Hello! Thank you guys for continuing to show such support for this story, I appreciate it more than you know! I was able to finally respond to some reviews recently (and I think one of them twice...oops. Haha. My total bad.), I just wanted to get to talk to some of you guys and show my appreciation. Definitely something I need to do more often!
Also, thanks to those of you who gave feedback about the rating thing. I've decided to keep the rating T. I just may again consider changing it during future chapters, but it'll be a while until those happen anyway so, eh. I won't worry about it again until then, haha.
So, wow. I have to say...besides the prologue of course, I think this is probably the shortest chapter I've ever written? Like possibly ever? Wow? I didn't exactly mean for it to be so short, haha. I basically meant for this chapter to be a slight cool down from the sheer craziness of chapter six, so I hope you guys don't mind the length too much! I promise you though, this will probably end up being the shortest chapter of the whole story, so have no fear!
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, settings, or properties from The Powerpuff Girls, Craig McCracken owns them.
Sorry for any errors!
Chapter Seven
-Blossom's POV-
Quiet restlessness and disturbance filled the air in our childhood home that evening. The battle was over now, but somehow, it didn't feel that way. All six of us sat in the living room, cleaning ourselves up with towels, watching and listening dazedly as Professor switched through each and every one of the major news stations on TV.
It was on every news station in the country.
"Where did this invasion come from? We interviewed eyewitnesses at the scene earlier today—" Switch.
On this channel, footage rolled of the chaotic battle scene, monsters flying and charging and us taking them down. I raised my eyebrows at particularly gory clip of Buttercup crushing the head of one of the four-legged creatures under her combat boot, black splurting all over her.
How had they even gotten footage of the fight? I hadn't seen any camera crews around us. Not to mention it would've been too dangerous for them. Maybe they'd flown in some news helicopters and we'd been too busy to notice. "Rich, I never imagined something like this happening. I'm sure our viewers feel the same way. There's fear, there's uncertainty, there's disbelief. And if something like this could happen in Townsville, it could happen anywhere." Switch.
This time, there was misleading video of me and my battle companions getting taken down by different monsters, edited together to make it look like we'd lost the whole battle. They also threw in zoomed in, dramatic shots of our confused expressions when the creatures began to drop dead to the ground on their own.
"We saw how even the Powerpuff Girls and the Rowdyruff Boys were struggling during this fight today. Who's to say this wouldn't happen again? And if it does, will we be prepared for it? Are the Powerpuff Girls enough in this day and age? Maybe their protection isn't enough anymore. Should cities like Townsville come up with military back up plans in case of an emergency that these superheroes can't handle?" Professor abruptly switched the channel again.
Feeling my animosity and frustration swirling, I took a deep, slow breath to keep from having an outburst. I covered my mouth with my right hand. We hadn't had the media so collectively against us since the Princess Morbucks incident of our sophomore year of high school. And even then, it hadn't been this bad.
This was bad. This was really bad.
Buttercup slammed her fist against the carpet, nostrils flared and rage in her eyes. She burst out, "We were handling it. We were handling it just fine. Couldn't they see that? Are they really that stupid?"
"Yeah, we were handling it. And then the remaining monsters died. And not because of us. They dropped dead for no reason." Brick had his arms folded, staring ahead at the TV screen blankly. His voice was bleak. "Do you really blame them for thinking we couldn't handle it when a little less than half of those things destroyed themselves instead of us doing it like we were supposed to?"
Buttercup didn't respond, just sunk down further onto the floor, the same angry, perplexed expression on her face that she'd worn ever since the abrupt end of our battle. It was same one the rest of us wore on our faces, too.
It had happened right in front of me hours ago, and yet I still couldn't believe it had actually happened. Monster after monster, dropping straight to the ground like dominos. With no discernable cause. All of them, dead. 50 monster corpses lying in Townsville Park, white as snow, drenched in black goop.
Something about this felt so wrong. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but there was something wrong. And with the way that the air was thick and unsettled around us all, I knew everyone else felt it too. I felt sick. I felt cold.
I needed answers. We all did. And soon.
Speaking to no one in particular, I said quietly, "No matter how many times I try and make sense of this, I can't. None of it makes sense." I turned to Brick, looking him in the eyes, searching for answers in the ruby depths as if they were written there. "Why would they show up in such huge numbers, fight us, and then the rest of them just…give up? Lie down and die right in front of our eyes? Completely unprovoked? Every single one?"
Brick stared back into my eyes with his haunted ones, seemingly searching for answers too. He only shook his head at me.
On the current news channel, they were having in-depth conversations and interviewing different people who had nothing to do with anything that had happened this afternoon. "We asked expert cryptozoologist Jim Lane to analyze this phenomena and give us his analysis for what might have happened. Here's what he said."
A man with glasses appeared onscreen, answering an interviewer off screen. "I believe that since these creatures were made from Chemical X, something about the Chemical X in these superheroes caused the monsters to react to it, have an allergic reaction of sorts, which in turn caused them to self-destruct."
