Chapter 1.4
Monday, April 4th 2011
Winslow. Fuck, was I really going back after the weekend I just had? It felt hollow, returning to my personal hell, but straight-up just skipping school? All that would have accomplished was admitting defeat at the hands of the bitches that were — in a way — responsible for my newfound status as the latest Butcher.
"How the fuck haven't you gone full Carrie on this shithole? Your power was practically built to do it!" Ironsides grumbled.
"Hell, what they did to Annette's flute was damn near trigger worthy. She loved that thing," Fester added.
"I swear, these bitches would fit in perfectly with our younger members. Think they offer tutoring on how to break a person?" Sabertooth said.
I wanted to protest that but Marauder cut in with something that chilled me to the bone. "Real talk, were any of our trigger events as disgusting as XV's?"
I expected that to kick off an argument, but after a few moments of muted mutterings there were no objections offered to his observation. It felt like the temperature plummeted as I scoured their memories in search of something I could use to prove them wrong, but my searching only reinforced what he said.
It wasn't as though their triggers were pleasant things — far from it actually — but mine? The revelation sent shivers through my body, the feeling not helped by the creep lingering silence in my head.
What? I figured at least one of you assholes would be mocking me over this.
It was Ironsides that answered my question. "Kid, you don't give capes shit for their triggers. Consider it one of those unspoken rules: you just don't do it unless you're willing to risk death. Trigger trauma is a very real thing and we can all relate."
As the weight of his words settled upon me, I made my way inside the school. A sea of red and grey greeted me.
"Damn, our boys and girls are out in force today!" Sabertooth boasted.
There certainly were more red jackets and hoodies paired with grey shirts or pants than I usually saw in the halls, which was saying something. When they had returned to the Bay last summer, the Teeth had blazed their characteristic path of devastation straight through the Merchants, torching them out of the cracks between the bigger gangs before taking the fight to the Empire and ABB directly. Their next move was to seize a bunch of territory in and around the Docks, mostly using it as a staging ground to raid everything nearby.
Neither Lung nor Kaiser had made much headway in attempts to uproot the newcomers, a task made considerably harder due to the fact that there were plenty of people willing to associate with a gang whose main activity was killing Nazis and sex slavers. By the time school started in the fall, red and grey were very much an 'in' style at Winslow. Even the speed bump when Quarrel took over in September had only helped recruitment at school.
"You should introduce yourself," Alkaline said with a snicker.
Fester did a shockingly accurate imitation of my own voice. "Hey everyone, I'm Weaver, you follow me now!"
"You've perused her memories of this rotting dungheap. Nobody would believe her in the slightest," Damascian said.
"Just cover everyone in bees! You can do it!" Knockout said, apparently quoting an Aleph movie.
I'm not joining the Teeth, so save your breath.
"What breath? You took mine away," Quarrel spat.
"I suppose she did. Smitten with our newest queen are you?" Fester teased.
I slammed both of them into the darkness before they could even begin that trainwreck of an argument. Thankfully, the rest of the chorus took the hint and settled down, but their commentary was replaced by a profound sense of unease. People in the halls were staring at me in confusion, instead of mockery, but I was just as confused as they seemed to be.
Stratego hummed to himself, a bass rumble in my mind, before snapping his metaphorical fingers. "Your posture is straighter and you're walking with confidence. If your goal is to remain undetected, you will need to adjust your gait."
He brought up a few of my memories from Friday morning, drawing attention to my hunched shoulders, slumped posture, and my shuffling stride. All of my new instincts were screaming that such a person was weak, a target, prey, and that it couldn't possibly be me. I was supposed to be the biggest and baddest around, not a wounded animal waiting to be picked off.
The worst part was, I wanted to be able to walk the halls with pride, someone that everyone looked to with respect and admiration. I didn't need my peanut gallery's comments to know that there was one simple action I could take that would give it to me and more.
Unfortunately, it was the one thing I absolutely refused to do.
I was not going to become a villain.
"But it's so fun!" Alkaline whined. "I tried that whole independent thing, it fucking sucked!"
"You are well aware that this is a lesson every cape learns for herself," Damascian said with a touch of sadness. "The heroes will never trust her, and those they can't trust, they will betray."
I'm still going to try.
"The Teeth will be waiting for you when you fail!" Butcher yelled even as I slammed him back into the void.
