Many Happy Returns

By Batzarro, and inspired by his musings at .com

A Rumble.

Earth shaking. Vibrations that move buildings, rock tables, and make many china plate collections incomplete. Then it stops.

Another rumble. It's not an earthquake. Windows become vessels for the curiosity and accompanying fear that drive the people. Then it stops.

Commuters stuck in traffic leave their cars. The silence is chilling. Everyone is waiting for yet another rumble. And then they hear her.

"Mine!" she bellows in a voice like thunder. They know her and know to fear her. Her name is Eileen. They know her as "Birthday Girl". She is currently 10 years old and 7 stories high.

It's not going to be a good day. traffic has stopped because a giant, green pre-teen is carrying along a parade float is making her way through the highway. Her every step breaking pavement, setting of car alarms, and scattering pedestrians. She brings chaos in her wake. It's a bad day for everyone but for her. For her, it is a great day. It is, after all, her birthday.

A flash. Nearly invisible to the eye. Like a fly carrying a shooting star. But it's no mere insect or coment, but the town's resident Hercules, Wordgirl.

"Stop right there, Eileen!" declared the magenta clad girl, hovering silently in front of the red haired leviathan. People like the "stop right there" routine. It makes them feel there can be a non-violent outcome. "Return that float to the warehouse!"

The giantess looked confused for a little while. Somewhere on the back of her mind, she understood clearly what was being proposed. More to the front of her mind thought, was how much she wanted that float, blinding her to the repercussions of a negative.

A "No" burst out of her mouth so hard it caused a spot simultaneous wincing. She tried to strike the flying girl by flailing her arms together along with the float. It began what was expected. The Titanomachia played by little girls.

Eventually the flying girl managed to lure the monster into losing sight of her, then slammed her head against the side of an abandoned building. Seeing no sign of surrender, she did this until the abuse Eileen's head caused to the building made it collapse, throwing her into the debris.

Where once was the float now laid a pile of girders and broken concrete. Wounded into humbleness, the girl transitioned to a more normal size and skin tone.

After a quick survey of the damage to the city, Wordgirl found the girl was gone, though she had left a trail of blood. She followed.

The wounded former-beast entered a nice house un the suburbs, unaware she was being chased. When Wordgirl entered the house, she found it clean, A little too clean especially when half the town was broken because of one of it's supposed inhabitants. She heard a noise from the kitchen and decided to approach.

A secret doorway behind the fridge. As our heroine floated slowly into it, she anticipated many scenarios, most of them traps. But none quite as terrifying as what came to be.

A long hallway sidelined with bio experiments. Vats brimming with liquid, contents obscured. She could tell faint human silhouettes behind each chamber. She wanted to wipe away the glass and reveal the contents, but a morbid fear ran up her spine. Like this chambers, and all that lie behind them, was taunting her.

She braved up. Her hands wiped the cold crystal pane at face level of what the figure would have.

Behind, a redheaded girl. She recognized the face. She had recently bashed it against a building. It was Eileen's.

Each of the chambers in the room had a naked child inside that looked like Eileen. Wordgirl choked trying not to declare how impossible it was. Yet it was. Her head turned involuntarily, a natural denial her body was implementing. She heard voices at the end of the hall. Where the blood trail lead. She walked there. Questions followed her.

She pulled the door, ready for battle, but instead found a red haired woman talking to Eileen, as she wiped the blood from her little face. Eileen curled up in her lap and shut her eyes.

The woman did not look at Wordgirl as she spoke unafraid. "I was wondering when you where gonna show up. Sit down." The pint sized powerhouse did not sit down.

"They hired me to create a hybrid of human and Alien Dna. I poured my soul into it, at the expense of my family. My little girl...she was almost ten when the car hit her. It was almost her birthday..." She stopped to swallow some tears, then she looked at Wordgirl.

" I had to. The Alien DNA we where working had perfect genetic memory! A clone would remember it all. I could have my baby again. But it's not stable, as I'm sure you can attest to."

Wordgirl felt a little dazed at the whole idea. "If you want your daughter back, why make so many clones?" asked Wordgirl.

The woman replied with a smile "The clones only last about a day, then the physical decay of internal organs kills her. It is only appropriate she remembers every day as her birthday.

A grim silence took hold. The woman was now holding a dead husk, a mere placeholder for a real person. She was ready. Ready to go to jail, ready to be free. She wished her little girl a happy birthday. And many happy returns.