Chapter Four: The Trigger Effect

Two weeks went by, and we had no luck in getting anywhere close to finding out who this 'mystery savior was'. We did some digging, sure, but most of the time, we just wrote about random events going on at Barden.

While working for Barden Weekly, I got to know more about Jessica and Benji. Turns out, Benji really is a nice guy. Respectful, kind, and more than willing to help do his fair share of helping me find stories.

And even Jessica, despite her previous reservations towards me, actually seemed like a nice person. She's just really committed to her job. In fact, I'd say she's almost too committed, even calling in absent for Bellas practice.

Speaking of which, I like all of the girls in this group. They're all good people. I like Chloe, even if she does seem a little neurotic. Amy is fun to be around, but can be a little irritating. CR is friendly enough, though maybe a little too friendly at times. I haven't had much of an opportunity to get to know Stacie yet. Flo and Lily are admittedly strange, but nice enough. And all I really know about Ashley so far is that she and Jessica are in a relationship.

But I must admit, none of them are quite as interesting as Beca Mitchell. There is something undeniably off-putting about her. It's not the way she dresses, or the way she talks, or even the way she acts. But it's just… something about her piqued my curiosity.

Whatever it was, there was a part of me that wanted to know more about her. It desired to know more about her.


Jessica sat at her desk. A cup of coffee was placed neatly on a coaster, but just far away enough for it to not spill on her computer. Her fingers rammed away at the keyboard.

She had been searching the internet for hours, trying to find as many articles as she could about their little 'mystery vigilante'. But all that she could find were a series of articles dating back to 2012, and almost all of them were the same story.

The same story being that an unknown and unidentified figure who could only be described by possible victims as a violent, almost merciless vigilante wearing a hood, and speaking with a deep, guttural voice.

The blonde, wearing her hat and reading glasses, grabbed the coffee mug, and sipped from it. "All of these articles are the same. Just somebody in Chicago who used to take on some folks who were stupid enough to either rob a store, or cruel enough to try to rape people."

After setting the mug down, Jessica clenched her fists, and pressed them to her face. "Shit… what if… what if this is the same person? What if all evidence, that we know of, points to this… 'vigilante' being our little savior?"

As she contemplated the possibility of a connection, Benji and Emily walked in. "Hey, Jess! We're back!" The younger girl announced. "Lovely. Did you get any story ideas?" Jessica asked in a monotonous deadpan.

"Well… no. We had some, but none of them were very good. Try this: Bumper Allen, former Trebles leader, returns! Only no one gives a shit that he's back." Benji joked, to which Emily laughed.

"What about you? You find anything?" Emily asked. Jessica's eyebrows widened behind her glasses. She had no idea whether she wanted to be truthful with the new Bella, or simply lie to her, and tell her that she hadn't been searching for leads behind her back.

"Not a thing. There's nothing interesting or SFW that we could print at the moment." The older Bella sighed. Then, her phone began buzzing in her back pocket.

Jessica took the phone out of the pocket, slid the answer key, and answered. "Hello? Yeah, I know I said… look, I'm sorry, Ash, but I can't make it back now! I've got a ton of crap to deal with… look, I get that, but… ugh. Yeah, we'll talk about it, later. I love you, too. Okay. Bye." And with that, she hung up.

She turned her chair around, and found Emily and Benji attempting not to make it clear to her that they heard the conversation. "You can stop pretending. I know you heard that. And you both don't need to talk about that with anyone. Got it?" They nodded their heads, getting the memo.

Then, Ross stepped out of his office, an expression on his face that sent all kinds of signals. Excitement, frustration, intrigue, and more. But one thing was for certain: there was a story.

"Are you three all that I have at the moment?" He questioned. They nodded their heads in unison, as the old newsman sighed. "Well, you wanted an interesting story, right? Well, reports are coming in from a warehouse in West Atlanta, a little way out from the city. Something about a wrecked warehouse."

The three didn't even need to think twice. "We're on it. Benj, get the truck ready. Emily, grab a camera and a notepad. I want us out of here in five minutes. Got it?" Jessica demanded. Benji saluted her in response, and Emily replied with a blunt "I'm on it." Then, the two of them were off to do what they were told to do.

All the while, Jessica bit her lip. "Maybe this could be the big break we've been waiting for… Let's find out."


Trucks surrounded the place. News crews, paramedics, detectives, and cops stood both outside and inside, with those who were investigating on the inside, observing the area and searching for evidence as to what on God's Earth could have happened in there.

The inside of the warehouse was a wreck. Across the floor, eighteen bodies lay, their bones broken, their teeth shattered, and blood pouring from their noses and mouths.

At the same time, six small children, none of them related to one another, sat still, as they were observed by doctors for injuries. No one knew why they were there, or what reason the men laying down on the ground had for having them there. All that mattered, in that moment, was that they were safe and, from the looks of it, unharmed.

As four more cars pulled up outside of the place, a skinny, tall man with brown hair smokes his cigarette as he sat in the passenger seat of one of them. He knew his wife had told him not to, but, at the same time, the stuff was so damn addicting, he didn't know how to stop.

The man was 58, just barely pushing 60. His coat was draped over his body, and his one free hand, the one devoid of a cigarette, was tucked nicely into his pocket.

A tag on the breast pocket of his coat read 'Lieutenant David Collins'. It was his given name, after all. And, as the vehicle pulled up to the building, nearly coming to a complete stop, he pulled the cigarette from between his teeth.

Shaking his head, and letting the smoke escape from his mouth, Collins and the other officer, a rookie by the name of Weigand, got out of the car.

