A.N. General disclaimer for all things copyright. I do not own the characters, setting, or lore utilized in the creation of this piece. My work is inspired by the creative thought of the original authors

Sometimes, enough is enough, you know?

That moment when a person, already at the limit of what they can handle, is roughly pushed over the edge, into some abyss awaiting below. A line, stretched to the breaking point, is splintered by a final thrown stone.

She had felt it in the past, before she had died. When her homework was destroyed or when she was framed for some act of cheating. Years of malicious acts thrust upon her built up like a pile of small stones, slowly grinding away her will to continue, her will to live.

The theft of her mother's flute had been a harsh blow, a particularly large rock for her to carry. It had nearly broken her.

There were many times she wanted to just quit, leave school and never come back. She knew her options. She wasn't nearly as dumb as her grades let on so a transfer was possible. Despite the stigma, a GED would be preferable to continuing the torture that she had been under. Yet, every time she was pushed to that edge, it was her stubbornness that held the line. She wouldn't let them win, couldn't. She had too much pride for that. They pushed her, abused her, manipulated the people and the system against her for nothing more than petty malicious gain. She was better than them.

That thinking had gotten her killed in one of the worst ways possible.

It was those thoughts that Taylor mused over as she watched the girls surround her, baring an easy escape to the doors. School had just let out and she had made a beeline for the exit, not wanting to be in a den of beasts any longer than she had too. A few quick social maneuvers and Taylor had been stalled and trapped before she even made it twenty feet.

As the circle formed, each girl standing as some form of bulwark, disgusting grins on their faces, as if they could derive pleasure from such petty villainy, the ring leader showed herself.

"Taylor, when are you going to get the hint that you aren't wanted here?"

Emma Barnes. A girl that she had confided in, trusted with secrets that only a young girl would. A trust that had been horrifically betrayed.

Taylor didn't know why and part of her no longer cared. Not long after the death of her mother, Emma had changed into some terrible creature hell bent on destroying the life of her best friend. She had co-opted Madison Clements, the adorable girl that was rarely punished, and Sophia Hess, a track star for the school, into her terror campaign.

Emma was everything that Taylor wasn't. A red head with beautiful features that could land any modeling job she wanted. Curves in all the 'right' places, opposing Taylor's own tall and rail-thin form. She was popular, able to maneuver through the social miasma with ease, came from a rich family, and always knew what to say and when.

Taylor's eyes narrowed.

She was also nothing short of a demon. There was nothing to gain from envying a beast.

Emma seemed to notice the irritation, a small grin appearing as she spoke, "Strike a nerve, did I? Face it Taylor, you should just leave and not come back. It would be easier on everyone if they didn't have to worry about your bad habits."

She gave a half turn, almost as if she was addressing one of the many that surrounded her, and continued, "You know how people like her get. Have to repeat yourself and even then they still won't get it. Probably something from birth, couldn't be her fault. Drove her parents to death I imagine."

Taylor's heart fluttered and she held her breath steady through shear willpower. That was low. She had, in the middle of tremendous emotional turmoil, had shared the details of her mother's death. A death likely caused by an attempt to call her daughter while driving. It was a topic that she struggled with on occasion, especially around holidays or birthdays.

How dare she.

She idly noticed her fists were clenched, her bag having long fallen to her side. She felt her heart pound as her blood raced, her body tensing as if for a fight. She swallowed hard, focusing on control. She had the strength to break these girls, literally. She was a hero, not a murderer.

But she wasn't afraid.

"Shut up."

The snickering, something that only had just started, fell instantly, a quiet replacing the whispers. Emma, who had been in the middle of some tirade, stood frozen, at a loss to her command.

She recovered quickly, taking a step forward, hissing as anger crawled over her face, "What did you say?"

Taylor stared at the girl as she stepped closer, only a couple of feet away, her heart pounding in her ears, her senses on full alert. She was surprised that everything was still moving at the normal speed. It was like her body was in a rush. She felt so strong, so capable, so free.

She couldn't stop herself. She didn't want to.

"Your just a monster, Emma. A horrible beast, just like everyone else. You can only satisfy your thirst by hurting others. Your nothing more than a parasite, a rabid dog that needs to be put down."

She paused, taking satisfaction from the looks of surprise and extreme anger that her foe sported. The others looked just a flabbergasted, shocked that the weak girl would stand up for herself.

She wasn't weak. She would never be weak again. She was more than them, more than anyone. She had the workshop, her powers, and her life. Her ambitions were for far more than just this school.

"Your nothing, Emma."

There was a pregnant pause followed by a banshee wail as Emma launched herself at Taylor.

Taylor moved, reacting faster than the slow moving girl ever could. She reached out and garbed Emma's extended wrist, a hand twisted into a claw, and gripped her shirt top with the other. In one smooth motion Taylor spun, twisting the momentum of the girl, and threw her to the floor, her body landing with a hard thud.

A silence fell over the scene, the crowd in disbelief at the display.

Taylor paid them no mind. The monster in front of her was the real threat, she could feel it in her blood. She waited with baited breath, her stance wide and arms loose, ready to react to another attack.

Emma picked herself up and turned back to Taylor, her red hair falling away in a cascade of crimson. For the first time she stared at Taylor, not in triumph or contempt, but in trepidation.

In fear.

It was less satisfying than it should have been. She blamed the situation. Still, she took the girl in, sitting on the ground, looking up at the person she had ruined and killed. Someone who had, in no uncertain terms, defied her and then had backed it up with force.

She could see it, the realization that she was not going to be pushed around, wasn't going to take the terror anymore.

The realization that the prey was something so much more.

Taylor took one last look, savoring the moment, a catharsis for so much. She turned, reached for her bag, and began walking to the door.

The girls parted before her, unwilling to challenge her path.

She knew there would be repercussions. She had seen the bruises: small blemishes on her face from when she landed and one darker bruise around her right wrist. There was going to be trouble for that, she was sure. People would probably ask certain questions that she couldn't afford, but it wouldn't be the main concern. No, it would be that one of the school favorites was attacked by the recluse troublemaker.

As she exited the door and headed to the front gate she found that she really couldn't care. Detention, suspension, expulsion; events at school didn't matter in the greater scope of what she could be doing, what she should be doing.

What she would do when she got home. She'd put this off enough. Her research had prepared her for all but the worst. The messengers had helped in their own way.

It was time to be a hero.