Fight for Control

[Starla]

Muzzle flashes filled the dark hallway, tracers flashing past her head as she hefted the heavy flag, her gloved fingers locked in a death grip around the material in her grasp. The light ahead was her goal, such a short distance but so far. Bullets smashed against the concrete around her, the sounds echoing all around her as she ran with all of her might. Sweat rolled down her cheek, damp strands of golden blonde hair stuck to her forehead and face. She could feel her warm palms damp, her breathing ragged and excited as she rushed for the light headfirst.

“I’m almost at the checkpoint. Night, Barb, now.” The light ahead of her was filled with two twin sets of armor, the amazon warriors launching headlong into the darkness with heavy rockets lifted to their shoulders. Smoke filled the air, the bright flash and roar of explosions at her back urged her on. “Got one!” Barbie’s voice cracked over the heavy headset clinging to hear ears, her triumph clear in her tone just as her radio cut out.

****. She’s down.

“Got two! Three! ****, Barb’s-” Night was cut short as well, her armored corpse flying past Starla as she pushed through the bright flash of light. Bursting into the barren desert above the long, dark tunnel, she was only feet from her goal as she rushed forward. The world around her filled with smoke before a bright flash nearly blinded her. A loud ringing filled her ears before a bullet blasted through the visor over her left eye. The bullet burrowed through her eye, and the world went black.

Jumping to her feet, Starla ripped the headset from her ears and threw it onto the desk with enough force to shatter the earpieces, stereo components flying through the air as she picked up her keyboard with a shout of frustration. “God ******* damnit, Cheri, what the **** is wrong with you? I should ******* kill you!” She lifted the keyboard and swung it violently at the girl sitting at the end of the table, red hair flashing through the air as she shoved her seat away from the table, the keyboard flying through the air to crash against the wall. They keyboard exploded into a thousand pieces of plastic, keys flying everywhere with a soft clatter as they rolled across the rubber matt floor.

Opposite them, the boys lifted their hands in a high-five, laughing wildly as they stood and cheered one another, shoving and rubbing the head of the one in the center, the core of their team, and the only one left alive at the end of the match. Rage bubbled up inside of the blonde captain, her freckles hidden in a sea of red as her face flushed with anger.

****, ****, ****.
Stupid ******* whore, I told them we had to win this one.
What the hell are we going to do?

She shoved her hand through her soft hair angrily, sopping wet curls flicking sweat across her screen as she hissed in a breath. She seethed as she watched the small, sickly looking little freak the Tryonic Titans called their captain lifted his hands in his cheer. The men around him were little and less like the sort you would think to find in competitions like this one. Stick thin and lean, they each were bones and skin, tan and glowing. Usually, when her opponent sat across the table from her, it was some pudgy, pasty sack of garbage, hardy what she would call an actual gamer.

These… freaks had just snatched their tournament spot from them on an absolute fluke.

A fluke?

No. No, this was a royal **** up. Nightshade, sitting just at her left elbow, was quietly pulling the headset from over her head, black strands of her hair clinging to the earpieces of the speakers as she peeled it away to settle it over the top of the monitor. The small Asian girl was one of her best. She had done her part, and had done it well. Her death was a miscalculation on her own part, her own failure. Barbie was pushing a piece of bubblegum into her jaws, chewing on it viciously, working out the nervous energy as she pushed herself back from the table. She was the intended sacrifice. Her survival skills were minimal, but she was an excellent kamikaze. She flicked a limp golden curl from her face and sighed, dejected.

Cherribomb was in the floor, collecting the pieces of the shattered keyboard. The loss had been entirely on her shoulders. The absolute weakest member of their group, the redhead had been lagging behind in her progression, missing training sessions and team meetings for weeks. It really showed in the match, too.

Maybe it’s time I start looking into replacing her useless ***.

The other end of the table was an empty seat, their fifth member slot still unfilled after Shadostep. The memory made her frown. Shado had been her friend, and had been impossible to replace. None of them had been the same after the accident. That was when they had started to really decline, after Shado’s funeral. It was hard, seeing someone so close to you, someone like a sister just… gone.

They needed to turn themselves around, or the Anchorage Amazons were done. She took a long, steady breath as she stepped over her fallen chair, leaving it for some cleaning staff to handle. She walked her way off the stage, shoving Cherri into the floor and sending the pieces of the keyboard scattering anew as the official lifted the hands of the Captain into the air.

From Toronto, Canada, your winners and the final seed in the North American FPS Playoffs, the Tryonic Titans!

******* Canadians.

She heard the footsteps of her team behind her, following her from the stage. The sound of their shoes against the floor made her grit her teeth, another crash of anger rolling over her. What was she supposed to do? What was she supposed to say to them?

“Just… go back to the hotel. Pack your bags if you want, I’m going home.” She lifted her hands to pull the white hood of her sweatshirt up over her head just as a hand landed on her shoulder. She turned, and looked from the hand to its owner, her rare, golden eyes trembling with the anger she only barely kept in check, staring into the dark and exotic stare of the small Nightshade. “Be careful, Star. This place isn’t safe. Maybe one of us should…”

“No. Just ******* go, and I’ll be by later. I need to clear my head, okay? We’ll talk about what we’re going to do tonight.” She snapped, and the girl shrank back, but nodded, leaving the small blonde to herself. She wheeled around, and left through the back of the building, pushing into the icy cold of the late evening. The sun was just setting beyond the city skyline, streaking the sky in purples, pinks, and oranges. She could feel tears stinging at her eyes as she shoved her fists into her pockets.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were so good… we were ******* perfect.
We were the best.
What happened to us, Shado? You were supposed to be watching us.

She shook her head angrily and tramped through the snow, her white boots caking snow and ice around the foot of the boot, flecks of snow clinging to the fur lining as she pulled her 3DS XL from her jacket and flicked the switch. Games had always helped her feel better, they had always been an outlet for her, an escape. They had always been fun. Somewhere along the way, she had realized that she was good. Really good. She had sponsors calling her, offering to pay her to travel around the country, playing video games. It had been surreal from the start. This sort of thing just didn’t happen.

