Chapter 134: Beelzebub's Demon

The City of Townsville. Tenements. Unknown.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1915.

Another round of pursuit, of hiding and seeking, all while barely fed, thirsty, exhausted and in pain. Buttercup had thrown herself into the sewers just to get away from that even though she hated the smell. It was there that she lost the USDO and TPD. She had spotted her sisters in the distance. They were far away, but their streaks of bright pink and baby blue were impossible to miss. Blossom and Bubbles had been patrolling and looking for her, but not for long. Knowing them, Buttercup had no doubt that they were too upset to do their duty.

In the sewers, Buttercup took her time to rest, stuffing her mouth with the food she had found, but whatever she'd stolen didn't exactly hit the bottom. The only thing of substance was the beef jerkies. After missing her lunch, having chocolate and cookies for brunch and now sweets, more chocolate and beef jerkies for dinner, it'd left her feeling queasy, and it didn't make matters any better when her water canteen had ran out even before she ran away.

Buttercup was sitting by a stream of muddy water. Looking at the pitiful artificial rivulet, Buttercup couldn't help but wonder if she should drink from it. Thirst and curiosity made approaching it inevitable. Crawling over to the stream, she watched it flow. The color was off-putting, and it was cleaner than how it normally was whenever she found herself in the sewers. There was 'only' a slight shade of brown and green.

Scooping up a handful of the wastewater, she sniffed it only to retch and nearly hurl out whatever she had eaten. She rubbed the water staining her hand on her armor and groaned when she sat back down.

There was simply no other way. She would have to return to the surface for supplies and possibly fight for them too.


The City of Townsville. Suburbs. The House.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1924.

The door to the Girls' room slammed open, making Blossom jump. Bubbles would have jumped too had she been paying attention to her surroundings, but she was too busy crying in her corner with her assembly of soft toys.

"I SAID FALL IN FOR DINNER, NUMBSKULLS!" screamed the man who had just slammed the door open. It was Captain Scott, who was less than enthused about taking care of Blossom and Bubbles. With the vast majority of their caregivers gone, including Dad, Mom, Mister Blake and friends, and Alice predisposed and busy, it fell on Captain Scott to make sure their needs were met.

The ginger-haired military disciplinarian was strictly sticking to his objectives - with an emphasis on needs, with everything else discarded. He'd earlier forced glasses of water down the GIrls' throats but hadn't thought about hygiene at all. He planned to put the Girls in bed by 9 pm, forcibly.

"I SAID MOVE! DINNER, NOW, NOW, NOW!" the captain bellowed as if it was a warzone when the Girls hardly moved. With a groan, Blossom started floating down to the kitchen. When Bubbles continued weeping in her corner, the captain had to drag her out a distance before she decided to go along with his orders.

The Girls flew down to the kitchen table and sat even before they saw the food. When they did, it didn't help their appetite at all. It was basically military rations that the captain pre-heated in the microwave, and this time, it came in the form of sticky rice with various beans, vegetables, and bits of unidentifiable meat, all mixed up into some kind of salad.

Eating became slow, arduous torture, made worse by unfamiliar armed guards watching them taking every single bite as if it was a sport.

Twenty minutes went by this way, and they still had a ways to go before their plates were clear, which was the only result Captain Scott had insisted upon repeatedly throughout the 'force-feeding'.

"Taking your sweet time, kids?" the captain said menacingly as he watching with glaring eyes how the Girls were chewing on their food as slowly as a cow would casually go through its patch of grass.

"But it tastes horrible!" Blossom objected.

"It's food, so EAT! And eat faster!" the captain yelled. At this point, Blossom couldn't help but wonder if Captain Scott was punishing them for something. She had often seen Captain Scott and Mom talk. Was he mad because of what had happened to Mom days ago?

When the Powerpuff Hotline started ringing throughout The House, it was a relief more than anything. The world wouldn't cease to be a twisted place, and it'd continued to twist and turn since.

"I'll take it," the captain growled before walking towards the nearest Powerpuff Hotline phone. "Don't stop eating your rations!" Blossom sunk back into her chair, defeated. She watched as Captain Scott approached the phone, picked it up roughly, and answered gruffly.

"This is Captain Scott, PTF security detail Charlie squad," he introduced himself to whoever it was on the other end of the line. "Then why're you calling this number?"

The captain paused as he listened.

"That's no excuse, sir. You could've called her private number, or The House phone. Right. Very well. Yes, sir," he hung up after that. Blossom's own curiosity was killing her. It didn't sound like the usual call. It didn't even sound like their help was needed. Her heart pounded as Captain Scott approached her.

