The Spiralling
Chapter 3: Crimson on blue
It wasn't the scene I was expecting. The inner child within me was hoping for Red Mist at the left most corner of the roof and the mystery man on the right. What I got was three dead bodies of some thugs flanking the left and right of the exit. That asshole never did wanted to play fair. Up ahead, a girl only slightly taller than Hit Girl and possibly a year or two older was straddling a badly mangled Red Mist. It was a sight of horrors- Red Mist had numerous cuts both shallow and deep, long and short on him, his costume ripped all over. He was vomiting blood like the angel's falls and on top of him, some girl with white hair or wig was holding high with both hands a knife (called KA-BAR or something), about to stab him in the throat.
I was thinking 'Hit Girl' when I saw this mystery heroine, but I knew it was impossible to be her. Her uniform was completely different. Sure, she had a similar band around her face, but she was wearing a black jumpsuit with highly intricate, abstract evil silver patterns and a black cape. Her boots looked like it came out of The Matrix or one of those vampire movies, like the Blade series. Her gloves were black versions of what Mindy used to wear, except with permanently built-in steel brass knuckles and claws. She was covered in blood.
The way I described it sounds like Mindy in a different costume, but her natural looks were way too far off- she was quite possibly an albino- white hair, quite pale skin and red irises. Her skin was just not pale enough for me to be sure. Moreover, she seemed slightly taller and more developed.
I was in shock and awe for a second there. What had happened had thrown my plans way off the building. Moreover, it was mindboggling to think that there was another little superheroine who appeared to be just as capable, just as ambitious with what looked like similar goals. What were the chances? Their style appears similar as well- This albino had twin katana-like swords hanging from her utility belt, as well as twin pistols holstered on her thigh. What were the chances?
Without so much as a second's hesitation, this adolescent brought the knife down upon Red Mist's throat, aimed at the windpipe. The hopeless sod couldn't even scream. I stood there frozen, my mind still struggling to catch up. It was when she turned to glare at me that I woke up. In a way reminding me of Catwoman, she got up slowly, as if anticipating any sudden movements. Holy fuck, I thought to myself, am I screwed? If this was the mystery girl who wants me dead, then I'm a definite goner- from the looks of it, even Hit-Girl would not qualify to be her sidekick, then what am I?
"Here for the match, spaz?" The gargoyle of doom addressed me- I could feel a wave of chilling air as she took a few steps closer. My lips were sealed with fear- it was like meeting Macfarlane's Spawn, except ten times worse with cutting edge graphics and sound effects thrown in. It was like back to square one, to my first encounter with those two carjackers. I felt well-equipped, but no longer. I took a few steps back to maintain a more comfortable distance from her- as far as physically possible, "What, backing out now?"
"N-no..." It was all I could utter, my previous experiences with brave catch-phrases down the drain, my previous experiences with criminals shamed. As if in contemplation, the demon girl, with her hand, wiped the blood off her face and licked it. In her mouth, I caught a glimpse of metal fangs. She was literally armed to the teeth!
"I'll make it easy for you." Demon girl said, snorting, almost casually as she removed her own utility belt, letting her twin katanas drop carelessly. She then proceeded to undo the holsters with guns on her thighs, letting them drop as well. She took out a hidden pistol and knife from her boots and released them from her grasp- they fell with slight clangs. Lastly, the KA-BAR on her chest was removed as well. Of all the killing tools the ghost had, she chose a fan that was hidden somewhere around her left bicep area, though I still felt she was more dangerous than a squad of trained terrorists with it, "Still going to run, bitch?"
"I don't run." After so much time, I was able to finally work up the courage to speak to the monster before me. I had to admit, however, her scare tactics worked, or at least, I was hoping they were just scare tactics and not habits.
"We'll see," after our little pre-fight talk, she charged at me. Based more on instinct than any of the combos I worked out, I reached for my taser and pulled it from its resting place on my right. The quick-draw in me was able to aim and fire the stun gun at my new nemesis, but this superior Hit-Girl alternative was somehow able to intercept the wires with her fan.
