A/N: Okay this fanfic is completely different than the actual movie's storyline and could probably be a standalone story if I changed some concepts/names/locations. Uh. It's weird. "Monster" is a very strange concept that... just sort of showed up in my brain. Yep. Off we go.

Edit: Rearranging and editing chapters as I go. Apparently I can't leave well enough alone. Oh well! 8V

TRIGGER WARNING: Physical and emotional child abuse, both direct and implied. There is also implied animal abuse.

/

The car's wires sparked against her fingers, causing her to jump, but she didn't let go. Battery wire, ignition, and starter—there it was; she used her nails to cut a strip of insulation off and wrap the battery wires together, then did the same to the starter and touched them together. The car roared to life.

Heart pounding, adrenaline running, she fumbled with the steering column. It was locked. Someone's light went on and, panicking, Machiko threw her weight into twisting the steering wheel.

Crack. She twisted it to the other side.

Crack. Yes.

Door slammed shut, car in gear and rev! Someone was shouting now. She didn't care because she was already gone, the car's engine screaming as it powered up the hill and down the other side, utterly oblivious to red lights and any poor souls who might be out—but no one was, because who would be outside at night in this part of town?

Besides, the car she stole was probably stolen already. They weren't going to report it.

Her anger was her fuel, her feet and bruised fingers her wheels, her eyes—only one blackened this time—her headlights. Rage made her yank at the steering wheel, sending it skidding across wet pavement and nearly careening directly into a building.

The near-death experience held no weight with her and didn't stop her from doing the exact same thing, again, across the train tracks, nearly tipping the car over.

Something moved in her rear view mirror. A glance told her what it was, and she returned her attention to driving. The mass of shifting flesh and legs, understandably dubbed "Monster", raced along behind her.

She wasn't worried that it wouldn't keep up. It had always been able to in the past, why not now?

It suddenly peeled off to the left, now something like a huge centipede, to skitter up the side of a building and run alongside the car. Its presence made things better. Its anger echoed hers. She gunned it over the next hill, sending the car flying and her head spinning. Yes, yes, yes!

"Yes!" burst out of her mouth, a cry of pure joy so intense she felt lightheaded. This was what it was like to fly!

It crashed back into the road, sending a shock of pain through her already-throbbing head. And then Machiko had to throw on the emergency brake and twist the car around to a screeching halt before it hit the shipping containers stacked at the pier.

The stench of burning rubber filled the air. The fifteen-year-old leaned back in her seat, panting heavily and staring at the ceiling of the car for some time until Monster extended a feeler through the broken window to touch her face.

She rolled her head to the side to look at it. Pincers grew, twisted, and melted back into its body. A line formed horizontally and split open, revealing rows of sharp teeth. A series of eyes popped wide to stare at her. The creature was a monstrosity in ever sense of the word and a completely unnatural freak of nature. It was also Machiko's best friend for as long as her memory stretched.

"Someday," she told it, "we'll learn how to fly."

It hissed and its mouth melted closed again, its head rolling down and disappearing. Machiko kicked the door open and stumbled out of the seat, panting. The adrenaline was slowly dissipating, leaving her trembling and angry all over again.

"God damn it," she choked. "It's not fair." She punctuated the last word with a punch to the metal container, sending more pain through her already bruised fingers. No, she needed to do something. She needed to go riding again, or get in a fight. Man it'd be nice to get in a good fight; one where she'd get nice and bloodied and bruised but do the same back. One where she could say Yeah but you should see the other guy.

She could always start one at a bot fight, but people went to those in gangs and she had no backup (unless you counted Monster, but it needed to stay hidden to the general public). She could go to a bar, but even the seedy ones wouldn't let fifteen-year-olds in unless she provided them favors she wasn't willing to provide, up to and including sexual ones.

But she needed to get the fire out of her veins, the rage out of her heart, though she knew that was impossible. The anger would always be there. The hatred would never go away. She just needed to get it down to a simmer for tomorrow, when her class toured the San Fransokyo Institute of Technology—something she was actually looking forward to, or at least would be if she could stop to think about it.

Machiko moved and Monster followed, hoisting her up to the top of the storage container and following underneath as she leaped from metal box to metal box, running across them and feeling the frustration burn in her veins. She couldn't go back home. Not now, not after what had gone down there.

