Hey y'all! Miss me? Sonia's up! But first…

Comments!

Zosonils: Really? Well I'm very glad you think that. Because every single time I sit down to write action scenes, I dread it so much… Not sure why. So many people tell me I do a good job at them, but hey. Hardest person to please is yourself, right? Sonic, Sonia, and Manic are not going to meet for quite a while...sorry to disappoint. There's a bunch of backstory and things to get out in stone and clear up. Blaze is afraid of heights? Huh… I never knew that. Cool! Glad you like Sonic. (and I like how you write Sonic as well. Doing really good job on 'Tales of Origin'.) Thanks for the review!

juancastri11: I'm glad you think that. Did you enjoy Manic?

Quantum27: edgy...but no personality? I think that's the first time I have heard that description. I usually just think: no contractions, dead serious all the time, hates nicknames, and pretends to not care but actually does. (; It works about 90% of the time… I hate heights, but I am also scared of the fall, not the actual height. Hate airplanes because of it...also zip lines, stepladders, footstools...you get the idea. I'm thinking Knuckles will be the same. Can't wait to write that. Not sure about the whole 'Robotnik's son'... Definitely not that horrid alien thing from Archie comics. We'll see.

Autumn: Glad to see you're alive! I'm so happy you are enjoying the story.

What in Chaos is Sofia up too right now? We have not one, but two fight scenes up ahead… yay. (That was sarcastic.) Well get ready for some more action and a new side of Sonia that you haven't seen yet. Hold onto your hats! This is going to get crazy.

Action!

Recommended Song: She's So Gone by Naomi Scott

Sofia's POV:

It took a week for me to reach my destination: Westopolis. Why Westopolis? Well… I just had a funny feeling that my brother had been- or was- here at this city.

Also, I needed a break from the bus. I mean, one can only stand sleeping in a chair for so long. I required at least one night of sleep in a literal bed and no one was going to take that from me.

So with very little reluctance, I managed to snag a cheap motel room for the night. True, the bed probably wasn't the cleanest and I didn't want to know what the stain on the carpet was from, but… Oh, who am I kidding, it was the most vile room I'd ever stepped foot in, let alone slept in.

With a small sigh, I put my bags on top of the dusty comforter. If someone had walked in, the look on my face would have probably chased them out in a second. It took all my strength to not throw up.

When I find Manic, I'm going to kill himfor putting me through this...

With that happy thought, I quickly got ready for bed and fell into a semi-restless sleep (I first dropped by a store and bought a clean blanket to sleep with. You couldn't pay me to sleep on those filthy sheets.)

First stop on my personal tour of Westopolis: the police station. And boy, was it busy.

Officers were marching around with paperwork in hand, scrambling to meet their deadlines. A small squadron of men and Mobians rushed out the front door to some squad cars and the sounds of the sirens were soon heard as they drove to answer a call. The sound of a man's infuriated shout could be heard from deep in the station as he tried to be heard over the bustle of people.

But my focus was on the front desk. A mole Mobian was on the phone speaking with a concerned citizen and a small rabbit was busy typing away on a laptop.

"Um… Excuse me, I-"

"Look, Miss Rivers, this is the third time you have called about your neighbors across the hall this week alone. And as I have said before-"

I mentally ignored the mole and turned to the rabbit, "Excuse me, but I-"

She held up a hand and picked up a radio. "Bobby, come deal with a visitor at the front desk." She motioned for me to sit down on one of the chairs near the door. "Wait here."

Well, this place certainly needs a lesson in customer service. I thought a bit disgruntled.

Five minutes later, a spotted dog with a clean uniform and a tired smile on his face came out from the back. Unlike most of the other officers in this station, he looked rather friendly and his face seemed to brighten slightly at the sight of me. He tipped his hat to me slightly, "Morning, Miss. I'm Officer Bobby Spot, at your service." He spoke with a heavy accent. "And your name is…?"

"Sofia. Sofia Hedgehog." I allowed a small smile to twitch to life.

