Rot: A worm Fanfiction

[GraphiteCrow]

And Piggot rather than allowing the Cape who VOLUNTEERED to be interrogated to leave the room which can be considered unlawful entrapment, she instead also threatened said Cape... and then enacted said threat when all she did was leave the room you were unlawfully keeping her in. Good job Pig, I hope you enjoy the lack of allies in the future, I am sure they will continue to not give a shit about your organisation or the teams you deploy when fighting the same enemies. It is a shame, I usually enjoy a more pragmatic Piggot that is used to set stupid Protectorate or Ward capes straight rather than the one who makes the stupid mistakes.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

I usually enjoy a more pragmatic Piggot that is used to set stupid Protectorate or Ward capes straight rather than the one who makes the stupid mistakes.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I was thinking about a more level headed interaction between the two, but I wanted to play with how Piggot react to a cape she believes is a both a cannibal and a complete unknown. Taylor also doesn't really help the situation either, her lack of restraint with secrets like Lung can make people think that she is similar to the dragon, one of power and actions rather than diplomacy. Hopefully they will interact in a better manner in the future...

 

[MaskedCritic]

I have no idea how you managed to make something on the level of cosmic horror as heartwarming and adorable as you have with this story. It's like watching Cthulhu be the world's best babysitter, while also playing with puppies. It's a damn shame that posting it on SB or SV would probably end up with you being in near-constant contact with content review, for reasons other than sexualization of underage characters (though there are a few scenes that are borderline in that respect...).

Somehow you've managed to create something that is potentially traumatic for younger -- or sensitive -- readers, and yet also incredibly wholesome. It's bizarre.

 

[BomeranG]

Yeah, I was thinking about a more level headed interaction between the two, but I wanted to play with how Piggot react to a cape she believes is a both a cannibal and a complete unknown. Taylor also doesn't really help the situation either, her lack of restraint with secrets like Lung can make people think that she is similar to the dragon, one of power and actions rather than diplomacy. Hopefully they will interact in a better manner in the future...

Click to shrink...

I'm not sure if it's because of how a story makes things less personal and vivid. But I don't think I can ever interact with someone who stopped me and made juvenile threats when I explained (took time even in that situation) that my girlfriend is in agony, might get brain damage and I want to go help. Well, as long as tormenting doesn't count as interacting.

 

[SensibleMalarkey]

how Piggot react to a cape she believes is a both a cannibal and a complete unknown.

Click to shrink...

That is a good point; they did just watch Frankie chainsaw a metal chair... which, from Taylor's perspective is her holding herself back. For others it's going to be dammed disturbing to watch eyeball-hair-teeth eat a chair.

There is an aspect of control as well. Piggot is being rather unreasonable yes, but if they think Izzy was attacked then they would want to control the scene, determine where the attack came from, check footage, find witnesses, yadda yadda. And having eyeball-hair-teeth flying through the halls, panicking everyone, probably won't be seen as helpful to the PRT.

I am stoked to see parkour Frankie again. Getting the guards to subdue themselves just by moving around them is remarkably satisfying.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

That is a good point; they did just watch Frankie chainsaw a metal chair... which, from Taylor's perspective is her holding herself back. For others it's going to be dammed disturbing to watch eyeball-hair-teeth eat a chair.

There is an aspect of control as well. Piggot is being rather unreasonable yes, but if they think Izzy was attacked then they would want to control the scene, determine where the attack came from, check footage, find witnesses, yadda yadda. And having eyeball-hair-teeth flying through the halls, panicking everyone, probably won't be seen as helpful to the PRT.

I am stoked to see parkour Frankie again. Getting the guards to subdue themselves just by moving around them is remarkably satisfying.

Click to shrink...

Yeah I hope that the parkour made sense, it has been a while since I've written an action sequence that had defined fighters or opponents.

As for Piggot, well she is Piggot, I'm pretty sure she knows that she fucked up in her choice. The choice between getting on a capes good side and winning severe brownie points, or following the protocol and "helping" a cape with there problem to get a favor out of them. Both of those decisions have break away value, but she should have calmed the fuck down and deliberated more, she made the choice in panic... Nobody feels failure worse than Piggot besides maybe Armsmaster.