Maybe she should just… calm down. Or try. There wasn't anything around here to take her anger. She couldn't yell at Monster, she couldn't break anything, she already went joyriding…

Movement caught her eye and she skidded to a halt. There was a dark figure near the pier and she moved closer to get a better look. There was some sort of black mass writhing around in the water. He—she thought it was a he—was moving his arms like a conductor, the mass sliding around obediently like some sort of liquid dog.

She should have realized who it was right off the bat, but her adrenaline was still pumping and she was in a lot of discomfort and so got closer, and closer, Monster hissing quietly below her in concern.

He must have heard something, because he turned around and scanned the docks before looking up—right at her.

Oh SHIT.

She'd seen that face—that mask on TV plenty of times. The bone-white with red streaks; the yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. The mass roiled and launched the figure up, keeping him hovering at eye level with her as she stumbled back. And then the mass, the microbots, she remembered their name now; crept up the shipping container she was standing on with alarming speed and grabbed her legs.

"Whoa hey!" They yanked, sending her tumbling onto her back. The back of her head hit the metal with a solid thud. Yokai, the dreaded criminal mastermind and murderer landed just a few feet from her. She tried to scramble back, but the solid black mass held her there and her head spun from the hard contact with the container. Yokai was slinking towards her and flicked a hand to send the tiny robots up her torso towards her face. Machiko's eyes widened. This wasn't something she could actually fight against. It wasn't something she could break and oh god she was gonna die!

Oh no I'm not.

Panic became rage again. Oh, she wasn't some helpless teen to be caught unawares by the supervillan and vanish without a trace, no; she did have backup this time!

Monster all but ignited off her fury. With a hissing scream, it rose from where it had huddled at the base of the container out of sight like it was supposed to and coiled into the air, sprouting long spidery legs and spines off its back, chatting pincers and gleaming furious eyes. Yokai stopped dead and stared up at it, and though his mask was expressionless his body language communicated complete shock. Which was the appropriate response to seeing Monster for the first time.

With one swipe of a leg the majority of the microbots were knocked off her body and she scrambled to her feet. Yokai had leaped backwards onto the black platform that whisked him back away from them both.

"Y'wanna go?" she screamed at him, her lips pulled back in a wild grin. Monster roared again and flowed around her. Alarm bells were going off in the back of her mind—what was she doing, going against Yokai? But all thoughts of danger had been pushed aside, so she leaped on Monsters back and clung to the feelers that sprouted there as it lunged for the white-masked villain.

They were immediately slammed by a solid wall of bots. Monster howled and twisted, protecting her from the force of the blast while legs whipped out of its body and cushioned the blow and landed it on the side of a container, leaping off without missing a beat straight at Yokai once again.

Machiko leaped off at the last moment, tackling him full-force—a stupid move on her part. He was a supervillain, and a good one at that; completely used to this tactic, he backhanded her across the chest a split second before she got to him. The microbots helped the action by becoming an extension of his arm to cause even more of a blow. But he had other things to contend with and the creature's many jaws snapped at him, forcing him away.

There was a moment of silence. Monster landed heavily between him and her as she struggled to her feet and limped over to stand next to it.

"Little girl," Yokai's voice was harsh and distorted by the mask, "you do not know what you are doing."

"You fucking started it," she spat at him, still wheezing. "This is all self-defense. C'mon, you have yours and I have mine. Let's do this."

He reared up on his microbots. Monster grabbed Machiko in its many legs and mirrored the villain's stance, and they met in a giant clash. Microbot fists met flesh that gave and reformed; teeth clamped on millions of little bots that did the same. Machiko swung at the masked man at every chance she had.

Later she would wish she had kept her cool better. Her rage kept her from remembering most of the fight in a haze of red; all she knew is she came to scraped, bruised, bloody and bleeding; Monster was exhausted and somewhere far in the distance a bell was tolling 2 AM.

They separated again. Yokai looked no worse than before, but again he had the benefit of black clothing to mask any injuries and experience on his side. She squinted through her swollen eyes. Was he even breathing hard? He'd been able to divert any attack she'd directed at him and had done a number on her. And Monster, but Monster was able to heal almost instantly while she decidedly could not.

Still, he hadn't managed to kill them yet.

As soon as it had come upon her Machiko felt her fury subside. She took a deep breath. Reacting to her sudden calmer state, Monster's spines melted into its sides and it shrunk away from the supervillain, who watched silently, ready for another attack.

"Interesting specimen you have." His voice wasn't even ragged, or maybe that was just the mask hiding any evidence of exhaustion. That wasn't even fair.

