FATR: Look at the scroll bar. Just take a minute and look. See how long that is? Hahaha, yep, this chip chip is even longer than any oneshot I've ever written. It's kind of... two or three chapters put together. First of all, there were some parts I absolutely had to write before I got too far into the story time wise. I also wanted to write them now for LadyKayoss. Then I had to keep my promise to benny2000Long story short? This chapter is one long ass mother fucker, but I feel it's a good chapter, so it evens out. I'm also beginning to question the rating. Please let me know your thoughts on that. I don't own anything except Tess. Really, I don't. I have a couple of Child's Play and Nightmare on Elm Street comics sitting on my horror movie shelf, but I don't own the rights to anything. I'm so broke... Now, go get started on tackling this biatch, and leave me some kickass reviews.
X)O(X
He woke up in the dark with the smell of antiseptic tingling his olfactory sense. The room wasn't overly cold, but he could feel the air caressing his bare chest and arms. He could also feel a sheet covering him from the hips down. It was crisp and cool against his bare skin. That's when he realized, with immense confusion and just a touch of indignation, that he was completely nude. This drew his mind into clearer focus, in turn allowing him to realize he couldn't seem to feel anything in his midsection aside from a strange... coiling and uncoiling sensation in his sides.
"... vital signs?"
"Stable..."
The voices just touched his auditory sense but he couldn't make much of their meaning. They were far away, like they were coming from underwater. He assured himself it was because his mind wasn't fully awake yet. From what he could smell, feel, and hear, it sounded like he might be in a hospital. He strained to understand the voices, concentrating on that one thing. It was difficult as the persistent darkness was beginning to threaten his sanity.
"...ative. Dr. Octopus is still..."
Octopus? What? He groaned and forced his cracked lips and dry throat to croak, "I'm... Otto... Why did you..."
The two doctors jumped and whipped around to stare at the prone figure in the hospital bed. A thick white bandage encircled his head, layered thickly over his eyes. "You said he wasn't awake," the older accused the younger one.
"Why?" Dr. Otto Octavius pressed. His nails dug into his palms as his fists clenched, trembling with the tension in his muscles. "Why did you call me that?"
The young physician dodged a metallic tentacle as it lashed out randomly, pulling against the restraint that held it to the bed.
No one was talking to him. Being ignored irritated him more than anything else about this situation. His anger lent power to his weakened voice. "I'm Otto!" He shouted and slammed his fists on the mattress. "Why did you call me Dr. Octopus?"
The doctors backed away a few nervous steps as all four of the arms lashed out at once. The elder recovered first. "Dr. Octavius, please calm down. You're in good hands, I assure you."
Otto forced the panicked hysteria to leave his voice and slowly unwound his bunched muscles. There was no reason to let these imbeciles know how disoriented and lost he really felt. This would be more tolerable if I could see... "Tell me where I am," he commanded in a low, frigid voice.
"Don't you remember?" The youth inquired.
The tentacles twitched dangerously so the older doctor jumped in with, "You're in a hospital. You've been in a coma ever since the explosion at the Oscorp lab. Do you remember any of it?"
Otto would have closed his eyes to think about it if it hadn't been so dark. Then again, maybe he had never opened them in the first place, or maybe they were open and he was blind and... The biochemist took a breath and forced himself to relax. What had happened? He'd always considered himself so level headed... Explosion... Explosion... He couldn't remember anything about an explosion. He couldn't even really remember what he'd been working on with Osborn. "I can't remember," he whispered. "I can't remember anything." There was a pause. "Which hospital is this?"
The two doctors exchanged nervous glances. They took a few wary steps away from the four metal arms before the younger spoke. "We're... not permitted to divulge the location..."
Otto's other senses had begun correcting and heightening for the loss of sight, and he heard them back away before speaking. He heard the tremor in their voices when they spoke. They were afraid of him. Why? What had happened? Why couldn't he see? I mustn't lose myself, now. I must hold together. They cannot be allowed to know how... "What? And why not?" He snapped, trying to sit up. Something around his middle pulled and he had to lay back down.
"Please remain calm, doctor." The older one tried to temper the increasingly hazardous situation. One subconscious whack from the metal snakes writhing on the floor could finish him and his colleague. "You're in a government owned facility, and we've been ordered to keep the name of said facility under wraps for the time being. You've been in a coma for approximately four months. Now that you're awake, we'll alert our superiors, and someone will be down to counsel you before the day's out. Until then, it is imperative that you remain calm. Alright?"
Government facility? Counsel? What happened to me? There was something inside him whispering that he couldn't trust these people, but until he knew what was going on there was nothing he could do except relax and wait. "Alright," he answered
The younger one eyed the tentacles carefully. They seemed to vibrate with tension despite Otto's conscious compliance. "Would you like something to help you relax?"
"No," Otto answered curtly.
"Get some rest, doctor," the older one insisted on his way to the door.
Otto snorted and laughed. "What, I haven't gotten enough rest, already?"
The other two doctors looked at each other nervously. The older doctor sent a mute order to his underling. Out loud, he promised, "We'll be back as soon as we can."
Otto listened to the door open and shut then settled back in the pillows to wait. His ears picked up soft clicking sound, like plastic being flicked. It was a sound that any seasoned doctor would recognize. It was the sound of bubbles being flicked to the top a plastic syringe.
The younger doctor pushed the plunger and a fine spray of the sedative spattered his latex gloved hand. He cast a nervous glance at the man in the bed. Dr. Octavius hadn't spoken but his head was cocked in a manner that demonstrated he was listening intently. The younger doctor felt his heart thundering in his chest and hoped the other man couldn't hear it. That's insane, of course he can't... He made his way around to the IV bag on the opposite side of the cot. His feet lifted carefully over the metallic creatures curling and uncurling on the floor. There was still no reaction from the scientist turned patient, but that didn't make the physician any less uneasy. He reached for the tube but just as he was about to slip the needle into the injection port Otto's voice shattered the silence.
"What are you doing?"
A tentacle curled toward his foot and bumped the side of his shoe. The physician forced himself not to jump and instead went on with administering the sedative. Could he feel through the metal appendages as well? If so, what on earth could be going through his head right then? "It's an antibiotic," the young doctor lied. He thought he sounded pretty convincing. The needle slid out and he clipped the port closed. Well, he thought he'd gotten away with it, but as he turned to exit, the actuator still against his shoe lifted and tightened around his ankle. This again caused the physician to wonder just how aware of the four extra limbs Otto was at that point. If he was consciously aware of them, he was amazingly calm about it.
"Why?"
The doctor cringed as another tentacle lifted off the ground and snapped its claws inches from his face. This was a bad situation, very bad. "You were injured in the accident. Better safe than sorry, right?" The young man could see his reflection, white as a sheet, in the gleaming claw. It still hovered in his face, like a serpent debating a mouse. He remained perfectly still.
Otto spoke, controlling his voice carefully. "I gathered that, but what..." He trailed off. Why bother wasting his breath on this blithering moron? Besides, there were other things to worry about, such as what had kindled the explosion in the first place. He had a feeling it was important... Why... why am I so tired? I shouldn't... He... he sedated me anyway! That little parasite sedated... "What have you done?"
The artificial appendage around his ankle constricted and one of the machine's surrounding them began beeping frantically. "N-nothing, I don't know what you..."
"You grotesque... little worm... I'll... I'll..."
