A/N: Hello, fanfics, and I am back with another chapter, which I had finished and kept under wraps until it was time. Now, sit back and enjoy.
Disclaimer: Repeat after me: I do not own Killer Instinct, nor Carrie.
New York City was a vast labyrinth of twisting streets packed with honking cars. Traffic lights flashed in a dizzying pattern but were useless against the gridlock. A dense fog coalesced, with dazzling lights and towers reaching the sky. One building reigned supreme as it flashed "Ultratech" in bright neon through the night.
The CEO sat alone in her office, musing. Her feminine frame comprised gold and light grey shades of metal. Strips of alloy weaved in dreadlocks, extending from the back of her head. Her clawed hands intertwined as they rested against her chin.
The door opened as a fiery humanoid appeared. Its lava-based plasma covered its body with volcanic rocks. Ribbons of fire swirled around the creature like solar flares from the sun.
"I don't recall giving you permission to enter, Cinder." The CEO's voice was mechanical and grating. Despite the featureless mask concealing his face, she sensed Cinder sneering at her. With a dismissive scoff, Cinder approached a nearby computer terminal.
"Have you seen the news, ARIA?" Cinder's voice sounded like a furnace or one speaking through a vent.
"Be more specific."
"There is a story on a school massacre in Chamberlain, Maine." Cinder typed into a keyboard. "It states that a student was moving objects and killing people using her mind."
ARIA perked from the news. "Play footage of this event."
"Already on it."
Cinder pressed the last key, and a TV monitor lowered from the ceiling. The screen switched on, showing a reporter standing in front of a burned school. Yellow tape surrounded the area as detectives scoured for evidence.
"Three weeks have passed since the incident called 'Black Prom' took place," the newsperson said. "Police have found a camera from the gym's remains where it happened on June 22, 2013. This footage may be disturbing. Viewer discretion is advised."
The video aired a youthful woman with red highlights upon her blonde hair. Her bluish-grey eyes lit as she smiled, and her pink dress hugged her body.
A blonde-haired boy was next to the woman on stage when a pool of blood dowsed them. Although some spilled on the boy, his date received the full brunt.
"It was a prank gone wrong," an over-dramatic voice said. "16-year-old Carrie White became the victim of a vicious trick." Laughter surged from the speakers until a container fell and struck the boy. "Her date, Tommy Ross, is a suspect in the stunt. According to autopsy reports, the bucket was the supposed cause of death."
Cinder scratched his head. "I don't understand. How can a pail kill someone? I mean, really?" He snorted crassly. "Talk about a stupid way to die."
"What happens next is stunning," the speaker resumed as Carrie faced the audience. As she lifted her arms, drops of blood floated from her skin, ceasing the laughter. Once she screamed, the crowd flew in all directions, pushed by an invisible force. "Carrie locked the Prom-goers inside the gym to attack her tormentors." The screen pointed at Carrie, who threw a table, ending the video.
"Okay, that deserves an Academy Award for 'Scariest Shit,'" Cinder said.
"Call the units to my office," ARIA said. "I have a mission for them. Ms. Grady will take charge."
"Are you sure? I've seen those X-Men movies, and don't get me started on Chronicle."
"Telekinesis has been a mystery for millennia." ARIA crossed her hands, leaning back in her seat. "I yearn for the secrets it possesses."
Rain poured from the sky as Chamberlain began the slow progress to recovery. The damage was extensive, from cracked roads to scorched buildings. Two steel-clad trucks drove into the town, marked with the Ultratech logo. They first stopped at Carlin Street, where the ruins of Carrie's house lingered.
Heavily armed soldiers emerged from the vehicles, drawing attention. They taped off the area and waved off any curious civilians. The men in white HAZMAT suits and combat androids appeared next, bringing strange tools. One soldier cleared his throat while the scientists took readings with a Geiger counter.
"Ma'am," he spoke, distorted by the gas mask. "A police officer is asking questions about our activities. She wants us to leave."
"I'll handle this." Following the soldier, the scientist found the officers by the vehicle. One wore a yellow hooded poncho while the other sported a black parka. The scientist removed her mask and hood, revealing dark glasses and a grey Classic Bob.
The officer in the yellow poncho crossed her arms. "Are you the person in charge?"
"Yes. I am Professor Grady." The scientist shook hands with her. "Is there a problem?"
