9:36 AM
PYROVISION

The sun filtered in through the blinds and graced Pyro's shoulder with warm, yellow tendrils. Pyro's eyes opened hesitantly, gazing across the glossy floorboards to the bed positioned against the door. Still there, still safe.

Pyro slowly sat up, bones aching. An invisible sorrow pulled at every limb, coaxing her to lay back down and give up. It really would be so much easier than trying to fight on against an entire town of superpeople.

Pyro was just pyro. No Medic to heal him, no Engineer to refuel him, no friends to fight beside.

'Hey Pyro. Why're you just bumming around?'

Pyro looked up. Could it be?

'It is! Come here and give me a hug, Pyro!' Balloonicorn neighed. Pyro crawled over to the matchbook that had fallen out of the sideways bed's pillow case. How could he have forgotten about it?

Pyro picked up the matchbook and held it close, feeling Balloonicorn's stubby hooves hug her back.

"Oh, Balloonicorn, what am I going to do?" Pyro asked, hoisting the bubbly balloon animal to the light.

'To be honest, I have no idea.' Balloonicorn admitted, his inflatable horn drooping. 'These people are evil zombies! I'd give them the ol' one-two if I could, but sadly they don't seem to like starting fires in these parts…'

"No kidding," Pyro sighed. If only there was a way to un-brainwash his friends!

Balloonicorn suddenly sprung up with a silly little squeak.

'Pyro, you're a genius!' he nickered.

"I am?" Pyro asked. She couldn't remember having any genius-y ideas.

'Oh, don't be silly, of course you are!' Balloonicorn danced around Pyro's head excitedly. 'You know exactly what you have to do!'

"I do?"

'Yes siree! I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?'

"Maybe…"

'Fine, fine. B-'

"Butterflies?"

'No, but good guess. U-'

"Ukelele?"

'No more guesses from you until you know for sure, you dumbyhead! Now where was I? B… U… R… N… I…'

Pyro gasped in delight.

"Burn it down! I have to burn the whole place down! That'll save my friends!" Pyro clapped, bouncing on his behind.

'Yes! You got it! I knew you'd get it! You've always been the smart one, Pyro!' Balloonicorn snuggled Pyro's cheek.

The sound of wood dragging across wood echoed through the house. Then, the tentative creak of a door that had not been treated well since its last oiling. Finally, Pyro glanced down both sides of the hall before creeping out and scuttling down the stairs.. No Engie. Good.

Pyro peered into the kitchen where the back door had since been repaired. It was unlocked. Creeping around the side of the house, Pyro kept a wary eye out for any residents. However, it seemed the street was devoid of people. Each car was in each driveway, but there were no daddies mowing the lawn or kiddies in the streets. It was as if all the strange people of Creekfield had up and returned to their home planet.

Pyro hoped they didn't take the team with them. The Old Ones were up there! And they didn't like humans too much.

Pyro walked down the street, apprehensive. Balloonicorn had gone ahead to scout out the perfect place to ignite the purifying blaze, so until then Pyro had time to cuddle away.

About a half-hour of walking later, Pyro found out where everyone had gone: the anniversary picnic.

It was intimidating to see so many flawless people concentrated into one park. It reminded Pyro of the scary, cold camps out in the desert only this one was completely devoid of people who looked anything like Pyro. Perhaps it was a bad analogy to bring up, Pyro thought to herself as a laughing couple walked by, looking like the mother and father in a flour commercial Pyro had seen. It did little to quiet her fears. Those flour people were her least favorite commercial.

Within the throbbing crowd, Pyro vaguely recognized one of the men. It took him forever to realize it was Sniper. His sunglasses, scar, and hat were all gone, leaving a fresh, confident young man behind. He hardly looked like the Sniper Pyro knew at all, chatting up a bunch of pretty girls and laughing. New Sniper gave him the creeps.

Pyro could have sworn she saw Spy as well, but it couldn't have been. The man in question had the same fierce eyes and long nose, but lacked Spy's trademark mask. Weird coincidence, weirder possibility.

