Darkness of a Tortured Soul
By PD31
Summary: One, lone girl vows to keep the night safe for those who are dearest to her – no matter the cost.
Rated T for violent themes.
Prologue
Los Angeles
August 2013
Darkness had descended on Los Angeles; it was not just nightfall, it was far deeper – and darker – than the night. Hope itself seemed to have packed up and left the city.
She lives a secret life in a world of danger and torment. She isolated herself from those dearest to her for their own safety. She doesn't know when she realised that she was different, just that she figured out that she is, that she had a different purpose and calling in life to others. After High School, and all the mistakes she made and the people she hurt when she was there, she decided to dedicate her life to making the night – and the city – safe for those who encounter it.
She always was the child of the night, she reflects as she walks down the dimly lit street; her perfect sister belonged to the day, she to the night. She thinks of her best friends, of how one left to be with her dad in Europe and then, when she returned, the two of them became, officially, a couple and moved away to college together, how they had worked hard for what they have and she feels some regret that she didn't do the same. She shrugs the feeling off; she can't allow feelings to cloud her mind when the darkness is all around her, anyway this is what she works hard at. She thinks of her new flatmate and her childlike exuberance, the impression that she's incapable of an awful thought, let alone an action and reiterates her vow to keep the night and the city safe for people like her. Turning a corner she sees a guy in his early twenties being set upon by a small gang of three youths. Like her they are dressed entirely in black; only her curly tresses of dirty-blonde hair peaking under her black beanie give any hint of colour to her appearance. Unlike her their intentions are dishonourable. Stealthily she draws herself to the back of the commotion.
She doesn't announce her arrival; her silent footsteps do not betray her. Without warning she grips the arm of a would-be assailant; as he spins to face her her first swing puts him down to the ground, strangling his surprised gasp in his throat. The others turn quickly to face her, shock etched on their faces and their victim whimpering in distress on the ground. She takes a step back as the second guy charges her; a swift kick sends him to join his friend on the floor. Narrowing her eyes she advances on the third and final goon; her eyes follow his hand as he draws a knife from his jacket. She quickly reaches down and takes her own from her sock, an action that stays his hand. This is his first mistake.
Their eyes meet, his second and decisive error; her hands are a blur as she moved in and draws blood from his right arm. In pain his knife falls to the floor, the sound echoes through the otherwise still night. Equally swiftly she sinks her blade into his other arm, then into both legs. He screams and crumples, collapsing from the searing, agonising pain of his wounds; she roughly seizes his shirt and uses it to wipe the blood off her steel weapon before she sheathes it again.
The blonde spared the gang's victim a half-glance; his whimperings have ceased and he looks at her, his protector, nought but a silhouette against the dimly lit street. She surveys the three fallen would-be robbers for a moment, two unconscious and one bleeding his way to joining them, turns away and leaves the side-street without a word to her grateful fan; this mission is completed, there's nothing more to be said.
The straight-backed blonde continued to roam the streets and side-streets of Los Angeles, always on the look-out for trouble. It was, however, a thankfully quiet night in the City of Angels and after only a couple of hours and some minor skirmishes she heads for home.
Sam & Cat's apartment, Los Angeles
"Hey little red!" the blonde called as she entered their home.
"Sam! You're back! Where have you been?" the red-head's brow furrowed in confusion; she didn't like that her roommate kept disappearing for hours on end on an evening, particularly when they had kids to babysit.
"Oh, just out and about," she shrugged, keeping things deliberately vague so as not to burden her friend with the truth of who she was or what she did on an evening. "I'm gonna change then how about we watch a movie?" she suggested through gritted teeth; Cat's choice of movies seldom appealed to the blonde but she wanted a night of normality after her evening's vigilantism so she was willing to let her choose.
"Awesome!" the girl was immediately distracted by the prospect of movie night with her friend. "I'll pick one and get the popcorn!"
As Cat dashed around preparing their evening's entertainment, her blonde flatmate headed to the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She turned on the tap and began to wash the blood from her hands, literally if not figuratively.
AN: Thank you for reading, just a little teaser of a story idea. I hope to update it soon if people like it. PD.