 

[Gryphalcon]

So, yeah I seem to like to hurt Lisa...fuck I feel like shit about it...

Click to shrink...

*hugs you*

If I'm reading this right, Calvert's head might have exploded just now? That or it's referring to him shooting her in his dropped line?

In the previous chapter, Thomas was experiencing his splits in series, instead of parallel? Zoning out while his alternate played out?

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

*hugs you*

If I'm reading this right, Calvert's head might have exploded just now? That or it's referring to him shooting her in his dropped line?

In the previous chapter, Thomas was experiencing his splits in series, instead of parallel? Zoning out while his alternate played out?

Click to shrink...

No Calvert is unfortunately fine, but something with powers has definitely gone wrong. He was watching another timeline in a separate timeline, timeline overwatch or review if you will, and then it crashed in one or both...

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

I'm grinning ear to ear...

---

The depressed button flashes as the sounds of alarms and red lights flash in the room. I shouldn't have done that...

I sag in my chair as I run the last twenty minutes through my head. As a one Taylor Hebert walked for the door, I felt my panic spike. Could I really blame myself, I just watch the dangerously unknown cape rip a solid steel chair from its moorings just by standing up only to chew it apart and spit it out. She even admitted to going toe to toe with a full power Lung and not only win but put the overpowered rage cape in the hospital rather than lock-up. Doctors aren't sure if he could recover with his regeneration off of machines! The sounds of fighting long since have stopped, and I fear what level of destruction could be waiting me outside the interrogation room.

Then there is the way she acts around people. Don't think that I didn't see her look at Special Agent Dagshaw like he was just meat. Her stares didn't recognize him, he could have just been another piece of furniture. The fact that she stares with some twenty plus eyes that form in her hair...I'm surprised that Dagshaw could keep such a level head. In that moment when she was talking about Izzy, her voice told me that she was showing concern, but her posture was a story of desperate hunger. Hunched over posture, eyes locked on objects like how predators watch for their prey, she looked like an animal, like she was a starving dog, and I was in front of her food. With what I had been told by Hannah... I played the game...

I look down at the glowing button, its flash mocking me as I stew in my regret. The pain in my leg flares as I feel my heartbeat fall to a slower pace. I should have been smart instead of dangle her girlfriend like some sort of prize in exchange for information. It was reckless and stupid, fuck I'm acting like Armsamaster for Christ sake...

"Director Piggot." I look up as the speakers for the interrogation room spit out Dagshaw's voice. In the room I can see the man sitting at the interrogation table, his head in his hands even as his back faces the window. His posture belied his stress, and I can see where the man gets his greys from. "Give it to me straight, did I just royally fuck up there?" I frown at the question.

I didn't like the man when he reported to my office last week. The man had the feel of a professional who was better than his current station. Like he had the arrogance to not step aside and take a desk job, like people would just mess up his work if he handed it over to someone else. In a way I respect the man more than I like him, but he was in the way of our own investigation and our cases were made linked through the complex system of bureaucrats and national secret keeping of our respected organizations. He was also a part of the investigation team at the FBI to look into the other three letter organizations, but despite all of that he had my respect for just how stubborn he was.

I pulled many strings to get the PRT and the FBI to have joint jurisdiction on this case. I also tried many things to get this man removed from the case, going all the way up to his superior and then mine, but apparently, he had already been there. Every one of my contacts respected the man, the older gruff stereotypical detective type who's done everything from solve serial killings to investigate corruption in the CIA. I scoff, he even fucking dresses like one too.

Guess I should explain the situation to him, professional courtesy and all that.

"You just let a cape you know nothing about," we know nothing about my subconscious interjects unhelpfully at my words, "loose inside the building, right now troopers could be risking their lives against a force they are unprepared for, armed with hoses of fancy instant cement." I watch the grey haired man slump further into his chair, looking pitiful in the red flashes leaking in through the open door. "You did a better job than me," I sigh.

I watch him still at my words, I just sneer as the painful thought manifest in my throat, "I'll have to probably apologize or owe something to the cape just to make things close to as good as you did."