But it had happened, and it had happened to her.

With a long, disappointed sigh, she pushed her earbuds in, fingers moving to flick on her iPod as she continued to walk through the snow as her 3DS finally booted up Final Fantasy Explorers. Already, she could feel herself slowly gaining control of herself. Her anger and frustration was focused, her brows knit in concentration as she walked, fingers tapping at the handheld console.

An entire dungeon passed, clearing every enemy, taking up as much of her time as she could manage with the one adventure, she came to a stop and finally looked up from the dual screens. The music in her ears still played steadily, the heavy pop metal guitar blaring in her ears as she looked from one snow dusted street corner to the next. They all looked the same, and none of them looked familiar. She sighed, and flipped the little Nintendo closed, shoving it into her pocket as she pulled out her cell phone.

She paused, tapping at the screen before she made an agitated sound and flipping the screen off. She’d forgotten.

******* Canada.

She lifted her hand to push the frozen strands of her hair from her face. The sheen of sweat had vanished a long time ago, replaced with pale, pallid flesh that shivered in the cold. She lived farther north than this, back in Alaska, but she found the cold here something fierce, something unnatural. She lifted her hands to rub at her arms as she glanced around the empty streets. Darkness had fallen some time ago, and it was clear that she was lost as ****.

She could turn back, go the way that she had come, and hope to find her way back to the expo, but it would be empty by now. The show was over, they’d lost, and everyone else had picked up their things and gone home. She could keep walking, too, and hope to stumble across the hotel, or maybe even a store or, even better, a police station. Maybe the locals could give her a ride back to where they were staying.

That sounded best, didn’t it? No matter what she decided, it was better than standing on the corner and freezing to death. Onward, she decided, and turned her music up as she stepped into the middle of the freshly dusted street. It was there, about center of the street, that she noticed the silhouette in the corner of her vision. It danced just outside of her sight, moving every time she turned her head, evading her no matter how quickly she turned, until finally she reached the sidewalk, and wheeled around completely, looking through the slowly falling snow to the empty street behind her.

Empty.

She was just being paranoid.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around the knife in her pocket. She had never needed to use it, but she had practiced, trained day and night with the little butterfly knife. Her father had even gone so far to hire her an instructor. Someone to teach her how to really be efficient with a weapon so easily concealed.

It’s important, Starla, for a girl as pretty as you to learn how to defend herself.

She still remembered his words, the outrage and the pride that they had kicked up all at once, yanking her emotions this way and that. Proud, that her father thought she was pretty, that she was worth protecting, but outraged that he would think that she couldn’t handle herself.

She soon learned how right he really was. She wasn’t prepared to fend off an attacker half her size, much less someone much larger, much more intent on… things. She shook her head, clearing it. She wasn’t doing herself any favors, psyching herself out like she was. She was being paranoid, and that’s all there was to it. Even so, the weight of the knife in her hands made her feel safer.

As she wheeled around, she came face to face with a woman nearly two feet taller than she stood, her head tipping back to look up at the giantess with a small, startled smile. “Oh!” She stepped back, stumbling as she yanked her hand from her pocket, the knife tucked neatly in her grasp, hidden from the stranger as she tumbled into the snow. She felt her jeans soak through almost instantly, the snow soft and easy to melt. She made a sound in her throat as she pushed herself to her knees, dusting off the seat of her pants as she scolded the stranger.

“Watch where you’re going. You could have broken my neck.” she grumbled, turning her eyes from her jeans to the monstrously tall woman. Something looked so wrong about her, something ghastly. She was pretty, beautiful really, but in that beauty lurked something sinister, something unnatural. She could see the way her bruised, sunken eyes followed her as she moved to stand, still holding the knife in her hand. The way she looked at her, like she was a side of beef, unnerved her. The woman didn’t move, and she certainly didn’t apologize.

A thin, deathly pale hand lifted to push long, black strands from her face as blood red lips curled into a wan smile. “Do excuse me, dear. I suppose I should be more careful.” Her eyes were blue as ice, and twice as cold. She could feel herself freezing into the snow beneath that cruel stare. The small blonde nodded, and looked over the woman’s tall frame with eyes of molten gold. She was thin, but powerful. It was obvious in the set of her muscles, the tone of her bare legs. The way she stood, with a nonchalant sort of arrogance, that told her that even as she flipped the knife in her hand open, the blade whispering as it flicked through the air, that this woman wasn’t afraid of her.

The woman bent down, face to face with her now. The tip of her nose nearly pressed to Starla’s, and her breath was a sweet, stomach churning scent that made the small blonde cringe away from her. As she did, she felt the small of her back flare to life with a white hot pain. The woman grinned, lips pulling back over a row of perfect, white teeth. Her canines were filed into fangs, sharp and dangerous, she saw, as the woman gave a gentle chuckle. “You intending to use that, or are you just trying to scare me?”

She lifted a fine, dark brow and tipped her head to the knife in Starla’s hand. The weapon was lifted between them as the small woman moved to step around her. She shook her head and pointed in the direction she had just come. “I was just leaving the Expo… walking home. Look, I don’t want any trouble.” The pain in her lower back was sharp that time, earning a small gasp of pain that caused her to nearly drop the knife. As her grip tightened around the blade again, the woman lunged at her.

She hadn’t been ready for that. She had thought, somehow, that the woman was there to help her. Now, though, as she saw the fangs flashing in the crisp light of the street lamps, she could see how completely stupid that might have been. A skirt, in this weather… she couldn’t possibly feel a thing. And the fangs. And her absurd stature… it was all a wild cocktail of insanity, all brewed together in her head as she let her paranoid delusion carry her away.

