Chapter 1. Driving you to madness
Part 1
Brick's P.O.V
Ever since we were born, my brothers and I have hated the Powerpuff girls. It's what we were made for, and as I'm standing in front of my red bowed counterpart, I feel nothing but endless hate for her ridiculous pink eyes and the lust to push her through the gravel, giving her the beating of her lifetime. These urges rush through me every time we face. The thought of her is enough to rill me up, the sight of her is making the adrenaline pump. Bloodthirst has never been this intense or welcome before.
«Causing ruckus again,» she comments, narrowing her eyes to a glare. One I'm happy to return ten folded. Licking my bottom lip, I twist the corner of my mouth upward. She hates it, and she knows I know she does. Needless to say, I'm loving it.
«Always,» I nonchalant shrug my shoulders, palms turned to the roof. The bags hanging between my thumb and index rustles with the movement. My left brow arch upwards, provoking another vein to pop up on her forehead. A rough scoff leaves my nose. The redhead groans.
«Put the money and the pickles on the floor and leave, or we're going to have -»
«To kick your asses!» her brute sister finished, fists cracking the knuckles up in a threatening manner. Didn't do much to scare me, though. Before I can ignore her and go back to talking to the leader girl, my moron of a brother finds it in him to spring to life.
«Yeah? Think you can, little girl?» my raven haired sibling snickers at her with an uneasy twitch riding through his skin. He is excited and it requires everything he has not to tackle her before saying it. He has too much energy in him. Always ready for a fight.
«Buttercup!» the pinkette scolds, turning her attention away from me. The girl makes a mute excuse, and before I know it, they're lost in argue and talk. Butch this, Buttercup that.
«He always starts it!» She defend herself, hand pointing at her most hated enemy. It opened a way for his left hand to butt in on the conversation. The heated words quickly becomes shrieking and like always, it's the hero whom jumps first. She darts through the air and punches the prepared ruff in his stomach, both colliding through the wall and out of sight in full brawl. The leader girl hovers past him, yelling after her firecracker of a sister.
Done with being ignored – how dared she? - I drop the sack of pickles in my left hand and watch her turn with a jump and stare at the covered floor. Pickles and juice everywhere. The smell is horrible and itch in my nose. Those pink eyes flare up with a fire of anger.
«Brick!» She looses herself and bolts at me. Just like her, I know how to push her buttons broken. My right hand opens and the paper scatters all around the bank, just in time to catch the incoming fist. I do, however, not see the foot in time, and a sharp pain crackles from my abdomen and we break the window on our way out.
My blond brother glances from me to his counterpart, she seems equally as nervous, before we lock eyes. Beat her, I tell him before he's lost to me. We tumble and roll around, ending a couple blocks down, taken two walls and a dumpster with us in the chaos. Her ever so perfect, pink bow is crumbed, probably from when I had grabbed a hold of it and tried to ram her head through the asphalt.
Her lip is busted, I notice as she roll to a standing position, hands hovering in the air in defence. The sound of cars honking, people talking and her heavy breathing fills my ears, the other pair of superhuman's causing a huge blast in the distance. Hot blood is already pumping through my veins, muscles twitching in anticipation and awareness. The smell of her sweat, garbage and sweet shampoo invades my nostrils and it's sickening. It makes me angry. Hell, the mere sight of her is enough to invoke my wrath.
I take the initiative, kicking from the ground and connect my fist with her chin. It makes a sickening crack as the redhead is sent tumbling into the building across the street. It bends over and people scream, cry, scramble, but none of them anticipates me.
«Stand in the way,» I command, and they follow my orders without questions. I can make people do whatever I want, and the hero comes to rescue. The girl grabs the building, another bloody streak down her chin, dripping. Her arms shake under the heavy weight.
«Didn't think it'd be over so soon. Come on, you can do better,» I grunt the last word as I kick her out of the way, dashing after. The screams are drowned out as the building comes down with a crushing weight.
She suddenly picks herself up, and her pedal shakes my brain with a powerful kick to the chin. It spins my world, my body, my mind around like a record, and I feel bricks give away under the force, metal bend and asphalt crack as my shoulder dislocates, two fingers break in awkward angles, my scull crack, and clavicle ruptures. Crimson blood is spit on the ground. An annoying peeping lingers inside my ears, and I stumble off my knees. They were torn and ripped, skin muddy and a crust of gravel and liquid sticking to it.
The earth shakes as she places the building down and out of harms way, ordering the civilians off the battlefield. She isn't taking me seriously unless there's a life and death situation for the blasted residents. Always paying them more mind than me. Even when I'm busy beating the shit out of her, the puff thinks of them. Why wouldn't she take me serious?
I growl, gaining her attention. A faint hint of panic shines in her pink irises, but it's not for me. It's not for her life. She's scared what kind of casualties I might make, and she's right about that.
«Pick up the broken glass!» I yell. Our eyes lock. Sobbing ugly and crying like animals, they follow.
«No!» she calls out to the rest whom wasn't fast enough to get out of the way. They're merely a handful, but that'll do. «Brick, stop it,» she begs. Oh, the pleading is music to my ears, twisting the corner of my lips upwards.
«You, kill yourself,» I order as her heart wrenching scream fills my ear, blood splattering on the closest wall. The gasping and spasms passes as she stands over the corpse, tears falling from her cheeks. Somehow, it isn't as pleasing as I'd hoped. Bored with the game, I go back to my violent assault.
My female counterpart doesn't resist. She moves with my blows – thrown left, right, up, down – eyes closed and a twisted grimace on her face. I know the puff is blaming herself and seeing this as punishment for failing, but that only angers me. The girl can't escape my wrath that easily. She's to hurt more, cry more, die more, knowing I'm the one causing it.
«Look at me,» I command, grabbing a hold of her straight, silky hair. Yanking hard in it, I lift her off the ground and stares down in her beaten face. In contrast to the ones I can order around as I like, she's free of my hold. I can't make her do anything, I can't order her, and it's making me hate her even more.
«Look at me!»
«No!» She grabs at my wrist, trying to force herself out of the strong grip. I'm not letting go, even with two aching, broken fingers. She's not getting away from this. The blasted puff and her fucking resistance to my powers. She's nothing special. She's no one!
«If you're not looking at me, I'll make someone else kill themselves. Then another one. And another one, until you're looking at me. How many has to die for your selfish request? Huh?!» I tease her. Always has to be the hero, save everyone. Her puffed eyes slowly open and those pink orbs that always hunt me whenever I close my eyes stare back at me. They're fuelled with hate, anger and rage. Soft tears stream down her cheek. It brings me no pleasure. If only I could make her do it instead of asking. Fuck!
I throw her on the ground.
«You're a coward, Brick.» Her soft voice barely reaches my superhuman senses.
«What did you say?» I hiss, stepping closer to the mess she has become.
«Always hiding behind innocent bystanders, what? You're not man enough to take me on yourself? You're scared of a little girl?» The redhead tries her best to stand up, but I kick her down by the shoulder. She stumbles back. I mount her stomach, keeping her wormy form in place.
«What's that? Can't hear you over the sound of broken bones.» Her arm makes a sickening sound as I break it. The girl screams in pain. It draws out before ending in loud sobs. Now this was making me feel better. Her heartbeat slows down, and before I can make up my mind what to do next, she spits me in the face.
Surprised at the sudden wetness, I don't see the incoming right hook. It connects with my previous injury, and the world goes completely black. My conscience is slipping, but I feel another thud to my back and stomach, some girly screaming for her sister, as I chuckle softly. That's more like it.