Lexa sighed through her nose as she stared from inside the open doorway at the wall of rain illuminated with the night lights of the city. Cracking her neck, she retrieved her wireless headphones and placed them over her ears. Pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her music until she came to her song specifically made for these specialized jobs. Hit play and set it on repeat.
A surprisingly satisfying blend of classical and techno music began.
Her eyes closed as the sounds of the world drowned out, and she could only hear the piece she created. She knew every note, every chord, every beat. She knew how to time her walks. How to time her thoughts to the personalized music, so that nothing else in her mind mattered. It was glorious.
She tilted at the waist to pick up her black guitar case. It didn't carry a musical instrument, exactly, but it was less conspicuous to haul through occupied places than her other options.
One foot after another, she strode into the rain in time with her song, bobbing her head along the way.
A normal person would scream at her for taking such expensive headphones into the downpour. But she wasn't exactly a normal person. Nor were these traditional headphones. She had modified them to withstand any type of weather condition.
Her specialized jobs didn't stop because of rain, snow, heat, or any other weather phenomenon.
She came to her predetermined vantage point and set the case down on the slippery rooftop of the twenty two story building. Rested a hand right above her eyes. Squinting through the sheets of rain.
The target's bedroom window stood forty seven yards away. The target himself was another four feet inside the room.
Here went to another night of work.
Lexa's brown eyes found the case, and she snapped it open. Nodding her head in time as she seamlessly assembled her sniper rifle. If she needed to, she could have her gun ready in under a minute, but there was no rush tonight. Even Dad told her to take her time.
So she did.
She kept her movements in time with her designed song. Enjoying the cool rain on her skin, which was her only exposed flesh. The rest of her body glistened with a black suit. Not that she needed to blend into the night. No one would know her identity if she was seen. She was simply another face in the crowd.
Closing her eyes to further enjoy her music, she constructed the rest of the weapon from memory. Before she could even speak, she learned how to become comfortable around firearms of all kinds. She began designing her own by the time she was five. Four years later, she created plans for her first robot. The preteen years rolled around, and she already had an internship with the leading robotics experts.
Like father, like daughter is what she had heard her entire life.
But she couldn't help wondering if it was a blessing or a curse. She loved Dad, but she knew her life with him was different compared to other children. She had known that since she was young. Her childhood was nonexistent. The other children were playing with toys, and she was taking exams.
How old was she now? Sixteen? That sounded about right. She didn't know. Honestly, she didn't care anymore. Age was but a number, and she felt more like an adult than a child. Was that a bad thing? She had no idea if it was a healthy mentality or not.
The only thing that mattered in her life was how well she performed. How well Dad liked her productivity numbers. What her success rate filed as.
Dad was a business man, after all, so it was expected. If her productivity declined, she would become a redundancy. And redundancies were immediately eliminated in the business world. If someone or something cost the company money because of performance decline, they were cut out.
Just as the man in the penthouse forty seven yards away had become.
These jobs were a constant reminder of how not to act around Dad.
However, these jobs allowed her to act any way she wanted. She could be free to be herself. Even if she couldn't remember who she was half the time. Conditioning wasn't exactly the right word, but she had definitely been groomed for a certain way of life. A reason why her powers were so important. If Dad changed his mind about a subject he wanted her to excel in, all she had to do was rearrange part of her brain to become overly intelligent on said subject.
There was another thing she liked about these hits. All her targeted people were so arrogant and flowing with money, they picked housings far off the ground. Well above the other buildings in Metropolis. It made sniping rather easy.
Lexa blew rain droplets off her face and placed the rifle on the building's ledge, the song rising into its crescendo. Her head moved back and forth, side to side with each swell. Of all the music she had composed, she didn't know why she picked this song to be the one she played during her assassinations.
It comforted her in an odd way. The techno music offered momentum, encouragement. The classical aspects gave steadiness, peace. Not that she needed to feel peace about the people she killed. She couldn't afford to have feelings for people who were nothing but tally marks on her production worksheet.
No, she couldn't have a soul for those kinds of things.