The speed with which she dodged the woman had surprised her. She felt weightless, like she could glide across the snow as she moved. Her pink Converse slipped across the snow without breaking its crust. The dark haired woman bared her fangs again and gave a hiss. She shook her head, flipping the knife in her hand, pressing the point of the blade against her wrist. The woman lunged at her again, faster this time, and this time, she dodged even faster, her body dancing out of the woman’s reach as she flashed savage, sharp claws at her abdomen. She missed, catching only the fabric of her clothes. The harsh cold clawed at her as harshly as the woman’s claws might have.

She felt a shiver run up her spine, the fine hairs on the back of her neck raising as she felt a real terror creeping up her back. What the **** was going on? How did she move like this?

The pain in her flesh was terrible, like a sharp burn left exposed to the harsh cold air. She pressed her hand to her back and felt nothing, the tattoo in her flesh fully healed long ago. She watched as the thing that looked like a woman picked itself up out of the snow and spat a mouthful of white fluff into the street. “Not going to be so easy, are you?” she snarled, and wheeled on her again. As she came at her, Starla lifted her knife and caught the woman’s cheek, slicing her face open from mouth to the corner of her eye.

She screamed, blood gushing from her face as her hand shot to her cheek. “You ******* ****. What the hell are you?” Starla lifted the knife again and shook her head, shaking her long, golden tresses free of her vision. She didn’t say anything, but smirked, and beckoned the woman forward with a crook of her finger. The tall woman shook her head in kind, and retreated into the darkness. Slowly, the blonde let loose the breath that she had been holding in, and sank to her knees.

She could feel the urgent need to vomit, the back of her throat burning with bile. The pain in her back had all but vanished when the woman had left, her body sinking into the snow as she pushed her knuckles into the icy cold.

What the **** just happened? Was that **** even real?

She shook her head and took a long, shallow breath and pushed herself upright, making her way to her feet. Every ounce of the rage she had carried with her since they had touched down in Harper Rock was gone from her, leaving her feeling so drained, but in the same instance, she was charged. She felt like she should have chased after the strange woman, she should have hunted her down and finished the business between them, whatever it might have been.

Quietly, she lifted her knife from the snow, flicking the blood from the blade as she slipped it shut again. Shoving it into her pocket, she turned to make her way back through the snow again. The next street over proved to be familiar, at least vaguely. She remembered passing it on the way to the hotel from the airport.

It wasn’t long and she was stomping the snow from her boots in the hotel lobby, her cheeks flush with the heat that washed over her in unbearable waves after the icy cold of the night air. The elevator dinged at the back of the lobby and Cherri was stepping off the car, her bags in her arms. She saw Star and gave a look of fear as she all but stepped back into the closing elevator doors. The blonde pushed her fingers through her hair and made an approach to the redhead, the girl dropping her bags to the floor as she held up her hands.

“Star, please, I know I fucked up—” her apology was punctuated by a grunt as the blonde all but lifted her off the floor in a hug. The redhead was larger than her by half, her heavy, soft frame almost weightless in her grasp. The strength of the embrace shocked her, and the redhead too. She pushed her hands into Starla’s shoulders as she settled her down on her feet. She leaned up and pushed a gentle kiss to her soft, pale cheek. “It’s okay. This gives us time for practice, time to make this really fun again. You, me, the girls. It gives us time to find a fifth. We weren’t going to go very far with the four of us anyway. We’re good, but we’re not good enough to bend tournament rules.”

Cherri nodded, the relief that flushed through her was palpable. She could feel it in the way her soft, heavy body sagged into her grasp. Starla almost laughed. She lifted her hands and pushed scarlet curls from the girl’s chubby face. “I’m really sorry about how hard I’ve been on all of you, but especially you, Cherri. You’ll learn us, and we’ll learn you. You haven’t been around long, and I put a lot of pressure on you. If you still want to go, I understand. If it makes you feel better, I would leave, too. I’ve been a real ***** this whole week. I’m not usually like this. Promise.”

The redhead did laugh, and that brought a worried smile to Starla’s lips. She wasn’t sure if she was about to be pardoned, or have a new hole torn in her. Instead, Cherri leaned down and pushed a kiss to her lips. That made her laugh, too. “Oh, Star. I’m not going anywhere. I love you guys. I was sure you were going to kick me out. Come on. Night and Barb are upstairs worrying about you.”

She bent to lift her bags, and Star grabbed one of them, slinging the strap of the messenger bag over her shoulders. She didn’t need to ask what they were worrying about. She’d discovered firsthand the truth behind the things they had heard about Harper Rock, she saw the real horror that prowled these streets at night, and she had seen it in a twin set of pools black as night. Eyes that would haunt her nights, she was sure of it.

The penthouse was a huge, spacious room with an unparalleled view of the city. The lights of the town glowed faintly beneath them as they stepped off the elevator. Nightshade’s silhouette paced back and forth in front of the long wall constructed of a giant window, her small, womanly frame moving swiftly from one side of the room to the other, pausing when the elevator opened again. “I thought you were leav- Star! Are you alright? We were worried.” Barbie didn’t leave the couch, a worn file in her hand scrubbing across her nails. She didn’t bother to look their way. “I tried to tell you girls. Star’s a big girl. She can handle herself.” She finally glanced over her slender shoulder, shooting the small blonde a wink before turning back to her task.

Starla laughed, and took the fretting Night’s hands and lowered them to her sides. She just stepped into her small frame and hugged her. They were of a height, so there wasn’t any stretching, twisting, or awkward positioning. She squeezed the girl in a tight embrace and just laughed again. “It’s okay, Night. I’m okay. Everything is fine. We are going to be fine. I talked to Cherri, and I wanted to talk to you guys, too. I’m sorry for the major ***** act. I’ve been under a lot of stress I guess and…”

Tell them, Star. Tell them about the tattoo. Tell them about the woman, and the fight.

Tell them.

