"How did you get out!?"
The man was loud and angry as he made his demand. His voice was rough, and he spoke with an Eastern European language and a strong accent.
It was a dark, warm night in London. But the sea breeze brought with it a chill towards the freight ship as it finished docking, ready to unload its cargo.
The man was dressed warmly. He was in his mid-forties and he was sweating a little, as the air was humid.
He watched the girl with his cold dark eye as he drew his black handgun and aimed it at her chest in caution. She looked no older than fifteen. Sixteen at a stretch.
However, the girl looked unconcerned. She looked bored. She wore a breezy crimson coloured summer dress. Her breasts were full yet not that big, and pushed up by her crimson bra hidden in her dress, and her legs were long and pale, creamy and smooth. Her arms looked deceptively thin but there was muscle under the surface.
The girls dress hugged her delightfully athletic body, curving into her beautiful shape with thin spaghetti straps over her slight shoulders. The dress breezed back in the cool warm air hanging a little higher than mid-thigh.
The strange girl watched the large and tall man. He was wide and looked strong enough to handle himself in a fist fight. Though, this strange girl only stared at him with cool emerald coloured eyes. Eyes that clashed and accentuated her pretty face at the same time as they seemed to have an eerie glow. She wore no makeup, but her lips sparkled bright red and she didn't need anything more.
Her hair was short, and the colour matched her dress, like the colour of blood, very short at the back, but hanging long over her ears, and longer on top in downward curved spikes that appeared to hold no product to carve that effect – like it was natural. It was like her hair existed to defy all and any expectations.
The red-heads crimson dress breezes back, flowing behind her in the cool winds from the sea. She was short, bare foot and empty-handed, but she gave off an aura the man couldn't understand.
She scared him somehow, some-way – with just that cool look. Calculating. Dangerous. Terrifying.
Like everyone died. And that made her queen of everything.
"You are in my city." The girl suddenly spoke, crisp and nonchalant with a perfect accent like his own, speaking his language with a fluent ease and perfection – like those words of his language belonged to her and her alone and everyone else only borrowed them.
The large, strong man took an involuntary step backward. He didn't know why, but he shivered looking at those cool unconcerned eyes. Eyes as solid – as cold as jades – and just as unconcerned with him.
Eyes without fear.
His existence meant nothing to those cool eyes.
He shuddered as he let his eyes dart from her for less than a moment. Looking around deck. They were alone. He turned back to her and stuttered back as she had closed the distance by half, and looked as if she hadn't realised, she had moved.
It made him afraid. Further. He couldn't blink. If he did. He felt it. He would die. Just one blink. She would be too close.
The man had been patrolling in amongst large metal containers. They were set out like a maze. He hated himself as he thought about running and hiding. He knew the layout of the ship. She didn't. Did she?
But then. How did she get on the ship? How did she progress so far? Who...? What was she?
"Return them to me." The girl spoke again. Nonchalant. Her voice soft and pleasant to the ear, captivating. Like a siren. But for her words send a cold dread down his spine. "Return them to me now," she repeated after a moment, "and I shall not destroy you."
The man gritted his teeth. He had to get angry. Who was this creepy girl? She spoke his languish perfectly, but he could tell. She wasn't ever cargo. They had been warned to stay out of London. They hadn't listened. The warnings had fallen on deaf ears.
Was she why? Was she why so many feared this city? Was she a daemon come to devour their souls for all they had done?
No! He couldn't believe such nonsense. She was just a pathetic weak little girl. She was nuts. She would join the cargo.
"W-who are you, bitch?" he demanded as commandingly as he could while she continued to stare at him unblinkingly.
If she was such a pathetic weak little girl. Why did he stutter? Why was he shaking? Why was he so close to losing control of his bladder?
The strange girl wasn't even very tall. She was just under average height for a girl her age. She was just a weak kid. A girl. So why did he feel that dread while staring into those jewel eyes? Why did he feel his knees buckle? Why did he feel such a strong urge to drop to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, beg for his life?
"This is my city," she replied coolly; not giving him any kind of answer. She didn't have to answerer to him. She was in control, and he didn't know how he knew that. "You are in my city," she added with a hint of aggression this time. "You are within MY domain!" she hissed a little here, showing the first hint of anger, and he jumped back slightly, shivering as her voice might as well of had physical substance. "You will return them. If you choose not to. Then you and every other thief on this boat shall die."
The man staggered back further and bumped into a huge red container. It clung loudly and startled him. His gun went off in a ringing bang. He could only stare at the girl as she stood in the line of his fire. He had forgotten he even had a gun, let alone that he drew it.
The large sailor prayed in that mere moment for the girl to die. He begged the bullet to cut her down. But his prayer went unanswered. He shit himself as she moved like flickering images from a horror film; the world almost slowing down as if to prolong his terror.
The girl in the crimson dress swept her left hand, and it flickered with a trail of after-images with a back handed swipe.
There was a flash of golden sparks on the back of the girls' hand with a fizzled sound before the man heard the ping of his bullet hitting metal. The man's eyes frantic with horror followed the path of the bullet as the girl stopped, half-closer again.