Had this been two weeks earlier, Collins would have already known what would happen. He'd be unsurprised by whatever awaited him inside the warehouse, while everyone else would be making a big deal about it. It had happened countless times before, and would happen again.

Only the past two weeks had offered him something he hadn't seen before. Behind the doors of these hideouts would be men with their bones somehow broken by God-knows-what, their guns shattered into pieces, and anything that they were working on destroyed. Collins didn't count on that.

What he especially didn't count on was a van pulling up at that moment. Collins first noticed it when they drove along the road, but paid no attention to it. Now, as the lights beamed upon him, and pulled in closer and closer to his body, it became impossible to ignore.

He and Weigand, who quickly drew his weapon from its holster, turned to see the lights. And, eventually, the van which they belonged to pulled to a complete stop. And out came three individuals: a young man, a blonde young woman, and a younger-looking brunette girl.

"What the Hell are you kids doing here? This is a crime scene, not a club." Weigand brashly questioned, slowly putting his gun back in his holster.

The blonde raised her arms up. "Easy, officers. We're not trying to cause any trouble." She explained, observing that the scene had just gotten tense.

"We're just here on assignment. We're… uh… we're reporters, in a way. We're with Barden Weekly, it's a campus paper at-", The boy began, only for Collins to interrupt by putting his right hand up, as if to indicate to him 'stop talking'.

"I know where Barden is. I have a nephew who goes there. And I know Nathan. My question is this: if you go in there, will you at least stick close to Officer Weigand and I at all times, even if you are asking questions?" Collins cautiously asked.

The blonde bit her lip, almost hesitant about the aging officer's demands. But, nevertheless, she nodded her head in accordance with his wishes.

"Good. But before we go in, I need your names. All of them." Collins demanded. "Um… Jessica Smith, Sargeant. The two with me are Benjamin Applebaum and Emily Junk." Jessica explained.

Then, the wizened cop bobbed his head, and turned to walk through the door. "Well, then. If you're ready to see some heavy shit, come right along."


What was inside the warehouse was nothing short of astonishing to the three newsfolk. All were surprised by what they found, but none were as shocked as Emily.

She couldn't begin to imagine what horrors had occurred before she, Jessica, and Benji came. It was a complete theater of chaos. Across multiple tables, there were surgical supplies, namely rib-spreaders and scalpels.

Emily shook her head at the tools, refusing to think of what the people in the warehouse had planned to use them for. Or who they were going to use them on.

She looked at Benji and Jessica, and could see that, judging by the looks on their faces, they were just as disturbed as she.

The nightmarish imagery only got more disturbing, as they walked through the destroyed establishment. Corridor upon corridor, they observed multiple broken cans of chemicals. Chemicals of all kinds, both legal and illegal.

Emily tried, and failed, to ignore it. She just couldn't. No matter how much she tried, and no matter how much she wanted to, she simply couldn't.

But what took all three completely off guard was the space in the middle of the warehouse. A space where multiple men were lifted off of their broken legs, and placed on beds in ambulances, and six small children, all no older than seven years old, being examined by doctors and nurses alike.

The dark-haired girl couldn't help but wince at the sight of these children, these young, innocent children, being checked for signs of harm. She bit her lip, making an effort not to tear up at the miserable, sullen expressions on their faces.

Benji saw her uncomfortability, and gripped her hand. Emily looked at him, the tears all-too visible in the tips of her eyelids. "I'm so sorry…" He muttered, grimacing at the ground.

As tears slid down her face, Emily loosened her face, and stood. Determined. Confident. She took her hand out of Benji's hand, as gently as she could, and walked in the direction of the children.

Jessica stopped pacing, and turned to look at the raven-haired girl, her mouth hanging wide-open. "What does she…?" She questioned, looking with disbelief at the girl.

Emily ignored Jessica's protests, and stood beside the children. One by one, they all looked at her with a different expression on their face. "Hi. I'm… I'm Emily."

At first, the children were unsure of what to do, or even say. All of them remained silent. Emily understood this. "Why wouldn't they want to remain silent? They've probably been through Hell, or worse. Jesus, I don't want to think about what could possibly be worse…"

Exhaling, the teen said, "Okay. I get it. I get that you guys might be scared. And that's okay. You have every right to be. But I'm with my friends over there, see them? That's Jessica, and that's Benji." She pointed at the two behind her, still staring with disbelief.

"And we wanted to ask you guys a few questions. We just want to know what happened. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. I know that this must be really scary… but if any of you want to share, please tell me."

All of a sudden, everyone's eyes were on Emily. All of them were looking at her. Jessica, Benji, Sargeant Collins, the officers with him, the kids, even a few of the doctors treating the children.

Yet, no one could think of anything to say. No one knew what to say. Emily frowned, feeling guilty for asking these children, these innocent kids, to tell her what they had been exposed to. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

"We've been here for a week." A small voice piped up. Suddenly, Emily looked up, surprised that someone had spoken. "Who said that?" She questioned, to which a young girl with short, brunette locks slowly raised her hand.

"They… they took me when I was with my Mommy and Daddy at the park. They took me in their truck, and brought me here." The little girl continued, in a small but clear voice, as Emily moved closer to her.

"They took you. They took you, and brought you here? Were these other kids here when you got here?" Emily kindly asked, to which the little girl shook her head. "No… not all of them. Three of them were here before me. And two others were brought in on the same day as me."