The man shifts to look back at the mirror, the surprise in his expression, matches the look in his brown eyes. "Look Dagshaw, when dealing with parahumans you have to understand a few things. Pretty much every one of them is ready to use their powers at a moment's notice, they enjoy using it and often choose to fight over any sense of diplomacy, it's the reason why the PRT doesn't directly employ capes just sponsors them. The other thing you need to understand is that sometimes a good rapport with a cape is more important than following protocol," I feel my sneer transform into a disappointed frown, "something I forgot just now."

"I see." He seems better, good, now I don't have to deal with a mopey old man.

"So, congratulation, you've successfully made positive relations with a cape that has extreme issues with authority," I snort and stand up from the chair, I have other things to do than wait for this to resolve. I press the button turning off the alarm, "I'd offer you a job here, but I think you'd just end up doing less here than you do in the FBI."

He is silent as I lean into the radio, "stand down and prep medical if it hasn't been done already, I'll be in my office, and call Panacea. Tell her that we got a cape in critical condition" Might as well work in some good will of my own...

---

The band of white wrapped around the bleeding cape's head, blooms with a bright crimson. I closed my com message to console and begin my assessment. I wasn't fast enough...

How?

My suit is literally designed to give me a low level mover rating, I should have been able to stop her from hitting the wall. I look up at the cracked wall, a dent in concrete just barely there, the spray of blood across the surface isn't a small amount either. I look back over the footage while I wait for medical to bring a stretcher.

I came upon the scene of the cape Izzy spasming on the ground and screaming. Her back was almost arched in a way that could have been back breaking if she continued to do it. I approached closer and called it in, looking over my footage shows me something I missed while calling it in, her face and body were twitching in pain as I spoke.

I, like a lot of my colleagues, am familiar with the term thinker headache, even seen a few take place in my career in both heroes and villains. They usually range from mild-headaches to severe migraines, and they are not commonly relieved by any amount of pharmaceutical aid. They are not typically this violent though...

After I called in for medical, I looked around for cause, briefly walking a short distance away, around ten feet. Then Izzy popped up from the ground, looking around very confused before locking on to the wall at the end of hall. I start walking over to her and almost reach her, my arm stretched out to grab at her shoulder, but then she moved.

It was odd to watch from my angle. Reaching out for her, from her blind spot no less, seemed to almost push or propel her forward. Weirder was that as soon as she cut and ran, she outpaced my machine's reflexes something that so far only certain movers have been able to accomplish. I ran after her, my armor actually pushing itself in speed to keep up at a ten foot difference. My armor's top speed is twenty-three miles per hour, slow to any speedster but way better than any normal human running speed. I watch the play back of the instant that she was near the wall, her war cry as she screamed out her target, then the dull crack of her skull slamming into the wall at a speed close to a slow moving car.

It had all happened in the span of a couple minutes, and I have no idea how long that the cape was seizing, but I feel myself privately cringe at the idea that knocking yourself in this way was seen as a better alternative than continuing to feel pain. I shake off the thought, I'm a professional I need to be in this moment. I look around the scene hoping to see if I can find some evidence, something to do rather than wait, but there is nothing and I can't leave the injured cape to investigate down the hall until she is moved.

So inefficient, I try to keep my frown in place, but my hands twitch as I try to, I could probably make medical more efficient just need to... I stop myself. No, I need to stay focused, Endbringer fight could happen anytime this month and I haven't finished the early warning system with Dragon. I could call her, it would mean that I'm at least helping while I wait... Maybe then I'll stop feeling like a failure...

That decides it for me, thinking about the Hebert case wasn't productive right now, and "mopping" about it is something Miss Militia tells me isn't worth it. I call Dragon through the internal phone system in my helm, fidgeting to myself as I wait for the connection. I don't have to wait long.

"Hey, Colin," the slight Canadian accent of Dragon's voice is accompanied by her avatar appearing on my HUD. I can feel my fingers stop twitching as she speaks, "did you need something, or is it finally time to work on the detection system?"

