The Spiralling

Chapter 15: Dead End

Hit-Girl was riding a purple motorbike towards her second destination, determined to avenge her stepfather. Images were flashing in her head, pictures of her real father and herself training together, pictures of Damon shooting her in the Kevlar-protected chest to get her ready for a real gunplay. There were memories of their first few missions together, how his father as Big Daddy had protected her whenever they were in trouble, until one day, she was able to stand on her own as a one-girl army. A smile rose on her lips as she was nearing her destination.

Then there were the later times, when she met Kick-Ass, whom she regarded as a comrade even before they met, despite her father's disapproval, 'He should call himself Ass-kicked, instead *snicker*'. She had watched on a television wired to her father's concealed camera, how he took down a warehouse full of Frank's men, and she had watched him burn half-way to heaven (she would like to think he went to heaven, not the alternative), had a final talk with him before he completed the journey. Her smile faded as she was nearing her destination.

It was utterly familiar somehow- a blocky apartment building with fences around it. Somehow, she just could not recall what gave her that thought. Pausing for a moment in contemplation, she decided to ignore her feelings and went ahead with her operations. Drawing her pair of twin pistols, she took cover by the entrance in the fencing, her every senses stretched beyond normal limits to detect anyone on the other side. There was nothing. Moving on swiftly but silently, her guns ahead of her, she reached the main door of the apartment.

Like a cat, she paused for a second and listened. Silence. Slowly, she twisted the door knob and created a small gap to listen better through. Still silence. Careful not to cause any creaking or banging, she opened wide the door and, cautiously, made her way slowly along the corridor- it was dark, and bare. It was ideal for Hit-Girl to conceal herself.

Kick-Ass, or Dave Lizewski was a brother-in-arms to her. When he had allowed himself to be tricked like a naive, unknowing boy, Hit-Girl felt betrayed, disappointed, the first time she had felt these two emotions so strongly. She had wanted to slit his throat where he sat, miserably beaten three quarters to pulp, and end his suffering on the spot. She had wanted to crash the Mist Mobile straight into the solid wall of a building to kill them both outright, to end both their suffering. She had wanted to put a bullet through his head after she had brought him to her home.

"You hate him, yes?" A voice as young and feminine as Hit-Girl's said. It was right behind the 10-year-old vigilante. Spinning around blindingly fast, she unleashed a volley of well-placed shots, but in the gun-blaze she couldn't see who the voice belonged to. Then there it was again- this time a sickening, playful giggle.

"No..." Against all that her training had taught her, Hit-Girl whispered to herself. Despite Dave's hand in her father's death, it was purely unintentional- the true, guilty culprits had been the D'Amico. Besides, the senior grader helped her after that, made defeating Frank and avenging his true father a reality. Yet, had there been a choice between the two ways her life could turn out... Had Dave been a little smarter to make that choice for her like a true elder person would...

"Yes, you do." The voice said again, playful as it was. It came from the front. Hit-Girl, reversing what she did earlier to face her front again, fired at where Demoness was supposed to be, but again, there was no dead body when there should be. A door opened and slammed shut as she was unloading her magazine at the wall ahead of her. Whatever she was up against, it was either she had regressed too far in her abilities, or the Demoness was too much of a match for her.

As she made her way towards the door that seemed to have moved on its own, there were voices coming from the room behind the door. There was some light issuing from the gap underneath. Hit-Girl knew what to do, her years of training had not been lost after the months of trying to be normal- There was only one entrance, one exit. The room was just begging to be raided.

The door was too heavy, and she was just too young, short and light, so it was a little different for her. Pressing the muzzle of her left pistol to the door knob, Hit-Girl disabled it with a single shot, and she proceeded to kick open the door. It flew open obediently, but nothing was behind it with the exception of a table, chair and window. The small apartment room was not brightly lit, but lit well enough. The walls were laced with all manner of firearms from small, girlish pistols to a bazooka. Something about it seemed very, very familiar. Leaning against a wall that blocked her from the rest of the room, she took a deep breath, and made a rush for it- there was again, nothing but walls and guns, featureless furniture, "What the fuck?"