The young doctor cringed and shielded his face with his arms as the snake reared back to strike. He felt the pressure on his ankle decrease as the tentacle's grip slackened. His arms lowered and his eyes observed the biologist relaxing a little at a time, though he appeared to be fighting it. The machine that had been beeping furiously before quieted to a calmer, more rhythmic pattern as Otto's heart rate dropped to that of sleep. Immediately seizing on the opportunity to escape, the physician scuttled out of the weakened appendage's grip and slipped into the hall. He leaned against the closed door, waiting for his own heartbeat to drop to normal. Only when the adrenaline abated did he notice the dull throbbing in his ankle. He knelt and lifted his pants leg, rolling his sock out of the way. There was an encircling bruise forming already. He hadn't realized the tentacle had been squeezing that hard... Well, there was no way in hell anyone would get him back into the same room as the patient the doctors had jokingly dubbed Dr. Octopus. Let Pym and his people deal with it. I'm so out of here. I mean, screw dad. I really should've stuck with dancing... He strode away down the hall as quickly as he could without being obvious.
X)O(X
The pressure of Shiv's hand between his shoulder blades was starting to get incredibly obnoxious, even by Ferret's standards; Ferret, who had learned to swallow what few shreds of pride he had left and be everybody's doormat; Ferret, who was by nature easygoing and mild-tempered.
Shiv was herding him excitedly down the tunnel. In the distance, Ferret could smell the smoggy yet somehow pure city air, even though he was blindfolded. It was preferable to the stagnant tunnel air, and definitely preferable to the wreak of that rotting thing. Who left something like that laying around to pollute what little air there was, anyway? He probably didn't want to know, but then again... "What... Who... What was that?"
"What was what?" Hotstreak asked distractedly. His main focus was on the seemingly ever-present ball of fire with which he liked to fidget. The closer the small party came to the surface, the brighter the flame burned. That, and he'd noticed drinking alcohol seemed to boost his powers somewhat. Hey, it was an excuse to drink before going out, even though the others were only half convinced.
Hotstreak seemed to be in a better mood. Ferret didn't understand why, especially since he could smell fire, but he wouldn't question his luck, especially since he could smell fire. "The dead body."
"Leech," Hotstreak answered. "He's got a bad history with me and Ebon. We... well, me and Shiv, showed the sucker what was what, and left him there as a warning. Keeps others out, too, you know? Gotta be crazy to venture too far into a tunnel when there're dead people about."
Ferret had to agree. The smell alone would've forced him to turn back long before he saw the body. Fortunately, going back over it he'd had time to catch and hold his breath. "When can I take off the blind fold?"
"When we say," Shiv answered cheerfully. He became tipsy easier when he drank before five in the evening, but he wouldn't let it spoil his mood. Hell, he usually felt a bit lightheaded and floaty, anyway. It was great. He figured it was as close as he'd ever get to flying. Lucky Hostreak...
"Oh." Silence settled over the group once again, but Ferret was growing used to it by now. It stretched on and on and on. Ferret tried to ignore Shiv's irritating pushing and shoving by focusing on the smells of civilization. As they grew even closer, he could smell a myriad of perfumes and colognes, ranging from expensive brand names he couldn't even begin to pronounce to cheap dollar store stuff. Forever and a day later, they stopped walking and Shiv grabbed his shoulders to indicate that he should do the same. Shiv kind of freaked him out if he though about it too hard... Light flooded his world as the blindfold was removed. He stood there blinking until his eyes adjusted. They were standing at the foot of some stairs in a rundown subway station. "Condemned" tape hung in the entrance like yellow streamers. He turned to his companions, both of which wore hooded jackets. "What're you gonna do if they knock the place down?" Ferret asked.
It was a stupid, irrelevant question. The stupidity and irrelevance of it hit a nerve in the pyro. Wasn't Shiv stupid and irrelevant enough for the entire gang? "Shut up and listen," Hotstreak growled. He reached behind him and his hand closed around something tucked in his back pocket. It was wrapped in a green rag. "Have you ever used a gun?"
Ferret felt a rock settle in his stomach. He wasn't quite sure he liked where this was going. "Yes..."
Hotstreak thrust the concealed weapon toward the smaller meta-human. When Ferret hesitated, he hissed, "Take it."
"Yeah," Shiv snickered. "You get more points for a body count."
Ferret closed trembling hands around the package, not sure if Shiv was kidding or not. He unwrapped it partially and studied its obsidian surface. Whether or not Shiv was joking, Ferret decided not to use the gun unless he absolutely had to use it.
X)O(X
Tess fiddled uncomfortably with one of the chains that hung low around her hips. She snuck a glance at Frieda, noting the pink tank top and flip flops. Pink had always been Frieda's favorite color, and it did look good on her. Her eyes slid down the soft arm and landed on the pink, flower shaped watch. Frieda saw her looking and inspected the watch, too.
"They're not late, yet." She smiled at Tess. "Don't forget, patience is a virtue."
Tess crossed her arms and kicked at the ground with a black sneaker. The silver gel pen she'd decorated them with, though faded, glinted at her. Ants scattered before her toe, and she found herself wondering what the ants must be thinking. What would it be like to be so small? Her eyes shifted to Frieda's feet as she tried to imagine what it would be like to be as small as an ant. The pink soles of those sandals alone would have to be as big as mountains. Tess gazed into the sky as she pictured a giant pink sandal with a foot and a leg stretching up into the wild blue yonder. It might be fun to lift hundreds of times my weight, but I wouldn't "... want to be that small..."
"What was that?" Frieda asked. Her hair shifted softly against her back as she turned her head. It caught the suns rays and threw them back in a silky light show of red and dark gold.
"Ants," Tess shrugged and nodded at the diminutive commune scuttling around the toes of her shoes. "Too small."
Frieda followed her friend's gaze and watched the glossy black insects scrambling among the miniature weeds and grains of sand. The cracks must've been like ravines way down there. Their antenna waved furtively, desperately picking out the invisible trails of those who had gone before them. Stay in line, stay close to your peers, it's safer there... "I disagree. What about Them?"
Tess snickered. "Hooray for B horror movies."
A city bus stopped just outside the main parking lot and two teenagers squeezed out with the rest of the crowd. It seemed like everyone had decided to visit the mall that afternoon. The teenagers, Virgil and Richie, had contemplated flying there and changing in an alley, but neither had wanted to wear his costume under his clothing in this inferno. As it was, Richie wore a plain green t-shirt instead of the usual sweatshirt, and still thought he would die from heat exhaustion. Something in his head whispered that the discomfort would have been worth it to have their costumes with them, but he ignored it. They were off duty. Besides, what could really happen? All of the heavy hitters were either lying low or behind bars.
"Hey, there they are." Frieda pointed across the crowded parking lot.
Tess looked up at the two youths picking their way through the gleaming sea of cars. One was blond, dress in earthy tones, but she didn't really care about him. No, there was something about the African-American in the Super-Man t-shirt that struck her. Something about his hair, maybe? She saw dread locks everywhere, though, so why it should mean anything... well, meant nothing. Without thinking about it, Tess pulled up her hood and stuffed her hands deep in the kangaroo pouch.
"So what'd you do?" Richie was asking Virgil.
Virgil's eyes darted around before he leaned inconspicuously closer to his best friend and whispered conspiratorially, "I gave the blender a little zap and dad had to take us out to eat. Barely missed that one, though."
Richie had to laugh, even as he admonished, "You should be more careful."
"It was self defense," Virgil protested throwing his hands out, palms up.
Richie smirked and snickered. "Right, self defense."
"Hey, your mom's a good cook. If you were in my position, you would've done the same thing..." Virgil trailed off as he scanned the crowd for Frieda. He was curious as to who this old friend might be, especially since Frieda had never mentioned her before. The heat shimmered in the air, retreating with every step they took like a mirage. He could recall viewing Hotstreak through the wavering, no-quite-there wall more than once. A sticky hand brushed his hair out of his damp face and he wondered why he wasn't used to this yet.
