A/N: Hello, fanfics, and I am back with another chapter, which I had finished and kept under wraps until it was time. Now, sit back and enjoy.

Disclaimer: Repeat after me: I do not own Killer Instinct, nor Carrie.

Honking cars filled the twisting streets of New York City. Traffic lights flashed in a frenzied pattern but had no effect. An array of lights and towers filled the sky, all amidst the dense fog. In bright neon, the words "Ultratech" flashed in one building.

The CEO sat alone in her office, musing. Gold and light gray metals adorned her feminine frame. In dreadlocks, alloy strips extended from the back of her head. Her chin rested on her folded hands.

Aside from the steady humming, the office was quiet until the door opened. A fiery humanoid appeared, covered in lava-like plasma. Fire ribbons swirled around the creature like solar flares.

"I don't recall giving you permission to enter, Cinder." The CEO's voice was robotic and grating. She sensed Cinder sneering at her despite the neutral mask concealing his face. He approached a nearby computer with a dismissive scoff.

"Have you seen the news, ARIA?" Cinder's voice sounded like a furnace.

"Be more specific."

"There's a story on a school massacre in Chamberlain, Maine." Cinder typed into a keyboard. "The report claims that a student used her mind to move objects and kill people."

ARIA perked from the news. "Play footage of this event."

"Already on it."

After Cinder pressed the last key, a giant TV lowered from the ceiling. A reporter was standing outside a burned school when the screen switched on. Yellow tape surrounded the area as detectives scoured for evidence.

"I'm here at Thomas Ewen High School, site of the iconic 'Black Prom.' Police found a camera that captured the event on May 25, 2013. This footage may be disturbing, so viewer discretion is advised."

The video showed a young woman with red highlights on her blonde hair. Her bluish-grey eyes shone as she smiled, and her pink dress hugged her body.

A blonde-haired boy was next to the woman on stage when a pool of blood dowsed them. Although some spilled on the boy, his date received the full brunt.

"What started as a harmless prank turned awry. 16-year-old Carrie White fell victim to a vicious trick," a dramatic voice said. Laughter surged from the speakers until a container fell and struck the boy. "Her date, Tommy Ross, is a suspect in the stunt. According to autopsy reports, the bucket was the supposed cause of death."

Cinder scratched his head. "How can a pail kill someone? Really?" He snorted a little. "Talk about a stupid way to die."

"What happens next is stunning," the speaker continued as Carrie faced the crowd. She lifted her arms to each side as blood floated from her skin, ceasing the laughter. Once she screamed, an invisible force sent the audience flying in all directions. "Carrie locked the Prom-goers inside the gym to attack her tormentors." The screen pointed at Carrie, who threw a table, ending the video.

"Okay, that deserves an Academy Award for 'Scariest Shit,'" Cinder said.

"Call the units to my office," ARIA said. "I have a mission for them. Ms. Grady will take charge."

"Are you sure? I've seen those X-Men movies, and don't get me started on Chronicle."

"Telekinesis has been a mystery for millennia." ARIA crossed her hands, leaning back in her seat. "I yearn for the secrets it possesses."

Rain poured from the sky as Chamberlain began the slow progress to recovery. Cracked roads and scorched buildings were among the damage. Two steel-clad trucks bearing the Ultratech logo drove into the town. Their first stop was Carlin Street, where the ruins of Carrie's house remained.

Armed soldiers emerged from the vehicles. They taped off the area and waved off any curious civilians. The men in white HAZMAT suits and combat androids soon appeared, bringing strange tools. While the scientists took readings with a Geiger counter, a soldier cleared his throat.

"Ma'am," he said, distorted by the gas mask. "A police officer is asking questions about our activities. She wants us to leave."

"I'll handle this." The scientist followed the soldier to the officers' vehicle. One wore a yellow hooded poncho, while the other sported a black parka. The scientist removed her mask and hood, revealing dark glasses and a grey bob haircut.

The officer in the yellow poncho crossed her arms. "Are you the person in charge?"

"Yes. I am Professor Grady." The scientist shook hands with her. "Is there a problem?"

"Officer King, and yes. That is a restricted plot. What are you doing here?"

