Fight for Control
Posted: 31 Jan 2016, 22:04
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.
“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.