Emily was horrified. Beyond horrified. She was at a complete loss for words. "They took these kids. They just snatched them up, like it was nothing. These fucking savages…"

Jessica slowly walked over, and Benji followed suit. "Did… did they do anything to you? To any of you? Did they hurt you? At all?" Emily questioned once more, with all of the children shaking their heads.

"No. But they measured us. Took our weight, height. Made us stand on scales. I heard one of them say they were going to run a few tests on us…" The little girl quivered, as she closed her eyes.

Tears, soft, small tears, like raindrops at a funeral, rolled down her face. She was tired, exhausted. And Emily? Emily found herself in tears, as well. Wet, big tears rolled down her cheeks. She breathed heavily as she looked at the girl.

"I just… I just want my Mommy. I want my Mommy and my Daddy." The little girl wailed, as she suddenly forced her small body onto Emily's, sobbing.

Emily, being the person she was, wrapped her arms around the poor girl, closing her eyes as she did so. For a few moments, that was all that mattered. This little girl in her arms was the only thing on her mind. The only thing she could think about.

"... And I want my guardian angel to always be here to protect us…"

Emily's tearful eyes shot wide open. She moved her head upward to look at the little girl. "What? What… what did you just say?"

"My… our guardian angel. She was the one who saved us. All of us. If she wasn't here… they would have hurt us." The little girl explained. Her mouth agape, Emily looked at the other children, as they all nodded in assent.

Removing her arms from the little girl, Emily asked, to all of the children, "Who exactly is your guardian angel?"


"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" The child screeched, as two very big and armored men, with big guns attached to their hips, dragged her by the arms to the operation room.

"Stop squirming, kid. You're only gonna make this worse!" One of the two men commanded, but the child wouldn't listen. She strained and tried to break free of their grasp, but found herself unable to do so.

Not knowing what else to do in the moment, the girl bit into the man to her left on the arm. She bit as hard and as long as she could, while the man briefly screamed, then grunted as the two continued to drag her to the operation room.

Before the kid knew it, they were in a brightly lit, white room with an operating table right in the center, and multiple machines surrounding said table, with a few medical supplies scattered throughout.

It was a mad surgeon's dream, and his patient's nightmare. Syringes, rubber tubing, pliers, anesthesia, and more all made their appearance, like the extras in a Broadway play. It looked like a torture chamber. It was a torture chamber. And everyone in the room knew this.

Walking up to the table, the two men dragged the little girl over, and put her body onto it, one strapping her in while the other held her down. She kicked and screamed, but nothing stopped. She was still there, still on that table, being prepped for God-knows-what.

As soon as she was completely strapped in, she looked around the room once more. Her breathing was heavy, and her heart racing. "What is this? What are you going to do to me?"

At that moment, a man dressed in a doctor's uniform emerged from the shadows of a corner in the right-hand side of the room. A false, disturbing grin was plastered to his face as he soon found himself standing directly next to the girl.

"This is a historic day, little girl. Today, you will be the first of many to receive our… special treatment. From this day forward, you will no longer be just a normal child. You, my dear, will be a weapon. A soldier. There will be no more fun and games, no more cookies and milk, or Mommy and Daddy tucking you into bed and reading you a story. That is over… and now, it's time to join the war."

The doctor darkly laughed, but the girl noticed that it was not a hearty life, like that of her kind Father. It was cold, cruel, dead. Evil. And it frightened her to the core.

She kicked and grunted. She didn't want to be there. She was certain that nobody, none of the other children, wanted to be there. "Now, now, young lady! It's not polite to squirm at the doctor's office!" The doctor darkly joked, as he grabbed a pointy, sharp syringe from a platter, and the two mooks sadistically laughed.

Then, he slowly, menacingly walked over to the straining girl. "My dearest child… there is no escape from this. You can kick and scream all you want, but the fact of the matter is that your childhood, your life as you know it is over. Now, you will comply with everything we demand of you and do exactly as we say, or there will be-"

The speech was interrupted by a loud, shrill scream. A male voice. One of their own. "What was that?" One of the mooks asked. "Well, don't just stand there! The both of you, get out and see what's going on! Don't come back until you've dealt with it! I'll be busy with the serum and the brat, anyhow." The doctor demanded.

With a nod of their heads, the two men raised their weapons, and tiptoed out of the room, as the doctor proceeded to fill the syringe with a liquid from a container.


The two men crept down the hall, their weapons cocked and drawn, towards the location of where they heard the scream coming from. Both were nervous, but neither could show it through the expressionless, dark masks that they wore on their faces.

As soon as they walked over to the location, they realized they could barely see anything. The hallway was darkly lit, with only a light hanging overhead to show them anything.

And all that they could see, just by the light, was a gun. An emptied assault rifle, laying on the floor. "What the fuck?" One of them asked, as the other slowly moved towards the weapon, bending down to grab it.

As he brought it up to his face, the mook examined it, and took notice of multiple details. The bullets had been emptied, and the clip within it was nowhere to be found.

The other mook walked over, and looked at the gun in his partner's hand. "What in the Hell is going-"

He was interrupted by his head slamming smack dab into the other's. As if on cue, both fell to the ground in a slump. As one of them groaned, a hooded figure kicked him in the face, knocking him completely unconscious.

"Hey, what the Hell was that?" Another voice yelled, his footsteps growing louder. He was approaching. Thinking quickly, the figure backed into the dark hall, her body completely obscured by pitch black nothingness.

The mook stumbled into the hall, and saw his friends, all scattered on the floor. He ran over to their mangled bodies. "Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, as he pulled out his radio.

"Code red! I think there might be an intruder in-" He began, before becoming unable to finish the sentence, for he was lifted off the ground, and into the air.