“And I just really wanted to win this. For us. But it’s just not the same if I’m at your throats over it. So starting now, we’re going back to basics. We’re just going to have some fun, and just do what we do while we look for a fifth. It was dumb to do this without finding someone to fill Shado’s place.” She could see the protest cross their faces, the words already on the tips of their tongues as she held up her hand. “Shado can’t ever be replaced, but we need to have five, or we’re never going to see another tournament, no matter how good we are. I had a thought on my little walk. We stay in town. The hotel’s paid for. We’re making at least a little money regardless. We scout some local talent, see if we can’t find a little something here worth taking back home with us. What do you ladies think?”

She could see them mulling it over, watching them as they moved closer together in a tight knot to discuss the idea. As they talked, she made her way into the bar, pushing open the fridge and leaning into the icy cold box, reaching into the box to pull out a gallon jug of milk. She waited patiently, pouring herself a tall glass and pushing the jug back into the bar’s fridge as she leaned against the counter, elbows pressed against the marble counter top as she watched them. She sipped from her milk in silence, smiling to herself.

They’ll see the sense in it. It’s a sound plan.

This will give me time to find the woman, too. Find out just what the hell I saw, what the hell happened to me. And, it’ll give me time to go back to that tattoo parlor and have a nice, long chat with the chick with the needle.

She took another sip from her milk as the girls all raised their heads at once, and Night popped up over them all and gave a nod. “Yeah, we think it’ll be good to get some fresh meat from a new place. Where better, than right here where they’re holding the tournaments? You got us, Star. We’ll stick around.” She smiled, and drained her glass, pushing it across the counter with a scrape of glass against marble. She stepped around the bar and moved to sit in the wide, spacious gathering area, where they congregated on the couch. She took a round, domed egg-chair, spinning it full circle before stopping it to face them with a wild, giddy smile.

“So that settles it. We’ll stay here for the rest of the tournament and host some interviews. Maybe find a recruit or two worth our time.” She ran her hands through her hair and leaned back into the seat, letting her small, limber form sink into the contour of the chair, finally relaxing. Around these women, she could really be at peace. She knew she was safe from anything with them around her.

As her bright, golden eyes moved to the window, something dark flashed in her mind, her gaze sweeping over the white, empty streets far below. She was safe with them, but were they safe with her? That woman had come for her, there was no mistaking it. It had been deliberate, singling her out of a crowd of more than a thousand at that Expo. What was it she had been after? Was she willing to really kill them all for it? And, most confusing of all, what in the hell was she?

Nothing made sense in her head, it all felt like she was swimming through a fog, black water and white mist. She could barely tell which way was up, and which was down. She pushed her palm to her forehead and just gave a smile as Cherri moved to sit on the edge of her chair, a hand resting on her leg. “Everything going to be okay, Star? You just look a little shaken.”

The blonde looked up at her and gave a small smile, squeezing her hand. She just looked up at her, before she let go of her hand and pushed her from her seat, urging her to go join the others, to talk, to get to know them better. She, however, turned the back of her chair to them, as she lifted her thumb to her mouth, idly chewing on her manicured nail. The worry worked its way deep inside her as she pulled her legs into the chair, hiding herself inside of its protective shell. She felt that, maybe, if she stayed there, stayed quiet, that the strange woman would forget about her, that she wouldn’t find her.

Another part of her knew that was foolish, that she was being a child. Of course she couldn’t hide. She couldn’t slip the woman in the Expo and she wouldn’t slip her now. Now, she had worked herself into another worry about her friends. What would happen to them, if the woman came here, after her? What if she tracked her here, to them? She worked her fingers through her hair, soothing herself.

It’s going to be alright, Star.
You wounded her. You cut her pretty good. She isn’t going to be coming after you again.
At least, not any time soon. You need to stop worrying, before you start to rub off on the others again.
You just pulled them back from the verge of splitting apart. You need to keep them strong now, and worrying about this stupid woman that bumped into you in the snow isn’t going to help any of that. You need to just forget about it, and let it go.

Just let it go, Star.

She gave a frustrated sigh and pulled her jacket from around her shoulders, tossing it into the floor. She pushed her bare arms against the shell of the chair as she pulled herself high in the seat and pulled the book she had hidden in the crease of the seat’s lining free, flipping it open to where she had left off. The red ribbon of her bookmark dangled limply in her lap, the paper thin leather worn and torn in her hands. The book was old, and well used. It was her favorite.

As she sat in silence, legs crossed neatly beneath her as she spent the rest of her evening reading The Last Unicorn, pushing all thoughts of the strange woman and her queer walk from the expo from her mind until they were nearly forgotten. It wasn’t until, just as Starla was drifting off to sleep, that she saw the woman’s bloody red smile. The last thing she saw before the darkness of sleep swallowed her whole.

[Starla]

The past few nights had provided little and less sleep. The pain in her back returned, the ink of the tattoo burning into her flesh with every night she spent idle. She almost regretted the ******* tattoo, if she was honest with herself. It was keeping her awake, and the constant pain was making her more irritable than even before. She had kept her attitude in check, in spite of the lack of sleep, and had somehow managed to keep on her game; possibly play even better, it felt some nights. In fact, again if she was being honest with herself, she seemed much better now than she had before, and the other girls were noticing it, too.

Her reflexes were off the charts. Accuracy and reactions were unbelievable, and she was going entire nights with complete shutout rounds in almost any game they picked. She started letting the girls have her at their bests. She dominated Cherri at Call of Duty; she was actually pretty sure she made the redhead cry.

******* pussy.

It was a slaughter, even when they started to handicap her. First, she couldn’t use rifles. Then automatics. Then they left her nothing but pistols. Then the knives. Finally, they just left her with her peripherals; grenades, mines, whatever she chose to supply herself with. She only grew more determined with each restriction, more focused. The pain subsided when she pushed herself, and she could feel truly free, truly relaxed when she unleashed herself. Though, she noticed too late that as she had grown more content, Cherri had grown more distraught, more frustrated. They finally took Nightshade from her, and pitted the three of them against herself, allowing her the use of the knife and flashbangs, and nothing else.

It was a shutout match, even still.