That sounded like a phrase filled with teenage angst.
She chuckled to herself and braced the sniper rifle against her right shoulder. It wasn't like she couldn't feel angst every once in a while. Her job was to use her powers to disguise herself as she killed off Dad's hit list. The pay was being able to live another day. And she was only sixteen.
The hit list was practice, he claimed. Practice for when it was time to take down the real, yet undisclosed, target. Because she would only get one chance. If she failed, he said she better pray her target killed her first. He would make sure she suffered until she craved death.
Good thing she made a habit of never failing.
"There is no room for error. Not with me," Dad always said. "Otherwise, the consequences will be so severe, not even your precious gifts can save you."
She believed him. Never once doubted him. Dad was a multi-talented man with nearly unlimited resources and money. He was quick to anger and slow to forgiveness. He could forever hold a grudge. Not to mention, he wasn't the biggest fan of her gifts. Even if he liked using them for his gain.
Now, that was something ironic about Dad. He was one of the biggest advocates for humans, but he had a severe case of the God complex. There is nothing more important than the survival of the human race, he said. He made it his slogan after the aliens made themselves known.
Never trust the aliens.
That was another one of the things he drilled into her mind. One of the many, many things. She had a whole list of rules to follow, and she better not think of breaking any one of those. Because, well, the consequences and all that.
So she stayed inside unless otherwise directed. Built her robots, designed her guns, and made her music. As much as she enjoyed her other…hobbies, the music was her favorite escape. Dad preferred classical music, so she became adept at every form of it for him. Techno and dub step were her favorite.
This song somehow combined the genres perfectly. It encapsulated her and Dad's relationship perfectly. And it allowed her to forget her grievances. Allowed her to focus on her tasks at hand. There were too many times she felt lost, felt like she was at the end of her road, and the music provided guidance.
The soul thing bothered her on occasion. She wondered if she even had a soul. She felt soulless. Yes, she had a purpose to her life. Many purposes, actually, but there was no spirit behind her actions. It was like she was just another one of her machines.
Lexa turned her face up toward the rain. She did honestly feel as inhuman as her robots. Her emotions had been stripped to their bare bones long ago. Not that she really needed them to get stuff done. Many told her it was a simply a byproduct of her "juvenile genius."
Right.
They didn't know how she had been raised.
Inhaling a deep breath of wet earth and rain, she squared up to the scope. The gun feeling good in her hands. She lined up her aim with the holographic crosshairs. Exhaling, she wrapped her hands around the rifle, index finger finding the trigger. The trigger was an old friend.
She had a completely straight shot to the man in the penthouse. It was the easiest assassination she could ask for. And there was nothing she could complain about. Not even the rain.
Her muscles relaxed, and she took in another breath. However, before she could fire her weapon, a sudden mass of blue filled her scope. She snarled. Backed away from her setup to see what was wrong with it. Froze. Her sharp exhale leaving a puff of smoke in the lowering temperatures.
A well-built man floated in front of her, dressed in blue and sporting a red cape. His arms crossed in front of the symbol on his chest, and his expression reflected his displeased disposition.
Lexa's instinct was to grab the pistol on her thigh and empty the magazine. Yet she knew it wouldn't do any good against this opponent. While she hadn't met him in person, she knew who hovered in front of her.
The alien who decided to make Metropolis his home. Dad made sure to engrain the alien into her brain. However, he had yet to equip her with the proper defensive tools. Did Dad think she would never run into the alien or what?
Superman broke the sound of the pattering rain first. "I regret that it's taken me this long, but I've finally learned to recognize the song you're playing with someone being murdered. You've gotten away with five so far. I won't tolerate any more."
She slid her headphones down around her neck. Tightened her dark brown ponytail. Dad was not going to be happy about this. But what was she to do? Other than talk her way out of it? Good thing she had years of pent up sarcasm at her disposal. "You really must be as stupid as I've heard if you've left five people die."
"I still don't know how you've managed to escape as soon as the gun fires. There's a reason my speed is called super."