Unable to move, or do anything, he screamed, before being thrown onto the ground. He groaned, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. But before he did, the last thing he saw was a short figure with a hood draped over his or her head.


The doctor grew increasingly worried. He had heard the screams, and he was beginning to feel a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. He was nervous, stressed. "Keep it together… you're in here… nothing can get to you. Nothing."

Just to be safe rather than sorry, he paced over to the door, and sealed it. He tapped a four-number code into a digital computer keyboard, locking it down completely.

He was panting, sweating. His nerves were completely wracked. And he wasn't sure what to do at the moment.

Then, he remembered something. Something, or someone, very important: the girl. The man turned his head, looking at the child with malice in his eyes, and a grin on his face.

"Ah, yes! How could I forget about you, my dear? You are the most important piece to this puzzle!" He exclaimed, grabbing the now-filled syringe with a sense of urgency.

"Please… please, don't hurt me." The young girl pleaded. The doctor faked a hurt expression on his face, and clutched his heart in his hand.

"Hurt you? Why, my sweet child, why would I hurt you?" He asked, a fake, sickening sweetness in his voice. "Because… you're a… a bad man." She stuttered.

"Me? A bad man? Oh, no. I am not a bad man. I am nothing more than a doctor. A doctor under orders to turn the brats and whiners of this world into what we really need them for: soldiers. You will be the start of a new generation. A new stage of evolution. And in due time, you will be thankful."

He laughed. That cold, dark, evil laugh. It sent a chill down the child's spine, as he walked over, the syringe shaking in his twitching hand. The girl closed her eyes. She knew that there was no escape. No possible way for her to get out.

"Mommy… Mommy, please save me."

As if on cue, the sealed-shut door began to crack. From the other side, something, or someone, was ramming into it. The doctor swiftly turned on his heels, his eyes widening as the door came undone.

The little girl, with her eyes still squinting, slightly opened them to see what on Earth was doing this. And all that she saw was the doctor grabbing an AK-47 from the ground, cocking it as the door was nearly through.

Finally, it opened. And in walked the figure. Suddenly, the girl opened her eyes fully, as the doctor starred in horror at the person with a hood on. "Get away from us! GET AWAY!" He screamed, clicking the trigger, and firing off twenty rounds in ten seconds. Two bullets for each second.

And yet… the figure was unfazed. The bullets bounced off her chest like nothing had happened. Both the doctor and the little girl watched as she came closer, the formerly disturbed man now shivering, and the gun no longer producing bullets.

He clicked on the trigger, but nothing came of it. "Oh, Goddammit…" He muttered, a terrified expression on his face. Then, the woman ripped the empty weapon from his hands, and using her own two hands, broke it in half over her knee.

The doctor backed into the corner he had been so intent on staying in earlier, sinking to the floor in fear. "Hmmph. Look at you, Doctor Wells. The second I'm in the room, you turn back into the weasel that you are."

The doctor was trembling. His eyes were raised as he looked up at the hooded female, confirmed by her deep, gravelly voice, with an obvious fear. "You… you're… you're…"

"Alive? Yes. And as you can see, I'm a lot better than the last time we met. You, on the other hand… you are about to enter a world of pain."


The child paused paused, biting her lip momentarily. Emily took notice, and sympathetically put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to finish this if you don't want to."

Automatically, the young girl looked up at her, a look of frightened determination on her face. "No! I can't stop… I need to tell you everything. You need to know." She exclaimed, taking Emily completely by surprise. Unsure as to how she should react, she looked back at Jessica, who sullenly nodded her head. She looked at Benji, who was clearly trying to hold back tears as he listened in horror.

Looking back at the child, Emily exhaled. "Okay. Tell me what happened next. Tell me everything."


With a motion so quick the little girl could barely see it with her own eyes, the woman grabbed the doctor's hands. But before she could do anything, she turned her head to face the child, and said, "Sweetie… look away."

Without hesitation, the girl closed her eyes. But it did her no good, as she could still hear the doctor's horrible, blood-curdling scream of pain, as well as the sound of multiple blows to his body.

Her eyes may have been closed, but her reaction to the sound was no different. She cringed, as anyone would have, at the sound of bones breaking, the Doctor's horrible grunting, and worst of all, the woman's panting.

She was breathing heavily. Her heart raced, like a chariot in a gladiator match. She took no enjoyment out of breaking his bones, one by one, or further bloodying his face. But at the same time, she felt some satisfaction with herself. With what she was doing.

At the same time, she felt that she was doing the right thing. Or maybe it wasn't the right thing. Maybe what she was doing was evil. Or a necessary evil, perhaps.

All at once, there were so many things running through her mind. Things she couldn't possibly fathom to think about, to contemplate, or to come to a conclusion to about, all at the same time.

Time… time… it seemed as if, as her grasp on the doctor's body grew tighter, as the little girl opened her eyes, as if to catch a glimpse of the body horror show in front of her, time itself slowed down.

"Don't you think it's time to end this?" A voice growled out from behind her. Beca's eyes widened, as she quickly spun around. The powerful clutch she had on her enemy's body had disappeared.

For a moment, in the split second that she had turned to look at the figure speaking to her, Beca's mouth opened, as if to speak. But instead, her expression was replaced with a sullen, but determined, look.

"Never. I made my choice. I'm not going back." Beca calmly reminded herself, as she turned to face the doctor once more. "You also swore off exposing yourself to the world, and look where it's got you now. So, what's the point of this if you're not going to just come out of the shadows?" The person reprimanded, her fists clenched.