"Dave's no different from the bad guys..." Demoness said- from where she heard it from, she was no more than ten feet away from her. 'How did she get behind me?' Was occupying Hit-Girl's brain as she turned around for the third time again to fire on her sworn enemy, but again, there were no results.

"Where are you!" Mindy shrieked in a mix of anger and frustration, before going into a mad frenzy trying to find where her new nemesis might be. She poked her head out the window only to find dirt and grass and she spent all her bullets on the entrance door only to hear the wood cry and not Demoness.

"Here." Demoness replied- she was somehow seated behind the table as Mindy was shooting at the door. The girl in purple could barely turn around to face her enemy when she was shot in the chest. Shocked, she stumbled backwards and fell against the very door she was taking her anger out on. As a fighter, Hit-Girl was trained to avoid getting shot or hit in the face, what with a 100% chance that she would always be the youngest and weakest in a fight. A few kicks and punches from Frank was enough to incapacitate her. A clear shot was easily far more than what the pre-pubescent girl could bear. The Demoness giggled again, in her usual sweet-yet-disturbing fashion.

"Didn't expect me there, didn't you?" The near-albino taunted mischievously as she approached the severely wounded Hit-Girl, who was slumped in a corner, cursing and moaning and covering the gaping hole in her left shoulder that was pouring blood out by the cupfuls with her gloved hand. Mindy's vest did not protect her this time- the bullet had punched right through the material and trauma plate. Thankfully, it missed her lungs and heart, though she suspected that it was intentional.

Hit-Girl was never one of those who would give up. As impossible to win as it is, with a violently trembling hand she reached for one of her dropped pistols. 'If I could reload it...' She thought faintly, the hope of prevailing not extinguished in her, until the now clearly visible Demoness put a metal-bound foot on her gun and slid it away. She could hear a crack- one of her fingers might be broken from where her nemesis had stepped on, but the pain was nothing but an itch compared to the throbbing nightmare in her chest and spreading everywhere else, "Not so fast, Hit-Girl..."

"Looks like it's my turn again..." Demoness said after crouching down to bring her eyes closer to her counterpart's. It was then that it was all clear to Hit-Girl- what has been going on all this while, and it wasn't pretty. She knew the reason why the apartment had been so familiar. Her eyes wide with terror, she tried to back away from the living nightmare, only there was no more space left behind her to compress herself into.

"No... Please..." It was the first time Mindy begged anyone, not counting the previous times, "No..." Before anything else happened, she passed out, and the world became dark to her again, a cage.

Meanwhile...

"Is she late?" Michael asked me as everyone was just idling around waiting in the same alleyway dead end that we congregated in earlier. Everyone had returned, including Aldan, his sidekick and me, except for our star attraction, Hit-Girl. It has been 30 minutes since I came back empty-handed from ringing every single doorbell in a 3-level apartment and exploring an abandoned one, "She could be in trouble..."

"No way, she's one real bad ass, she'd have contacted me if she needs help." I mumbled as I was practicing with my utility pouches- testing myself to see how fast I could draw my equipment, I looked like a moron while I was aggressively pillaging my own pockets for items, "Not that she needs help."

"She is but a young lady, Kick-Ass." The Grandmaster said in response to his sidekick's views. To tell you the truth, I kind of agreed with Yoda here, that even Mindy could still get into things beyond what she could really handle- if you've seen what I've seen during our little show at Rasul's (had it not been for Big Daddy, she would've been dead) and the D'Amico Skyscraper where she was almost blasted to bits by one of Frank's men had it not been my intervention.

"Dude, I've learnt to stop looking at age ever since Hit-Girl came along and now with Demoness..." I went on as politely as I could. Good guys can't be good guys for long if you get on the wrong side with them. Look at where all the comic-book villains end up when they decided at the beginning of their story to rule the world.

"Looking for me?" Hit-Girl said as she was walking down the alleyway towards our end- I was relieved I was right, it would mean I was less of a loser, less of a jerk, but then again, it didn't last long, it never did. When Mindy stepped into the light, I was unpleasantly surprised- it wasn't her. As of now, I was still surprised how similar their voice sounded like- I guess we all sounded the same as children. The same thought must have crossed all our minds when Demoness decided to pay us a visit.