Frieda watched Virgil scan the front of the mall. Richie was apparently too busy laughing into his hand to look up. The auburn-haired teen gripped the strap of her pink Hello Kitty purse in one hand and waved wildly with the other. "Virgil! Richie! Over here!" Virgil's eyes locked with hers for a moment and he flashed her his megawatt grin, returning the wave.
Virgil's dark eyes shifted from the ray of pink sunshine to the hunched figure next to her. The grin remained for show, though it had faded to a shadow of its former illumination. He stopped walking and gripped Richie's shoulder. Silver eyes gazed back at him from the shadow of the black hood. "Richie..."
Richie eyes also fell on Frieda's companion. The dark figure contrasted sharply with the sunlight and the summer colors milling around her. He blinked, entertaining the idea that the heat might be getting to him. "You don't think that's..."
"I wouldn't completely dismiss the theory," Virgil admitted, taking in the sight. Something in those eyes seemed to be slowly tightening a vice around his stomach. Heck, for all he knew, that's exactly what she was doing. "Then again, you're the one with the photographic memory."
"That's true..." Richie started slowly as he found his pace again. "But there are a lot of girls who own black hoodies..." This was said mostly as a failed attempt to comfort himself; mainly because if there was trouble, the two heros wouldn't be entirely prepared. It wouldn't be the first time, but it wouldn't be pretty, either.
Virgil was going to reply but by then they were too far into ear shot to even whisper. "Frieda, what's up?" He greeted cheerfully and bumped fists with her. Virgil once more turned his head towards the dark patch in the summer afternoon. She was watching something on the ground intently, but all the male teen could see were ants. "Who's your friend?" The eyes flicked up from the pavement, but paused once more over Virgil's t-shirt.
Frieda put a hand on Tess' shoulder and smiled warmly. "This is Tess Escher. Tess," she paused a space to make sure Tess was paying attention. "This is Virgil Hawkins, and his shadow is Richie Foley." She was pleased to see a smile quirk Tess' lips.
"Haha." The blond teenager rolled his eyes behind his glasses, but smiled never the less. His inventive center was turning her name over in his head, subconsciously trying to connect it to her powers. Richie wasn't ever aware of the thought processes, though. His brain acted like a computer. It processed the data beyond his mind's eye, and only spit out the result when it was finished. "What's up, Tess?" He stuck his fist out. Tess' gaze flicked upwards then down to his hand. She raised an eyebrow at him but her hands stayed in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Richie let his hand fall to his side and disappear into his own pocket. "So..."
Frieda forced herself not to laugh, even as Virgil sent her a look that said 'Is she serious?' To be honest, there were times not even Frieda was quite sure what went on in Tess' head. "Come on. It'll be cooler inside." The glass door swung open and the blessed air conditioning washed over her skin.
X)O(X
He floundered in the dark sea, completely disoriented. There was no up and everywhere was up at the same time. Selecting a direction, he thrashed forward wildly, hoping to break the surface. There was something heavy around his middle, though; something that held him back. If there had been a down, he imagined that's the direction it would have been pulling him. However, as directionless as this environment was, the weight only served to keep him firmly in place. When consciousness did finally began to drift back into place Otto had a tremendous headache and nausea swam in his stomach. There was a different blanket on him now, though he was still naked. This blanket was warmer, with more weight to it. The bed was much more comfortable, too, and he was propped into a sitting position. He could also sense a presence on the bed not his own and hear whispers around him. "Ugh... Hel... Hello?"
Dr. Pym was seated on the edge of the bed. He had brown hair and understanding brown eyes, which were often a blessing with some of the more difficult patients that passed through. After discussing the particulars of Otto's earlier awakening with the two that had been present for it, Pym knew he'd have to proceed with extreme caution. This was especially true after Dr. Simms' underhanded trick with the sedative. It was hard enough to get a panicked... accident victim to calm down and trust the doctors. Especially accident victims that hadn't quite come to terms with their new... abilities just yet. Pym just sincerely hoped the armed guards were an unnecessary precaution. Fortunately, this particular case couldn't see them. Maybe this would go smoother than expected. Maybe. "Aah, good, you're awake." Dr. Pym smiled, knowing facial expressions were always apparent in one's voice. "I offer my sincerest apologies for Dr. Simms' actions, but we really need to talk..."
Otto remembered it now. He remembered the other doctor deceiving him and lying to him. Why should he trust this man any more than the others? "Who are you people? What do you want with me?" He demanded. For the time being, he was too distracted with his surroundings to think about the odd sensations in his middle.
Dr. Pym leaned away from a tentacle, keeping his voice optimistic and soothing. "I'm Dr. Pym, Otto. First of all, there's no need to be frightened. You're quite safe here. No one wants to hurt you, no one will hurt you. We're just looking out for your health."
The vaguely grim quality of Dr. Pym's voice was even more unsettling than the fear in Dr. Simms' voice had been earlier. However, there was something soothing about the voice, so Otto took a deep breath and tried to stop his stomach from swimming. That was the odd thing, though, the fact that he couldn't feel his stomach. He could feel his stomach, yes (and he wished he couldn't), but he couldn't feel the bed or the sheet or the air...
"Second of all," Dr. Pym continued gently when Otto only listened, "you've... you've suffered severe trauma to your optic nerve..."
"What?" Otto jerked out of his daze and turned his head towards what he figured to be the source of the voice. I really am blind? Oh, god, I'm blind! I'm...
The artificial appendages rose up and snapped their claws furiously. The man sitting on the edge of the bed resisted the urge to scoot to a safer distance. There was no reason to further fry the scientist's nerves. There was also no reason to make Otto feel like a friendless freak. To do either of those things could be detrimental at this point. "You're not blind," Dr. Pym reassured and was relieved to see the claws relax. "However, you can't tolerate bright lights."
"Oh, no..." Otto put a hand over his face, suddenly overwhelmed by dizziness. His finger tips encountered the soft gauze that protected his damaged eyes. This was horrible. He hadn't thought it would be possible, but the sickness in his stomach intensified. "I... I think I'm... going to throw up..." He moved his free hand to his stomach and, in a moment, all of his physical discomforts were forgotten. He patted the cold, hard metal, mind reeling with questions. "What..." His hand slid down the curve to his side and encounter the base of something cylindrical. It was a familiar shape, a familiar feeling, and he knew under normal circumstances he would recognize... "What have you done?" His voice rose until it was a shout that echoed off the walls. He felt Pym jump up but didn't care. "What have you done to me?" The darkness, the silent observers all around him, and he couldn't remember... He couldn't... It was too much...
"Otto, you remember your arms... The ones you published that paper about, that you use for your more delicate experiments...Well, uh..." Dr. Pym hesitated, trying to pick out the most delicate way to described the situation.
Of course he remembered that! He wasn't stupid! What were these people not telling him? Why wouldn't they just tell him what had happened?
"They're on you, right now. They've... They seemed to have fused to you during the explosion. We've been monitoring the healing process, and your skin has been growing around the harness. The arms have become locked into your central nervous system." Dr. Pym couldn't control the excitement rising in his voice, try as he might. Then again, appealing to Otto's scientific side might help. "We haven't figured out the exact mechanics of the bonding, but the arms have been responding to your every command, conscious and unconscious. They have an organic..."
"Tell me where I am," Otto interrupted. He couldn't take anymore of this drivel and secrecy. If there was anything Otto Octavius hated most in the world, it was not knowing. Not knowing was even worse than being ignored.
Dr. Pym glanced at the older doctor from before. "I'm sorry, but we're not authorized to..."
Otto clench his teeth and slammed his fists down again, this time shoving himself into a sitting position. "I know. You're 'not authorized' to tell me, the victim, where I'm being held! I don't care! I didn't ask to be here!"
Another doctor that had remained silent up until point spoke. His slate hair was cold in the low lighting of the room. The glasses that hid his eyes behind thick layers of glass were even colder. "I know this is hard to hear, Otto."
