2.A Shadow Cast Before Me

Taylor watched the footage being recorded by the hidden cameras she had installed in Emma's house, changing between them periodically. Emma's house was closer to the shopping center she had visited that her own was, of course, but she hadn't arrived yet.

The assault had affected her and she was walking back home slowly, afraid of every shadow. She had made her aware of how vulnerable people were, once again. She knew this without a doubt, because she also checked her phone constantly, to act if she tried to inform the authorities… or Shadow Stalker. Well, she was also one, though she hated to admit it.

Her mother was in the kitchen, preparing beef stew for dinner, she presumed, while humming Red River Valley. Then, she broke into song. Her voice resounded in the basement, coming through the speakers of her computer.

"From this valley they say you are going… we will miss your bright eyes and sweet smiiiiile..."

When she had be monitoring Emma, she had also done investigated her parents. She had wanted to be a singer, had made a few tries but married and gave up on her dream. A shame. She had a good voice.

Somebody rang the bell. Taylor switched cameras, to one who had a good view of the front door, just in time to see Emma open it. She looked worn, but she couldn't bring herself to felt bad about it. She was simply getting a taste of what she had done to her, repeatedly, without doubting or feeling remorse about it.

Yes, of course. Except… she hadn't needed to get violent with her, back at the alley. She could have easily subdued her without harming her. And she had took pleasure in it.

Emma's mother, Alessa, stopped and went to greet her daughter. The smile on her face, a smile of love, made her stomach turn and she wasn't even sure why.

"Did you have a good time with your friends, dear?"

"Ah, yes. Yes, I did." she wasn't doing a good job at feigning normalcy, skittish, her eyes incapable of staying fixed in one place. It was a good thing she hadn't left bruises in visible places, because she couldn't have been able to think of a convincing cover story.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Y-yes. I'm just a little bit tired, mom. I'm going to my room."

As Alessa watched her daughter go up the stairs, the light in her eyes died a slow death. The pitch black past had come back to haunt her.

Taylor 'walked' with Emma to her bedroom, from camera to camera. There were more camera's installed there that in the entire house, so she could see everything from several angles. Emma got in her bed, lifted the covers up to her neck and stayed there, lightly trembling. For a moment, she feared she would have a panic attack strong enough to kill her.

Dying at this point meant she would get away with everything. There was no point to what she had done if Emma didn't have to live with her pain and the changed circumstances.

This was her way of copping, Taylor guessed. Locking herself in her room, going away from the world, from anything that could hurt her. Not so different from herself, in the end.

Emma's phone was in the pocket of her skirt.

Taylor hacked into it and got a record of her conversations, recovering the ones she had deleted. She found what she had expected: proof that she hadn't lied in an attempt to intimidate her, that Sophia Hess was really a Ward.

Damn. While monitoring her, she had checked every text she sent and received and listened to each call. She had thought that would be enough for her purposes. She had seen some of her conversations with Sophia and had downloaded the ones in which they planned ways to bully her into her own phone, as evidence. But she hadn't checked the deleted data, because she hadn't even imagined she would have a secret of this caliber.

She wouldn't make that mistake again.

Emma grabbed her phone. She watched, waiting to see what she was doing with it. Her approached one of the keys, she was going to type a one.

"Oh, you bitch." Taylor said, conversationally. She wasn't going to let her continue. She had Sophia's number on speed dial, and one was the number she need to type to call her.

She interrupted her typing. White, stylized letters appeared on her screen, in front of a broken Z on a dark background. They read: STOP. She did, her in face twisted in panic and confusion. Taylor called her. Calls she made from this phone couldn't be tracked, unless she wanted to. Or if the one doing the tracking was just as good or better that her at this. Emma picked up, the hand holding the phone trembling.

"W-who's this?"

"You know who I am." she said, with her distorted voice. "I told you I always have eyes on you. You should have listened. You were going to tell her, right?"

"I, no..."

"Don't lie to me."

"Are you a Parahuman?"

"Don't say anything unless I ask you first. You have been trying my patience already, don't make me lose it, all right?"

"Yes. I understand."

"I will make things clear, because it seems you need it. If you try anything, I will know. Even if you manage to contact the Protectorate, to inform them of what I have done to you today, you won't win. I have been monitoring you for a month, so I have lots of blackmail material. I will speak too and I have a louder voice, and more things to say. Let's see what happens then. Your choice."

"...I won't do it again."

"Good girl."

Taylor hung up.

Emma got out of bed and looked around her room, searching for what she was monitoring her with. Amusing, but futile. She wouldn't find anything, unless she picked up a hammer or some other heavy tool and smashed the walls and the floor.

Even if she found them, there was nothing she could do about it. Both of them knew it, though Taylor was the only one who admitted it. Why? Because…

"I got you now." Taylor whispered, in the darkness of the basement.

Emma: The PRT came to my house.

Sophia: Shit. What was that about?

Emma: Asked a lot of questions, to me and my mother-father was out, on a case. About our defense of you at the trial, my relationship with you, if I noticed anything suspicious going on…

Emma: I think they know about the bodies.

Sophia: Don't talk about that.

Emma: Sorry. What do we do?

Sophia: We need to talk about this, in person.

Emma: How about the alley were we meet? As good of a meeting place as any, right?

Sophia: Yeah. Okay. Let's meet there, at 11: 30 PM. Don't be late.

Sophia stepped into the alley. She was wearing civilian clothes, a white blouse with a low cut top and black pants.

Emma was nowhere to be seen, despite the urgency that the situation demanded. As she looked around, searching her surroundings, her cold eyes which reflected the moonlight seemed like the eyes of a hawk.

A valve burst. The steam enveloped her, its pressure high, making it hard to breathe. She turned her body into shadow, fearing an enemy would try to take advantage of that moment of weakness. She stepped out of the steam and went back to her normal state.

There was a construction site in front of her. On the half finished building, crouched down in the dark, she saw a person. The enemy.

The lingering pain provoked by the steam energized her body. There was no fear, no wondering why that person was after her. Only excitement over the fight which was about to happen. Because of that, she nearly forgot to grab the mask she had brought with her and put it on. She had her suspicious about this from the start, and prepared accordingly.

She took one of her crossbows from inside her coat, loaded it, and aimed. There was not much distance between them.

She could make the shot.