The officer shook back. "Officer King, and yes, there's a problem. That is a restricted plot. What are you doing here?"
"We are with the Department of Health and Safety. We're surveying the places affected by Black Prom." Grady unzipped her suit, taking out her wallet along with some papers. She handed them to the police officer. "Here is my ID and our court order and permit."
Officer King inspected the paperwork as her lips pressed into a line. "What's with the soldiers?"
"I'm afraid that is classified information."
"Hm." Officer King stepped into her vehicle. Grady waited while the officer checked the documents. A few minutes later, King emerged from her car and approached the scientist. "Alright, everything looks to be in order." She handed the documents to Grady. "However, I doubt you'll find anything here. You should try Town Hall to find something for your research. Have a pleasant day."
The police officers returned to King's vehicle and continued their patrol.
"Carol, you will not believe this!" a colleague called out, drawing Grady's attention. The man held a device. "I just finished measuring the readings for psionic waves. It is off the charts!"
"What does this mean?" the soldier beside her asked.
Grady flattened her lips as she put her hood and mask back on. "It means we may not be dealing with a run-of-the-mill telekinetic. Continue as planned, captain. Prepare your unit to move out soon. Town Hall will be our next stop."
The captain saluted, then shouted orders to the troops. The analysts collected their evidence and cleaned the area. They hopped inside the trucks and left, unaware of a figure spying from the shadows.
Hours into the drive, the hidden cameras on the vans recorded the wreckage. Inside, the researchers spoke amongst each other.
"Man, the sheer damage. It's like a tornado passed through here," one remarked. "A single girl did all this?"
Another jotted down notes to a clipboard. "So it seems."
The speaker, a young man with brown hair, shook his head. "How does ARIA expect us to contain this? We're struggling enough to keep the other freaks in check. Hell, we're still recovering from that 'Hisako' incident!"
Grady removed her HAZMAT suit. "We'll manage somehow."
As they arrived at a corner, reporters lingered by the entrance like vultures. Law enforcement was also present to preserve order.
After ordering her team to keep a low profile, Grady departed. She adjusted her navy blazer, white blouse, and khaki pants as the vans left.
Grady passed through a sea of reporters and approached a police officer. She showed the officer her ID and allowed him to search her. Contented, the officer granted her access to the building.
Grady strolled inside with a purpose, ignoring the surrounding journalists. As she followed several people into a large room, she sat on a chair. She jotted down notes once the committee began and listened to each speaker.
"Ms. Snell, you understand that you're making these shocking claims."
"I'm aware, Mr. Chairman."
"Isn't it possible that what you saw was a natural act?"
From the back, Grady eyed the timid form of Sue Snell. The girl's tired eyes glimmered as if she hadn't received a good night's sleep.
"My boyfriend and my friends died that night!" Sue spoke into the microphone. "I know what I saw! How long she had those abilities, I don't know. All I know is that Carrie… wasn't a monster. She was a scared young girl with no friends.
"That night, though, she reached her limit, resulting in that… power coming out. I don't blame her for what happened, nor do I hate her. I blame myself for not standing up for her sooner. If I had acted sooner… none of this would've happened."
With the committee finished, Grady stepped outside the room. While reviewing her notes, she spotted Sue on a bench. After checking to ensure no one was around, she approached the young woman. "That was a striking statement, Ms. Snell."
Sue narrowed her eyes toward the woman.
"My name is Professor Carol Grady. I'm with the Department of Health and Safety." She opened her wallet, showing the teenager her ID.
Convinced of its contents, Sue relaxed, though her lips remained down. "The committee is a joke." Her voice had bitterness as she scoffed. "They even had the gall to imply I was crazy! Wretched bastards, all of them."
"Your piece impressed me." Grady inclined her head in a single, solemn nod. "My deepest sympathies for your loss."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Grady cleared her throat. "Ms. Snell, I understand that you have been through a lot in these past couple of days. However, when you have time available, can you come in to speak with me?"
"Why? I reported everything to the police."
"It's to clarify some things." Grady took out a card and held it out in offering. "If you have any information about Carrie White, here's my card. We'll be in touch."
Sue grabbed the business card, examining its contents. "Ultratech?" The woman vanished as she lifted her head, leaving her with a business card. Sue slipped the card into her pocket and headed for the exit. She pushed past news anchors as they pounced on those emerging from the building.