"Yes." I blink as the word leaves my lips before I could have thought about it, "I- uh, I wanted to know how the program was going on your side."

I want to slap myself at my accidental slip of control but stop as Dragon smiles, a virtual hand covering her avatar's mouth as she tries to keep in a giggle. "Yes, it is going well," She says amused, "or about as well as running predictive models for eighty petabytes worth of data, it has been very slow on my end unfortunately." She frowns, "I don't think that it will be ready by this attack, maybe the next if we come up with something clever." I frown too, that is disappointing, but we knew it would have been unlikely that we would finish the system in a prompt fasion. "So, what are you up to?"

"I'm currently waiting around for medical, downed cape," I respond.

"Oh, is someone on the team hurt," Dragon's eyes widen for a second, before her frown returns and her eyes narrow, "you're in the PRT building, it isn't you is it. I swear to god Colin if you ignored a piece of shrapnel again in favor of tinkering, I'm gonna send a suit."

I feel my face relax and I struggle to keep the mask of professionalism on my face, "No, it's not me or any of the team, we are currently working on the Hebert case and one of the members is hurt, Izzy."

She sighs, "Ah, okay...well no not okay, but at least it isn't you. So, you just decided to call me because your bored, am I right?"

I suppress my flinch, "No, I'm just using my time efficiently."

"Colin," her smile is pretty even when it is strained, "remember what we talked about, how people are more comfortable when you give them more attention than is necessary?"

"Yes." The concept of paying attention to someone when we are waiting for the next step in important events, is still kind of strange. If you can't speed up when people or things will arrive you might as well just tinker...

"Well, this also applies here," her sigh is strained, and the shake of her head makes me feel disappointed that I couldn't see that.

"Then what should I do," I look down at the cape at my feet. Her head was already checked and the wrap around it was already down. I'm checking her heart rate and breathing, they are slow and shallow, but they haven't changed since impact. I checked her neck for fracture, but it is fine, and she doesn't have any other injuries that I could find. So what?

"Your monitoring her vitals, right?"

"Yes."

"Then maybe you should do it without the aid of computers too."

"I- why," I lean down and place a few physical sensors on her body, a finger on her neck is all I need.

"Well, you're concerned right?"

"Yes, of course, we have an injury that was self-caused and before that the injured was showing signs of a seizure," who wouldn't be concerned it's not like pretending to monitor her vitals while I actually watch her vitals with my HUD is any more helpful.

Dragon pauses as she digests my words, "you're going to have to tell me more details later, but if your concerned about another person's wellbeing it helps to show what you are doing rather than just monitor the computers. It works better at showing you care then just standing there."

"Oh," I can imagine how people might think I'm doing nothing, the monitoring system is pretty unobservable..."I didn't think-" I pause mid-sentence as the intruder alarms go off. The hall is plunged into red lights and sounds, I can hear troopers heading for a section, but it is a bit of a ways away. "Hold-on Dragon something is going on. Console, Armsmaster calling in for a sit-rep, over."

I wait just a few seconds before I get a response, "Armsmaster this is Console, the intruder alarm in interrogation has been pressed, please be advised that medical has been delayed, your orders remain the same stick with the injured, over."

I look down at Izzy, her head bandage is now completely soaked through with blood. I adjust her status from slight bleeding to major bleeding and grab my wound kit. "Copy, Console, I suggest medical hurries, injuries are no longer a minor bleed, over."

"Copy that."

I carefully lift Izzy's head and remove the old bandage and replace it with a fresh one. I can feel my own heart rate spike as this one too blooms red far too fast. "How is she looking Colin?"

"Not good, her bleeding appears to be speeding up rather than slowing, subtle twitches show me that she is still experiencing a seizure," I pause at a thought, "Dragon, do you have any knowledge on thinker related illnesses?"

"What like a thinker seizure?" I can hear typing in the background as she starts checking her data banks. "Except for a few cases, no and in the three that match that description well the prognosis wasn't good." "How so?"

"Well even though they were seizures, medicine that you use in situations like that had zero effect, two of the cases had brain death occur after four hours of start."

"And the third," I frown as I stare at the very likely dying girl, fuck why couldn't I be some kind of medical tinker...