There was also Scout, Demoman and Medic, standing in a circle in their Sunday best, laughing like old times but different. Too different.

Pyro began to feel sick an hurried over to the dessert table to take a breather, and that's when he saw her.

Joanna could be seen weaving through the ebb and flow of the crowd, slipping in and out of sight like a snake. A big, smiling snake.

A cold sweat pricked at the back of Pyro's neck. One uncomfortable hand gripped the table cloth while the other traveled sightlessly along the tabletop, searching. Pyro needed to act soon, Pyro needed to act fast. Eyes never leaving the approaching snake-woman, his fingers curled around the handle of the long serving knife beside the cakes. Just as Joanna opened her grinning mouth to speak, Pyro's right hand rose and drove the knife into his left hand in one swift, brutal motion. The sharp 'thunk' that accompanied the blade's instantaneous journey into the cloth and wood of the table seemed to arrive at Pyro's ears several seconds later than the move itself. He whimpered as he tore the knife out of the table with the same surprising strength that sent it in and wrenched it from side to side, ripping his palm beneath the thick rubber glove with periodic spurts of blood.

Smoky lenses half-fogged by heavy breaths and hand bleeding, Pyro moved to the side of the desert table. Joanna had since arrived at the table and now stood opposite her, still smiling. If she had been shocked by Pyro's sudden self-injury, any semblance of it had faded away fast.

"How are you doing today, Pyro?" Joanna asked. Pyro could have sworn he saw a forked tongue lurking behind her pearly-white teeth.

'She-snake, she-snake,' a voice inside Pyro's head chanted in warning. Balloonicorn had finally returned to Pyro's breast pocket, but did not speak of any location. Perhaps he trusted Pyro was setting herself on the right path. She glanced around nervously at the faces of the other picnic-goers, catching glimpses of sneering alligator jaws and snapping turtle beaks and desperately hoped that was the case.

Slender fingers with manicured claws drew Pyro's attention back to Joanna.

"Pyro, are you there?"

Without speaking, Pyro held up his hand and pointed.

"Hospital," He said slowly, though the result was still muffled.

Joanna tilted her head, as if Pyro's bleeding hand wasn't enough of a hint, before realization crossed her face like she just understood a secret joke.

"Let me find Mayor Campbell for you. Don't you wander off, now!" she insisted before delving into the crowd with all the fluid grace of a twisting serpent. As the blood ran down Pyro's hand, she began to feel sick.

It wasn't long before Joanna returned with Mr. Campbell, as if he had been lurking just out of sight, waiting for a chance to whisk Pyro away where nobody could hear her scream.

'Well, now is his chance', Pyro admitted grimly.

"Oh, my child! That is a nasty injury you have there. Whatever could you have done?" the mayor asked. His expression was a cruel mockery of concern.

Pyro shrugged. How would she know? She was crazy, remember?

"Well don't hurt yourself any more trying to remember," Campbell laughed, "Let's get you some treatment, my child."

Pyro made no sound, but obediently followed Mayor Campbell through the crowd as he parted it like the red sea. On the curb, the mayor's Dart was awaiting them, ready to roar through the streets of hell on earth.

For the better half of the drive, the mayor was silent, which Pyro was thankful for. A victory speech would just make the procession through the sunny suburbs even more humiliating. Much to his chagrin, Campbell soon began to speak, his tone chipper and relaxed.

"You're probably wondering why I had my men let you out of jail if I was just going to catch you again," Campbell said as he drove,

No, I don't. Don't talk to me anymore.

"Well," he chuckled, "I have to admit I really didn't see you as a threat to Creekfield. Not to be rude, son, but you're crazier than a mad cow!"

I'm not crazy. Just leave me alone.

"I guess if anything, I expected you to run out of town and die in the desert. Thinking about it, this is so much more humane, isn't it?"

No it isn't. You're a monster and I hate you.

"I can fix you, Pyro. Whatever you are under there, I can make you happy and normal. Actually, beyond normal. You'll be perfect, isn't that exciting?"