Officer Spot leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. "Sorry about Barbara and Phil. I honestly don't know how they got their jobs, let alone keep them."

My smile grew. "So it's not just me that they're rude to? That's a relief." I said sarcastically. Bobby chuckled and asked me what he could do for me.

"I'm looking for my brother. Do you have any records of a 'Manic Hedgehog' on file?" I asked as politely as I could.

Bobby gave a small frown. "I'll have to look and see. How long ago was this?"

"The last time I saw him was about six years ago."

"Mmm… follow me." He waved his hand in a 'this way' gesture. A bit timidly, I trailed after him deeper into the station. We didn't walk long until Bobby stopped at a door. He unlocked it with one of the keys on his chain and creaked it open, showing me into the room.

The whole room was enormous metal file cabinets. And I mean the whole room. Every wall was lined and stuffed with cabinet after cabinet. In the center of the room were a few short rows of cabinets and a small desk for reading the actual files.

"What did you say his name was?" asked Officer Spot as he started riffling through the files.

"Manic." I said, then re-thought my answer. "Well, um… this might sound weird, but I don't actually know what name he goes by these days. Either Manic or Matthews. Matthews Hedgehog."

The dog froze at those words, stooped over a cabinet. "...Matthews?"

"Um…" I frowned slightly, not exactly sure how I felt about his tone. "...Yes?"

Without another word, he walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a drawer. Out came one of the thickest folders I'd ever seen in my life. He placed it on the table and opened it. "Is this him?"

In confused shock I stared down at a mug shot of my brother, a little older than when he left the house. He looked a little nervous, but had this big goofy grin on his face like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. His bright blue eyes still shone with that familiar glint of mischief and the dark gray hoodie he wore was threadbare and torn.

"Y-yes. This is him." My hands shook slightly. This was almost too good- or bad- to be true. After only a week of searching, I already had a lead. Unfortunately, that lead was looking very, very, bad. "He was arrested?"

Bobby snorted, shaking with laughter. "You have no idea. I don't think I've seen my wife as often as I saw him back then." He motioned for me to sit down in a folding chair. "That kid had a nose for trouble."

"A-are you sure you're not exaggerating?" I asked, my voice rising a pitch.

The officer sat down across from me and pushed Matthew's file towards me. "Well, at first, it was just little crimes. Stealing purses, wallets, you know. Then he started getting into bigger things- cons, burglaries, and of course some… violent incidents. Add that to his gang activity and-"

"He's part of a gang?" I shrieked, banging my fists on the table. So help me, I was going to kill that brother of mine if it was the last thing I ever did.

Bobby shrugged. "He's a good kid… most of the time. Actually, he hasn't been in the station for almost two years for a single crime. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him at all. Last time he came to visit, he said something about cleaning up his act, going straight." I perked up slightly at this.

"Come to think it, though... I haven't seen any of these gang members. Mmm…"

I interrupted his thoughts, "Do you know where they hanged out?"

"Whoa, little missy. Gang territory is not a safe place for a young lady like you."

My frown turned into a scowl. "I can take care of myself."

Bobby frowned. "Well Miss Sofia. I suggest that if you'd like to find your brother wait until he pokes his head up. I can search the database if you'd like. Maybe he actually enrolled in a school or something."

I knew my brother. And there was no way that he just suddenly went cold turkey, unless he got a life-threat. But something told me that Officer Spot wasn't going to be much help anymore. I scanned down Manic's file again.

Name: Matthews 'Maniac' Hedgehog

Previously guilty of: Robbery, burglary, gleeful mayhem, vandalism, transporting illegal goods, auto theft, etc.

Age at last arrest: 14

Affiliations: Fifth Street Strikers

Bingo. Putting on a show of annoyance, I gave the file back to him. "Alright Officer, I think I've taken up quite enough of your time. Thank you for showing me this."

"Would you like to leave your number so I can contact you if Matthews ever shows up again?"