That was it. He couldn't take not knowing anymore. The darkness... the absence of feeling... the writhing and... and the darkness. Just... the darkness! "Remove the bandages," he suddenly ordered in a just as suddenly level voice.
"Sir," the bespectacled doctor protested, "your eyes..."
His nails dug into the soft mattress and he gritted his teeth. Rage coursed through his veins and pounded in his heart and head. "Take them off!" Otto howled.
The older doctor silently sought Pym's permission before dimming the lights. He dodged around the metallic arms and hesitantly untaped the bandages. Despite the horrifying things that had gone through the place, he was reluctant to look into Otto's eyes.
The pressure around his head loosened and the bandages dropped away little by little. The tickling sensation against is face, cheeks, and ears would have been relaxing under normal circumstances, but these circumstances were everything but normal. Otto wasn't sure if the situation had reached the peak of its surrealism or not, though, and that frightened him. Lines of light sliced across his vision. When the bandage was gone, Otto finally had a more or less clear view of those around him. The contrast between light and shadow was unnaturally exaggerated, lending a hellish cast to the whole room. There were men with guns off to the side. Safe? Yeah, sure, right...
But Otto's curiosity and aching desire to know overrode everything else. His eyes drifted down to the bright patch around his middle and his world stopped. Words left him entirely, his breath stuck in his lungs, and his muscles locked up. Fresh pink scar tissue was sending tendrils over the edges and through the clasp of the harness. One side had grown all the way down to the base of the upper right arm. It wasn't climbing the arm, but it was sending more tendrils out across the harness. A trembling hand lifted, almost of it's own accord, for Otto's conscious mind was still refusing to respond, and ran across the mess before his eyes. He could feel the touch against the skin creeping over the metal. He could feel it! "Oh my god..." he moaned in shock.
"We're just now beginning to understand the genetics of what happened. There's a paper by Dr. Reed..."
But Otto wasn't listening to anyone right now. He gasped for breath and his heart thundered in his ears. This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening... But it was. It was real. The blindingly bright metal under his palms was real. The fresh tissue was real. The bed and the surreal faces that drifted around him in the strange shadows were real. "OH MY GOD!"
"Please," Dr. Pym interjected. "I know this is a devastating thing to discover." He gestured towards the man in the glasses. "Dr. Lange is here to talk to you about it, guide you through the transition. We hope the scientist in you will be able to find the exciting possibilities that this accident has brought into all of our lives. We can all work together to find out what this discovery means and what it holds for the future of-"
Otto slowly raised his head. Anger narrowed his vision to two fine points. Maybe someone of lesser intellect would have been fooled by their word choice, but Otto could see between the lines. Hell, he had written most of those lines negotiating with and talking down animal rights activists. Well, he wasn't an animal, and he wouldn't be experimented on no matter how these halfwits tried to spin it. "So what you're saying is that I was found like this... then left like this... to see what would happen?" The uncomfortable silence that followed answered all of his questions. They didn't want to help, and they didn't care about his well-being. He was aware of the claws that rose into a striking position behind him, but he didn't even try to stop it. The fear and discomfort in the doctors' eyes sent gratifying rushes through his body. "That is what you're saying, yes?" He continued in a sinisterly low voice. "You could have gotten these arms off me, but you decided not to." Hysteria tainted his voice and he didn't care. "Who the hell are you?"
"We're not allowed to..." Dr. Pym began weakly.
"Anger is normal, Otto." Dr. Lange still hoped to salvage some control, even as the actuators loomed. "You shouldn't feel ashamed of that emotion."
Otto glared at Dr. Lange. The man's eyes were little more than bright white circles to him. Otto could feel himself teetering on the brink of an abyss. The nature of the abyss was a mystery, but it was deep and dark and if he fell it would be a long way down. He wasn't afraid of the abyss, though, and he wasn't the least bit ashamed of his anger. "Be quiet!" He growled.
Dr. Lange wouldn't be intimidated. He was the physician, he had the clipboard, and he was sure he could remedy the situation. "It's important to remember that you need not blame yourself. This very well could be a blessing in--"
Blame himself? How stupid did these people think he was? He didn't blame himself. He blamed them! Something in Otto's head snapped, then. He heard it. Something snapped and his footing gave way and he tumbled over the edge. "I SAID BE QUIET!" There was the feeling of something uncoiling in his side again, but this time it was sharper. It didn't hurt. Oh, no. It felt good. It was the best feeling he'd had in a long time, even better than seeing the doctors looking trapped and afraid. Several things happened in the next two seconds, but for Otto they happened in glorious slow motion.
The armed guards raised their the guns. There wasn't even time for the click of the weapons being cocked to finish echoing. Two claws snapped open with a soft shinking sound and drove into the guns, crumpling them in the guards' hands. The motion continued forwards, driving the twisted metal into and through the men's abdomens. There was a satisfying crunch as ribs and spines snapped. While this was going on, a third tentacle sliced through Dr. Lange's chest. It was like punching through a Cadbury Egg. The nauseating impacts trembled down the artificial limbs and Otto could actually feel the squish. The accompanying adrenaline rush was almost arousing. Almost. Otto noticed the two remaining doctors making a mad dash for the door. One of them was pulling out a radio to call for back up. That wouldn't do, not in even the remotest sense. The only tentacle left unstained lashed out and up, eviscerating the unlucky victim before he could even press the button. The feeling of the claws tearing so easily through flesh made Otto tremble with repulsive elation. A quick flick to the right and Otto had snagged Dr. Pym by the ankle, just inches from the safety of the door.
Dr. Pym's head whirled as he was plucked off the ground like a rag doll. His heart leaped into his throat while is stomach dove for his feet. The world dipped and raced around him for a moment and then he was face to face with a macabre scene. Otto stood with one free organic hand gripping the sheet around his waist. The three tentacles writhed behind him as though they were independent creatures. Blood dripped from the bodies still speared on the ends. Pym knew the claw gripping his ankle was also bright crimson, though he couldn't see it. The entire portrait of destruction was upside down, and that somehow managed to exacerbate the horror. The physician froze like a deer in the headlights as he was drawn inexorably closer to those gleaming, demonic eyes. So, this is what it's like to stare death in the face, flashed through his reeling brain. The motion halted and Pym found himself suspended at eye level, inches from the biochemist's face. There were thumps around him as the other tentacles shook off their burdens.
"Who are you working for?" Otto hissed.
Dr. Pym sputtered and stammered before deciding there was no use in resisting. Rules and regulations had gone out the window the instant the slaughter had started. There was only one thing he could do, now, to make sure he wasn't next. "L-look, Otto, it's a complex... network..." The claw on his ankle tightened threateningly. "I'm... We have more than one agency handling the mu... uh... these kinds of cases..." The world dipped and twisted again as the arm launched him across the room. The wall knocked the air out of his lungs in one soft grunt. Just as suddenly, a dripping claw latched around his throat and hauled him off the ground. The cold, slick blood made Pym ill.
"Do not test my patience, insolent pest," Otto spat. "I'll not hesitate dispatch you, as well."
Pym raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I... I really don't... Fury's the big dog on these matters, but..." There was a jerk and Pym once again found himself eye to eye with the tentacled maniac.
"Fury?"
Pym gulped, uncomfortably aware of the metal constricting his neck. "Y-yeah... Nick Fury."
Otto scrutinized the pest dangling in front of him. He needed a plan and fast, before anyone decided to drop in and investigate the source of the screams. However, he was still high on the coppery scent of blood, and rage and hate and denial and confusion still pounded his skull, inhibiting reason. Somewhere in the back of all this, he wondered if Tesseract had ever felt this way after a kill. If only he could've harnessed her powers before she managed to escape. She was most likely dead, now... Then again, a year wasn't all that long. Perhaps she'd found a hole to crawl into somewhere. He remembered her resilience and will power... It all clicked into place in one glorious epiphany. Once the ball began rolling, his plans took on lives of their own.