She had never felt her hands react so quickly, her mind was razor sharp, and she was more aware of everything happening on the screen. She moved into another room, taking her television and her Xbox with her, too, to make the game more even. Let them strategize without her hearing, let them play without her hearing their screens. She turned her own television up to drown them out. Still, she couldn’t manage to die, even when she tried.

When the last match was over, and she dropped her controller into her lap, she rubbed the tips of her fingers against the bridge of her nose, applying gentle pressure to alleviate the pain behind her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had blinked. She stood quietly, kicking her discarded pants across the floor and slipped back into the sitting area of the suite, where the girls were gathered around the couches, respective televisions staring out like sentries of light in the dark room. She could hear sobbing, and knew that maybe she had been a little too harsh.

Still, though. She should be strong enough to handle a little *** kicking. Cherribomb was never the best, at any of the games that they played, and was easily the weakest link of their team, but she was still better than most. She gave a quiet sigh, and finished pouring a glass of milk, dropping the jug back into the fridge before she slipped into the living room and slid into the couch at the girl’s side. She turned her head and just gave her a smile, though she couldn’t hide the glistening streaks on her face. “Holy flying ****, Star, when did you get that ******* good? You were incredible.”

Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Cherri was stronger than she gave her credit for. Starla just gave her a smile, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, leaving behind a smudge of pink as she pat the redhead’s naked thigh. “Can’t say. Maybe it’s just you girls that make me better.” That should console her. The redhead smiled, and hugged her shoulders. She shoved her away, playfully, and laughed as she stood, tugging on the hem of her pink tank top and looked to the other two watching them intently from the other couch. There was something in their eyes that made Starla squirm.

Quickly, she had retreated from the room, and taken refuge in the huge hotel bed. It was so much nicer than her bed at home. Soft. Something a princess couldn’t even scoff at. She liked that.

She lay in the darkness, listening intently to the silence as she heard her door creak on its hinges, the sound so soft she wasn’t even sure she had heard it. She tensed in her bed, and found herself holding her breath as she listened to the soft whisper of bare feet against the carpet. She felt the bed dip, ever so lightly, as someone crept onto the mattress. When she felt a hand brush her arm, she snatched the wrist and yanked them forward, her fist flying into the assailant and catching them in the gut. She felt bare skin sink down to the spine, the ungiving bone pushed against the skin as the person above her gagged, then turned her head and vomited into the floor, fighting desperately for air.

She reached up, grasping either side of her head, ready to snap her neck in two when she saw the terror in those wide, green eyes, just before they rolled back into her skull and Cherri vomited again into the floor, just as Starla pushed her aside and scrambled to sit up. “What the ****, Cherri? I could have ******* killed you…” The redhead twitched in the bed, her body jerking lightly as she just gave a soft moan. She was out like a light, and it was her own fault.

Angrily, Starla shoved her hand through her messy golden hair and rolled the redhead into the bed, leaving her lying on her stomach. She slipped from the bed, leaving the unconscious girl to lie as she grabbed a rag and cleaned the floor.

****, something is wrong with me…

I almost killed her. I was so close that it was just as likely I’d be finding a way to hide a body as I would be cleaning up this mess…. god, what is going on? Am I really this scared?

I didn’t think so, but ****…

…I almost killed Cherri. She’s annoying, yeah… but to kill her?

She shook her head as she scrubbed at the carpet, cleaning away the last evidence of the moment before she tossed the rags into the trash. She really hoped Cherri wouldn’t remember this in the morning. She slipped back into the bed, checking the redhead’s green negligee for any splash of vomit that might have found its way down her chin. She didn’t find anything, and sighed with relief.

How the **** am I supposed to sleep, now? You gave me a ******* heart attack.

Instead, she sat at the head of the bed, resting the girl’s warm cheek against her bare thigh as she pulled her book from the bed side table. She would probably just finish her book.

With one hand, she held the book open, reading, as the other tenderly stroked through scarlet curls of the unconscious girl. She felt her tremble in her sleep, making a soft sound as warm drool spread across her thigh. She grimaced, but didn’t move to wake her. She would clean herself in the morning.

Her nails moved tenderly across the girl’s scalp as she slept, listening to her even breathing as she finally relaxed, the tension of an uneasy unconsciousness finally slipping into the relaxation of real sleep. Quietly, Starla spent the night reading from The Last Unicorn while Cherri slept in her lap. The sun was well into the sky by the time she finally woke with a groan, rolling onto her back and clutching her abdomen with a grimace of pain.

Please don’t remember.
Please don’t remember.
What the **** do I tell her if she remembers?

Her eyes finally fluttered open, grey-green orbs slowly drifting over the room as her vision swam. “Uhn, ****. What the hell happened?” She pressed her hands to her eyes and glanced around, her hand slapping at the night stand blindly.

****, her glasses.

“Hold on baby, I think you left them in the living room.” She leaned over and kissed her cheek, making the redhead jump, giving a sharp gasp of surprise. “HOLY ****! ****, Star, goddamn, you about gave me a heart attack. What the **** are you doing in my room?” The redhead pressed her hands to her chest, feeling for her clothes. She blinked, confused, and tried to squint her eyes at the blonde, working hard to focus enough to see the tank she still wore, though there wasn’t much else to accompany it. “Did we…?”

Perfect.

“You don’t remember? Oh, baby, you were an animal. You’ve got to be sore.” The redhead nodded, and clutched lightly at her abs. She groaned, and slapped blindly at the table again. Starla rolled her eyes and left the room, slipping into the sitting room to look for her glasses. It wasn’t long before the woman followed her in, stumbling blindly across the room only to bump into the couch and tumble into the cushions, collapsing in a heap with a long sigh. “I can barely ******* move… Are you sure that’s what happened?”

Star just laughed, and found her glasses setting on top of Cherri’s Xbox. “Just shut up you dumb slut, and put your eyes on. We have work to do today. Get Barbie, I’ll go grab Night. I should smack all of you for drinking so much last night. Today’s auditions.” The redhead groaned, grumbling under her breath about having to wake the bear of a blonde as she rubbed at her brow with long, thin fingers.