Deciding it couldn't hurt, I filled out the 'relations' slip for Manic's file and added in my contact information. About thirty minutes later, I exited the building, determined to never enter it again.

Fifth Street wasn't too hard to find. It was in one of the worst parts of town, with the run down businesses and homeless people scattered on the sidewalks begging for money. Yep. Gang country if I ever saw it. I put my hand in my purse and fingered my 'tool' as my self defense teacher called it and the handgun Uncle Chuck had given me. One can never too careful.

"First self-defense, then violence," I thought to myself. I gripped the eight inch metal rod and continued to walk.

Unfortunately, someone else decided I looked interesting. A tall, wiry teenage boy was walking down the street directly behind me. When he got about four steps away, I felt one of my intuition warnings and swung around, gripping my purse tightly. The teenager stumbled forward as he snatched up air where my purse had been only seconds before. Before he could walk away, I swung my purse around and struck him in the back, recoiling my purse to ready another blow.

"Don't you know it's not right to steal!" I shouted, clouting him in the head.

My purse must have been heavier than I thought, because the dude went sprawling on the asphalt, rubbing the back of his head and scrambling to get up.

"Great job, Slip-Up!"

I whirled around to face two more guys; one was a tiger, the other some sort of bird.

'Slip-Up', stood up and dusted himself off. "It wasn't me! It was all her! Honest, Tiger!"

The tiger growled in disgust. His grip tightened on a metal baton that looked police issued. I'd have to watch out for that.

Backing away as slowly as I could, the three continued their conversation.

"Oh, yeah, sure it was. You're always messing up! Just grab her chaos-frickin purse and run!" the bird squawked in annoyance as he tapped the belt hilt that had a knife sheathed. Also watch out for that.

"No really, Davy, she seemed to know-"

The tiger caught sight of me shuffling away and motioned for his buddies to take notice. "Hey sweetheart, where do you think you're going?"

My heart started to pound slightly and my brain scrambled for something to say. "...What kind of name, is 'Slip-Up'?" Wow...just wow, Sonia.

Tiger seemed a little taken back, but shrugged it aside, "Ya must be new to this town. See, anyone can get stuck with a nickname for something they do or did. 'Slip-Up' here is famous for well… ya get the point. Now how about you hand over your purse, gorgeous?"

Oh yes, I'll just give that idiot my purse with all of my money inside it. That's totally happening. "Uh, yeah, I'm gonna go with no, but thanks for the offer."

"Oh, sorry hon, forgot to mention- you don't exactly have a choice." Tiger smirked as he flicked open the night stick.

The streets may be filled with people, but something told me no one was going to help me. So I did the next best thing. I grabbed my lovely self-defense tool and cleared my mind, ready for the wave of intuition to come. And come it did.

I ducked down as the cat swung at me. Then I took the tool in my hand and wrapped my hand around the guy's wrist, holding the metal rod so that it pressed against the back of his wrist. Shooting straight up, I swung his arm around, flipping him over onto his back. With no time to celebrate, I whirled around and hit the bird in the Adam's apple as hard as I could with the rod. He stumbled back, hacking and choking. The last guy tried to take a swing at me. I dodged out of the way, and then gave him a good hard kick in the stomach.

All three guys stared at me hesitantly, standing up and cradling their injuries. Tiger had an indecisive look in his eye and I decided to play my final card. "You do know I have a gun, right?" I said coyly.

At this, the three of them exchanged looks, then bolted.

I rolled my eyes and continued walking down the sidewalk.

The most decent-looking establishment in the area (and believe me, that wasn't saying much) was a shabby pawn shop with an old sign that read, Gold Striker's Pawn.

Striker? Seriously?

I walked in, jingling the bell lightly as the door opened. The only person inside was an older weasel who looked about his late twenties. He had a scruffy goatee and a worn out tee shirt. He sat behind the cash register, extremely bored. When the bell jingled, he jumped in his seat and looked at me, the anxiety obvious on his face. Then when he actually processed who I was, he calmed down, settling back into his old boredom.