First, though, he had to escape. Clothing was first priority. Dr. Lange had been wearing black slacks. Good. That meant the blood wouldn't show quite so much. He stripped Lange to his skivies and took the pants one leg at a time. All of his actions were mechanical and distracted, but at least he was functioning. He held up the bloody shirt and frowned before casting it aside. Next he needed to shield his eyes. One actuator plucked the dark glasses off the nearest guard's face. Otto examined the glasses distastefully. They were a short cry from radiation goggles or the like; far too cyber-cop-esque for the biochemist's taste. No matter. They'd do for now. Until he could safely test the debilitating power of this new handicap, it was safest to take all precautions. He slid the glasses on leisurely while another claw sought out the light switch.
Dr. Pym felt icy daggers slice through his soul when the obsidian lenses turned to him. They were black holes in the pallid, serene face.
"You," Otto whispered, "are coming with me."
X)O(X
"I'm hungry."
Hotstreak resolutely ignore Shiv. He wished with all his might that he could take solace in the golden warmth of his powers, but they were too far into the inhabited part of the city for that. Even though they traveled in the back alleys (for greater ease of smuggling Ferret), it was a risk he couldn't take right then.
"I could really go for some doughnuts right now," Shiv continued thoughtfully. He thrust his hands into the pockets of the blue hooded sweatshirt and watched the sparse clouds sail by overhead. Hotstreak had taken the red hooded sweatshirt again, much to Shiv's fleeting disappointment. No matter, though, because with Hotstreak one had to pick his battles. The blue-haired Bang Baby pulled in an excited breath and his eyes sparkled. "You know what I haven't had in forever? Pocky!"
Now, Ferret didn't have the Shiv experience that Hotstreak possessed. Hotstreak knew how to recognize a senseless rant while it was brewing. The best way to avoid senseless rants was to ignore them and wait for Shiv's ADD tendencies to kick in. Ferret had always been the curious type. "Pocky?" Ferret asked.
"Yes, pocky. You've never heard of..." The blank look on Ferret's face spoke volumes. Shiv happily launched into his rant. "It's like... It's like a pop tart, only it's a stick, and it doesn't have the filling... And the cookie part is exactly the same either... Okay, so it's nothing like a poptart, really, but it still rocks! You see, it's got frosting, and it's stick shaped, and it comes in Strawberry and chocolate and..."
Ferret edged slowly away from Shiv, casting a 'what do I do' glance at Hotstreak. Hotstreak wasn't paying attention. Ferret noticed an interesting thing, though. Shiv's voice was usually normal enough, but when the unbalanced meta-human got worked up about something, his voice rose in pitch.
Shiv continued babbling the rest of the way, gesturing adamantly. His rant drew to a close with, "It's like... Like an orgasm... On a stick! That's it! An orgasm on a stick in my mouth!"
Ferret almost choked when he heard this last exclamation. Yes, Shiv definitely and completely freaked him out.
Hotstreak stopped dead in his tracks. His ears were scarred for life, not doubt about that. Why did the end of the rant have to be the one part he couldn't tune out? The pyro slowly turned to look at Shiv. Shiv was staring back with a look of utter confusion on his face. "Dude..."
"What?"
Hotstreak shook his head slowly. "No. Just... no."
"What'd I do?" Shiv pressed, scampering to catch up as Hostreak and Ferret strode purposefully away.
"No," Hotstreak repeated, covering his ears. "I don't want to hear a peep out of you for at least an hour."
"But-" Shiv started to protest then let his head drop. "Okay. You won't hear another peep... Mm... Peeps..."
Ferret sent Hotstreak another alarmed look as Shiv trailed off into his own marshmallow coated thoughts. Hotstreak returned a warning look and firmly shook his head. By then the mall could be seen peering through the other buildings. The rag tag group stopped and the red-head turned to Ferret.
"So..."
The rather horse-faced Bang Baby looked up at the pyro. Without even realizing it, Ferret had already begun rubbing the back of his left hand again. "So?"
"We'll see you inside." Hotstreak couldn't help adding with an evil smirk, "Maybe." He jerked up the hood to cover his trademark hair and zipped the jacket half way. Shiv followed suit.
Ferret shook his head, trying to boost up his confidence. "No, I'm all over this. I'm all over this like... like..."
"Sugar on a Peep?" Shiv asked, cocking his head. The rough elbow in the ribs from Hotstreak only made Shiv laugh. "Good luck, rat man," Shiv beamed and waved. "You'll need it." He skipped off after Hotstreak and disappeared through the double glass doors. With that, Ferret was left to his own devices.
"Okay, think, think, think..." He leaned against the wall next to a cluster of trash cans. Lord, they wreaked, but he had to think about the task at hand. He couldn't just smash his way in like Kangor or Hyde would have done. He didn't possess that kind of power. There was the gun, still wrapped in the green rag, tucked in the back of his pants. The ammunition of a gun was limited, so he couldn't just walk in and shoot people until he reached his prize. He didn't really want to do that anyway. It wasn't a lie when he told Hotstreak he'd used a gun before. Ferret wasn't a bad shot, either (he could take down all of the ducks in carnival shooting galleries), but he'd never fired a gun at an actual person.
He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. All right. What can I do with my powers? What, creatively, can I do with my powers? I'm faster than average. True, I'm not The Flash or anything, but I can almost out run Static on his disk, and I can certainly outrun a couple of fat ass rent-a-cops. That's what I do best, after all. Run. Ferret tiptoed to the mouth of the alley and sniffed the air out of habit. His beady eyes flicked over the large white structure just across the way. He would have to find an outside entrance close to the jewelry story and just haul ass. Of course, there couldn't possibly be an external entrance that close. Well... He looked down at himself. I'm also small, and I can climb. Maybe I could sneak around back and find an air duct or something. Yes, there we go. This'll be a snap. He melted back into the shadows and set about locating a rout to the one of the unloading areas behind one of the major department stores. Even as he congratulated himself on devising a solid enough plan so far, he felt the weight of the gun against his lower back and gulped.
X)O(X
The group of adolescents threaded their way through the crowd. Apparently they weren't the only ones seeking refuge from the outdoor inferno. A dull roar filled the air around them; the sound of hundreds of people chattering in an enclosed area. The two girls seemed perfectly content to remain silent. Virgil felt the silence becoming rather oppressing. "I didn't know you liked comics."
Frieda exchanged a nostalgic grin with Tess. "Tess was the comic buff. When we were little, we used to act out scenes from our favorites."
"You ever read Plantman?" Richie asked Tess.
Tess mentally scanned the titles that had lined her bookshelf. Finally she shook her head. "No... More Barker and Innovation. Child's Play adaption and stuff..."
"Oh, man, remember that one with the teddy bear that was so obviously a Freddy reference?" Frieda laughed.
"That was weird... What was..." Tess placed her pointer finger on her chin and studied some point between her eyes and her shoes. "Yes. Four: Lumpy Luanne and Lenny." She giggled, remembering how much that particular issue had sucked. However, as with many of the generic horror movies she watched, it was brilliant because it sucked.
Richie wasn't exactly sure what the two girls were talking about, but he hadn't known that Frieda was a horror movie fan, either. She'd refused to go see Texas Chainsaw Massacre with them. When they hung out with her and Daisy, she seconded Daisy's protests against such movies without fail. They hadn't been acquainted with Frieda for that long in the grand scheme of things, but he'd thought it had been long enough to know her just about inside out. "There are Child's Play comics?"