Once she was out, she inhaled, enjoying the fresh air. Overhead, a rumble spread through the clouds. Shivering, she adjusted the black wool beanie wrapped around her head. A midnight blue jacket concealed her black blouse, matching her dark gray slacks. Sue raised her sable umbrella to stay dry as the rain poured for round two.
Sue first stopped by a local floral shop, buying two red roses and one white rose. Later, she strolled through the near-empty town until she reached Memorial Park. Sue walked past the graves of her fallen friends, her eyes lingering on them.
When she paused at one headstone with the name of "Christina C. Hargensen," Sue's hands tightened on the umbrella handle.
I hope you burn in Hell for what you've done, bitch. You, your boyfriend and your friends.
Sue resumed her stroll until she found a lonely mound. Even in death, Carrie was kept separate from the rest. Sue gasped at the angry red words scrawled across the tombstone as she walked closer.
"CARRIE WHITE BURNS IN HELL."
Sue placed her hand over her mouth as heat flushed around her face and neck. She fought back the tears threatening to leave her eyes. As she placed the white rose beside the grave, a voice with a French accent reached her ears.
"It's a shame, no?"
Sue glanced over her shoulder as a man approached her, his form tall and wiry. Rain pattered his flaxen hair, with droplets falling from the tips. His navy raincoat hid a blue shirt, accented with beige suede jeans and matching shoes. In his hands was a bouquet of chrysanthemums, shaped in a wreath. He stared at the headstone, shaking his head.
"How could someone be so cruel to defile the dead? The lack of respect in humanity never ceases to amaze me."
"Do I know you?" Sue asked with narrowed eyes.
"No, I'm here to pay my respects, miss. You were at the Town Hall, no? You were giving testimony on the stand."
Oh, fuck. "If you're another reporter, I'm not interested in saying anything—"
The man raised his hands in protest. "I'm not a reporter, I swear!"
"A police officer? Who are you?"
"Just a tourist passing through."
"So you thought this would be the perfect photo opportunity for your scrapbook? Are you one of those freaks that take selfies at haunted places or whatever?"
"No!"
"Leave before I call the police!"
"No, mademoiselle, you misunderstand me! I'm no thrill-seeker, I swear! Everyone's been talking about the Black Prom incident and, well…."
"What?"
"I only want to pay my respects to the victims. That's all. I swear on my mother's grave."
Sue's eyes lingered on him until she shifted her attention to Carrie's headstone. They stared side-by-side, neither of them saying anything, nor did they move. A few minutes later, her eyes and shoulders drooped. "I… I should've done more to help Carrie. This is Chris's fault. Because of her, Carrie's dead…." She licked her dry lips, her eyes tearing up. "…and my kid will grow up without a dad."
"You have a child?" the man asked.
Sue nodded. "I'm expecting."
"Congratulations." The man studied her. "You don't show signs of one expecting, though."
Tears threatened to spill as her face scrunched up. "Carrie had-had confirmed it when I came to her house after… oh, Christ!" Sue fell to her knees. She covered her face with her hands, her body wracked and shaking with deep sobs.
The man patted her shoulder, comforting her. "Don't blame yourself, mon chéri. A part of your beloved will live through your child. He'll always be with you. You're also doing something kind for Carrie. Such people use the time to show their capacity for kindness. The world could use more of that."
Sue wiped her eyes, sniffling. "Th-thank you, Mister…?"
"Jean. My name is Jean."
"Thank you, Jean. I'm sorry for breaking down like that."
"Don't be, mon chéri. It's fine to cry."
As they shifted their attention to the headstone, they stared down, paying their respects.
"Well, I should go." Sue adjusted her coat and raised her umbrella. "It was nice to meet you."
"Same to you. I'm sorry for your loss."
Sue nodded and headed to the entrance of the graveyard.
Once she was gone, Jean shifted back to the gravestone. He closed his eyes and exhaled. What a shame. He took out his cellphone and snapped a photo of the headstone. Before sending it, he typewrote in, "Orchid, I found Carrie's gravesite. You won't like it."
After sending the image, he set the garland beside the headstone. Jean lowered his head to pay his final respects before taking his leave.
A/N: Uh-oh, it looks like Ultratech is stirring trouble, and the search for Carrie is on. Time to let my brain rest, so I'll see you later.