I dropped my taser and my batons were out just before she covered the odd 30 meters between us. At least that was something to be glad of- my reflexes had improved with training.
I decided to go on the offensive without actually cranking my brain over what to do next. I tried whacking her over the side of her jaw with a horizontal swipe from my right night stick, but a slight duck from her was enough to avoid it. I went with one of my combos- next thing I tried was a vertical swipe from my left baton, but the ghost seemed to have floated sideways and knocked the stick out of her way with her fan, making my attempt a waste in energy and opportunity.
Next thing I knew, there was a sharp pain in my stomach as she had jammed the head of her fan into my solar plexus. I was forced a few steps back as the pain was too intense. I tried to do the same to her pretty face with both my nightsticks, but she simply backflipped out of my reach, simultaneously kicking my main weapons out of my hands. Like a shuriken, she threw the fan at some pressure point on my forehead before she landed and I was pushed back.
So much pain in too short a time- as I was cupping my face with my hands, trying to hold it together from falling apart, she leapt forward and caught her fan in midair as it bounced off my throbbing brain, let herself fall and rolled on the floor before jumping high up and bringing down the fan upon the peak of my skull, blunting stabbing it.
It was at that point that I realised that the fan was made of solid steel. Blood was streaking down my face in slow, encroaching torrents, obscuring my vision as I fell backwards. Had 85% of my skull not been covered with titanium plates, my brain would have liquefied into some swirling ooze from such a strike. I had my ways of dealing with pain, and this time, I just didn't want to die.
When I went down, she was just standing there, as if toying with me, having fun watching as I winced and trembled with pain. It was as if she was waiting for me to get up. I was barely sitting up when she ran at me again. Lucky for me, I had a wonderful surprise present for her. One thing I learned about the superhero trade was to always have a plan B, or even a C,D and E.
Just when she came flying close enough, I pulled out my pepperspray and gave her a full push of the perfume. I had caught her off-guard, a full spray in the tender, pale face. Or so I thought. Her movement was too quick that it seemed her face was there for me to shoot at, but it wasn't. She had already twisted her face away as she jumped for a reason beyond me. What I saw was just a blur outline floating like a ghost in thin air- my mind was just too slow to comprehend, what with all the abuse it was going through. I wasn't just seeing doubles, it was at least double of that.
I was not as quick. My face was there for her to kick, and so she gave me a back thrust in mid-air (so that was why she jumped). It was forceful enough to knock me back down, nearly out-cold and half-dead from shock. As I laid back, I could almost feel my soul gliding half-way upwards into the maroon sky when she interrupted me.
Crouching over me, she pulled my mask off- I felt naked and vulnerable as soon as the blue was missing. She grabbed my hair, pulling it and lifting up my head along with the black strands. I couldn't struggle; I was too drained and beaten up to. I couldn't stop myself as I knew this was it, my death day. I started crying as I coughed some blood out. Yes, I was still quite a wimp after all that I've been through- maybe that's just who I am.
"Stop mewling, you useless fuck." The demon girl slammed my head against the cement floor to shut me up. It worked, "I'm not going to kill you... At least, not yet."
"Wha- what are you going to do?" I asked weakly, the obvious stench of fear permeating my every word. Images of this sadistic, ruthless girl torturing me, killing me by dismembering my body slowly made its way into my desperate mind as I stared deep into my winning nemesis' bright red eyes. I was trying to read her eyes in a vain hope of finding even a small vein of mercy, but there was none.
"Let's just say you're supper..." The unknown girl explained, her voice constricting into a whisper as she grow ever more menacing. With an index finger, she scooped up some blood from my forehead and tasted it. I was starting to panic- some very effective scare tactic, the fact that she actually enjoyed delivering pain, drinking blood. I could see it in her face all along, "There are other motherfucking cunts out there, many others who deserve the fuck of their lives..." Demon girl explained vaguely before knocking the lights out with a punch in my face.