"There're comics for just about all of the popular slasher flicks. They're old, so they're hard to find..." Frieda shrugged. "Oh, man, you know what really sucked? There were supposed to be three issues for Nightmare on Elm Street: The Beginning, but the third issue was supposedly never made. Now we'll never know what was supposed to happen..."
The right corner of Tess' mouth lifted in a crooked smile. "Use your imagination." Her hand left its hiding place for the first time since they'd entered the mall to flick Frieda in the forehead.
"Hey, that hurt!" Frieda protested.
"Suck it up," Tess grinned.
Frieda gave Tess a solid shove on the shoulder. The black fabric hardly even felt warm. "I know you do," she smirked. It was only fake aggression, after all.
Tess was laughing as she stumbled against the two boys striding through the crowd. The taller of the two scowled at the group from the shadow of his red hood. Gray locked with green as Tess stopped walking and stared up at him. His blue hooded companion stopped and turned around, brown eyes darting from one to the other. Tess stood her ground, gazing up blankly, as the green eyes narrowed and began to glow.
"We gotta go, man," Shiv interrupted in a low voice. This was hardly the place or the time for a brawl.
Hotstreak frowned and moved on slowly. He didn't break eye contact until the crowd merged between them and cut off his line of sight. "Fuck," he muttered and glared at the ground.
Shiv tried to remain positive. Shiv always tried to remain positive. "Chill your beans. Business before destructive rampages."
Hotstreak only muttered some more obscenities as they took up their positions across from the jewelry store.
Tess' sweatshirt pulled tight across her chest as a hand jerked on the back of it. She turned lazily to meet Frieda's concerned eyes. This puzzled her if nothing else. "What?" Frieda gripped Tess' upper arms and implored her serious attention.
"There's a lot of gang activity in Dakota, remember?" Frieda explained. Tess sent her another crooked smile, this one touched with sardonic amusement. Her expression clearly said, 'Yeah. And what of it?' Frieda sighed and shook her head. "Just be careful."
"Is everything alright?" Virgil asked, standing in the doorway of Super Comics and Games.
"Peachy," Tess grinned. Her fingers closed around Frieda's wrist and she dragged her excitedly into the store.
Richie had stood off to the side, inspecting the faces of the two thugs. His super-genius had brain kicked into gear and began processing the vaguely familiar faces. He followed the girls into the store on autopilot, contemplating the information his neurons were firing at him. Once inside, he strolled casually to the rack of new releases and began to browse as he whispered, "V, we may have a problem."
Virgil didn't like the tone in Richie's voice at all. "Please don't tell me it's a meta problem."
Richie bit his lip. "Those two back there? That was Shiv and Hotstreak."
Virgil groaned and fell back against the wall. Dull pain heralded his skull's connection with the plaster but he was too frustrated to care. Why did they have to be everywhere? He hadn't expected being a super-hero to be easy, not by a long shot, but this was just ridiculous. "I told you not to tell me."
Richie shrugged sheepishly. "Sorry, bro. It's my sworn duty." Success! He plucked the latest issue of Spider-Man off the rack and grinned like he'd just found buried treasure. It was a new series, currently at a mere five issues. Supposedly, it was based on a true story, in New York. Richie didn't entirely doubt it. New York was a veritable mental ward.
"To royally screw up my day?" The two best friends looked at each other. Virgil smiled and shook his head. "What am I supposed to do about it, anyway? I don't even have my costume-" Virgil's heart made a mad dash for his throat as the two girls appeared beside Richie.
"Found a good one?" Frieda smiled at the blond boy.
"Only the greatest since-" Richie's enthusiasm melted into confusion and mild annoyance as Tess wordlessly snatched the thin paper book out of his hand. He didn't speak but he shot a look at Frieda. The auburn-haired girl put out her hands (palms up at shoulder level) and responded with a helpless, if not amused, look.
Tess flipped through the curiosity without any particular expression on her face. The colors were garishly bright compared to the comics she usually read, and the witty snips were considerably less morbid. It appeared to be something about a half spider, half human creature from planet Arachna. Despite this, the gaudy red and blue tights were unmistakable. "Something to be said for creative liberties. It's all wrong..." She snickered, eyes flicking to Richie. "Two years I lived in New York..." She flipped the comic closed and presented it to Richie. Her eyes wandered to the horror section and lit up. "Oh! Squee bunnies!" She rushed over to the shelf.
Richie followed her curiously, waving the comic book slightly as he spoke. "So all this is real?"
Virgil turned to Frieda, trying to forget there were two meta-humans somewhere in the mall doing who knows what... "So where'd you manage to pick her up?"
"I know, I know," Frieda sighed at the undertone of Virgil's voice. "But she's really great once you get to know her. She just..." Frieda searched for the right words. "She doesn't function on the same plain."
Frieda was smiling like she'd just made a joke but Virgil wasn't sure what it meant. "Where did you meet?"
"We went to the same elementary school," Frieda shrugged. "The kids weren't very nice to her, I took her under my wing, nothing exactly dramatic. She's been like a sister to me. She almost was my sister, once, but... Things got in the way..."
"So why haven't you ever mentioned her before?" Virgil was genuinely curious, but he also wanted to gather all of the information he could in case Tess went loco on the city like most of the other meta-humans.
Frieda sighed and shook her head. "It's really complicated, Virgil... I'm not even sure I understand all of it."
While this was going on, Richie was questioning Tess, not out of any need to know the potential enemy, but because the prospect of Spider-Man being really real was intriguing. "Seriously, is there a Spider-Man?"
Tess glanced up from the demons and vampires dancing across the pages in her hands. "Not like that." She nodded at the comic in Richie's hands. Three dark shapes loomed behind the boy, but he couldn't notice them. They strode past the two teenagers, the center one passing straight through Tess and Richie. The strange hunger inside her intensified and she threw a look over her shoulder to follow the shapes across the crowded mall. Something was going down. Something was...
"Not like how, exactly?"
Tess turned back to him. "I wonder, always... What makes it happen, you know? Similar factors amount to such different events. You know?"
"... You lost me."
Tess shook her head and forced herself to focus. When they had passed through her, it seemed to have cleared her head somewhat, so it was easier. "People just... by a twist of fate, a conscious choice, whatever... fall backwards into these powers, right?" She nodded at the comic in Richie's hands again. "What decides what they do? A person could be parentless and lash out against the world. A different person could be parentless and strives so it won't happen to anyone else. What decides that?"
Richie shrugged. "I'm sure there are more factors than that to consider. There's education, peer group... all kinds of thing, really."
An image of a face, of eyes hidden behind dark glasses (the kind that clip on the bridge of the nose), bubbled up into her head. There wasn't a sick grin on it or anything. That face was entirely human and entirely... not human. It was cold and hard as the glasses. Its lips were set with concentration, and that was it. It was the most terrible face Tess had ever laid eyes upon.
'Hm... Go to level five.'
'...Level five, sir?'
'Don't question me, insolent fool. Just do as I say.'
Tess gulped and hugged herself, shrinking into her hoodie. Richie frowned and tilted his head, attempting a clearer look at her face. "Tess?"
"You're right," she whispered, her eyes down and to the left. "You're right... Intellect... It's horrible..."
Richie's eyebrows jumped up. That hadn't been the point he'd been trying to make. In fact, that was the opposite of the point he'd been trying to make. No lies, his inner genius felt a bit persecuted, but he figured what kept him separate from people like Ebon and Hotstreak was that he tried not to let persecution miff him too much. "Well... Not always..."
Tess shrugged, snapping back quickly. "Frifri! Hey, Frifri!"
Tess was bouncing slightly, wildly gesturing her over. Frieda grinned at Virgil. "She beckons."
"What did you say was wrong with her?" Virgil grinned back.
Frieda rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you need to see you and Richie from a third person perspective sometime." As she drew closer to the other two her vision drifted to the vampire comic. "What is it?"