'Don't listen to him!' Balloonicorn urged, finally speaking up. Pyro couldn't risk speaking back, but nodded.

"Oh! Here we are," The car pulled to a stop. Pyro recognized the mayor's house through the tinted window. "Now, let's make this quick. I want to get back to the picnic in time for the town picture."

Of course.

Pyro didn't need to be bound of shackled, which pleased Campbell. Perhaps he thought Pyro didn't understand him. She was crazy, after all.

Pyro obediently followed the mayor into the house.

Esther looked up from her place on the rug, but settled back into her afternoon nap when Campbell placed a reassuring hand on her head. Good dog, dearest friend.

Pyro just looked at her, and with one suspicious eye open, she looked back. Bitch.

Mayor Campbell took Pyro downstairs to his basement lab. Pyro looked at the familiar screens and examination tables with contempt. Spy was a zombie now because of them.

"Now, the procedure is very simple. I'm going to open up your head and install some very special implants that will form you into a model citizen in just one hour!" Donning a white coat, Campbell picked up a slim case displaying four small pieces of metal. They were covered in all sorts of bumps and wires, like something out of Star Trek. Pyro wished the Enterprise would just come by and beam him away from this place.

But no. Pyro had to be strong. For all of her friends.

'I believe in you!' Balloonicorn whispered.

"Don't worry," Campbell said, misinterpreting Pyro's hesitance, "You'll be all numbed up and won't feel a thing. Now just lay down on the table there…"

But Pyro didn't.

The mayor's smile twitched. "I said to get on the table, Pyro."

Pyro stood still.

Mayor Campbell frowned, his deep pink face truly ugly. "Get on the table. Now."

When Pyro still resisted, Campbell sighed a long, resigned sigh. He began to approach the mercenary with a very particular look on his face. Pyro knew that look. She had gotten that look from mean old men in white coats her entire life.

She refused to get it today.

Campbell's advance was halted by the barrel of a flare gun. His eyes widened, and Pyro smiled behind his mask.

"You wouldn't," the mayor stuttered. Genuine fear distorted his face. The sweetness of the moment made Pyro giggle. Was Pyro still crazy? Was she?

Pyro squeezed the trigger and the familiar shriek of a flare echoed through the room, accompanied by the mayor's pained scream as he was knocked off his feet. The floodgates were open and it was time to tear through the lab.

Priceless technology was dirt in Pyro's eyes. Test tubes were shattered and screens were kicked in.

"DON'T!" Campbell roared as he groveled on the ground, clutching his burnt face. His nose was bleeding profusely.

Pyro didn't even spare him a passing glance as he flipped over examination tables and ripped cords from their sockets.

The more Pyro destroyed, the more she felt there was something missing. It wasn't enough to destroy the fingers and toes. The mind-control squares and surveillance screens weren't enough. The brain needed to be destroyed as well. Not Campbell's brain. No, he was just the figurehead.

But where would one hide a brain?

Pyro looked at the long counter dividing the computer wall and the tables.

Upon rolling back the cabinet doors, Pyro was greeted with a block of dials and switches neatly labeled with abstract concepts like "congeniality" and "obedience".

Pyro didn't care to read the others, and did not get the chance to.

There was a crack of a gun and fire exploded through Pyro's shoulder, ripping flesh and muscle. It was far from the first time Pyro had been shot, but it was no less excruciating. Another shot whizzed past Pyro's head and shattered a chunk of the countertop. Pyro leaped out of the way as the sound of shotgun shells hitting the floor echoed through the room.

"I didn't want to have to do this," Pyro peeked over the overturned table she had sought shelter behind to see the burnt face of the mayor, warped further with pain and rage. In his hands was a smoking shotgun. "Sadly, you've left me no choice."

He aimed the gun again and Pyro ducked back behind the table. Trapped like a rat. Pyro's mind raced as a steady flow of blood stained the inside of his suit. Like before, doors were closing, escapes fleeing like insects. Disgusting and cowardly but alive.