This figure looked like Beca. Sometimes, Beca herself was convinced that the person only she could see was her. The real her. She looked like her. She dressed like her. But she was not her. This figure was plain, dark, completely devoid of color. Cold, distant. Her voice was low in pitch, but just as fiery in impact.

Beca shook her head in protest. "I know what I'm doing." "Do you? Or are you just saying that to get me out of our head?" The figure questioned.

"I already told you. I've got this." Beca hissed at the blue phantom. "Well, if we listen to you, then we wait until one night, you can't take it anymore. Maybe somebody finally gets their hands on our 'kryptonite'. You die, and what happens then?"

Beca bit her lip. She knew that what the thing was saying had merit to it. There was no denying that. But at the same time, she didn't want to focus on the future. All that mattered was the now.

And right now, there was a brutally beaten man in a lab coat begging for his life while on his knees, and an innocent little girl strapped to a medical table, being forced to watch and listen. That was the now. And it scared Beca in ways she didn't want to admit.

"People have tried to kill me before. It didn't work then, and it won't work now. And whatever it was that could kill me was destroyed already." The vigilante bitterly remarked, gritting her teeth.

Her mind wandered further. Back to the past. A harsher time. A darker period. One where, for her, hope seemed like a thing only of the imagination. She thought of everything. The hospital. The experiments. The doctors. The fire...

Sighing, the masked brunette closed her eyes, looking away from the creature that resembled her. "At this point in time, everything they could throw at me is worthless. Bullets… knives… everything."

The figure was not pleased. If anything, the anger in her eyes was showing more and more with every word Beca said.

"What if you're wrong? What if the only thing that can kill you is still out there? What if these are the same people as before? What if you can't stop them this time? HOW MUCH LONGER DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAY ALIVE?" She questioned, her fury becoming uncontainable.

Beca had heard more than enough. "Quiet, or I'll-", She began, before the figure towered over her, her fists raised. "NO! I WON'T SIT AND WATCH WHILE YOU SLOWLY DESTROY OUR LIFE!" The figure yelled. With every word that was screamed, Beca could feel a hair on her right arm standing up.

And all she could do, or say, was, "What… do you want from me?"

Suddenly, the figure had reverted to a calmer stasis. Her eyes grew tired, and her arms slumped to her sides. "I don't want to watch us die. To see you slowly killing us. Aren't you afraid? How could you not be? How do you not realize what this could do? Don't you think it's time to stop?"

Beca gulped. Her heart beat rapidly as sweat drenched her forehead, rolling down her cheek and unto her chin. She didn't want to admit it, but the figure was right. She was terrified. Even with the powers she had, and the hope that her 'kryptonite' was completely eradicated, she always feared that one night, the worst would come. And she would be no more.

"Think about Dad. Think about Jesse. Think about the Bellas. Think about Emily, Amy, Lily, Stacie, CR, Jessica, Ashley, Flo. Think about… think about Chloe. How they'd take it if they lost us for good. You wouldn't want that, would you? You don't have to keep fighting…"

For a few moments, Beca stayed completely frozen. She was lost in thought, and at a complete loss for words. It was as if the world had stopped spinning completely, and time was gone.

And then, as if at the snap of a finger, the world began to spin again. It started slow, but sure enough, time returned to its natural pace. The figure had disappeared, and once more, Beca found herself gripping the pleading doctor.

He was a pathetic worm in her arms. Groaning, tears slowly falling down his face. "I'm… I'm sorry… p-please, don't hurt me… please…"

Briefly, Beca took pity upon the doctor. Though the expression on her face didn't say it, she almost felt sorry for the snivelling weasel that was preparing to torture a child.

The child.

Her eyes widened, Beca looked at the little girl. She was trembling from head to toe. "Oh, my God… I can't kill him. Not in front of the girl. I gotta get the poor kid outta here."

Turning her attention to Doctor Wells once more, she whispered, in a low, dark hiss, "You're alive because of her." And then, she landed a powerful punch to his face, knocking out several teeth, as Wells' unconscious body fell to the floor.

She was panting. Through heavy breaths, she looked up at the little girl. "It's okay to open your eyes." She murmured, as the child slowly opened her eyelids.

In the kid's eyes, Beca could see the terror inside. The shock at the darkly dressed person who stood before her. She was scared, and understandably so. "He… he was going to hurt me. He said he would. I… I'm scared."

Beca walked over to the table. "I know, kid. I know." As she reached out to break the girl from her bonds, the child flinched. "Wait!" She exclaimed, her voice displaying a fear Beca herself was all too familiar with.

"What is it?" She calmly asked. Beca knew that, in cases like this, raising your voice or being impatient with a kid was dangerous. "I'm still scared." The little girl admitted.

It took a moment for her to realize what the kid was afraid of, but as soon as she did, everything clicked. Slowly, the young woman put her hand to her chest. "Of… of me?" Beca stuttered, to which the little girl nodded.

"It's your mask. It makes me scared." The child said. In response, Beca sighed. In her mind, the mantra she had set up for herself took precedent.

"Never let anyone know…", She didn't want to do what she knew would ease the child, but at the same time, she knew it was the right thing to do.


"Did you get a good look at your… your guardian angel's face?" Emily questioned. Erica looked at the ground, taking a moment to truly consider her next words.

Then, just as quickly as she had stayed silent, she looked up, and bluntly answered, "No."


Beca pulled down the black hood over her head, and slowly removed the gray mask that covered every part of her face above her mouth.