"It's Barker," Tess beamed. "He's still..." There was that twinge of desire again. Tess searched the immediate area for its source. Another dark shape padded out from behind the counter. Like the vaguely human shapes before, this one possessed no definite features, but it slunk along on all fours. Its head turned on its long neck, appearing to give her a once over before it followed the path of the three before it.
Tesssseract...
Her fingers went limp and the comic ruffled to the floor. Tess didn't notice Frieda pick it up. There was going to be an event. Everything else was just background noise, now, because there was going to be an event. Something like a trail of negative space threaded through and around the bustling crowd. The sweat scent of vanilla and rot and iron caressed her skin.
"Tess!" Frieda tried a third time, waving her hand in front of the girl's face.
Tess blinked. "I... Let's go that way..." She pointed in the direction the trail went.
"You want to got to the jewelry store?" Richie groaned.
Is that what that is? "Yes... jewelry store..." Tess grinned and wiggled her fingers so that her rings flashed. "Gotta love shiny things, right?"
That's when the screams started.
Virgil instinctively jumped between Frieda and Richie and where he though the sound had come from. Before he could remember he didn't have his costume, he found himself automatically seeking a place to change.
"What's going on?" Frieda asked fearfully.
Tess shot a look at Frieda. Frieda was safe there. The probability that the boys would let Frieda follow her was low. She didn't care if the boys followed her or not. If they found themselves in danger too, good. More energy. Without warning, Tess was off like shot, following a dark trail that was visible only to her.
"Tess!" Frieda shouldered between Virgil and Richie, preparing to follow. "You can't!"
Tess ignored her. All that mattered was the hunger, the desire. It pumped adrenaline into her and pulled her through the surging masses. There was fear around her. It felt good, but it wasn't fear she could feed off of yet. She had to get to the source, the center of swiftly spreading chaos.
"Stay back," Virgil urged Frieda. She thrashed against him. He hadn't realized she was this strong before.
"You don't understand!" Frieda protested and struggled. "She'll... she'll..." Though she wasn't one hundred percent sure of the technical inner workings of Tess' powers, she knew that bad things seemed to happen around her. Never had Tess come out hurt, but there was a first time for everything.
Virgil dodged in front of Frieda and held her shoulders in a grip that was firm, yet gentle. He stared seriously into her eyes to make sure she was listening. "I'll get her. You stay with Richie and try to get out." The teenage hero wasn't exactly sure what he'd do about Hotstreak and Shiv without his costume, but he wasn't about to stand by and do nothing. It just wasn't his style. His hero instincts wouldn't let him.
She won't come to you. Frieda nodded her acquiescence. "Okay." Virgil went one way and Richie began leading her to the nearest exit. It was touching that they cared about her, and too bad that this wasn't what she wanted now. "Sorry," she muttered as she spotted and opening in the mob.
Richie barely heard the word over the din. He turned to ask her what she meant just in time to see the sea of bodies pressing them apart. Then again, Frieda wasn't exactly trying to get back to him, either. He sighed and tried to follow her.
X)O(X
The crawl through the vents was long and dusty. Each new movement stirred up tiny whirlwinds that made Ferret start sneezing so hard he thought he'd never stop. He eventually managed to coordinate his movements with his breathing and such incidents were mostly avoided. The vents were smaller than he had expected, and icy wind was blowing through them. Then again, if it was going to be a simple task, Ebon wouldn't have bothered with it. Finally, after an eternity in the dark, echoing shaft, Ferret peered through a grate and laid eyes on his goal. He scanned the shining glass cases, awed by the way their contents glittered in the display light. Rolling on a diagonal in the cramped tunnel, he slid the gun gingerly out of his pants and unwrapped it. All the while, his eyes roamed the sea of light, seeking the target of this particular mission. Then, plain as day, there it was, winking coyly at him. There weren't any cops immediately beside it, but that didn't mean there weren't some somewhere. Ferret sniffed for the bacon as he slid the green cloth into his pocket. It would have been easier if he had known the exact scent for which he was searching, but he settled for smelling out their guns, if they carried any. The guns were what mattered, after all. There only seemed to be one in the immediate vicinity, somewhere below him. Ferret wriggled around in the shaft so he could place his feet against the screen. Keeping the gun aimed carefully away from himself, he flicked off the safety catch. At the same time, he braced his back and kicked forward with all his strength. He let his momentum carry him into the air and whipped around to aim the gun at the mall piggy. He landed gracefully on his feet, like a cat. Sure enough, the shocked security guard was right in his sights. "Hands up!" He commanded the cop. "Everyone else, down, now!"
That's when the screams started.
Ferret approached the man in uniform, glaring in what he hoped was an intimidating fashion. Keeping the gun carefully leveled at the terror stricken face, the rodent Bang Baby nicked the gun from the holster and backed away slowly. Once he was sure he was the only one in the room with a gun... Well, two guns now, he went to smash the case he wanted with the butt of the stolen gun. Even though he struck it with all his might, the glass only cracked. Ferret bared his teeth in a snarl.
"I-it's r-r-reinf-forced..." The owner stammered, daring a peek over his counter.
Of course it is, Ferret growled to himself. Why did I think this would be easy? He jerked the gun at the snobby looking man. "Then get your ass over here and unlock it." Hell, Hotstreak was intimidating when he cursed... The owner started to get up. "Hey! Keep your hands where I can see 'em!" Shouting seemed to help Hotstreak, too. Then again, Hotstreak's voice was rough and intimidating. Even Shiv's, high like it was, had just enough of a psychotic edge to it cause pause. Ferret's voice? Well, when shouting, Ferret merely sounded like his namesake, or at least a miffed squirrel. Hell, he pretty closely resembled a miffed squirrel at the moment, but this was one moment where he couldn't let himself think about this. He looked like a mutant, like a Bang Baby, and people feared Bang Babies. Let them fear him. Leave them ignorant to the fact that his powers involved little else than sniffing and running.
"E-easy, man. Just getting the k-keys..." Indeed, the keys were jingling in his right hand. The owner slowly brought his hands up from under the counter, where he had pressed a silent alarm with his left hand. At this moment, he knew, reinforcements were on the way. All he had to do was keep the deformed monster distracted long enough for them to get here. That wouldn't be long. He made his way through the little swinging door and approached the case in as non-threatening a manner as possible. This was the point at which Tess arrived.
Tess took in the scene, automatically recognizing the super-villain that had accosted her in the alley. He held two guns in trembling hands. In fact, he was trembling slightly all over and there was desperation in his eyes. He was a bundle of nerves, hardly in control. Control was the most important thing in these situations. Never lose control. Two of the dark shapes were flanking the quivering genetic anomaly. The four-legged one stretched on the counter and rolled on its back. It's scythe tipped tail flicked. Where was the third? Someone grabbed her from behind.
Tess turned slowly to gaze into Virgil's eyes. The calm in her silver orbs was absolute, and yet there was an undertone of barely contained... lust was it? Not sexual lust, though. It was more like... a hungry lust, a starving lust. "We have to go," he whispered. Tess blinked slowly and turned away from him, pushing toward the armed Bang Baby. Someone grabbed Virgil from behind. He whipped around to find Frieda.
"Tess," Frieda hissed, grabbing for her sweatshirt. "Tess, we have to go!"
Frieda? Tess froze but didn't turn around. Frieda, no! She spied the red and blue hooded males backing away and whispering to each other. Blue Hood was pointing. Tess tried to follow his finger. Then everything blew up.
Ferret smelled the other guns approaching before the shouts rang out. He closed his eyes and sighed, trying to center his frazzled nerves. So it comes down to this... His eyes sought out the other two. They were whispering to each other, melting into the background without giving him a second glance. Yes. It came down to this. His finger tightened on the trigger and he pulled in a balancing breath. He could do this. I'm fast, I'm steady. It's just like... Shooting clay pigeons, only larger and closer... And with more blood and screaming involved...