The rest grumbled as I shuffled down the hallway, but they might finally be learning that I wasn't going to budge on this topic.
Mrs. Knott's class was the same as always, just with added internal commentary. I completed the assignment quickly enough, then settled in for the rest of the period. Thanks to my recently acquired cell phone, I wasn't out of the loop on PHO about Friday's events; in fact, given how little had been made public, I knew considerably more than the 'in the know' crowd.
"I find it mildly suspicious that the PRT is withholding so many details about Lung's demise," Damascian said while I walked to my next class.
"They are hedging their bets. Taylor might not end up like the rest of us and they don't want to poison the well," Stratego replied. "Outing her now would risk driving Weaver back to the Teeth and they know it."
"That or they are thinking of a way to exploit her and remove the Butcher from the board all together," Chisel murmured.
Fourteen sets of metaphorical eyes turned towards me as I took my place in Gladly's classroom. Relax guys, I plan to be a hero, not a martyr.
"I sure fucking hope so," Sanguine said, his usual levity strained.
The now familiar chatter in the back corners of my mind resumed not long after I sat down, though I could tell that they were put off by the PRT's maneuvering. Gladly was droning on just as uselessly, saying something about how capes shape current events. Given how I was now an example of very current events, I found it much more interesting to listen to the Butchers' comments from having lived the stuff that Gladly only pretended to know about.
The discussion was serving as a great distraction, as I shared this class with one of my tormentors and I had to resist the urge to hit her with one of my now numerous options. Madison Clements was sitting just two rows over from me on the back row of the room; I had a single fly resting between her back and the chair, clinging to her cutesy pink top.
There were five minutes left in the class when I felt Madison stand up from her desk. She didn't try anything on her first pass, but I hardly needed Stratego's power to see her plan as she made a beeline for the pencil sharpener. I was almost impressed when she managed to palm a handful of pencil shavings while emptying the container in the trash, and she gave me a sickly sweet grin while starting down my aisle.
"This dumb bitch is gonna be that obvious about it?" Alkaline asked incredulously.
"Just land a wasp on her hand. That'll make her drop them!" Knockout said happily.
I'm not using my offensive bugs for this and you all know why.
"Then pain blast the dumb cunt!" Butcher cried out.
I pushed him back into the void and ran through my options. The Butchers were suggesting everything from flicking a spitball directly into her eye to burning down the school after webbing the doors shut, and I realized that I could modify one of their less awful ideas.
"Clever," Chisel commented as I rushed to put my plan into action.
Winslow's budget cuts for the facilities department were coming in handy while I scuttled one of the numerous roaches in the ceiling through a hole and right above Madison's head. With the aid of the fly on her back, I had the roach fall just as she walked underneath, and I did my damndest to not laugh when it landed on her nose. Madison's eyes crossed as her brain registered the insect now staring right back at her, antenne twitching, and her momentary confusion ended with a piercing scream.
The pencil shavings went airborne and she smacked her own nose, aiming for my partner in mischief as it jumped away to avoid her panicked swipes. As Madison flailed, she tripped over her own foot and fell back, landing solidly on her ass with a thump.
My laughter echoed the chorus as the entire room erupted over little Maddy's mishap. She was cradling the back of her head, having smacked it on the desk behind her in her unfortunate fall. The pencil shavings she had intended for me were now falling like fresh snow all over her as my roach made it safely under one of the shelves along the back of the room.
"Muwaha holy crap, that was amazing!" Alkaline barely got out amidst her laughter.
The rest of the room's enthusiastic agreement with that statement cut out when Gladly finally managed to try to assert control over the situation.
"What's the meaning of this?" He was on his feet and hurrying to check on his little pet, who was now groaning and playing it up. "Are you alright, Madison? What happened?"
With mounting dread, I watched Madison's attention turn back to me. "Taylor tripped me."
"BULLSHIT!" The chorus cried out and devolved into ranting and raving that I couldn't parse.
"Taylor, I must say I'm disappointed in you," Mr. Gladly said as he helped Madison back to her feet; he gave me a conflicted glance. "Madison, please go see the nurse. Taylor, I'll be seeing you after class."
My blood was boiling with a blind fury not entirely my own, and for once I was seriously tempted to give in to the demands of the voices. It took far more effort than I would have liked to push them all back into the dark — their emotions were too in tune with my own right now.