The little girl's eyes grew bigger as the realization sunk into her. "You're… you're…", She started, but couldn't seem to finish her sentence. "I'm just a girl. Just a normal girl without the mask. What's your name?" Beca politely asked.

At first, the girl didn't know how to respond. She had seen the woman standing before her on the news. Her Mother watched the news every day, and she recognized her face from a piece on an all-female acapella group at some college nearby.

"I'm Erica." The child nervously introduced herself, as Beca offered a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Erica. I'm… I'm Beca. Let's get you outta here, huh?"

But as Beca reached for the bonds once more, the hairs on her arm tensed up. She could hear… footsteps. Guns cocking in the distance. Shotguns, AR-15s, Walthers, Berettas, Uzis, and smoke pellets. Five men. This was gonna hurt.

"I can't let you out now." Beca said, as she pulled back on her mask and hood. "What? But, you said you would!" Erica protested. Beca's heart raced as she heard the footsteps coming closer.

"Listen to me, Erica. You need to trust me. There are guys with guns coming here right now. I need you to hide in the room across the hall. I'm gonna deal with these jerks. Can you do that?" Beca hurriedly asked. She didn't mean to spring this on the child, but she had to. Time was running out.

Erica's head bobbed up and down in understanding. "Good. Hide in that room. Don't come out until I say it's okay to come out." Beca silently commanded the girl, who quickly ran across the hall and into a supply closet, closing the door behind her. Then, Beca backed into a dark corner, obscured by shadows once more.


The five men were nerve-wracked. Sweat soaked their faces beneath their masks. "Let's go! Let's go!" The leader, a muscular man with an assault rifle gripped tightly in his hands, commanded, before they stood directly outside the door where the Doctor said he would be operating.

"Smoke pellets ready." A slightly skinnier man holding an Uzi in his left hand, and a handful of smoke pellets in his other, whispered. "If you see anyone in there that isn't the kid or Doctor Wells, shoot on sight." The leader called out.

"Pellets dropping in three… two… one." A third man said, before the criminal with smoke pellets in his grasp let go, and threw them into the room.

"Masks on." A fourth man called out, to which the five men proceeded to put on said goggles, so as to see through the smoke, and, as a bonus, avoid coughing. "Enter the room." The fifth man spoke.

The five gunmen slowly walked into the room. "I can't see anything in here. It's too dark." The skinny man complained. "That's because the fucking lights are broken, genius." The second-in-command growled.

"Hey, slick. Do us all a favor and shut up. We need to stay focused, and that means-", the leader began, before being interrupted by the gasp of the fourth man. "Oh, God. EVERYONE! Get your asses over here, now!"

The four other men, who had been formerly scattered throughout the room, paced over towards the table, where the now unconscious Doctor Wells lay next to. "Holy shit. What the Hell happened to-ARGH!" The fifth man howled in pain.

"Soldier? What the Hell is-AGH!" The fourth yelled. The leader's heart was racing at rapid fire speed. Not only were his men being taken out one by one, he couldn't see how or who was taking them out one by one.

"Stay calm! Let's just-", SNAP. "ARGH!" The third man screamed, before another blow was landed unto his body, knocking him unconscious. As the leader aimed his gun, he saw the second man drop his weapon, and begin running.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! HELP ME!" He exclaimed. "Fuck you, man! You're on your own!" The second-in-command yelled, before making his exit from the smoke-filled torture chamber.

As he ran, the second-in command heard what sounded like a bone snapping. He recognized his leader's voice, and heard his horrible howl of pain before once more, another blow landed, this one more powerful than the last.

The smoke had finally cleared. Once more, Beca could see the room. And what a mess it had become. The men that were so determined beforehand had been reduced to a pile on the floor.

Her breath was heavy. Heavier than she had felt before. She wanted to rest. To close her eyes, for she felt tired. It had been a long night. But she didn't. She couldn't. Innocent lives were still at stake. And there were still more men in the building. "There's gonna be Hell to pay."

She paced out of the room, before standing up against the supply closet door. "Beca?" Erica's small voice called out from behind the wood. "It's okay, kid. You can come out, now." Beca whispered in a calm voice.

Two seconds later, and the girl opened the door. "Look, I need you to tell me something. It's very important. You ready?" She asked, as Erica nervously nodded her head. "Okay. I know that there are other kids here. And you know that I'm not gonna let them get hurt. So I need to know where they are. Can you tell me if you know?"

Erica pursed her lips. She was still afraid. Beca could tell just judging by the expression on her face. And she didn't blame her. "Erica, please, tell me where they are. I swear, I will get you and them out of here. I promise. I won't let anyone take you away ever again."


In the center of the building, there was a room. In this big room, there were boxes containing weapons, substances that could only be found on the black market, and God only knows what else there was hidden in the labs they had stationed all across the room.

The remaining men that were assigned to guard the place had their weapons raised. All of them wielded something in their arms, all with the intention of killing. Whether it be knives, or grenades, shotguns, assault rifles, or semi-automatics, or even a simple handgun, they were all armed. Some of them had their weapons locked and loaded already. Others were just getting started prepping themselves.

One thing was for certain: all of them had to be prepared for whatever the Hell was about to come at them.

"Gentlemen, remember your training! What we are dealing with can't be anything more than a well-trained task force with a few people sent in to deal with us. They've been successful, but that's about to end once they meet our firepower. Whatever they've got, they aren't prepared for us."

As one of the few remaining commanders made a decent attempt to reassure his troops, the sound of footsteps made its way to their ears. Coming from the central corridor.

"Move to location!" A second man called out. His orders were followed, as all the men moved to the corridor, some crouching down so as to get a better angle, others standing tall to see better. All were nervous, but some wouldn't show it.