"Provisionary-Lieutenant Blossom," the captain greeted her with her name and rank for the first time. It was odd and awkward, all the more when the captain had lowered and softened his tone. What's going on? "It was Medical Director Simmons. He's cleared you to visit your, urm, 'Dad'."


The City of Townsville. Tenements. Unknown.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1940.

Buttercup had tried wandering the nasally unfriendly sewers in search of clearer water to drink but to no success. She'd found out very quickly that there was only muck to be had in the lower levels, and even at the drains just below street level, the water was still undrinkable, and she'd actually tasted some. While the melting snow from the streets didn't have the taste of piss and feces, it'd given her an impression of how the piss-poor streets of the Tenements tasted like, and it wasn't much of an improvement from the lower levels.

It'd led her to the only possible course of action. Breaking out from the far side of the Tenements, she began searching for water when the police sirens died down. She didn't want to ply her new trade in the alleys again, but a close call with a couple of cops walking the beat had forced her into the nearest one.

She went deeper, deeper into the darkness like never before. Along the way, she harassed bums and punks alike for water, but quite surprisingly, none of them had it.

It was only deeper into this labyrinth of grime and filth that she found what she came for.

There was a singular homeless bum warming himself beside a fiery oil drum. He had his back turned as Buttercup floated stealthily towards him. She could even see what he was made of. Long, gray hair. A beanie full of holes, a tattered trenchcoat likely discarded by someone far richer - a lucky find for someone like him.

She was only a couple of yards away when he turned to give her a sideways glance. The weird thing was, he wasn't even afraid or shocked to find the one and only Buttercup right behind him. Just her glowing green eyes alone were enough to scatter a whole gang of hardened street punks.


The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO HQ.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1951.

Blossom and Bubbles had to hover their way through several security checkpoints, in nothing but their everyday dresses. It'd reminded her of the Amoeba Boys' arrangements, but the USDO had proven to be far kinder when Bossman had revealed his ugly side.

They were chauffeured by Captain Scott himself to the HQ in a huge motorcade. He'd told them exactly why he wanted them just in their everyday dresses. With Buttercup on the loose, he didn't trust them with weapons, a sentiment Blossom found silly, as guns, by now, were neither their most dangerous nor versatile weapons anymore. At this point, guns were only emergency weapons, to be used when they were under the effects of Anti-X, for example.

At the final security checkpoint, they met Doctor Simmons. Captain Scott had gone off the moment they did.

"If it isn't the little cupcakes," the doctor greeted them with that usual grandfatherly warmness. If there was anyone who could fill the role of a grandparent, it was him. "I see that one cupcake has been taken off the plate…"

Doctor Simmons' comment had confused Blossom and Bubbles (especially Bubbles) at first, but Blossom eventually got it.

"Buttercup ran away after she…" Blossom said, but a sudden surge of both anger and sadness cut her sentence short.

"No matter. She's out of our hands now, but I hope our boys out there will be able to reel her in- Alive, I mean," Doctor Simmons said, with Blossom and Bubbles listening patiently, something that was hard for little children, but the doctor managed to catch their attention.

The doctor led them to the ward where Professor Utonium was held in. They could see him immediately through the window, especially when they were pressing their faces into the glass so hard the doctor was afraid they might crack the glass. Doctor Simmons had to hurry them through the entrance into the ward to prevent that.

One after the next, Blossom and Bubbles practically and literally flew to the professor and sat them on his bed, each taking an arm. He'd been asleep despite the constant beeping following the rhythm of his heart, but the Girls had woken him up.

The doctor caught up with them a while after that. His age had caught up with him first.

"Your father's fine," the doctor said while panting. "I think it takes a lot more than a few hairline fractures in the ribs and jaw to take your father down. He's a tough guy, and the two of you are truly his daughters."The last part wasn't a total lie.

"Girls…" the professor moaned. "It's… so good to see you…"

"We missed you, Dad," Blossom said, tearing up.

"It's so different without you," caught between her tears and her semi-literacy, Bubbles struggled to express herself.

"W-where's Buttercup?" Dad said. He rolled his eyes shut; breathing was still a little painful.

"She's… gone, Dad," Blossom said.

"Gone? What do you mean 'gone'?" the professor said as he winced in pain. His hand shot up to grip Blossom in the arm. "Blossom, please. Please tell me she's fine!"

"She ran away, Dad," Bubbles filled in for Blossom, who was more than shocked, not just because of Dad's reaction, but the fact that he still cared about Buttercup even though she'd nearly killed him. Blossom could still remember the slit in the wall carved by Buttercup's ocular laser beams. Another foot and it would have been his head. Buttercup had meant to kill Dad, she surely did!