"Um… hi." I gave a small wave and smiled.

His expression grew hard and he made a motion that clearly said, "Buy something or get out. Don't talk to me."

Well, unfortunately for him I wasn't interested in the merchandise. "Excuse me? I need some information about something."

The man raised an eyebrow. "...What kind of information?"

"It's about the whereabouts of someone who…" I paused and decided to make this a little more interesting. The weasel obviously was one of those low-life crooks who wouldn't talk to me unless he thought I was a fellow low-life. That would be hard to pull off, though, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "…owes me money." Hey, technically it was true. I still remember that ten dollars he stole from my piggy bank the night he ran away.

Now the weasel looked interested in me. "Well ma'am, ya came to the right place. Philip Shade, at your service… for a price, that is."

Oh, so that's how he wanted to play it. Well, let's see how this works out.

"Who are you looking for?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

"He's a hedgehog who goes by the name of Matthews, should be about sixteen years old by now. Green quills, blue eyes. You know him?"

The smirk slid off his face. "Uh... sorry ma'am, but I can't help you."

"Can't or won't?" I growled. Hey, if I was going to be a crook, then I might as well play the part.

"Both." Philip glared at me. "Now get outta here before I call in the boys to show you the door."

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Time to get the weasel to pop. I slammed my fist on the counter and leaned forward. "Listen pal, I'm not playing around. And I ain't leaving until I get some serious answers. You obviously know who I'm talking about and you. Won't. Tell me! Now spill, before I do something we'll both regret." I said, gritting my teeth and scowling. His face turning redder by the minute, the rodent slowly reached under the counter. How easy was he trying to make this? Even if I weren't psychic, I would've seen this coming.

"Uh, uh, uh! That's not nice." My hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and yanking it towards me, revealing the pistol that the man had been preparing to shoot at me. I tightened my grip and twisted his arm painfully, forcing the weasel drop the weapon. "Where. Is. Maniac?" Might as well add in his gang name for an extra boost.

Philip's eyes grew wide with terror, but he shook his head. Very annoyed and getting angrier, I flipped him over the counter onto the ground next to me, pressing my boot down hard on his chest.

Now I was getting freaked out at my violent behavior, but I guess part of the reason was that I was so used to keeping my anger inside, I just needed to let it out. I could never bring myself to yell at my Uncle no matter how much I wanted to, but honestly? I could care less about this yahoo.

Philip struggled slightly, but then I saw a flicker in his eyes. Almost a look of triumph. I frowned and let my instincts take over.

I rolled to the right and the fist that was meant for me hit Philip squarely in the nose. The weasel squealed in pain as blood spurted out of his nostrils.

But I was too busy looking at my two next opponents to notice or care. Unlike Philip, they were definitely not wimpy little weaklings. Both were wolves that looked like they worked out all day; both held shotguns.

Alright… freaky psychic powers that I can't explain, don't fail me now. I jumped up and kicked one in the face a split second before the first wolf dived at my feet. He skidded onto the floor face first and I rolled across the ground, stood up, and stayed crouching as the other attempted to swing at where he thought my head would have been. I whirled my legs around and knocked him to the ground, his gun clattering out of reach. Without missing a beat, I turned around and lifted up to punch the first guy in the face and flipped backwards to avoid the leg sweep the second one tried to do. I managed to land on the fallen gun and picked it up, pointing it at both of the wolves and the weasel who was still holding his nose and moaning.

The first wolf still had his gun, but looked a little hesitant to use it. Unfortunately, Philip didn't feel the same way. He yanked the gun out of the wolf's hands and pointed it at me. "You little-"

I dropped my gun and dove to the right, avoiding the bullet by a mere inch. Then I rolled to the left, crouched, and sprang up, doing a backflip. Two more bullets narrowly missed me. I hit the ground in a plank position and crouched down, then threw my whole body up, spinning. Again, the bullets missed. I rolled forward, dove slightly to the left and straight into Philip, yanking the now empty gun out of his hands. The last bullets had been wasted on empty air.