For ten split seconds, nobody did or heard anything. There was no movement in the room. The men with guns, knives, and grenades stood in their assigned positions, completely still. For ten split seconds, there was complete silence. Nothing but the sense of suspense and dread in the air.

And then, from out of the shadows of the corridor came a figure. A person of smaller stature. She wore a pair of grey jeans, a leather jacket, and had both a dark blue mask and a black hood draped over her head. And the only attribute of this person's face that remained visible to them all was the clear blue eyes that could be seen through the holes of her mask.

At first, all of the men thought it was a joke. A sick prank. None of them believed, for a second, that this was what they were afraid of. What they had been prepping their weapons for. What they were all dreading without thinking straight. A small person in a poorly-made Halloween costume.

But what took them all of guard was that the person didn't stop walking directly towards them. The sight of their guns didn't scare whoever the person coming at them was. If anything, the look on her face said she was even more determined.

The leader had seen enough, and made up his mind. "Fire." He commanded. And just like that, all of the men clicked the triggers on their weapons, and shot on sight.

Bullets flew into the air, and directly at Beca. One by one, every bullet landed on her chest and abdomen. She couldn't be killed by a single one of them. And yet, that was both a blessing and a curse.

For as much as she still couldn't be killed, she felt the impact of every bullet. Every shot taken hit her, and she couldn't ignore the feeling she felt every time one pierced her skin. It hurt. Not as much as it would a normal person, but the pain was still there. And it was still felt by her.

Eventually, she fell to the ground, flat on her knees, her hands by her sides. She groaned in pain. There was no blood. Only the shock of the bullets. It stung, like a bee or a hornet in the summertime.

"No more. I can't… I can't take anymore."

She thought she could just lie there. Lie there and let herself be taken for dead by the soldiers. Lay until she woke up, and was shot once more, possibly with more firepower than before. For Beca, all hope seemed to be lost, until…

"LET US OUT!"

"PLEASE, HELP US!"

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Voices. The voices of children. The children they had kidnapped. The children that were prisoners, just as she had been. Small, naive, innocent children that were seen as nothing more than guinea pigs for the sick, twisted games of the men in that room.

Her eyes shot wide open. Mustering all the strength she could, Beca slowly got off of the ground. She sprung to her feet, the pain in each groan and breath threatening to take hold of her.

"Come on, Mitchell… come on… remember the kids… remember the fire… remember everything. Make them feel all the pain you've felt."

She gritted her teeth as the bullets that had so harshly forced their way onto her body began to fall right off. One by one, each and every bullet fell to the floor. And with each bullet, the men that fired their weapons voiced their emotions without even saying a word.

All at once, shock, awe, and horror all crossed their faces. "Oh, fuck. She's-" the leader began, only to stop as, right before all of their very eyes, their weapons slowly but surely were ripped from their grip, and disassembled without even being touched. One by one, every assault rifle, everything they had armed themselves with, was completely dismantled.

Beca didn't even need to look under their masks. She already knew that beneath them were the terrified faces of the people she had quickly accepted as enemies.

Then, as they slowly realized what had happened, Beca stood before them, standing taller than she could have ever imagined herself being. And suddenly, she no longer recognized herself.

In that moment, Rebecca Anne Mitchell became something more than who she had pretended to be for the duration of her life. For the person who she made people believe she was would never do what she was about to do.


"She told me to look away. She told me that I didn't have to see what she was going to do. But I didn't listen." Erica explained, as Emily nodded her head intently.

"She hurt the bad people. She did worse things to them than they would've done to us. But the scary thing was that she didn't say anything. The whole time, she just beat them down, and didn't make any noises. She didn't give them a chance to stand up. She just couldn't be stopped." The child continued.

All the while, Emily's eyes widened in horror at the thought of a little girl having to witness what she saw. "The poor kid must've been scared."

Finally, Jessica had heard enough to muster up the confidence to go over and say something. "Sorry, Em. But I want to ask a few questions of my own."

As soon as she said this, Erica looked directly at her, then at Emily, who also looked up at her. Mouthing the word 'please', Jessica saw the looks of desperation on both their faces. And she gave in to her more compassionate side. "Fine. Finish the story to Emily. But I want to hear the rest of it. Tell me what happened after this woman did whatever she did to these bad men."


The only soldier that remained conscious was one with a fractured leg. He crawled on the floor, desperate to escape from the Hell that had been unleashed upon him and his men.

He was just close enough to one of the trucks when his hand was suddenly and abruptly stepped on by the woman he had been brutalized by. He screamed, and looked up at his emotionless attacker in tears. "JESUS…"

Twisting her head slightly, she cruelly hissed, "Oh, I'm sorry. I should've aimed for the spot that hurts most."

The mook knew there was no use pleading, for she had quickly applied pressure to his left leg. He screamed in pain, tears fully flowing down his face.

"Now… the other children. Where are they?" The attacker asked in a low growl. It sounded non-human. He tried lying. "I… I don't know…" He soon came to realize it was a bad choice, as she placed her second foot on his leg, urging a screech of pain.

"OKAY! Okay… they're in here. There's a room… a room in the back! But you can't get in-", He started, only for her to step off his leg, and grab him by the shoulders, slamming him into the truck door.

"How do I get in?" She coldly asked, as he howled with pain. "I swear to God, I don't know! Please, stop hurting me! Please... I was just doing my job..." He pleaded.