"Believe me, I know. But magicians never reveal their secrets, do they?" She put a finger to her cheek. "So, let me get something straight. Are you inferring that as soon as you hear the gun fire, you go after the shooter, not the victim? No wonder so many people die under your watch. What kind of hero does that make you?"
He landed on the rooftop. "Is this a joke to you?"
"Do you see me laughing?"
"Killing men and women is a serious offense—"
"You don't have to tell me."
His head shook. "Very well. Why are you going after people who are in the upper class? Important members of companies and manufacturers?"
Her weight shifted to the other foot. "Wow. I guess you're not as dumb as you look. You figured out an M-O."
Superman's gaze hardened. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
"If I told you, that would reveal my secret, and we already had the magician discussion, so I really don't know what to tell you."
"I'm taking you in. We'll see how talkative you are when faced with a judge and a life sentence."
Lexa hesitated. If she allowed herself to be taken to jail, that would be a massive failure. "What proof do you have I committed the other five murders?"
"That song. I've heard it all five time, as well as tonight. I know it's connected to you because I've never heard it before this began happening. And I can hear everything."
She stared him down. "And you think the judge will go for that? A song as proof?"
"I think a judge will believe my word over yours. Besides, I've caught you in the middle of this assassination attempt. That alone will convict you. You need to face justice."
Stepping back, she raised a fist equipped with a M48 Cyclone knife pulled from a holster on her lower back. Blew more rain out of her face. "The justice system is rather hypocritical, don't you think?"
"There's no need for more nonsense."
"The only nonsense here is the justice you'll never face for the lives you've taken."
This was enough to make Superman pause. "What do you mean?"
One of her eyebrows rose, and she rattled off lines she heard Dad scream many times. "Do you really not think? I'm talking about all the collateral damage you cause. The innocents caught in the middle of your fights."
His nostrils flared with a hard sigh.
She continued. "What about the slaughtered victims who will never be remembered except by their grieving families. The nameless who've been buried under buildings or disintegrated in explosions. Where is the justice for them? Are you going to go to court and serve time for all your involuntary manslaughter?"
Superman shook his head and closed his eyes, turning away.
In that moment of his self-reflection, she seized her opportunity. She didn't think she would be able to pull at his heartstrings so quickly. But she wasn't going to question it. Even abandoned her sniper gear on the rooftop.
Lexa dove off the edge of the building. She heard him rush to ledge. Heard him shout "wait." But she was already long gone. To him, anyway.
Part of her was afraid of this moment. When she would have to use her powers in his presence. She didn't know the full extensions of his abilities, so she feared he would be able to detect her. Apparently not.
She had taken the form of an army of ants and crawled down the side of building. Thankful the rain fell straight down. Also thankful ants possessed a hive mind, so she could control all the aspects of her body. One of the bad things about her powers? All of her mass had to go somewhere. And if she wanted the form of something small, it better be some kind of swarm with unified brain waves.
When she reached the ground, she followed real ants into a dumpster, un-phased by the sight or smell of all the garbage. Her sense of smell had almost become desensitized to most smells, so she wouldn't be terrified of decaying bodies.
After her cells multiplied to a certain extent, she emerged from dumpster as a small, mixed dog. Padded down the busy street complete with a flopped out tongue. Everybody liked dogs, right?
"Hey, get outta here, you mangy mutt," a man yelled, throwing a rolled newspaper at her.
Lexa's ears flattened, and she darted across the street and into an alley. Okay, so the dog disguise didn't work as well as she hoped. What was wrong with people? Not that it really mattered. Her main goal was to get home now.
Her eyes checked the night sky. A drizzle fell now. She didn't see the alien, but he knew there was a hired gun on the loose. He would be on a higher alert than normal. She would simply have to explain to Dad about how the alien got involved.
She mentally sighed and shifted into a large bird of prey. As eager as she was to get off the streets, she didn't know how badly she wanted to return home empty handed. She had left her post, left her gear.
Left her target alive.
The only thing she didn't know was how alive she would be once she gave the news to Dad.