"Mr. Gladly," I forced out through gritted teeth. "How could I have tripped her from this far away?"
He glanced again at Madison, who simply nodded. "Let's just talk about after class," Mr. Gladly said, thankfully unaware of my fingers now digging into the metal of my desk.
"Does it matter what I say? You've clearly made up your mind already."
Madison stopped in the door and was watching me now, but she wasn't my focus. No, Gladly had the full weight of the undivided attention of the collective, as well as my own. His survival instinct must not have been well-developed because all he did was sigh.
"I hate to do this, but I'll be seeing you in detention after school."
A bitter, mirthless laugh escaped my lips. "Detention, sure. For me." I made a show of looking at each and every classmate of mine wearing gang colors, from the girl with short, red hair that was combed over in a punk style and visible scars dressed in Teeth red and grey to the bald kid with a literal E88 emblem sewn into his leather jacket. "No wonder this school is run by the gangs."
As if to punctuate my point, the bell rang. I grabbed my bag and joined the masses as they hurried out of the class. Given the lunch situation at Winslow, I was tempted to head up to the roof for lunch and abuse my teleport to grab something a bit better than brake pad shaped meatloaf. Regardless, I'd have an hour to myself away from these people.
"Nobody likes her. Nobody wants her here." That was Julia.
"Think she spreads her legs for the Teeth?" Another asked.
"Probably the only way she'll get laid now that the ABB is falling apart."
"I sure as hell wouldn't want her."
I stood there for a moment and watched as Emma, Sophia and Madison were all conversing as they usually did, trading petty insults aimed at me with their groupies. It was so old at this point that I barely noticed it. For the Butchers, however, it was something new.
"Could they at least decide if you're a whore or too ugly to get any? Consistency is important when tearing someone down," Alkaline said.
"Their types don't give two shits about that," Fester countered.
"If I were her, I'd kill myself," one of them announced.
At that exact moment, Mr Gladly had stepped out of his classroom, and he clearly heard what they said. He gave me an unreadable look as the girls continued uninterrupted.
"Fuck that coward with a rusty tire iron," Knockout hissed.
"So glad we don't have gym with her. Could you imagine seeing her in the locker room? Gag me with a spoon."
Gladly just shook his head, adjusted the folders in his arms and walked away.
Way to prove my fucking point.
"Since it's clear they ain't doing shit to help —" I pushed Marauder down, knowing full well what sort of thing he would suggest.
"Just kill them already!" Butcher demanded. I shoved him down too.
"You would think they would have learned by now…" Chisel said with a mental shake of her head.
"Just walk away if you aren't going to fight back. It isn't worth it to torture yourself like this," Alkaline added.
She was right of course, I should just walk away.
"Oh Taylor!" Emma said, coming over to me. "Is everything alright? You seem upset."
"Upset you haven't dropped dead," Quarrel spat.
The rest of the Butchers began to offer up their own retorts, some of which I gave serious consideration to saying aloud. It was nice to have backup even if they were literal voices in my head.
"So upset that you're going to cry yourself to sleep for a week straight?"
Any retort I might have planned to use died on my tongue, the words ash in my mouth as even the Butchers fell completely silent in a moment of perfect clarity. Any stray hope I held that Emma might come back, that we might become friends again, I felt it all shatter in that very instant.
"Taylor…" Fester said very carefully. "She's talking about Annette."
She is.
"I see. Would you kindly end her sad excuse of an existence?"
It was an extremely tempting thought. My swarm was taking the brunt of my emotions as I pushed everything away, creating chaos as millions of insects moved in response to my emotions. How dare this bitch twist my love for Mom into a weapon!
There were so many ways I could end her, and the collective was positively eager to suggest things. Brute strength was the easiest option, I could just reach out and snap her in two, or rip her limbs off and watch her bleed out, maybe even beat the other two with them in the process.
I could hold her under Butcher's pain blast until her mind broke. Sanguine showed me several creative things I could do with her blood, even suggesting I make a new flute from it. Every option put forward would be brutal, effective, and more importantly, painful. She deserved it all and more for what she had said.
Mere seconds had passed as she continued to grin at me, watching and waiting for the reaction she wanted. A single shed tear would be enough for her to run with it, so I would give it to her as I narrowed it down to an all too satisfying end that was befitting of the little traitorous bitch.
