3/17/16 All chapters are being revised and edited. Expect new chapters by next week!

Careful Blues

Frantically, the Professor ran to his home. Avoiding the destruction by his daughter and her opponent proved to be simple. His home faced in the opposite direction and the Professor was safe to escape the brutality. Coming nearer to his home, his mind did the best it could to make sense of the actions he would take on next.

Yelling raged through his mind, scolding him for the decision he was about to make. Mojo had calmed down years ago before the girls had began attending Poaky Oats High School. He explained his choice as a simple choice of peace. Age was inevitable and Mojo's joints, muscles, and body were no exception to age. He found it a challenge to awake early in the mornings to plan out the girls' doom.

But today, today the Professor would be seeking Mojo's wake to plead for the first time the girls' need for their once great, animal enemy. Mojo was the only other intelligence within Townsville who could collaborate with the Professor to end the chaos boiling within the terrified town. To save his girls and his little hero, the Professor would see to it that he'd make an ally out of Mojo.

A brave bystander to Buttercup and Butch's brawl ran toward the locked beings. Being a young wrestler, the bystander foolishly believed he'd stand up to the might the built Rowdyruff harbored. The young man had been an admirer of Buttercup since high school. Much to his dismay, Buttercup knew nothing of his crush or existence. His heart raced with each step and the wrestler had a deep, trembling feeling.

That wouldn't stop him from protecting her. Finding himself beside the two, he swiftly landed a punch to the ruff's face. Buttercup had been in his choke hold for too long, her legs shaking after dealing all she could in hits to her counterpart. Seeing that Butch had been punched by someone other than herself, and seeing that Butch gave no response other than turning his attention to the wrestler, Buttercup was released of from his choking hold.

Butch raised himself off the street, looking down at the wrestler who barely reached the height of his chest. Through her coughs, Buttercup witnessed the muscles on Butch's back contract to lift the wrestler off his feet by the head, his hand big enough to cover the top of the wrestler's head.

Blood began flowing down the wrestler's face as Butch's hold tightened. Compared to his brother's, Butch had an incredible strength that a pinch for Butch was the equivalent to an iron hold. The pressure he used to crush the wrestler's head was beyond that of a pinch for the wrestler.

"You sick bastard—monster!"

Butch looked over his shoulder. He gave no reply to her spurs. Merely, he faced back to the unfortunate wrestler. His keen senses felt Buttercup's fight response. Lunging toward Butch to rescue the wrestler caused Butch to chuckle deeply.

He presented the man as a trophy for Buttercup to marvel at, "Give this monster a prize."

"What is this? You're already flying?"

Awestruck, HIM looked on at the infant, who had awoken after a ten minute nap. The baby had lifted himself from the heat of his blanket and was now flying, giggling around his new home. HIM took a seat in him arm chair, basking in the show. Unable to look away, HIM began jotting down all the possible ways he could rule the world with this child.

Although he'd be waiting years until the child was old enough to control himself, he wouldn't waste any time in knowing the boy's strengths. He can fly smoothly, as if he knew just where to go, when to slow down, and when to increase speed. Astounded, HIM sank into the leather of his chair.

For once, the devil was grateful for the Powerpuff Girls, one in particular. He was also grateful that he viewed the puff as nothing more than dirt. This view would be passed on to the growing infant. It would make things much easier for the boy when he revealed to him the true identity of the woman after he murdered her with his own cold hands.

"Yes, you'll feel no remorse this way, my boy."

A tinge of doubt arose in the pit of HIM's chest. Had the boy inherited his father's darkness? Had the boy been born with emotions like his mother? Or worse, was the boy bound to develop emotions and cruelty? HIM glared at the boy. If he would grow to develop signs of darkness and emotions, then the boy would be capable of acting upon his own feelings rather than following orders.

This outcome could ruin HIM's confident objectives.

Growling, HIM pulled down the flying infant by his ankle, "No. You will be raised in hell and you will be your mother's demon!"