"Bullshit," Butch responded to the TV, scrubbing his shaggy hair with a white towel, blackening it with filth.
"Full of shit," Boomer followed up. He was currently facing Bubbles, holding a wet washcloth and wiping leftover black goop off of her face as she despondently let him. Both of their blonde hair was still matted with black. We'd literally been cleaning ourselves up for hours, but we still reeked of the stuff.
Professor had kept complaining that we were leaving stains all over the white furniture and carpet, and he'd tried in vain to cover everything with plastic. He'd likely still be removing black stains from everything in the coming days. Likewise, I would probably be shampooing it out of my hair for the next two weeks.
"Watch the language, gentlemen. No cursing in my house, please." Professor said, shooting Boomer and Butch a dark look from behind his glasses. They both quieted sullenly.
I turned, fully facing Professor, who was standing behind the couch. "They're right, though. Clearly that guy doesn't know what he's talking about." I said, eyeing him. I continued matter-of-factly, "You do know, though. You caught on from the beginning, before anyone else did."
Professor shook his head, making a noise of defeat. His short black hair—with grey sprinkled in it where there hadn't been years before—was in disarray on his head, making him look like a mad scientist. "I didn't know. It was just a conjecture that I had made." He switched the channel again as the cryptozoologist prattled on about his terrible theory.
"Make another conjecture, then." I said to him, patient. "Come on, Professor. What do you think is happening?"
Professor pressed his lips together for a moment, frustration still knitting his brow. "I don't know for sure. Knowing they're made from Chemical X isn't enough. I don't know exactly how these creatures were created, that's the problem. I would have to analyze these monsters up close. Look at their composition, their DNA."
I nodded slowly, having fully anticipated his answer. "I see," I said. I reached carefully into the pocket of my shorts, pulling out the goop and piece of jelly flesh that I'd wrapped up in my pink handkerchief, now stained all over with black. I was surprised that it hadn't squelched out of the handkerchief during all of the action. "Then it's a good thing I saved this." I got up from the couch, handing it to Professor.
He took it, then unwrapped it. As soon as he realized what it was, he gasped, his eyebrows raising high up on his head. "Blossom," he looked up at me gratefully, eyes sparkling, putting a loving hand on my cheek. "My brilliant little girl." I smiled up at him.
"What is that?" Bubbles asked, peering over at us, just like everyone else was.
"A sample of flesh I took from one of the creatures I defeated. I thought it might come in handy." I shrugged like it was nothing as the others reacted with shock and awe. Not going to lie, I was feeling a little proud of myself. "I'm just glad it wasn't for nothing."
"Good going, Bloss," said Boomer, smiling at me. Butch gave me a thumbs up.
"Baby, you're a genius." Brick said, standing up from the couch and looking at me proudly. He looked at my dad. "So you'll be able to analyze this, right?"
Professor nodded, staring down at the strange white flesh, which was still coated in black liquid. "Yes, I will. But I'll have to start preserving it right now, while it's still fresh." He looked at me again, his eyes soft. "Thank you, Blossom. Because of you, we might finally have some answers soon."
"Nice going, Pinky," Buttercup said, finally speaking up again and looking much less unsatisfied. Everyone did, in fact. I was happy to be able to provide at least the one source of relief for the evening.
Excusing himself, Professor then disappeared down to his basement laboratory, locking the door behind him.
We stayed in the living room, flipping between news programs on TV and continuing to complain and groan at all of their sensationalizing and inaccuracy. Additionally, a few times, there were reporters ringing our doorbell, demanding to talk to Professor, and we shooed them all away. Eventually we stopped opening up the door and kept the curtains on all the windows shut, and the reporters pounded on the door ceaselessly. The sound of the doorbell rang into late at night.
And Professor stayed down in his laboratory for the rest of the evening.
Taking advantage of being able to use our own shower instead of the usual communal showers at school, I took a long hot shower, scrubbing and scrubbing at my lengthy hair foot by foot, using an entire third of the shampoo bottle, watching black water and dirt swirl down the drain.
Eventually I got out of the shower, letting Bubbles and Buttercup use it next as my hair air dried. After the both of them were finished, the boys left, kissing and hugging us goodbye.
Hours went by, and it was late. Later than we should have stayed at home on a school night. It was time for us to go back to our campus, since we would all have school the next day. Before we left, we shouted our goodbyes to Professor through the basement door.
He didn't answer. Only an eerie silence followed.
I know, I know! So short! Ahh!
Don't worry, you guys. Chapter eight has enough length to make up for this puny excuse of a chapter, I promise. Also, finally, the return of different POV's, including the brothers themselves! I may even post it sooner than usual. Woo! Stay tuned, everyone!
Don't forget to leave a review! It's always appreciated.
-MsButterFingers