"Where's Hit Girl?" I demanded from our greatest adversary as she approached us closer and closer. I had to admit, I was intimidated. Had it not been for Grandmaster and his sidekick I would have fled. Together, we formed a line against her, the way superheroes would at the back of my brain, or at least the part of it that takes care of fantasies, "Where is she?"

"Oh, she's safe." Demoness said with a grin on her face, that sickening grin that shouldn't even be on a child's face, the kind of grin that carries the entire weight of the world's vices on its lips, "If you want her back, I'd keep it simple: Don't fuck with me." At the corner of my eyes, I saw Grandmaster and his apprentice, Michael, nodding to each other, as if they were telepathic- I could see professor X in the old man. Had it not been for my maturity I would've believed Aldan was him except in disguise. Then he nodded to me, and I did the same. I was confused, but I had some idea as to what to do. The range was close enough, or rather, at least I thought so back then.

I quick-drew my tasers and fired them, but I was simply too slow- all my target had to do was cart-wheel to my left way out of my aim. Michael unsheathed his long sword and rushed forward in a corner, flanking Demoness to my right. I knew what the agenda was- to capture our dear girl here, and it would all end there and then, except, it was a little harder than it sounds, especially when I heard the 'shink' from Demoness drawing her twin Katanas out.

"Let's dance!" The girl in black and silver exclaimed as she lowered her stance into a high crouch, her swords outstretched. She was like a dangerous flower of doom, a hungry Venus Flytrap ready to swallow its next prey, and we're it. I'll admit, leave me alone, and I won't ever come anywhere close to her, but with my justice friends around, that's another story- the sheer terror I felt in my first encounter with her was reduced to slight sheer terror.

"Nevaeh, wait, let us talk." The Grandmaster tried relating to his daughter- diplomacy was a good idea, it was a wonder why I never thought about that. My guess was ever since failing to move with my words for like ever, I threw diplomacy out a long time ago when it comes to crooks.

"What did you call me?" The Demoness replied.

"Nevaeh Bonitus, I am your father, Aldan Bonitus." Aldan proclaimed his relationship with the Demoness. There was silence after that- the white-haired girl did not so much as express anything at first, but there was soon a short burst of laughter from her.

"You're not my father, fuck-face." With that, she retreated backwards and Aldan wore a shocked expression on his face- He certainly did not expect that sort of a reaction from his own daughter.

"Michael, look out!" I shouted after realising which direction Demoness was heading- his. Being a sidekick, I had doubts about his ability. Being sort of one myself, I knew it meant being the less capable, one who played only a supporting role, and it doesn't just happen in comic books. The youthful swordsman pointed his sword forward and got into a ready stance, refusing to budge. Aldan and I knew that it was a bad mistake, and we made a rush towards him, only, we were just too far away.

Their swords clashed. The 12-year-old was delivering blow after blow non-stop, and Michael was making full use of his buckler and his long sword to block. We weren't able to make it half way to him before his right leg was severed and the Demoness planted her sword into his back where he fell. We couldn't even catch up with him when she removed her Katana forcefully and ran off.

"Michael!" The Grandmaster screamed as he approached him and knelt down quickly. I could only watch as he frantically check to see if his sidekick was alive- but there was no chance of it. The biggest difference between real-life and the media was the way death was handled. In movies, or books, characters would always die either in the most dramatic, heroic fashion or an absolutely worst way. In real-life, we just cease to exist. In the media, people return from the dead and in real-life, we simply don't.

I could only watch as Grandmaster paid his final respects to his apprentice, closing his eyes when he remained open and positioning the corpse properly- with the limbs straight and the sword on his chest. I was never meant to be in the world of the insecure, I was never meant to see death beyond my mother at such a tender age- but here I am, and there was nothing I could do, "It's not anybody's fault... He understood how much your daughter meant to you." Was all I could or dare to say- I've had bad experiences with speech.

"I cannot stop. I need to reunite with my daughter, and more will perish in her wake should I fail..." The Grandmaster mumbled to himself sorrowfully as he rose, and left as if there were more weight than his medieval gear on his shoulders- I could feel it, my shoulders were positively loaded with a tonne of my personal kryptonite. With half our initial line-up gone, we stood no chance at all to win the old-fashioned way. What's next? God knows, I was never a planner.