"Avenger"
Rated: M for violence.
DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN POWER PUFF GIRLS
Summary: A violent, twisted story taking place 20 years in the future involving Bubbles forming a resistence against the new world order. Starting with the man that ripped it all away from her. I'm vague because I want it to be a surprise.
Author's Note: Came up with this out of no where. It's based on the song "I'm not Jesus" by Apocalyptica, feel free to look them up, they're amazing. Please remember to review.
A super villain that had long retired from his petty crimes was just about to tuck in for the night. The man's age went as unknown as his name but all of the physical trivialities that came with age were beginning to catch up with him. His face was riddled with wrinkles, and he walked rather than flew, if at all. For the most part he would take a scooter through out the town. He needed no security, he had eyes everywhere. If his dress code wasn't still so odd, you wouldn't even recognize him. He wore the same fur boots that he'd been wearing all his criminal career, although they were now scuffed and tattered. He insisted on wearing fur and did not go unnoticed by the townspeople, for you see he was the ruler of the eastern quarter which included the city of Townsville, his main residence. He was only one of the four leaders of the United States, to think it had been 20 years of tyranny.
On a large hillside, at MoJoJoJo's tower (which he earlier took as residence in exchange for the northern sector of the U.S.) he smirked at his city. What a beautiful shade of red everything was. The air smelled strongly of burning leaves, just as he liked it, it smelled like fear. Sighing, never losing the sense of joy that came from looking down at the city where it all began, he turned to unlock the door to his luxurious tower. However with a couple turns of the key, he discovered that it had already been unlocked, but how? He was certain he'd locked it, there wasn't a chance he'd leave it vulnerable. He was the only one with a key. He shrugged it off, deciding that it wasn't worth mulling over. He was exhausted and wanted to lay back and have a martini. Being the ruler of the East Coast could be dreadfully tiresome.
The automatic, motion sensing lights that would come on as he walked through the doorway appeared to be shot, he stood alone in the pitch dark. Stranger and stranger still, he attempted to trigger the emergency lights with a couple claps, but they wouldn't budge. Finally he gave in to his foolish instincts. "Hello? Is anyone there?" his ifeminate voice echoed through the foyer.
"You disgust me," a sultry female voice replied from a corner, suddenly the lights flickered on, and the woman can be seen holding a remote control in one hand and twirling a machete in the other. She had a grimace on her face, she was indeed disgusted by what she saw. "You've certainly gotten old." This young woman looked to be about twenty-six years old, with choppy blond hair and vicious eyes filled with loathing. Her lips were stained a permanent red, she had a red ribbon tied around her arm. Her clothes were tight fitting and torn as the innocence that he'd ripped from her long ago. He could recognize some of the tattered parts of a torn jacket she wore as the remains of a straight jacket, from the asylum that was tucked away in the outskirts of town. Oh how he thought she'd been long gone.
"Bubbles? How did you get in here? How on earth did you rewire my lighting system?" Him was taken aback by this ghost from his past.
This enraged the woman. "That isn't my name anymore!" she snapped.
Him stayed calm and collected, "Fine, then what do they call you?" She refused to let that similar echo make her cringe, she refused to show any weakness whats-so-ever.
"It's, Winter now."
"Why's that?" he asked nonchalantly. Winter was frustrated with Him now, for not taking her seriously.
"It doesn't matter why. The point is, I'm here to kill you," the young woman cocked an eyebrow dropping the remote and charging at him with her machete.
Him dodged and cackled, his teeth were grotesque yellow. "What no super-powers?" he asked grinning at the woman swinging madly for him with the long blade. It was unlike her to fight like any ordinary human. In the old days it was all heat vision, flight, and super strength. What was so different now? Ah, that must be it! "You've lost them haven't you?" he snickered.
"Nope! I'm gonna slaughter you fair and square!" Winter swung at him hard but the old man was still just as quick as the day they met. Winter hadn't popped out her heat vision, or flewn for the twenty years in which she formulated her revenge. Not a single superpower went into making her into who she was today. No amount of chemical X could equate with her potent, fermented rage. The anticipation rolled around in her gut, the voice in her head pleading, "Kill him Kill him!" But she needed this moment to last if it were to equate with the years of pain and torment that made her into the deadly weapon she was today.
"Now, now, is this because of what I did to your sisters? I see you're wearing Blossom's ribbon on your arm!" Him taunted her, giving her every reason to hack harshly into his shoulder. He winced in pain, it was but a fraction of satisfaction to come. The heavy feel of the blade buried in his skin was a rush of excitement. Winter smiled wickedly and cackled, as the man had done before in order to taunt her.
"Yes! I want you to die! Die like a pig!" she screamed hacking the red man to bits. The sounds of the blade against his flesh were music to her ears, his screams and gasps the crescendo. She'd waited twenty years for this day, twenty grueling years! She wasn't that traumatized little girl he'd left her as anymore. She was a murder machine that had already taken a third of his guards under his nose. Him knew of a resistance rising up, but he never for a moment suspected the return of the on he'd left alive. He never thought that the weakling would be the one to take him out, more importantly, he simply never thought, but then something occured to him. Something very important.
To Winter's dread the villain she had the pleasure of slaughtering died, laughing at her. "Why the fuck are you smiling!" she screamed hacking once more at the corpse that grinned back at her. The grin was lifeless, but she could feel the mockery far beyond all the dead cells. It was as if his spirit lingered in the room continuing to taunt her with the past. Angrily she lifted herself from the floor beside him, walking for the small chair she'd sat in just moments ago. Beside it there was a small blue cooler. Once again the girl looked into the eyes of the man that had ruined her, and in disgust closed them. He was in hell now, he had no use for those eyes. In that same thought, with a scalpel in the cooler she made an incision into his torso and harvested all of the vital organs she could find. His system, was pretty simple really. She'd suspected it would be something intracate and far off from the human form, but to her surprise, on the inside Him was just like the rest of the towns people. If only she'd known this before, it might have saved her years of planning.
Winter had no trouble taking his heart and throwing it carelessly into her cooler, it would be of better use to someone elese. However as she harvested the heart, she found herself hearing small footsteps make there last few steps down the long stair case into the study. She turned holding her machete leaving the scalpel with the corpse. No way! She hadn't encountered any guards when she broke in and started rewiring the lighting system. The footsteps were small, a pet perhaps? Certainly not something that walked on all fours.
"What happned to daddy?" a small voice suddenly squeeked. The face of a young devilish red skinned girl peered from around a corner. She quivered in fear at the sight of a woman who'd slain her father, weilding a large weapon in her presence. She couldn't even scream.