Machiko grunted. Unlike her attacker, she was feeling the effects of the fight. But she felt much better.

"Care to share?"

"To a guy who just tried to kill me?" She laughed wearily. Monster continued to back up, its head becoming its tail and vice versa. "Go to hell."

He was advancing again. Machiko was forced to think about their situation. They were both tired and in pain and the realization that she had just clashed with a major deadly supervillain was coming back. Damn it, she had really gotten herself into it this time—

A sound caught her attention and her head whipped around, just in time to see the black mass heave a shipping container into the air.

An obscenity ripped through her throat. Monster screamed at the same time and lunged to escape it and in its haste she was thrown clear, or maybe it threw her to get her away. She flew through the air, mercifully not very far, and slammed into a wall.

The last thing she heard before she lost consciousness was Monster howling in distress.

That fucker, she thought, and everything went black.

/

She missed the entire next day of school and the subsequent tour of the college. Monster took care of her, bringing her food (where it got it she didn't know, but she never heard any sirens so she assumed it got it quietly) and keeping her warm where it had brought her, an abandoned warehouse across town. How it had managed to get away from Yokai while lugging her unconscious ass was beyond her, and she wished she had been awake just to see it. She spent the day vomiting and crying into its thick, shifting hide in a belated reaction to the events of last night and the original reason she had gone joyriding in the first place.

She remembered how her dog had looked crumpled near the wall in the corner of their old kitchen, cracked tile and the stale smell of old booze on the air. Rowdy's body looked like a pile of sticks covered in an old cloth bag, eyes wide open and staring. The violent death of the ancient black-and-white terrier, a companion she'd had since she was little, set her on a vicious angry cycle of destruction. First her dad, then her body, and finally the car she'd stolen and Yokai had born the brunt of her rage.

Sure, Rowdy was seventeen. Sure, she'd had to carry him up and down stairs and made sure he ate all his food and done all the research she could to make sure he got everything he needed. But he hadn't been in any pain. People said he was a miserable little dog but they hadn't known him when he was away from prying eyes. When they were alone together he blossomed into a happy creature and it just wasn't fair that he'd gone the way he had.

In the end she relented, accepted that she was in shock, and limped alone to the hospital. It was a long and painful journey and she brushed off several concerned queries about her wellbeing before finally accepting a ride from a stranger to get there. It was a dumb decision; she didn't know the guy, but hell. She was full of dumb decisions, why not another one?

The guy was, fortunately, friendly, and even walked her into the hospital. She was treated for a broken rib (just one? she asked), a concussion, scanned for hemorrhaging, and given enough pain meds for several days. She was honestly surprised she didn't have any more broken bones.

And then it was time to face the music.

"What am I going to do with you," her principal sighed, considering the sullen teen on the other side of his desk. Machiko snorted. If she had a dime for every time he alone said that to her or her father she'd be filthy rich. "Why don't you apply yourself a little more—just a little more! And you'd be on the fast track to success."

She stared at the little "Just be yourself!" sign carved into a wooden block on his desk. What she really wanted to do was take it and throw the damn thing through the window…

Principal Harkin sighed again and folded his arms, leaning back in his chair. He considered himself a good principal. He'd gotten several recommendations and awards for being just that. Every so often he'd get a child who just seemed to always slip through the cracks, but he was always able to get them back on track. Machiko was the one exception to this rule and she'd become a bit of a project.

"You're a puzzle," he said finally.

"Heard that before," the girl muttered, playing with a strand of long bleach-blonde hair. It looked off against her dark eyebrows and even darker eyes.

"Well, then help me understand it. You fail every class but anything to do with the biological sciences. And with those, we've run out of things to teach you. Did you know," he said finally in frustration, "that we're trying to get you to attend college classes early?"

She blinked and looked up. No, she hadn't known that.

"I, and the rest of the faculty, have been trying to negotiate just that with San Fransokyo Institute of Technology. We can't get you to graduate early, because your grades in everything else are so bad." He watched her reaction carefully. Her eyes had brightened, but she still looked wary. "But we can have you take special time off school to attend classes there."

She finally looked up entirely. There was a light in her eyes he'd never seen before. "I need you," he punctuated his words firmly and carefully, "to work with me on this. And not run out and get into fights."

A very, very slight nod. Her eyes were fixed on him with an intensity he only wished she'd show her other school subjects. He decided to push it just a little more. Maybe the girl would open up a little.

"What were you doing out there anyway? It's dangerous. Did you not tell your father where you were going?"

