like when Claire asked her dad to stay instead of working. However, unlike her dad's answer, she got, "Fine."

Getting dress seemed like the last thing they would have done on a normal night. But Claire was quick to do what was told of her. Dennis also did not hesitate to do what they were told to do. They were each given a shirt, a pair of shorts, a belt to keep the shorts up (which didn't really work), and socks.

The apartment was not kept in the best shape. There were clothes and empty beer cans scattered amongst the floor. Claire and Dennis were not allowed downstairs unless for the wrong reasons. The lamp seemed too bright for Claire and Dennis and they were forced to shield their eyes as they sat on the smelly black couch.

Claire watched as the guy that saved them stood against the door with his arms crossed. She thought he looked cool and was actually happy to see him. Then again, she was happy to see someone come and save her.

"Are you a superhero?" Dennis quietly asked, his eyes focused on the floor.

"No. Heroes don't last long here."

"But-but, you saved us!" Dennis argued tearfully. "Right?"

The masked hero simply shrugged a shoulder. "That doesn't make me a hero. I… I had to kill them to save you."

"But they were bad, right? They hurt us." Dennis's argument was accompanied with more tears, his eyes closed. "And… And now… Now we can go home, right?"

"Shh," Claire attempted to soothe Dennis but she was now crying herself. "It'll b-be fine D-Dennis."

Bumblebee's brother stood up straight before walking towards the two. This scared Claire more than the three smelly men did. However, the masked guy got onto his knees in front of them and spoke to Dennis.

"I'm not a hero," His voice was still weird. To Claire, it was like when she spoke into the big fan at her aunt's house. But now his voice seemed nicer somehow. "But I stop bad men who hurt people. That's my job."

"D-Do you get paid?" Dennis asked, now looking at the masked Bumblebee's brother.

"I get paid in lives. The more I work, the more I save, the more I'm paid." The answer seemed to make sense to Claire, and even to Dennis who stared at the not-hero with wide eyes.

"Do you have a motorcycle?! Or a plane?! Or cool powers?!"

"Hold out your hand." Dennis held both hands out. Bumblebee's brother looked at Claire. "You too."

The brother and sister duo held their hands out, confused as to what the hero in yellow would do. When he placed his hands onto theirs, they thought nothing of it. Claire felt as if she was once more being tricked like the fat man and the ice cream. However, when he removed his gloved hands, they were each holding a quarter.

"Wow! You can do magic!" Dennis exclaimed as he stared at his quarter.

"That's so cool!" Claire added, looking at hers as well.

"I…" The masked man stopped as sirens approached the apartment. "The cops are here. It's time for you two to go home."

Claire and Dennis both clutched onto the masked hero as cops barged through the door. Claire was brave enough to squash spiders for Dennis but bad men were to be left for Bumblebee's brother. She was certain that he could save them if needed be. However, he did not even put up a fight as four cops entered the apartment.

"Who the hell are you?" the first officer asked, gun pointed towards the guy in the yellow jacket.

"I found them. They're Claire and Dennis Simpson. They've been missing for two months." Bumblebee's brother said. "They've been beaten and raped. Get the kits."

"Where are their so-called captors then?" the same officer questioned, not buying the explanation.

"Upstairs." their hero stated. "They've been killed, by me." The officers each pointed their firearms at the man, frightening the kids more. "The three men kidnapped these two from Drayton Pier before bringing them here. Their parents hired people to find them. I did it for free."

"You…"

"You guys want to have a shootout in front of kids? Or do you want to get them home? Either way, I'm walking out of here alive and these kids will get home safely." Bumblebee's brother voiced in a deeper angrier tone.

A second cop spoke, "How'd you find them?"

"I looked." The hero was obviously annoyed before looking down at the two kids clutching his jacket at his side. "It's fine. They'll get you home."

"But-but-but!" Dennis stuttered.

"Listen to me," Bumblebee's brother said in a softer tone. "It's over. You'll be home with your mom and dad soon. And I have to go make sure other kids aren't missing as well."

"'Cause, 'cause it's your job, right?" Claire said with a snivel.

The masked man nodded. "Yeah, it is. But don't worry. The next time bad men want to hurt you, I'll stop them."

"Promise?" Claire asked.

"Promise." With that, he gently pried their fingers off of his jacket and stepped towards the officers. All but one put their guns down while the last one glared defiantly at the masked hero. "Get them clean and fed. I don't want to think about a cop being a bad man that I have to deal with."

"You got it," the second officer said before his gun-happy partner could say anything. "Say, what do we call you?"

"Bumblebee!" Dennis answered before the guy in the yellow jacket left through the front door.

A third officer, one who had not spoken since arrival, approached the kids gently, putting his large coat around them both.

"Hi. My name is Vance. I'm going to get you guys home." he said nicely with a smile. "Are you two hungry?"

"Yeah!" Dennis said quickly.

"Will… Will Bumblebee come with us?" Claire quickly questioned.

Vance chuckled. "Bumblebee? Like the Transformer? No. Our yellow jacket friend? Maybe."

Claire smiled. "The Yellow Jacket is cool."

"He can do magic!" Dennis adds.

"Yeah, there are a couple of guys and girls like that here in New Camford. You just have to be really special to find them." Vance said. "Come on, let's get you two cleaned and fed. And then home."

"I will never be able to tell him how proud I am of him but I can only hope that he learns that some day. He might never grow as tall as he wants but he will reach heights that I and his mama always knew he could…

Heh, look at our boy now Lee. He's everything you wanted and then some. He might be a little rough around the edges but who are we to judge? We've both had our demons and we both ran from them. Our son… He'll take them on with the same stubbornness that we both possess.

He may become the hero to safely remove most of the evil in the world or become the necessary evil we all need in order to ward off bigger threats. Either way, I'm only sad that I won't be able to tell him how proud I am. My son, the Hornet."