It’s too early for this ****.

She sighed, and turned to slip into Night’s room, claiming the East wall of the hotel. As she opened the door, she was greeted by a white wall of sunlight, Night’s naked silhouette basking in the blinding rays. Her back was arched, her defined legs stretched as far as they would reach. Her chest was thrust proudly into the air, her head tipped back until her long, chestnut hair teased the dimples in the small of her back. She turned her head, and smiled at the intrusion. “Star! Hey, did you sleep okay?” The usually somber little Asian was peppy this morning, her lithe body abandoning the pose for another, putting her weight onto one leg as the other pressed her calf into the thigh of her supporting leg, both hands reaching high over her head. She wasn’t the least phased by her nudity, or the woman standing in the doorway.

This was usual, for Hinata. She either had no shame to speak of, or was the most comfortable person in their own skin that Starla had ever met. She smiled, before she tipped her head back and craned her neck, still listening. “It’s about time to be getting ready, but I see you’re on top of that. Just try not to pull anything important, okay?”

The slender Japanese woman laughed, and dropped her hand in a slow, sweeping arc as she shifted her weight, the hard muscle in her thigh flexing as she maintained her balance. “I have to keep myself nice and flexible for you, Star.” She laughed, the sound light and full of amusement. They both know that wasn’t the real reason she insisted on practicing her yoga. Star had joined her most mornings, since the first time she had stumbled in on her ritual. It was nice to have someone by your side during something like this.

“Just don’t be too long, babe. We’re leaving soon.” She retreated into the living room again, closing the door behind her and leaving the woman to her meditation. When she turned, she was face to face with the tremendous she-bear of a blonde, her hair an absolute mess as she towered over the small, tiny frame of her leader. Her lip pulled back over one side of her mouth as she gave a sleepy growl. “The ****. Who decided to do this **** so early in the goddamn morning?” Her eyes were still half shut, her body swaying uneasily on her feet. Cherri stood under the tall woman’s arm, her face swelling where she’d obviously taken a shot to the face. She just smiled, and nudged the older woman, nearly sending her toppling into the floor.

The blonde muttered under her breath, a grumbling, droning stream of curses as she lumbered past Starla and half dragged, half supported herself with Cherri’s frame, until finally collapsing into a stool at the bar. “******* coffee, slut.” she muttered angrily, slapping the redhead across the *** and sending her into the kitchen to retrieve her morning ritual mug. The oldest of them, Barbie was having trouble keeping up with the late nights and early mornings. The coffee helped, so they kept pumping the black nectar into her, until she was back into performing shape. It tended to work perfectly. Dropping her head into her hands, the leggy thirty seven year old ran her nails through her ratty hair, shaking some of the knots free as she groaned. “It’s too goddamn early for this ****, Star. Most of these bitches won’t be out of bed before three. Can’t I just go back to bed?”

She gave a pathetic whine as Cherri finished the coffee, pressing it into her hands and leaning across the counter. “Shut up and drink. You complain more than my mom.” The blonde lashed out at her lazily, swiping at the air as the redhead danced out of her reach. A debate raged in deep, blue eyes as she glowered at the spritely redhead, weighing her desire to snap the girl’s neck, or to sit and enjoy her coffee. In the end, the coffee won, and she lifted the steamy mug to her lips with nothing more than a "**** off,” and a flick of her middle finger before she set to drinking the bittersweet drink.

Hiding a yawn behind her hand, Starla moved back to her bedroom, the door still standing wide open as she paused in the doorway. “Remember, ladies, I need you in top shape today. We’re weeding out the **** to find our diamond in the rough. I can’t have you girls ******* off and losing to some scrubs.” She turned, then, and ducked into her room. Once inside, she shut the door, thankful for the isolation at last.

She dropped her head back, letting it rest against the door as she closed her eyes. It was going to be a long, long day. First, they’d managed to talk the staff into lending them the Expo for a few hours. After that, there was a cyber café just outside the Honeymead train station. They were bound to find a LAN party there. Quietly, she moved through her room, plucking the pink tank that clung to her from the night before from her body, wadding it into a cotton ball and tossing it into the floor, before she stepped out onto the balcony, letting the icy cold air cut through her.

Naked, but for a skimpy undergarment, she let the blast of fresh air invigorate her. She smiled into the sun as it kissed the North side of the building. She remained there in silence, letting her silky blonde hair blow about her face, her flesh tingling with an icy numbness that always came with goosebumps. She arced her back, stretching as her shoulders shivered. Pleased, she turned to head back inside, and searched through her clothes.

Tight, denim skirt and a white crop top, with her white leather jacket and a pair of white heels, she decided, laying them out across the messy bed as she finally pulled aside her thong and let it fall into the floor alongside her tank, before she strode into the shower. The water was hot, straight out of the showerhead, thanks to the time she spent in the icy air outside. She gave a low groan of pleasure from the heat, and let the water wash over her, steam filling the tremendously spacious bathroom.

Another forty five minutes, and she was sliding from the bathroom and back into the bed, naked as the day she was born, but prepped and ready. Her hair was washed and dried, her makeup neat and immaculate. Her nails were freshly painted, and her lip gloss was new, a glittery sheen lighting up her smile as she shrugged into her clothes. As she buckled the straps on her heels, Hinata pushed into her room without announcing herself, dressed and ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

Starla, all in white, was the exact opposite of the slender Asian, clad head to toe in black, her boots tapping against the hardwood floor as she smiled. Tight latex pants clung to her legs like another skin, her cotton tee barely reaching her navel. A studded belt rested askew of her hips, a matching studded bracelet on her left wrist and a watch on her right, the ensemble completed with a simple black cap that kept her immaculately straight strands of silky chocolate hair in control. She tipped her head, and nodded her approval. “You look hot.” she said with a grin, and pushed the door open wide with her hip. “You ready to knock them dead?”