The light shut down and she lowered her face, the anger returning. Principal Harkin despaired. Something he'd said had set her off. "No," she replied tightly. "My dog died last night. I was upset and went for a… run."

"And a fight, I'm assuming."

"Yeah. But he started it."

"And you finished it?"

"No." A cold laugh. "I got my ass kicked."

He took a breath, held it for a moment, and expelled it. "Machiko," he said as gently as possible, "I'm sorry your dog died."

"Killed," she snapped viciously, and he blinked, startled. "He was killed."

"That's terrible. I'm sorry to hear that. Did you file a report with the police?"

"No," she replied, the bitterness in her voice somehow worse than the anger. "They wouldn't've been able to do anything."

"He was run over?"

"…Yeah." Her lips were thin again. The hesitation made him pause, but he brushed it aside as always.

"He was very old, wasn't he?"

"Seventeen."

"That's incredible. He was close to death, Machiko. You did a wonderful job raising him and taking care of him… but he was going to die."

"He didn't have to die then!" The hurt was painful to bear.

"I understand that, but you need to not get into fights and land yourself with a concussion in the hospital!"

Machiko grit her teeth. He didn't understand. He said he did, just like everyone else, but he didn't understand anything.

"Now." Harkin pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He only got them when he had to deal with this juvenile delinquent. The things he did to keep her in school... she'd never appreciate them. "There is another tour of the college going out tomorrow. The bus leaves at eight o'clock sharp, and I want you to be on it. Can you manage that?"

She took a deep breath and tried to focus. Her voice was very quiet. "Yeah."

"I'll phone your father—"

"No need," she interrupted quickly. "I don't have to go home. I can stay in school."

He gave her an incredulous look. "You're still on pain meds."

"If that stopped me, you'd keep me from the field trip tomorrow." Her gaze was challenging. Principal Harkin considered, then gave in. He'd learned long ago that to rise to the challenge would only bring an escalated argument followed by whatever she wanted to do anyway, heedless of consequences. Why she skipped school and got in fights because her dog died then stayed in school high on pain medication was beyond him, but there was no point fighting it.

"All right. But report to the nurse if you start having any side effects. Understand?"

"Whatever."

"Compromise, Machiko."

She grunted and heaved herself out of the chair. "What period is it?"

He sent her off to her math class, fully knowing she may or may not actually go, and if she did she would likely not listen to the subject in the slightest. The chair creaked as he took a well-deserved break and tossed back a couple of aspirin. He hoped to god she was worth the trouble. The girl had serious anger management issues, no friends, refused to work hard on any subject except biology, and missed so much school he was being pressed to expel her. Fortunately routine drug tests revealed she was clean. Her father tried his best to keep her in line, but Harkin thought he'd probably gave up by now. Poor guy had his hands full…

Machiko probably should have taken his advice and gone home. Dad should have still been at work. But she couldn't go back to the place her dog had died. Her dad had put his body in a garbage bag and out with the trash and it had triggered another argument, one that would have landed her in tears if she wasn't dead set against crying.

As it was, the rest of the day was a blur. She remained on her medication. It made things fuzzy. She'd missed her biology class, but she'd take the test over later. Not that was she was at all nervous that she'd flunk.

If she didn't throw herself into biology she'd never find out what Monster was. Not that it would change anything, but it was something she could work for. Something that kept her going. Yeah, she'd find out what it was; the meager research she'd been able to do told her there was nothing like Monster in the world. When she was younger she'd try to tell people about it but, like everything else, no one believed her. That was why she had to do all she could to get into this college. She couldn't pass this opportunity up. If she was lucky, there would be so much work she'd have to claim she couldn't go home every night, and Dad would be forced to deal with it.

A sudden thought occurred to her—poor Monster, how were the pills she was on affecting it? She already knew it fed off her emotions. She didn't know what it did while she was asleep, though last night was proof it could behave independently to bring her to safety when she was incapacitated (thank god). What happened when she drank? Was its brain chemistry interrupted? What about now? Could it run away or fight while she couldn't stand without the room spinning?

She resolved to test this at some point and in the meantime wean off the pills. The possibility that it couldn't defend itself if found or attacked was too much of a risk. Now that Rowdy was gone... it was the only thing that mattered.

Night was quiet. Her dad was exhausted from work and fortunately didn't have the energy to even talk to her. Machiko kept herself barricaded quietly in her room just in case.

She was on the bus, as promised, at 8 AM sharp.