There was a small burn mark on the crate beside the mysterious girl where the bullet disintegrated as it hit the steal.
The man looked back to the girl, shivering uncontrollably. She had a huge grin on her lips, showing off her perfect white teeth. Piss was dribbling down his trouser leg while he shook, unable to steady his gun as he kept it aimed at the girl. He wouldn't be able to lower his trebling arms even if he wanted to.
"I don't give second chances often." The girl spoke coldly this time.
"However, I am a forgiving person," she continued innocently sweet. "Shooting at me was obviously an accident. A silly mistake on your part I might add. I'll let that slide. So here is my offer, Mister."
The girl in crimson took two small steps closer, but he had nowhere to run. The man's back way pressed firmly to a container. His small mind could barely process that he had ran clean out of luck. This wasn't the law. This wasn't some hero-wannabee. This was a monster in the guise of a little girl.
"Return what does not belong to you or your people," she continued in a breezy sense. She seemed unconcerned. "And let the authorities have you. Confess to all your crimes. And go to jail for the rest of your lives. Or die here and now? I won't ask again."
The man knew she didn't care what he chose. But he couldn't think straight. Fear could do that. And in his fear and horror, he was barely listening to her anyway. He pulled the trigger of his gun. He fired and fired, emptying his gun while screaming and squeezing his eyes tight. He continued pulling the trigger even after his gun was empty, clicking uselessly.
It took him a moment to brave opening his eyes. Tears ran freely when he saw her. The girl was still where she was. She hadn't moved an inch this time. She had a cruel smirk lining her pretty lips. She was unharmed.
She was a Devil of Vengeance.
Each bullet he had fired. They were held. Paused before her like something from that Sci-fi movie he loved when he was younger. The red-haired girls' emerald eyes were alight with a golden energy. The bullets were still spinning furiously. They hadn't lost any energy or momentum. But they just hung before her like obedient little pets awaiting a command – a thought – to do her biding.
"Filth like you never learn." The girl spoke coldly. "I am Shado Umbra. And this is my city!"
The man only had a moment as the bullets turned to face him. But that moment wasn't enough to think straight. It wasn't enough for his life to flash before his eyes. It wasn't enough to scream.
It took a moment for it to be over.
He was dead before he hit the ground. Riddled with his own bullets. Blood pooled around his body, smearing down the container as he fell back on it and slowly slid down with lifeless eyes staring at his executioner. His eyes void of life or thought.
The end of life was too easy.
"What the…?"
Shado turned coolly to her left as three men charged towards her between a passage of containers. They each carried machine riffles and readied to aim while Shado only smiled in amusement.
"This is too easy," Shado said.
Shado rose her left hand lazily with two closed pointer fingers she swiped them to the left as if flicking over the page on a Kindle. Metal bent and moaned, but it took only a moment. The men didn't have a chance to realise they were dead as one rusty yellow container slid closed with a red one, chains snapping, freeing the container as it sat alone with none on top, splattering all three men between them, blood leaked through the gaps over the deck.
"Why do they never listen to their survival instincts?" Shado asked herself in mock sadness. "It would be so much easier for me – and less bloody for them. This is England. The prison system may be – somewhat uncouth. But it's better than so many others around the world. And wouldn't they prefer that to death? Silly bandits and cowards – think they're big men. Well. Time to send them to Hades or Hel – or whatever terrifying afterlife may want them."
Shado giggled in glee as she pushed out her right hand towards the containers. The sound of metal on metal screeched throughout the night as the containers blast up and towards the bridge of the boat in a hurricane of energy, roaring and rolling across the ship tearing and shattering the deck and other containers, shredding metal and shattering glass before crashing through the ships stack with bridge as fire poured up and blew out.
Explosions rippled through the night as Shado's eyes were alight with mystical energies. The metal of the deck tore and split as Shado pulled her arms up as she lifted from the deck in a storm of strength. And then three dirty and rust covered white containers tore through the deck floating above the ship, just below where she drifted higher with them into the air over the harbour.
Shado could hear screaming from the men on the ship and paid them no heed, as she couldn't care less out people-thieves – in other words people smugglers who would charge people and then enslave them for – terrible reasons, but this was her city, and illegal aliens or not; they had her protection until the proper authorities could deal with them.
She could hear the cries from within the containers she had claimed from within the boat, and hoped that none of them were dead, especially the younger ones whose parents thought this was a smart move to trust people like this. Shado moved from the ship as the storm of power subsided and a few heavy containers fell, crashing down on the ship as it split into more than two huge of slowly sinking pieces and flames lit the night as the ships bridge and engines were ablaze of shattered and twisted metals.
Shado wasn't one to care about any of the 'Hide Magical Stuff' laws. Most people didn't seem to care much anyway. And Shado was sure there weren't many who would go out of their way to fight her over it. Shado wasn't known for being lenient on arseholes who called her out for a fight. And she knew she was strong enough that most would leave her alone as she wasn't technically a criminal – and things like this got covered up all the time – maybe it was a mystical mumbo-jumbo thing that protected people from the truth, or perhaps it was wizards or mage who hated having to clean up her messes but let her continue unopposed as she went around putting down bastards.