"You're not going to like it," I can see her grimace out of the corner of my eye, "they called in a master who, if I'm reading this right, convinced the thinker that they weren't having the seizure."

I try not to think about that. "Did they give any causes for the severe reaction?"

"No, although the living thinker stated that it involved another thinker power, so the best guess is power interaction gone very bad."

No accounting for that, power interactions are almost completely random, and their effects are similarly unpredictable. I watch the girl shiver in pain, the simple black fabric covering her eyes makes it look like she is blind. I try not to panic as I see drips of red leak from under the mask, right where eyes would be. I can't do anything...

*SHREEEEEEEEK*

The sound of nails on a chalkboard, or in this case teeth on concrete, grabs my attention away from the dying thinker. "Colin what was that," Dragon's voice is distance as I stare down the other end of the hall, "I think our connection has interference..."

It's not interference...

---

I crawl forward on all fours, my pale hands reaching out from the shadows I bring to the lighted halls. A thick red spiral denotes, hides my face, the twisted writhing shadows trailing from behind me stretch around the corner as I turned down to reach this hall. My curled mass is full of teeth that shine white like starlight next to wandering, shifting eyes that burn silver like moons, constantly flicking across my surroundings.

My eyes search through the corridor as I smell my lovely. My eyes locking on to the her as she lies bleeding behind him. Those starlight teeth start moving through the waves of black, a silent thing made loud when the darkness expands to the walls. My teeth cut gouges into the walls as a violent buzz forms, shredding concrete as I stalk forward. The hall is blocked as I approach like a storm on the horizon. A terrible calamity approaching a knight of steel and copper searching for my prize, a prize that lies just beyond him.

I have taken the form of a hungry god as I stalks to my beloved, the one I choose above all other food to trust, to be whole with and complete, our lovely Lisa...

I stand and make my way forward, I had to go through thirty troopers to get here if I have to go through Armsmaster it will be little issue. I keep myself calm or I try to okay, Lisa's condition is getting worse and with it my instincts are doing that weird thing again. I'm serious, just look how I described the scene...that is not normal. Besides now is not the time to wax poetically about being a romantic undead monster trying to save its loved one's life. This is serious, and I need to be that way.

My hair lowers from the ceiling and walls as I walk slowly and calmly walk forward. "Armsmaster, step away from L-Izzy," I have been slowly working on some of the damage with my cells that are already present in her body, but they keep getting lost and I don't have enough to work with. In my own body I have made a new organ to help. While dodging and running I formed a simple sack and started cloning Lisa's blood. She has lost a lot from her hemorrhages and the skull fracture, but I currently have three pints of genetically similar blood to replace it. The other problems are mostly inner cranial, although the skull fracture is a concern it actually has improved her survival chances.

Right now, Lisa's head is less resembling a human brain case and more a pressure cooker, she has onset encephalitis, and her brain activity is so high it is starting to swell as well. The pressure alone is worrying because it could burst a blood vessel in her brain, an aneurism, and decrease her survival time from hours to minutes. Her cracking open her skull, as much as it hurts me to say, has so far kept her from dying faster. It still doesn't solve all the other problems, but it was a good enough stall for time. She had an hour and a half from the impact...

Now I just need to move a single cape..."Frankie, I am required to ask what your intentions are," His stance is stiff as he stands over her, it doesn't look like he will move, but at least he doesn't have his weapon out. Maybe he can be talked to...

"I can save her life if I can get to her," I stop at his frown, what is with the PRT and being assholes today? "I don't want to have to move you myself, it would waste precious time."

"Do you know what is wrong with her?" He is wasting time, every second is closer and closer to reaching irreparable brain damage. I maybe really good with chemistry and biology, but I don't want to try and test to see if I can repair my girlfriend brain. It is too important, I can figure it out later... with mice...maybe.

"Yes," I list out her symptoms before adding her time frame for major brain damage to occur, roughly an hour now, it took me twenty minutes to get here because of the guards. That's twenty minutes the bitch Piggot stole from me to work. "She also has an extreme level of activity in her brain, I think her Pollentia and Gemma are leaking neurotransmitters into the rest of it."