"Be better than us."
The words were like a splash of ice water on my raging fury, spoken so softly that they should have been lost in the chaos of the chorus. It was a voice I'd only heard once before: Reflex. Butcher III. The only other Butcher that called themselves a hero before the madness claimed them, and I'd almost allowed them to do the same to me.
I then pushed everything away, including the Butchers. Coming that close to violence was a stark reminder of the knife-edge that my life had become; the realization combined with ignoring all of my other numerous sensory powers left me feeling oddly detached. Of course, Emma was still watching, waiting for that first tear to fall. She wasn't going to get it, not anymore.
Thank you Reflex, and my apologies Fester, but she's not worth it.
That triggered another round of muted protests in the back of my mind, but I ignored them to take a single steadying breath. "No, I can't say I've been that upset since my mother died."
I didn't wait for Emma's reaction, but as I turned to leave, I did hear a few gasps of realization from the rest of her cronies. Of course, Sophia wasn't going to just let me walk away, but I turned on Damascian's precog sight, and the ghostly pre-echo gave me just enough warning to take a calculated stumbling step. From the outside, I hopefully just looked clumsy, but it tangled my legs with Sophia's just right so that she fell over with a squawk.
Parting shots or no, I was thoroughly done with today and all of its petty bullshit. I spared a last glance for the crowd of useless bystanders, catching the eye of that red-headed Teeth girl from Gladly's class. There was an intensity to her eyes that reminded me of what I now saw when I looked in the mirror. While the Butchers did find her vaguely familiar, none of their memories could put a name to the face. I don't know what she saw when she looked at me, but I doubt it was anything pleasant.
Once I was safely outside Winslow, I combined bloodsight with my bugs' jumbled mess of senses to look for witnesses. Content as I could be that nobody would see me from the alley I'd ducked into, I targeted a bug about two blocks away. Pyro's teleport carried me there with ease, and before anyone could figure out if that had been a gunshot or something worse, I made several more jumps until I was deep in the Docks, devoid of people.
When I was finally sure that I was alone, I let myself fall backwards, landing with a thud on the gravel as broken glass and used needles tried and failed to pierce my bulletproof skin. Only then, as far from other people as I could manage in a city like the Bay, did I allow myself to sob quietly.
It was hard, letting myself react instead of pushing my frustration and sorrow out into the swarm. The illusion of control was easier to believe if my bugs were freaking out instead of my body, and I was already habitually hiding my emotions to prevent the Butchers from leaking out.
Once I was certain I wouldn't snap at the tiniest things, I began to ease off my pressure on the chorus. Wisely, they kept their commentary to themselves as I lay there and watched the clouds drift by.
I lost track of the time as I tried and failed to be introspective; finally I had to ask. Why is my life such shit?
The Butchers were silent for a moment before Alkaline prodded my attention. "You looking for a feel good answer or an honest one?"
I thought about it for a moment. Honest please.
She took a metaphorical breath. "You're a doormat. You take whatever shit is sent your way but never stand up for yourself. You expect others to be like you and do the right thing, but the world doesn't work that way."
I wanted to protest that, to argue with them, but I had asked for honesty. I would listen to what they had to say right now, even if I hated what I heard.
Fester gave an indication she wanted to speak and Alkaline 'stepped back' to allow it. "Taylor, you remind me a lot of your mother. She was one of the most stubborn bitches I have ever met, and you clearly got it from her. It's a double edged sword, though. You've put up with a hell that would have broken most people. Any one of us would have killed them for disrespecting Annette like that, but you didn't. You came damn close though, and they have no idea."
"No shit, I wanted to turn them inside out for that," Sabertooth said.
So what? I should just beat the shit out of them?
Several of them laughed.
"Nah, you're way too soft for that still," Knockout said.
"Perhaps it would be wise to work your frustrations out on the Empire or ABB," Damascian offered.
"Alternatively, go claim your place with the Teeth and teach those brats why standing around was a mistake," Sanguine said.
It was probably a bad thing that I didn't dismiss that last one out of hand. After several moments I made my decision and hopped to my feet, stretching out my joints and getting a few satisfying pops.
Let's grab something to eat, then maybe spend some time Tinkering, and after that see what we can find. Maybe we'll get lucky and nail another warehouse before I need to be home tonight.
It probably wasn't a good thing that the collective cheered.