Though, Shado was never sure whether any of the authorities even knew she existed, but if they didn't then that was straight up weird. The authorities Shado knew about seemed to have heads up their own arseholes, so likely didn't notice what didn't concern them directly. Therefore, since her deeds were semi-covered up somehow; they didn't care, as long as the 'mortals' were more or less ignorant.
Shado could hear sirens in the distance as emergency services raced to the scene. But Shado didn't pay that any attention as she flew away with her newly acquired containers while the ship was bubbling in the water, the current from the ship pulling under sailors that thought they were lucky enough to jump overboard.
Shado's containers touched down, thumping to the concrete ground of the dock beside the sinking ship. Workers and security watched in shock as Shado landed her bare feet on top of the front container.
Smirking, Shado made a gesture and the chained container doors tore open to reveal people inside, young boys, small girls, and women, huddled together, filthy and wearing rags, nearly filling the three containers, and looking out at the fearful dockworkers.
However, when the men and women looked up, back towards the girl.
She was gone.
Shado watched coolly from a distance as the police, firefighters, and paramedics started arriving with border guards and the Coast Guard by ship and land, saving and arresting the odd surviving sailor. The paramedics were helping the timid people from the containers with border agents and police while the firefighters assisted the Coast Guard.
Then finally, police detectives and investigators were taking statements from dockworkers and security. Listening. They knew about Shado. They had seen her handy work before. If she was real. They weren't sure they wanted to find out. But how she could have done all of this. They may never find out, and none of the chose to write magic or super powers, no matter what this Shado did, none of them wanted to say either of those things no matter that they may briefly think them.
Meanwhile Shado turned from her entertainment while stretching the kinks from her muscles and yawning cutely.
"Now that's what I call a birthday party," Shado said to herself with an amused smile.
That was the only thing she really knew about herself. Her birthday. She used to hate her birthday. But now her birthday was a day that any and every bully in London should fear. Especially those scum that steal from her in her city.
July Thirty-first.
The day Shado loved to stretch her legs and do something spectacular.
She even bought a new dress for the occasion.
Shado laughed as she flickered away to reappear in a huge open plan apartment. It only had one room leading from the main area which had a kitchen leading on to the living area with sliding doors to her bedroom where she had a huge wet room and toilet through a partition.
She had huge tinted one-way windows looking out over the lights of her city. Shado had a dining table and chairs. Not that she ever had company. She had comfortable couch that curved round under the side window that looked out over the Themes and London Bridge, opposite her huge OLED 4K curved TV.
She liked her apartment. It was airy and open plan. In was a nice neighbourhood. It was comfortable, and just the way she liked it.
Shado smiled as she flopped down onto her couch as she had some video game cases from several different systems lying around haphazardly with a few old pizza boxes she needed to clean up.
However, with click of Shado's fingers the pizza boxes dissolved away into nothing. Shado figured that would do. She would sort her games out another time as that was much too intricate for her to do with her powers, and she hadn't really practiced things like that, and she didn't want to ruin her stuff trying. That meant she would have to tidy them by hand.
"Well that was a sweet sixteen." Shado chuckled.
Her accent had changed back. It was proper English and cool, and she was no longer speaking another language. She learnt every language she had the privilege of hearing, and enjoyed adding the accent (it came easy to her) as it made her easier to understand when speaking to a native of that language.
Smiling, Shado shrugged that off as she grabbed the nearest game controller from her coffee table. The table needed a wipe, and for her to get rid of some of those old newspapers, but they had her in the headline so she wasn't quite ready to melt them. It also held her gaming laptop open to an article about her burning down several warehouses used to make some illegal drugs a few days back.
It was funny how the press could take pictures of something out of the norm. Supernatural. And just ignore that and come up with some explanation that was sometimes more far-fetched than the truth.
Shado was about to press the connection button on her controller to start the system and continue her game when she was startled by an odd feeling. Her senses were alert and her curiosity was piqued, but the sense of magic, not too far away, and not shielded by any wards.
Shado placed her controller down as she frowned. That was strange. Shado moved to the window, kneeling on her couch. Shado looked out into the darkness. Lit by the lights of London and the mild lighting of her apartment Shado could see a slight ghost-reflection of herself.
However, that wasn't what startled or gained her attention. She frowned. Shado let those bastards pass through her city whenever they liked. And she left their strange little shite holes alone – for the most part. The least they could do was not cause trouble where she could sense it. They weren't even that far away.
"It looks like I'll have to continue my game later," Shado said thoughtfully. "Maybe the amusing little stick-wavers will actually give me a fun fight. A very sweet sixteen this is turning out to be."
Shado smiled as she sat and pulled on her black half-boots, and fastened them to her feet.
"Now I hope this will be a better test of my power," Shado said to herself as she stood and stretched with a wicked grin on her lips before she flickered away with a distortion of the space around her.