"FREEZE!"
"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"
There was the third shape. It circled the armed man, running its fingers over his face and neck. Then Tess knew, and she began working her way in that direction. One eye remained on the super-villain. He didn't even remain still for a millisecond. Before the condemned man could even finish his command, the gun was trained on him. The BANG filled the mall along with more screams. Time slowed to a crawl as the mall-cop spasmed, his mouth an 'o' of shock. The other security guard opened fire, too. Tess sucked in a deep breath, almost aroused by the sight and scent of blood. Her hands latched under the cop's armpits as he fell.
Pain enveloped his world but he was in too much shock to cry out. He'd never known what to expect if he was ever shot. Maybe he'd expected to see his life flash before his eyes. Maybe he'd expected a bright, comforting light. There was too much shock to feel much of anything, though. His heart thundered, each life giving beat bringing him closer to death. It didn't know that, though. It just did the best it could, and... The ceiling reeled into his vision as he keeled over backwards. There was sudden pressure under his armpits and he felt himself being lowered to the floor. A black hooded figure with a white face leaned over him. At first, in his disorientation, he thought it was Death. No, no, it was a teenage girl. She removed the black coverings on her hands and placed them on either side of his head. He grabbed her wrist with an unsteady, bloody hand. "... help..." He managed to gasp out. "... hel..." A breathy shushing noise escaped her lips and her eye slipped closed in a long, lazy blink. Then he was aware of a sharp, pins and needle sensation sweeping upwards from his feet. He sucked in a long, gurgling breath as her eyes slid back open. They had been replaced with two dark holes. There was a torrent of shadowy things swirling and dipping chaotically through the dark, like blackbirds caught in a hurricane. There were screams, too, far away, beyond the darkness. They were horrified screams, tortured screams, hopeless screams. There was a feeling like hooks ripping through his intestines, dredging out his soul, and he screamed. The black void sucked him in and he screamed. Hideous, rented faces, twisted and stretched by nails and wire, swam around him, and he screamed.
Tess moaned, feeling his death slide through her. Power tingled along the metal lines in her back and sent pins and needles chasing across her tattooed palms. She could do more than just sense the chaos around her, now. She could feel it, touch it, like a tangible thing. Tess rose slowly to her feet, still shaking from the rush of a new absorption. The super-villain was firing from behind the counter, now. The cashier went down and Tess could feel his life leave his body, too. She grabbed it; sucked him in kicking and screaming. Another deadly gunshot rang through the room.
Frieda grabbed Tess and looked over her shoulder at the downed man in the nice suit. "Is he..."
Tess raised her eyes, lowered her hood, and looked over her shoulder at Frieda. There was a rye smile twinkling in the soft silver depths. "Pre-dressed for his funeral."
The other teen girl giggled nervously. "Okay. Okay. Let's just go before-"
"You get hurt," Tess finished. She turned, placed a hand on her friend's back, and made to guide her away. Two shots distracted them both.
Ferret couldn't allow himself time to think about it. If he stopped to think, he feared he might lose it, like Shiv. He could turn into Shiv later, but for now he had to remain in control. He vaulted over the counter with one hand and made a smooth beeline for the target case. He fired at it twice and then kicked it over. The battered glass, even if it was reinforced, couldn't take the strain and finally shattered. Ferret snatched up his prize and set about finding a way out. For some reason, Static had yet to arrive. Good, but there was still only limited ammo in the guns. He had to haul ass before more piggies showed up. There were two girls standing near the cashier's body. One seemed more curious about the loud explosions. The other clung to the calm one as though her life depended on it. Perhaps it did, too. The girl in black smelled familiar, but he could also smell more troublesome things approaching. He aimed the gun at the girl in pink. "You," he hissed. "Step away and come here." Would he have the courage to kill her later? If he had too? Better to cross that bridge when it was reached.
Frieda... Tess scowled and pushed Frieda further behind her. She'd take a bullet for Frieda. A bullet would have been about... how had that scale worked... level four? Level five?
The sight of Ferret with the gun had thrown him off, and then the three bodies... Because he didn't have is costume, right? It was his fault. Heros couldn't take breaks. He should have known that... Virgil held his breath. Most of the people had fled. To use his powers now would be a dead give away. That and the guns were more disturbing than they probably should have been to a super-hero. But he didn't come up against guns that often! When he did... Guns meant dead mothers... Guns meant street fights and explosions... Guns meant screaming Richie in the back of an ambulance... Where was Richie? Richie would've had an idea.
Ferret's finger wavered on the trigger. Would the dark-haired one move? No. Something about her smell reminded him of something and that part of him told her she wasn't likely to move. "Move away!" He commanded again.
"Tess," Frieda whimpered. Tess gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. Frieda quivered. She could almost tell what Tess was thinking. If Ferret made one wrong move, Tess would let him have it. Frieda didn't know what she would let him have, but it wouldn't be pretty.
Ferret shot a quick glance at the other two metas. They watched the scene from across the way. Hotstreak whispered to Shiv and Shiv chuckled. Ferret snarled. He would do it. He'd give her to the count of three and just do it. "You have three seconds! One..."
Tess felt the familiar cold fire crawl up her back and down her arms, filling every piece of metal in or on her body.
"Two..."
Frieda felt Tess' rings burning her skin and winced wordlessly. Don't use the chains, Tess. It's too obvious. Don't do it...
"Three." Ferret squeezed the trigger, the resulting boom echoed, his feet left him, and he began to fall. There was no mistaking the lurch of gravity turned against him. Objects and other people around him began to fall, too, but they weren't falling down. He wasn't falling down. He was falling backwards, into the wall behind him. When he struck, his back popped and he made an 'oofing' sound. He barely recovered in time to dodge a falling display case. Glass shattered around him, piercing and slicing his exposed flesh. That didn't matter. He had his prize. He dragged himself across the wall and dropped into the hole. He scrambled away the way he had come in, leaving the guns behind. He was sick of them for the time being.
X)O(X
FATR: Well, the body count rose significantly in this chapter. /giggles/ Now, here's to the reviewers...
LadyKayoss: How nice of you to join me over here! Two thirds of the reason I put the Otto bit in now was for you, so I hope you enjoyed it. All week on Cartoon Network at 6:30 p.m., Static Shock is on, as it is on Saturday and Sunday at 8 and 8:30 in the morning. On Tuesday (June 7) there's going to be a Static Shock marathon starting at 11:30 a.m. Make it a familiar fandom, huh/wink/ See you next chip chip, I hope. Oh, and here's your hug /hug/
benny2000/laughs/ Your welcome for the hug. So, I kept my promise. What do you think/hug/ See you next chip chip, I hope.
Glamek Stalker: I read your story. Sorry I didn't review, I was being a lazy-ass that day. I honestly think it's your best piece of writing so far. I really do, I'm not just saying that. True, it was long, but so was this. There's nothing wrong with long chip chips, and there's nothing wrong with long reviews. Shiv's dream was based off a dream I had, only I think it was Batman and me wearing the head lamps. And, in case you didn't see this coming, here's your hug, too. /hug/
lt. commander richie/laughs/ Yes, I did. Thankies very much. Here's your hug. /hug/
moonjava: As I told Glamek Stalker there's nothing wrong with long reviews, I'll tell you there's nothing wrong with short reviews. You could just type 'good' or even just 'hi' if you like. I just like to know people are reading. You seem to review just about all of the stories you read. That's admirable. I only end up reviewing about half of the stories I read. Hugs for you too! Hugs all around/hugs/
Don't forget to tell me what you think of the rating. Should I raise it? Penguin Peaces!