One hour until brain damage...

He nods and steps back, as soon as he moved, I moved. Lisa's body is covered by mine, I'm sitting on her hips, as I place my hand into her mouth. "Dragon and I have been trying to determine the cause, and she thinks that it could be a power related illness, a thinker seizure." I open my hand's flesh in the privacy of Lisa's mouth and feed her my blood, the cells of the dark fluid passing through her stomach and into the rest of her body. I nod at Armsmaster's voice, power related, so I guess that means that if I can't figure out what is exactly wrong and fix it, I could always eat her Pollentia. It would mean that Lisa no longer has any powers, but I'm more than fine with that, it is will Lisa forgive me that makes it a final solution not the first.

"If it is a thinker related illness, I'm afraid that we lack the means to treat her here," I can see his frown with my hair's eyes as he continues, " and if what you say is true, there is no time to solve it like what we found."

I unzip my hoody and unbutton her dress shirt, the wet tearing rip of my chest opening along it's seam makes the hero jump, but he can't see us underneath all my hair. Good, I want privacy for this. A thin tendril emerges from my chest and I direct it to a good spot on Lisa's stomach. Yes, this one should work, close enough to the heart to get fast circulation, I press the needle like head of the tentacle into her pale flesh and dig. "What was the solution that you found?" I reach her left renal artery, I'm passing the cloned blood through her kidneys first so that her body can get used to this blood faster and to get the body to start making its own cells faster as all of this is pretty low in oxygen.

"It requires intervention by master powers," his frown is still there, but I can now smell annoyance off his breath, "the statement given said, and I'm quoting, "the master convinced the thinker that the seizure wasn't happening"."

I frown at that too. So, I just need to tell Lisa's power to stop how the f-…. Wait, would it work if I get it to stop entirely or does it mean turn off? I pump in the red blood cells through my blood sack as I think about what Lisa has told me about her thinker powers.

"I was wondering, do your anti-thinker powers work on Izzy?"

Armsmaster is apparently on the same page as me. I feel a jolt of pain roll through Lisa's body, and watch as her brain activity spikes to full coverage, before going back down again. The fever in her skull has gotten hotter, and my cells scream at me as I watch her brain cells die by the hundreds. I bend down and lick up Lisa's red tears, mostly it is to keep me calm, she isn't in too much trouble until we reach the thousands...

Forty-five minutes to permanent brain damage...

Okay, fuck she has less time now... Let's check her eyes to see what they look like.

I remove Lisa's dark bio-silk mask, her eyes are shut tight and blood leaks from them. The red on her neck tells me she has been experiencing a very rapid bleed from most of her facial orifices. What I remember is that Lisa's powers clash with my nature as undead when she views me. Sure, she can look at me and her powers have started to ignore me now, but right now I don't think she can ignore anything. I pull open her eye lids to see her green circles swimming in a pool of red. I send cells to her eyes to check and see if she can even see.

The nerves in the eyes look fine, her pupils are dilating when my eyes go pass over, their glow causing the eyes to instinctively expand despite it not being real light. I can feel hands try to move me, but I simply wrap my hair under and around Lisa sealing us together and removing the prying hands. My eyes all focus inwards, even my ghost rests between us, and my teeth form a barrier around us. No one is separating us...

**Forty minutes to brain damage...**

Okay so Lisa's eyes work, I lick up the blood out of her eye and seal its burst capillaries soaking the blood under her conjunctiva. I just need her to look at me, I grimace at that, she needs to be conscious to look at me, is she conscious? The level of activity in her nerves causing her to twitch under me tell me that being awake is pain. I'm reminded of the first time I woke up Nimi last month, her entire sensory suite had registered as pain and flooded all of us with it. The pain will be comparable. I look down at the blank face of Lisa's maybe unconscious but twitching form, her brain's activity level looks like she is already awake, but it isn't aware...

Another extreme spike in activity makes me hold her tighter...

Twenty minutes to brain death...