"We are with the Department of Health and Safety. We're surveying the places affected by Black Prom." Grady unzipped her suit, taking out her wallet along with some papers. She handed them to the police officer. "Here is my ID and our court order and permit."

Officer King inspected the paperwork as her lips pressed into a line. "What's with the soldiers?"

"That's top secret."

"Hm." Officer King stepped into her vehicle. Grady waited while the officer checked the paperwork. King emerged from her car a few minutes later and approached the scientist. "Alright, everything appears to be in order." She handed the documents to Grady. "However, I doubt you'll find anything here. If you're looking for something to research, try Town Hall. Have a pleasant day."

The police officers returned to King's vehicle and continued their patrol.

"Carol, you will not believe this!" a colleague called out, holding a device. "I had finished measuring the readings for psionic waves. It is off the charts!"

"What does this mean?" the soldier beside her asked.

Grady flattened her lips as she put her hood and mask back on. "We may not be dealing with a run-of-the-mill telekinetic. Continue as planned, captain. Prepare your unit to move out soon. Town Hall will be our next stop."

The captain saluted, then shouted orders to the troops. The analysts collected their evidence and cleaned the area. They hopped inside the trucks and left, unaware of a figure spying from the shadows.

The hidden cameras on each can recorded the wreckage hours into the drive. Inside, the researchers spoke with each other.

"Man, the sheer damage. It's like a tornado passed through here," one remarked. "A single girl did all this?"

Another person wrote notes on a clipboard. "From what the reports have gathered."

The speaker, a young man with brown hair, shook his head. "How does ARIA expect us to contain this? We're struggling enough to keep the other freaks in check. Hell, we're still recovering from that 'Hisako' incident!"

Grady removed her HAZMAT suit. "We'll manage somehow."

As they arrived at a corner, reporters lingered by the entrance like vultures. Law enforcement was also present to preserve order.

After ordering her team to remain discreet, Grady departed. As the vans left, she adjusted her navy blazer, white blouse, and khaki pants. After passing through the reporters, a police officer inspected her. Contented, the officer granted her access to the building.

Grady strolled inside with a purpose, ignoring the surrounding journalists. She followed several people into a spacious room and sat on a chair. She jotted down notes once the committee began and listened to each speaker.

"Ms. Snell, you understand that you're making these shocking claims."

"I'm aware, Mr. Chairman."

"Isn't it possible that what you saw was a natural act?"

In the back, Grady eyed the timid form of Sue Snell. The girl's tired eyes shimmered as if she hadn't received a good night's sleep. Her cheeks were black with tears, even though she suppressed them.

"My boyfriend and my friends died that night!" Sue shouted into the microphone. "I know what I saw! Despite her abilities, Carrie… wasn't a monster. She was a scared young girl with no friends. That night, though, she reached her limit, resulting in that… power coming out. I… hate her for what had happened. Logic is telling me not to blame her, but my heart does. Still, I blame myself for not standing up for her. If I had acted sooner… none of this would've happened."

With the committee finished, Grady stepped outside the room. While reviewing her notes, she spotted Sue on a bench. After checking to ensure no one was around, she approached the young woman. "That was a striking statement, Ms. Snell."

Sue narrowed her eyes toward the woman.

"My name is Professor Carol Grady. I'm with the Department of Health and Safety." She opened her wallet, showing the teenager her ID.

Convinced of its contents, Sue relaxed, though a frown remained. "The committee is a joke." Her voice was bitter. "They even had the gall to imply I was crazy! Wretched bastards, all of them."

"Your piece impressed me." Grady inclined her head in a single, solemn nod. "My deepest sympathies for your loss."

The young woman wiped her eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Grady cleared her throat. "Ms. Snell, I understand you have been through a lot these past few days. However, can you come in to speak with me when you have free time?"

Sue furrowed her brows. "Why? I reported everything to the police."

"It's to clarify some things." Grady drew a card and held it out in offering. "If you have any information about Carrie White, here's my card. We'll be in touch."

Sue grabbed the business card, examining its contents. "Ultratech?" The woman vanished as she lifted her head, leaving her with a business card. Sue slipped the card into her pocket and headed for the exit. She pushed past news anchors as they pounced on those emerging from the building.