"Blossom, listen to me…" the professor said weakly. "I know you, and I know you're angry and upset-" The professor stopped to breathe, shivering in pain as he did. "Buttercup's your sister, she always will be. That will never change!"

"She tried to kill you!" Blossom couldn't help but shout.

"No," the professor swiftly spoke up, but it was causing him pain. "She could have, but she didn't-" He stopped briefly once more, but pushed himself to continue. "It- it's proof that she cares about us even though she-" the professor paused, though this time it was due to the topic.

"Even though she's messed up inside?" Blossom surmised.

"Yes," the professor said. He forced himself to sit up, wrapping both hands around Blossom's arms. "Please- Blossom, if you can- please! Find her, protect her! She's- she's in danger, I know it. The USDO! They'd kill her if she doesn't return!"

Doctor Simmons reacted swiftly for someone his age, preserved by next-generation medicine though he was. Rushing up to the professor, he lowered him back down to his bed to prevent the professor from overstraining himself and causing himself too much pain.

"Girls, I think visiting hours are over," the doctor said.

"But- but- we were just here-" Blossom said, but was interrupted quickly by a nurse who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Listen to the doctor, kids," the nurse snapped. She was the same one who had attended to the professor back when he had fallen unconscious due to sickness last year; an old matron who looked like she had seen a lifetime's worth of war. "Agitating your father isn't going to help him with his recovery!"

"The two of you will get to see him again soon, I suspect," Doctor Simmons said while he was practically picking the Girls up and carrying them away. Halfway across the room, they began hovering their way out after they'd gotten the hint. Together, they left the professor's ward, led by the doctor.

Only, he wasn't taking them towards the way they came. They were going in the opposite direction.

"Where are we going?" Blossom asked.

"Are we going to see Mom next?" Bubbles guessed. Though Selicia was gone, dead, the enhanced Girl thought, there were moments when she would expect her to walk through the door. For all her Mom's shortcomings, Bubbles actually missed her for the good she did, being the kind of Girl who would turn the other cheek when slapped.

"No, I'm afraid," Doctor Simmons said. Bubbles had thought that that was the end of that, but he went on: "We're here to see someone else."

The Girls looked through the window of the next ward and very nearly broke it too.

It was Mister Blake.


The City of Townsville. Tenements. Unknown.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1958.

Buttercup couldn't stop drinking, savoring the water that came out of the bottle the bum she'd bumped into had traded away. Taking gulp after gulp, she had been enjoying the life-sustaining liquid over minutes, as though it was an expensive glass of wine. All this was happening while she was sitting beside the rusty oil drum that doubled as a fireplace.

The bum was leaning against the brick wall, watching her with a pair of hawk-like eyes, grinning. Peeling the wrappers off a chocolate bar which he had gotten in exchange of his bottle of water, he took a bite out of it.

When Buttercup was contented, she closed the bottle of water, saving half of it and squirreling it away into the pouch on her back. Her attention fell upon the bum. There was something about the man she didn't quite get. He didn't look like a homeless person at all. He was far too confident, his beard and mustache too orderly, too well-trimmed. His red scarf was new, even if the rest of his attire wasn't. The bites he took out of her chocolate bar weren't big, and he was taking his time eating it.

Most telling of all, he wasn't afraid of her.

"Who are you?" Buttercup asked. She pulled her leather jacket close all around her to keep her heat in and ward off the cold

"Me? I am no one," the man said cryptically. "But you- you're certainly someone."

"What are you talking about?" Buttercup asked. She would have normally flown into a rage by now, but she was kept from it by her confusion.

"And someone's looking for you," the man revealed, opening the door of Buttercup's understanding only slightly.

"Who?"

"Tell me, do you dream of him? Have you taken the blood of the sacrificed from Ishtar?" the bum asked, and those were some very specific questions that reminded Buttercup of her other venture into the sewers.

"That was disgusting!" Buttercup retorted. "I'm never drinking that stuff ever again!"

"And you'll never have to… assuming you won't grow to like it," the man said immediately after Buttercup as if this was all rehearsed. He was way too confident for a bum. "Do you dream of… Him?" The man had emphasized 'Him'.

"Y-yes, I guess…" Buttercup said. It had become routine, in fact. Every night, she would be visited by a strange creature with red skin, glowing eyes, a goatee, with claws for hands. She couldn't even begin to describe the creature's manner of clothing. It was frightening at first, but she gradually got used to him.