Even she couldn't bare to see this pathetic louse writhe and screech in pain. She delivered a kick to his face, one that knocked him out instantly. As he lay in pain, Beca ran to the back of the big room, past rows and rows of chemicals, until she reached a sealed shut metal door.

She pressed her ear to the door. Inside, she heard the frightened, heavy breathing of five children. She found her own breathing slowly getting heavier and heavier. The more they screamed for help, or for their parents, the angrier she became.

It wasn't until she felt her right hand touch something that didn't match the texture of the rest of the wall. Removing her ear, and turning to face the wall, Beca felt around until her pointer finger touched something round and small. She pressed it.

And automatically, a door opened. And inside was a room. A small room. It was a nightmare for claustrophobics. Tiny, enclosed, and almost completely devoid of color except for the white tiles on the wall.

Beca could only stare at the children, as they stared at her in response. She gulped, her breath becoming heavy once more as they looked at her with horror in their eyes.

It wasn't like they didn't have a reason to. Blood covered her clothing. The blood of the men that had taken them, and planned to torture them.

In all of their eyes, Beca saw only terror and confusion. She was at a complete loss for words, until Erica came in behind her, and stood directly next to her legs. She looked down at her, and looked back at the other five children.

"I know you're all scared. I know you guys are thinking about why you were taken, or why I have blood on me, or why I'm here at all. And all I can say is that these men were bad people. They took you for their own gain, not because of something you did, or something you didn't do. I know because I've seen this happen before. And I want you all to know that the blood on me is the blood of those men. I hurt those men so that they would think of what I did to them the next time they considered taking anyone else. And I want you all to know that from now on, no matter what happens, you'll all be safe. I promise."


Erica tiredly sighed, her head light and her entire body exhausted. "That's all I have to say."

Having heard everything she needed to know, Emily took a slight sigh of relief. Like Erica, she too was exhausted. Her head was spinning from what she had just forced herself to hear every minute of. And all she wanted to do was take a breather.

"Okay… thank you, sweetie. I'll let you talk to Ms. Smith now, okay?" Emily nicely said, as the child nodded her head in understanding. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to Benji, and could do nothing but stare at him in silence.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I know that was hard to hear, and I just want to make sure you're okay." Benji sadly said, earning him a sad chuckle from the freshman.

She crossed her arms, before saying, "Benji, you remember how I told Ross about some kind of vigilante saving Stacie?" The curly haired boy nodded his head. "Yeah, I remember. Why? Do you think that the person who saved these kids is the same person?"

Emily nodded her head. "I think it is. I mean, Stacie mentioned something about her not even having to touch most of the guys she took out. The little girl even said something about her being shot at by several armed guys with guns. Nobody survives that. And nobody just walks away from that without even a single drop of blood. The same with how nobody does the same thing when they're stabbed in the shoulder."

The more Emily talked, the more Benji's eyes widened, and the more he began to truly consider just how much things were possibly beginning to add up.

"This is freaky. This is every shade of freaky. I mean, Jesus, somebody with superpowers? In Atlanta? There've been rumors, but nothing concrete." Benji nervously said, as Emily nodded in agreement.

Then, after standing up and walking away from the children so that they could be inspected by the police, Jessica walked over to her partners, looking paler than a sheet. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"

Benji and Emily simultaneously shook their heads, with only Benji responding. "Well, unless you think that the person who rescued Stacie is the same person who rescued these kids, then we'd be thinking what you're thinking."

The blonde nodded her head. "That, and I think that… I think that the Chicago Vigilante is back."

Benji looked taken by surprise, while Emily remained confused. "Wait, who?" She asked, before Jessica quickly responded. "Back in 2010 and 2011, there were rumors. Rumors about someone with superpowers, a lot of them sounding really similar to what the people we've talked to have told us about, and only now she's making a return? I have so many questions, but the first that come to mind are these: one, why is this person only returning now? And two, who is she?"


A lone figure stood atop Baker Hall, observing Barden University from as high a vantage point that she could find. Her eyes were closed, so as to allow for a better means of truly using her added sense. All around her, she heard only what her senses allowed for her to her, and as far as they could stretch out across the world.

She heard Mothers and Fathers reading bedtime stories to their children, people arguing, the cries of small children, dishes being washed, diner employees singing to themselves, and sirens in the distance.

Looking down at herself, at all the bulletholes in her clothes, the blood on her shirt and pants, before finally staring off into the distance, she spoke to herself in a hushed whisper, "My work will never be done. Just the way I'm used to."

Author's Note: I am so sorry that this got delayed. I didn't mean for this to happen, as I merely became caught up with other aspects of my life, namely getting a job, applying for colleges, and dealing with school, and it didn't help that I got stuck at several points writing other stories. But a combination of reevaluating myself as a writer and deciding that it was time to start balancing things out more gave me the courage to want to continue this! For all of you still interested in reading this one, I hope you're ready for a wild ride!

ZRyder, you're more than welcome for the shoutout, because you're awesome! Also, to becamitchellbeale345, this might be a long walk through Hell, especially considering what I have planned, but don't worry, the pace will pick up!

The next chapter is going to see the Bellas actually begin to face adversity with their own problems, as Beca's secret life and normal life begin to collide, and Jessica and Emily continue to investigate our little superhero! I'm so excited to see you guys read it just as much as I am excited to write it!

Anyhow, that's all for today, or so I think! I'll see you all next time! Until then, I'm the Flying Hawaiian 001, signing off!

P.S, the biggest influences on this story are the Netflix Daredevil show, my favorite superhero show, Spider-Man PS4, which I haven't stopped playing since September, and Unbreakable, one of my all-time favorite movies.