Another shot dented the table and pushed it. Footsteps indicated the mayor's approach. Fuck.

Pyro's breathing quickened uncontrollably. If a flare to the face couldn't stop this monster man, what could?

Instead of killing Pyro like a wounded fish in a barrel, Campbell turned away from the table and crouched in front of his mind control machine. Pyro peeked over the edge of the table curiously.

"You know, I'm not a violent man. I ought to give you one last chance," he said as he inserted a small key into a panel and opened up a hidden set of buttons. "But since you've proven yourself incapable of listening to reason, I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you ample persuasion. See this black button here?"

Pyro saw. It was small and short, safely hidden from unwitting hands.

"All I have to do is key in a code and flip this switch and I can transmit a signal that will shut down the Creekfield installations and ultimately, the brain of a citizen of my choosing. I've never had to use it, so I have yet to perfect the speed of the shut down. At the speed it's at now, it's a very painful death… Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Pyro's soul went cold.

"No…" Pyro pleaded. The mayor heard him and smiled.

"All you have to do is surrender, child. You and all of your friends can live happily ever after here. Don't you want that?"

'Don't listen to him! You know what Miss Admin will do if you give up now!' Balloonicorn urged.

Pyro's eyes fell from the mayor's treacherous face to the shotgun leaning beside the table. Was it out of ammo or was he just stupid?

Despite being unable to see Pyro's eyes behind her lenses, the mayor shook his head and moved the gun over to his side. "Don't even think about it."

Pyro despised the old man's patronizing tone. Even though she had burned his big fat face off, he was acting like she was hardly a minor threat, just a misbehaving child. It was a tone the doctors from the big hospital used when Pyro didn't want to take the icky meds the nurse brought in. Pyro hated those doctors and hated that place. Pyro hated this monster mayor and hated Creekfield.

With an animalistic scream, Pyro leaped over the table and tackled the mayor against his machine. It was by grace of god that the mayor's head missed the little black button. Pyro could see a code had already been plugged in, no doubt the code of one of her friends. How dare he try to hurt Pyro's friends.

With tightened fists, Pyro wailed on the mayor, all the frustration and betrayal and fear tearing Pyro's shoulder further but harming the old mayor more.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid bastard!

Pyro didn't notice he had begun to cry, or that at some point he had switched from his fists to the butt of the shotgun until Mayor Amos Campbell's strangled breaths and screams gave way to wheezing breaths and desperate, whispered pleas for mercy.

Finally Pyro's berserk wore off, and she stood up from the barely conscious form of her adversary. The rage and pain was gone now, leaving behind a mist of fearsome calm. It was over. It was all finally over.

With careful hands, Pyro unloaded the rest of the shotgun's ammo into the mind control machine, rendering is a useless piece of junk. Tendrils of smoke caressed his mask as the first, curious tongues of flame began to explore the lab. Over.

Pyro said nothing as she noticed Campbell dragging his pathetic, defeated form over to the shambles of his life's work and held it tight. He would rather go down with his demented ship than go to prison as a madman. Pyro respected his wishes and dealt him a final, lethal blow to the back of his head with the empty shotgun. Over.

Pyro turned to see Esther standing at the base of the stairs, watching. She did not attack. She did not make a single noise. She simply stared with her golden eyes. Her tail was firmly pressed against her hind legs in absolute submission. Smart dog. Dearest friend.

Pyro passed her and went up the stairs. She did not follow, but simply tracked his movements with her sad eyes. She would not leave her master. Pyro respected her wishes too and barred the door to the lab with the shotgun. It was all over.

The house was now empty; exorcised of evil. Its inhabitants were doomed to hell and its walls awaited the caress of a blissful inferno. Pyro wished she could witness the flames as they surrounded her and devoured the house, but she had to go and find her friends.

The front door seemed to open for him, a carpet of smoke and rainbows awaiting his tired boots. It was time to go home.

Pyro smiled as everything went dark.