Fresh air filled her lungs once she stepped outside. Across the clouds, a quiet rumble spread. Shivering, she adjusted the black wool beanie wrapped around her head. A midnight blue jacket concealed her black blouse, matching her dark gray slacks. Sue raised her sable umbrella to stay dry as the rain poured for round two.

Sue first stopped by a local floral shop, buying two red roses and one white rose. Later, she strolled through the near-empty town until she reached Memorial Park. Her eyes lingered on the graves of her fallen peers as she walked past them.

When she approached a headstone named "Christina C. Hargensen," Sue's hands tightened around the umbrella handle. I hope you burn in Hell for what you've done, bitch. You, your boyfriend and your gang.

Sue resumed her stroll, observing the markers of friends, classmates, and teachers. Along the way, she found a lonely mound that brought tears to her eyes. Even in death, Carrie was kept separate from the rest. As Sue approached the tombstone, she gasped at the angry red words.

"CARRIE WHITE BURNS IN HELL."

Sue placed her hand over her mouth as heat flushed around her face and neck. She fought back the tears threatening to leave her eyes. Dirty, fucking bastards. Whoever did this should be run over. As she placed the white rose beside the grave, a voice with a French accent reached her ears.

"It's a shame, no?"

Sue glanced over her shoulder as a man approached her, his form tall and wiry. Rain pattered his flaxen hair, dripping falling from the tips. His navy raincoat hid a blue shirt accented with beige suede jeans and matching shoes. In his hands was a bouquet of chrysanthemums shaped into a wreath. He shook his head at the headstone.

"How could someone be so cruel? The lack of respect in humanity never ceases to amaze me."

Sue narrowed her eyes. "Do I know you?"

"No, I'm here to pay my respects, miss. You were at the Town Hall, right? You were giving the witness account on the stand."

A frown appeared on her face. Oh, fuck. "If you're another reporter—"

The man raised his hands in protest. "I'm not a reporter, I swear!"

"A police officer? Who are you?"

"Just a tourist passing through."

"So you thought this would be the perfect photo opportunity for your scrapbook? Are you one of those freaks that take selfies at haunted places or whatever?"

"No!"

"Leave before I call the police!"

"No, mademoiselle, you misunderstand me! I'm no thrill-seeker, I swear! Everyone's been talking about the Black Prom incident and, well…."

"What?"

"I only want to pay my respects to the victims. That's all. I swear on my mother's grave."

Sue's eyes lingered on him until she shifted her attention to Carrie's headstone. They stared side-by-side, neither of them saying anything nor did they move. A few minutes later, her eyes and shoulders drooped. "I… I should've done more to help Carrie. This is Chris's fault. Because of her, Carrie's dead…." She licked her dry lips, her eyes tearing up. "…and my kid will grow up without a dad."

The man raised his head. "You have a child?"

Sue nodded. "I'm expecting."

"Congratulations." The man studied her. "You don't appear to be expecting."

Tears threatened to spill as her face scrunched up. "Carrie had-had confirmed it when I came to her house after… oh, Christ!" Sue fell to her knees. She covered her face with her hands, her body wracked and shaking with deep sobs.

The man patted her shoulder, comforting her. "Don't blame yourself, ma chérie. A part of your beloved will live through your child. He'll always be with you. You're also doing something kind for Carrie. Such people use the time to show their capacity for kindness. The world could use more of that."

Sue wiped her eyes, sniffling. "Th-thank you, Mister…?"

"Jean. My name is Jean."

"Thank you, Jean. I'm sorry for breaking down like that."

"Don't be, ma chérie. It is fine to cry."

As they shifted their attention to the headstone, they bowed, paying their respects.

"Well, I should go." Sue adjusted her coat and raised her umbrella. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Same to you. I'm sorry for your loss."

Sue nodded and headed to the entrance of the graveyard.

Once she departed, Jean shifted back to the gravestone. He closed his eyes and exhaled. What a shame. He reached for his cell phone and snapped a photo of the headstone. Before sending it, he typewrote, "Orchid, I found Carrie's gravesite. You won't like it."

After sending the image, he set the garland beside the headstone. Jean lowered his head to pay his final respects before taking his leave.

A/N: Uh-oh, it looks like Ultratech is stirring trouble, and the search for Carrie is on. Time to let my brain rest, so I'll see you later.