All three stared at me, a mix of horror and awed wonder on their faces.

Philip had his mouth gaping over and pointed at me, then at the empty gun, stammering, "You- bullets- missed- wha...?"

I sauntered over to him, smirking maliciously. "I have that effect on people, sweetie. Get used to it."

One of the wolves whispered to the other, "Dodger…"

I grabbed him by his shirt collar and pulled him close to my face. Slipping my hand into my purse, I pulled out my metal rod and whirled around, keeping a firm grip on the weasel. "Where. Is.-" I paused to jam my rod into the ribs of the second wolf who was about to try and punch me from behind. He yelped out in pain, and I repeated the process until he backed away. "...Maniac?"

The two wolves seemed to be debating if they should get involved again. I think I sealed their decision when I pulled out my handgun and pointed it at them. "Out. Now."

The two ran. I turned my attention back to Philip, narrowing my eyes to slits and baring my teeth.

"Start talking." I hissed.

"Uh…" said Philip, his eyes darting around frantically. I pointed the gun at him and cocked it slightly. His eyes grew wide.

"Maniacisn'theretheganghadtoleavetwoyearsagobecauseoneofthemembersmessedupand-"

I cut him off and growled, "Slow down. I speak english, not gibberish."

Philip took a deep breath and started again. "Most of the gang relocated to Station Square 'cause one of the members messed up and everyone got in really huge trouble with the cops and a few rival gangs. So they left and left me here to run this place until they got the whole shop set up again in Station Square. Don't point that thing at me!"

I smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Philip." Without waiting for a response, I threw him back against the counter and slipped my gun back in my purse.

As I turned to leave, Philip mumbled under his breath, "Who… who the Chaos are you?"

My hand paused on the door handle, "That is none of your business."

"Please, please, don't tell Maniac I told you where he was." The poor weasel was on his knees, begging for mercy.

"If you don't tell him that I'm coming, then I won't tell him that you told me. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, Dodger, whatever you say."

My eyes snapped over to him. "Dodger?"

He put his hands up, "Not my idea, it was Freddy's. You dodged eight bullets in five seconds. How did you-?"

I didn't wait to hear him finish, but left the store. News must spread scary-fast around here, because as I walked down the street, all of those guys who previously looked like they were going to steal my purse, shrunk away and averted their gaze. I smiled to myself.

I could get used to this.

The next day, I decided I didn't want to stay in this town any longer. Already some gangsters were trying to 'recruit' me as they like to call it (meaning, they come calling at all hours of the night either trying to flatter me or threaten me into joining. I don't even know how they found out where I was staying!). So I started trying to find a way to get out of the city that didn't involve a bus. I'd go insane if I had to spend another ten-plus hours on one of those revolting things.

After several blocks, I finally found an auto dealership. The man that ran the place was a human with dirty blond hair and dull blue eyes. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "You must be this 'Dodger' character I've heard so much about."

"How'd you know?" I asked, mildly interested.

"People describe you as a cute pink hedgehog with purple eyes, but is scarier than she looks."

I raised an eyebrow, "You're not with a gang, are you?"

"Me? Nah," the man chuckled, "But I do deal with them more often than not."

"How fast does news travel in this town?" I asked aloud.

He smiled, "In Westopolis, it's good to know who to avoid and who to befriend."

I sighed, exasperated. "…Makes sense. Here's the thing- I need a vehicle. What do you have that's good?"

He leaned forward across the counter and fingered a pen, "Depends on what you want."

"Well," I thought about it for a moment, "Something easy to maneuver, but also fast and nothing really big. The smaller the better."

The man looked up, an eyebrow raised. "I think I have a few things in back. Do you got a license?"

"Yep."

"Can you drive a motorcycle?"

"I'm a fast learner."

