Going To Hell (Shadow Stalker)

'Puta. That Jason Voorhees fucker called me puta. I've been called that before, during track practice at that daycare full of milksops Winslow High, and someone once told me it meant crazy bitch in mexican.'

A crowbar passes through me, the idiot close enough to tap the side of my boot as he got in a slugger's stance. The leather palms of my gloves cupped against his ears turns the Casey Jones wannabe into another trampled body. I don't even bother using my weapon, better to be jamming the tranq bolts into the juiciest places tagging these street animals for arrest later.

Shifting forms when the animals want to pet me back, I let Dogfight wade into the mob. Idiot takes enough hits he turns back into his breaker form. Assault charges in but uses kids gloves with these Merchants. We're meant to fight other capes, not the citizens, they tell The Wards. I don't fall for their bullshit.

'So I'm the crazy one, when he's put zero thought into how to use his powers and he's supposed to have my back on this patrol? I've got more experience running around on my own before the PRT jammed me in the ball pit at Chuck E. fuckin' Cheese.'

The wall of scumbags I passed through a minute ago gets their shit together and it breaks up to join the piñata party on Dogfight and Assault. I fractured a jaw with a high kick, turned it into an axe kick and broke the ankle of the nearest asshole sporting tattoos and piercings for eyebrows. In nature, animals use colored pattern displays to ward off predators, to me it's just a target for a hard elbow to their face.

I leapt into the air, let the wind push my breaker form over to the truck. The blue skinned cape changing the tire stood up, stomped the gutter water to her side and formed a spear of ice when she grasped at the water that shot up.

'Goddammit, why do the rogues and villains always seem to have their shit together?'

I already had my crossbow trained on the archer standing up from the driver's side of the truck and I held another tranq dart out like a dagger pointed at the ice cape.

"The hell you want, five oh?" she said behind the tip of her spear.

'Five oh?'

I sneered at the lack of appreciation, "Hello!? My patrol is holding off your gangbang flashmob, how about hurrying up with the tire already or did you break a nail?"

The green freak job in front of the truck that actually did something that resembled fighting piped up, "We do not have anything capable of giving the rear tires traction to get out of the broken section of road."

'I take it all back about Rogues and Villains, everyone sucks. This city deserves to be overrun with rapists, terrorists, and charity phone scammers.'

"Assault", I raised my voice over the pained grunts and invectives of the Merchants.

The Protectorate member did his level best not to crack skulls or snap vertebrae as his kinetic fueled strikes parted the mob and sprinted toward me, "What were you even thin-"

"Truck needs a push, a big one," I interrupt another useless scolding and gesture at the supply truck.

Assault paused, glanced back at the gang dealing with Dogfight and Silicate, "Help him out… please?"

'Begging? Eugh. I'll just blame that stupid bastard with the half assed name and no costume. Piggot won't believe it but everyone else will give it half a chance, collectively they'll put their trust in me - set a good example by giving me my nth chance especially after that bug bitch saw my face. I gave my all at that Endbringer fight and my goddamn reward was failure by the PRT and The Protectorate to protect me - my identity. A debt is owed and I'll take it from Mr. Kid-But-Not-A-Ward.'

Something shoved me hard and onto my back, mud caked onto my costume. A moment later a brick arced down behind me and broke up into three smaller pieces near my head. That something was Dogfight solidified from his dusty form. He offered me a hand up and I slapped it away. With a grunt I launch myself up into a crouch from the muddy street.

He was different after he pushed me into the mud. His breaker form worked like a strobe light, he appeared for a fraction of a second to steal a Merchant's weapon or cause one to double over or collapse. The fight went out of the mob as the moron dealt phantom blows on his next follow up pass, this time even faster.

'Finally, the stupid punk ass kid is learning something useful.'

The sound of the truck engine revving and heavy metal creaking broke my train of thought. Assault had shoved the truck and the ice cape climbed in the passenger side as it pulled away. The glass monster waved goodbye before it charged and threw itself into the back of the truck. I spared a glance back at the mob and there stood the new kid, his costume torn, the white plastic mask cracked and marred; his gloves dripped with sweat and blood.

'Hmm.'

Then he made the mistake to speak up, "Hey, Shadow Stalker, look I was just up to here with you earlier but I was outta li-"

I cut him off, sentiments unnecessary and dangerously close to losing the one shred of respect he just earned, "I'm not crazy."

Dogfight stepped closer, "Huh?"

"You called me a crazy bitch in mex- in Spanish."

He chuffed, "Nah, I said bitch in Spanish. Crazy is loca. You're not crazy but anyone's gotta be loco to go at you in a straight fight. You're definitely an ambush kinda target."

"Alright, enough of that. Communicate, don't just shove someone when they can just let things pass through them."

"Sure, got it."

I shook my head and then peeked back at Assault, who was on comms probably giving details on what happened and requesting emergency services for the remaining wounded.

'Still going to blame Dogfight for this but how he handles shit rolling down hill... there could definitely be potential.'

~~x