Starla laughed, pulling her hair back over her shoulders as she slipped into her jacket. “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be. Those other two ready to go, or did they happen to kill each other while I was getting ready?” The pale Asian placed a finger between her lips and put on a thoughtful expression. “I think I might have heard Barbie saying something about killing some stupid firecrotch bimbo? Something to that effect, anyway.” She shrugged, and gave a light laugh as Starla rolled her golden eyes, standing and tucking her 3DS into her jacket pocket.

She slipped through the door, past Hinata to the living room, where Caroline and Cherri waited, sitting at the bar. Cherri wore a red dress, barely reaching past her hips, and bare shoulders. A slinky little number, to be sure, and one of her favorites. Barbie wore a hot pink bustier, with a tight pair of denim jeans. Alone, each of them were astounding, rendering people speechless wherever they turned. Together, they were like to stop hearts on every street corner from here to the Expo. And that was the idea. Attract attention, draw a crowd. Let the word spread for itself that the Anchorage Amazons were recruiting.

She smirked, and ran a nail along her wrist as she thought. If they did happen to pick up a local, provided there was any talent around to make the cut, they were going to have to change the name of the team. They wouldn’t all be from Anchorage, anymore.

That was a big if, though, and today would show them exactly what kind of talent they were going to have to be working with.

The excitement they shared was almost palpable. She could feel it in the air, like an electrical current arcing across her skin, making every nerve in her body tingle with anticipation. She gave them a smile, and pulled her phone from her pocket, texting their friends at the Expo. “Alright girls, it’s time to hit this town where it hurts.”

They descended the elevator, the trip from penthouse to ground floor long, and fraught with stops for passengers coming and going on and off the car. When the stainless steel doors finally slid open on the ground floor lobby, they were all ready. The nerves, the jitters, the nervousness was all gone; vanished. The nervous girls that had entered the elevator car had metamorphosed into a quad of stone cold women, determined in their mission.

As they sauntered through the lobby, Starla plucked a bill from her wallet and laid the Fifty note in the chauffer’s hand as he held the door for each of the four women climbing into the stretch Escalade waiting for them in the parking lot. The Expo wasn’t a long distance from the hotel, but after the night of the competition, Starla wasn’t willing to take chances with another chance encounter with the demon woman she had narrowly escaped.

Just thinking about it sent an icy cold feeling down her spine, like just the quick thought had set the creature’s gaze on her, like she was being watched.

“The Expo, please, Francois. And try to make a show of it, will you?” She flashed the man a smile in his mirror, before she turned to the girls. The conversation was frivolous, mostly nattering about what they were going to be looking for in their competitors.

Barbie, of course, wanted a hot young thing, some girl she could find her way easily into her pants. Her mind was always in one place. In reality, though, her reasoning was a little more sound than what Starla made it sound. She wanted someone young, quick to learn and easy to train. She wanted someone that was going to be on the team long term, that they wouldn’t have to worry about getting “too old” for this sport.

If they had to worry about that with anyone, it was Barbie herself. She was pushing forty now, and they had all feared that their glory days were over. Their gameplay was on a decline, and that was going to leave the woman aging and empty handed after a twelve year run as a champion gamer.

When the team went, the sponsors went, and with the sponsors went the cash flow. She would be left middle aged and with little to no work history to speak of. It was not a position she wanted to ever see Caroline fall into. As long as she could manage it, Starla intended for their team to be the best. They had a rough patch after losing Quentyn, Shadostep, but the girl wasn’t irreplaceable. They would find their way to the top again, and they were going to do it fast. She didn’t just know it, but she could feel it, she could see it happening, and soon.

Nightshade wanted another Asian, someone with a mind like her own, that played smart. She wanted someone that shared her culture, her feelings on the tactics they used, someone she could meld with, like she had with Starla, but on a completely new level.

She wants another her, is what she wants.

“Besides,” she said cheerfully as she watched the city roll past them outside the tinted windows, a huge, mischievous grin on her face as she turned to face the rest of them, “everyone knows Asians are the best gamers. Best in bed, too! So there you are, Barb, something for me and a little something for you!” They all laughed, and Caroline leaned over to shove the tall Asian into the Escalade door.

Cherri had her own ideas for what they should be looking for, but frankly, she was still fresh to the team herself, and Starla didn’t think she really quite had the grasp on what it was they were really looking for. She just seemed to parrot a little of what both of the other girls wanted, with a little sprinkle of her own ideas, too timid to really say what she felt like saying. Starla could see it in her eyes when she looked at them. She was still terrified of getting her *** kicked from the team. Rightly so, too. Starla had half a mind to send her packing if they found a couple of able, gifted girls to take her place.

Maybe.

This is a lot harder than people think it is. I have to worry about them all, not just individually, but as a group. What I do to save one, could hurt the others just as easily. Maybe today will be different. Maybe today she’ll show us some serious skill, and I won’t have to worry about this again. Maybe.

God, I really ******* hope.

She lifted a hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose, relieving the pressure behind her eyes again as she heard Hinata turn to her and ask, “What about you, Star? What are you looking for in our new recruit? You haven’t said a thing about it, and you’re the one that gets to make the decision. So tell us what we’re looking for.”

When she opened her eyes, the molten gold of her stare was swimming in tears that she blinked away, her hand falling from her face. She glanced out the window for a long moment; so long that they were just turning back to one another to resume their conversation when she finally answered. It was a simple answer, really. Obvious, if you really thought about it. “Skill, ladies. Skill, determination, drive, and hunger. She has to be hungry for this. She has to want it, she has to be willing to fight for it. Someone I can know, without a doubt, she really wants to be here.” She turned back to them, then, and look them each in the eye.

The gold of her stare danced in the passing light of the city around them, the sunlight reflecting off buildings and statues and fountains causing the color of her eyes to flash. “I have to know I can trust that she’s going to do everything she can to be here, like I know I have from each and every one of you. More than that, though, I am looking for a friend; a comrade. A sister; a soulmate. I’m looking for someone that is going to fit. We are a team; a single, unstoppable unit. Not just four great gamers, but one of the greatest gaming powerhouses in the world. I have to know that, whoever she is, that she is going to be one with us.”