"He's coming," the man revealed. "He'll be here. You should rest while you wait."


The City of Townsville. Downtown. USDO HQ.

20 MAR (Monday) 1989. 1958.

When Blossom and Bubbles saw Mister Blake, they cried. They had thought that he was dead for days. Instead, he'd been here all along, stuck in his ward. It had been days ago when it happened, but he still looked horrible. He was naked save for a pair of loose panties. There was gauze and bandages wherever he had been shot, and he had been shot numerous times, all over. There were three wounds on his chest, one in his stomach, another in his shoulder, and one in his thigh.

Why were the people around them so vulnerable? It was something the Girls couldn't understand. How people could live lives that could easily be ended by a single bullet, they had no idea. But what they did understand was how sad it made them feel, how vulnerable it made them too, even if they themselves could easily survive an artillery shell to the face.

Blossom approached Blake, hearing the constant beeping of his heart. His chest was heaving up and down slowly. Whether he was unconscious or asleep, Blossom couldn't tell. She landed on Blake's bed, sitting down beside him. Bubbles sat beside Blossom, putting an arm around her shoulders, leaning on her, both of them sniffling and trying their best not to howl and scream at the unfairness of it all.

"I must apologize, Girls," Doctor Simmons said as he came up behind them. "For not informing both of you of his condition. He's been struggling for the past few days. It was only recently that he's stable. He wasn't even conscious until a few hours ago. He's resting now, and resting well."

"I can't say the same for half his squad, unfortunately," Doctor Simmons went on. "It couldn't be helped. I'm sorry."

"You mean-" Bubbles squicked, afraid of what he might mean.

"Fields, Holliday, Zach, Rutherland… They couldn't be helped."

"Oh…" Bubbles breathed a sigh of defeat and resignation. "Poor Mister Blake."

"Why, Mister Simmons?" Blossom asked, tearful.

"I beg your pardon?" the doctor asked, unsure of what she was asking about.

"Why is everyone I care about so easy to hurt?" Blossom asked again.

"I ask myself that question almost every day," the doctor said, his mind wandering briefly before snapping back to the present. "It's always been this way, dear until we're blessed with you and your sisters." He came up next to the Girls to put his hands on their shoulders.

"But how could people live like this?" Bubbles cried, her voice high-pitched. "How could they smile and laugh so much when all it takes is just a few bullets to k- ki-" Bubbles couldn't even finish her sentence when she burst into tears full-on, crying her heart out.

The doctor sighed. Human mortality was the main subject of his trade, and he knew exactly what the Girls were talking about.

"It's precisely because of this that we smile and laugh so much…" the doctor said softly, squeezing the Girls' little shoulders gently. They were firm and hard, more so than that of normal children, a subtle reminder of how much power was behind those prepubescent muscles.

For all their extraordinary Chemical X enhancements, their ability to handle stress, emotions, and the trials of life wasn't any better than an ordinary human being.

"I don't understand," Blossom said while wiping tears away.

"When something could be taken away so easily, we learn to cherish it more," the doctor explained. "We know how easy it is to die, that's why we live life to the fullest. It's why we fight so hard to preserve it."

What the doctor said brought back memories. Bunny. Mom. Everyone they'd killed in the line of duty they barely understood. Dad's teachings.

"Are we monsters, Mister Simmons?" Blossom said, looking back at him.

"Monsters don't cry," the doctor simply said. "Blossom, Bubbles, I think the both of you understand the fragility of life and the pain of death better than anyone, more than I'd like, to be honest. You're probably some of the kindest, most understanding children I've ever known."

"Really?" Bubbles sniffled. Blossom, however, doubted that, on account of her secret with the Amoeba Boys.

"I've lied countless times, but this is not one of those times. I've met hundreds of little rascals before," the doctor laughed, true to his words. "And none of them could ever come close to the two of you."

Blake's heart monitor continued beeping.

"Come, I think it's time we leave Mister Blake alone, eh?" the doctor said, gently tugging at Blossom and Bubbles. "He'll be up and about in no time if I know him well enough. Besides, there's frozen yogurt in the mess hall today that I suspect the two of you will like."

Still wiping away tears, Blossom still could not bear to leave Mister Blake alone, but she knew she had to listen to the doctor. But before she left, she undid the watch on her wrist and placed it in Blake's hand, closing his fingers around them.

It was the same watch he'd given her. Blossom remembered what Mister Blake had said, all those months ago.

Time heals all wounds. But there was never a time, with so many of her friends and family gone, that Blossom had doubted the adage more.