"Follow me," the man motioned for me to follow him to the back. We passed by sports cars, old trucks, some minivans, and even a limo, finally stopping in front of half a dozen motorcycles. The dealer leaned against a metal beam and motioned towards them. "Take your pick."

At first glance, I knew which bikes I would definitely not be getting. One seemed to have only spikes for a seat and another looked as if someone had target practice with the hubcaps. Down on the end was a black and purple motorcycle that seemed to be more of a mountain bike and of course there was a trike with three wheels instead of two. That left a pink and turquoise modern design and a dark red Harley.

I looked between the two of them. "Do you mind if I test them out?"

"Not at all." He handed the key ring to me. "Just don't think about trying to drive away without paying. I have security measures you may find annoying."

A little disturbed that he even had to tell me this, I opted to try out the red bike first. It was fast, but the steering was a bit out of alignment.

If you're wondering how I drove, it looked as if I was born to drive one of these things. Thanks to my 'freaky' abilities, I pretty much know how to not do something, meaning I learn really quick. It's handy in situations like this.

Now, the pink bike caught my eye. It had a few purple highlights on the fenders, but the hubcaps were a turquoise color. It wasn't exactly elegant, but it looked sturdy enough to survive quite a bit of action. The speed limit was reasonable, and the maneuvering was top notch. The seat was big enough that I would be able to double with someone (what? You never know) and the windscreen was just the right size. It's like it was made just for me.

After driving it for about ten minutes, the bike slowed suddenly until it came to a stop. "What the-?"

"You're outta gas!" The dealer called from the sidelines. He smirked and wandered over. "I take it you like her?"

Nodding, I smiled, "I'll take it."

"Excellent. I do need to ask… you sure you've never ridden before?"

Without answering, I pulled out my wallet. "How much?"

The paperwork completed and the price settled about thirty minutes later, I rolled out of the dealership on my beautiful new bike.

Something told me that Uncle Chuck wouldn't approve of me on a motorcycle, but hey. Just because you're a lady, doesn't mean I can't have fun… or have a little more of a crazy ride.

As I drove out of Westopolis, I couldn't help but feel a little relieved to get out of that crime-infested city. That place had awakened something inside of me; it was if I was a different person. Never had I actually fought back at the bullies and never had I threatened someone before. Uncle Chuck usually did the threatening for me. I slipped on a pair of black leather fingerless gloves and fastened on my helmet. I started the bike, relishing in the sweet sound of the ignition.

Station Square, here I come.

Boom! All done. So more action with Sofia… for the love of Chaos, every time I just dread the writing of the action. Every. Single. Time.

So explanation time. First up: Sonia's anger issues.

In the Underground universe Sonia is famous for yelling and lecturing at her brothers for their many, many mistakes and it is part of her personality. But as seen in previous chapters, she doesn't really yell at her Uncle much and mostly just kept quiet with her bullies. So in this story, her anger issues come from the fact that back in the South she held in her anger. But when she went to Westopolis, most of the people there are used to being handled a little roughly and Sonia doesn't mind yelling at people who she knows can take it. And she pretty much has decided that she'll do anything to get Manic back. So now, she isn't that little quiet girl who never spoke up and defended herself. She is a girl you need to watch out for.

Second thing: how the heck could Sonia suddenly avoid bullets. I mean, her intuition is good, but bullets? So let me explain how her powers actually work. She knows what is going to happen seconds before it does and knows how to avoid it. So when someone has a gun pointed at her, she moves before the person has even pulled the trigger. True, it's only a second or two before but she's out of the way before the bullet has left the barrel. Also, her reflexes have been strengthened by the Chaos energy in her blood, sort of like her brother, Sonic. True, it only comes in small bursts, but she can move very fast for a split second. Hence the super spin...although, I don't think that's going to be in this story.

And the last concern: Sonia's powers also allow her to know how to drive or control machinery, such as a motorcycle, without crashing or blowing something up. Works just as the same as bullet thing.

If you have anymore questions please let me know.

Review, please!