She nodded, punctuating her thought and sinking back into her seat, her powerful stare watching them for a moment longer before she turned her eyes back out into the street. The rest of the ride was in silence, as they let the power of what she said really settle into them.

They know.

They know that there’s something wrong… but how do I tell them? How do I tell them that some woman, some… thing attacked me in the middle of the street? That I cut open her face and she didn’t even slow down? How do I even describe that dead look in her eyes, or the way her teeth looked fit to rip me apart?

I can’t tell them. I can’t tell them, and I can’t keep them safe. Not alone.

****, what am I supposed to do? She’s out there… somewhere. Watching me.

She hooked a curl of gold around her ear as the Escalade rolled into the parking lot at the Expo. As they stepped out, a crowd of young women and their families, friends, neighbors, dogs, whoever they had brought with them, waited. They were mobbed as soon as they stepped out of the car, the throng of people pushing in against the rope that kept them at bay. Every step she took, Starla had a video game case, or a strategy guide, or a controller, a console, a picture, a book, dozens of things tossed in her face, begging for a signature. A set of twins opened their shirts for a signature across their chests, and Star couldn’t help but oblige, of course.

Today was entirely about publicity. Not a one of them would leave unsatisfied. Behind her, the girls were haphazardly given things by their fans, each person selecting their favorites, or collecting the full set of signatures. Barbie was almost as big a hit as Starla herself, her fame stretching across years further than her own had, she had a fan base that spanned the globe, much the same as Star had. She blew a kiss to the crowd, and wrote her phone number down, tucking it into the same twins’ shirts that had asked for Star’s signature. That only made her laugh. She pushed her hair from her face as she waited at the door, finally the four of them pushing their way inside, the crowd sated for the time being.

Inside, the Expo was nothing like the night before. Empty, the huge building was cold and lifeless; nothing like the writhing pit of blinding heat and white light that filled the walls the night of the competition. Tonight was a much more intimate affair, as teams of four were going to be going up against the four of them, fighting for a spot in the tournaments against the other teams that they chose. Among the teams that went to the tournament, each match was going to be watched by them, the more gifted players were going to be selected, the weak links culled from the field, until the tournament broke down into a one versus one. The final fights would be against the four of them, each of them gauging their experience first hand.

Each team was allowed five minutes of strategy and prep before the matches, once they had learned what the map and match type was going to be. The game selected for the day was the game they pushed competition on. Halo.

The event that unfolded throughout the day was a complete massacre. Most of the girls were garbage; pretty faces that had some boyfriend or a parent pushing them to come in and try out, like it was some sort of game. This was their livelihoods; it was more than just some game to them. With an angry sigh, Starla set her headset on her keyboard and pushed herself back from the desk. Six teams in, and only one of them had shown any kind of promise at all. To be sure, there were a dozen left, and twice that many slated for the next day. None of them, however, really struck her. She glanced to her girls, and knit her brows.

“What do you think, ladies? So far, this has been a very lackluster search.” The others nodded their heads, agreeing that the selection had been less than satisfactory to now. She sighed, and pressed the pads of her fingers into her eyes to alleviate the pain. She waited there a moment, her face in her hands as she thought. When she finally lifted her head again, she pushed her hands through her hair. “Let’s get something to eat. We can continue this idiocy after lunch.” She stood, without looking back to them, and moved into the waiting room, where the other forty eight women waited, sitting together and talking.

Some were laughing and cutting up, others reading magazines, books, strategy guides, some playing on their phones, others still just trying to keep themselves calm while they waited. She watched them, a serious set to her face as she waited in silence to just observe. When she’d seen enough, she pushed her way into the room. “Alright ladies, listen up. Listen good. If you aren’t serious about wanting to be here, leave now. If you’re just some casual skank, riding her man’s dick while he does some tea bagging ******** on a shitty Call of Duty server, leave now. If you can’t finish the ******* campaign without handing over the controller to the big kids, or cheesing down the difficulty, then leave now. If you just ******* suck, and wanted to be here to see us, you’ve seen us. Leave now, and stop wasting our time. We’re looking for serious gamers that deserve to be here. If you don’t fit that bill, then get the **** out.”

She didn’t wait to see who had stayed and who had left. She turned on a heel and slammed the door behind her. When she rejoined the girls, she fell into her seat with a loud, drawn sigh and slumped into the curve of the chair. The other girls watched her closely, before she turned to them and gave them a smile. “That should have thinned the herd a little.” She laughed, and the other girls finally smiled.

“So savage, Star. I think we should be a little more frightened of you than we already are.” The others chuckled at Nightshade, and Barbie shook out her hair, checking her makeup in a compact as she shrugged her bare shoulders. “I’m with you though, girl. If they can’t tweak a joystick, they aren’t worth my time. There’s got to be some real talent here somewhere.” Star nodded, and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe it was sitting right under their noses. Leaving now could seriously cost them.

She sighed, and put her headset back on. “Send in the next group.”

The rest of the afternoon went much better. The teams that met them were fierce, some of them frighteningly good, compared to the garbage that had played them before. No matter how good they were, though, all of them failed to win a single match. Several of them impressed, though, and in the end six teams were chosen for the tournament.

By that time, the sun was low in the sky, and they still had plans for crashing the LAN party at Station Net Café. Star glanced at her watch, wrinkling her nose before she looked to the twenty four women that remained. “Tomorrow morning, ten o’clock. Do not be late. You miss your slot, you’re out. Go home, get rest, and bring your game. The easy part’s over now.”

As they filed out of the room, Star turned to the rest of her group and gave them a weary smile. They were finally done, and it was time for a much less formal sort of search; one much more promising than this overdone publicity stunt. She lifted her jacket from the back of her seat and draped it over her shoulders. “You girls up for a train ride?”