Okay, I need to wake up someone who should be awake, but who's brain is currently asleep due to pain. I could flood her heart with adrenaline to get her body to wake and thus her brain, but her heart is already very damaged, and I can't replace it fast enough. Making blood cells is one thing to make in minutes, an organ more complex than the sack I'm using will take a bit. It also needs to be alive, I can make dead stuff perfectly, unnaturally, fast, but as much as I want to save Lisa, I'm not willing to cut her life short. Turning my girlfriend into a half-undead even to save her life is wrong and requires her consent. Plus, it defeats the purpose of saving her life if I just half kill her...

I test the spinal column for a waking response, but I'm greeted with it being damaged just before reaching the brain. Okay so her extrathalamic control is damaged and that explains why she can't stop feeling her body. It also tells me that she is not in a coma, or even asleep, she is trapped in her head and she is in so much pain that her senses are being ignored entirely. She can hear me...

"Lisa, I need you to focus on me, please I know it hurts," I try to keep the rock in my throat down as another quake passes through her weakening body, "but I need you to see me, can you try it for me please lovely."

Ten minutes to brain death...

I watch hopeful as her eyes begin to move, the green's looking blindly around is promising, but she still doesn't "see". I can see the signals get lost in the lighting storm inside her skull. The signals aren't strong enough, my ghost wraps itself around Lisa's head and heart, she can see me, but it can't pass through to her. I watch as the tumor that gives her powers continues to pump out more and more signals, almost mockingly, the heat of fever and pressure of her brain swelling will damage it last. I snarl, such a disrespectful guest to my lovely, how dare it view itself as higher than the flesh around it! I watch as its spider cancer is connected to every part of Lisa's brain, its signals reaching everything through thin strands of nerves.

I need to go into it directly, I can pass my brain signals through the offending section if I physically connect to it. My face splits in half as I expose my rotting brain, my eye stalks severing as they grow towards Lisa's eyes. If this doesn't work, I'll just eat her powers, they aren't worth it if they plan on killing her...

Five minutes to brain death...

The thin undead nerves reach her eyes and flow across the surface, reaching the back of her eyes. I breach the barrier and connect to her eye stalks. My brain doesn't produce chemicals or electricity, it is my ghost that does that using the brain more as a vehicle for my senses than anything else. So, with Lisa's nervous system connected to mine, my ghost can technically signal her brain. In theory...

I touch Lisa's nerves...nothing. I was able to reach her brain but like before the signal just gets lost in the noise. My split face frowns, I need to reach deeper. My nerves snake down her stalks and pass the barrier until I reach her brain. The occipital lobe, vision in the brain, is found at the back of her head so I need to navigate quickly.

I connect to every lobe on my path, if visual is not enough I can just attack the Pollentia from every angle in Lisa's brain if needs be!

Two minutes to brain death...

My nerves are spread everywhere in her by the time I reach her visual centers. The neural tissues connect to hers almost as if I have formed a new lobe, but instead of her Pollentia's set-up mine connects to only one, the Pollentia itself. I send my signals, slow at first but faster as it tries to push me back.

I feel the spike coming, a wave of brain destroying chemicals, already to take from me Lisa's life... How dare it!

I push back at the signal with full force behind my anger. You think I can't save her, watch me! I push into it physically as I connect more and more nerves to the internal enemy.

I will flood you until you surrender or are destroyed thief, she is mine and I will keep her as long as she wants! I feel the signal from it flinch as I now send signals all across it...

She will have a long life with or without you PARASITE! The words flow across its surface as I feel its walls break under the strain of my constant attack.

I send everything into the cracks and feel myself push deeper into the Pollentia, its torrent of signals nothing compared to my tsunami of wrath. I fill the irrelevant lobe with my own signals causing it to slow as it tries to process...and fails.

I receive a single signal back before the entire collection of nerves stops fighting...

[…error...]

Lisa relaxes as my internal sensors show the hyper brain activity cease.

Thirty seconds until brain death would have occurred...

---

Laughing like a loon, screaming at the sky!

The writing in the halls and walls of my brain tell tales
tales of madness and despair,
tales of triumph and glories,
tales of the darkness that loves you,
and ballads of the end of all things...

I'm pretty tired... ignore the mad poetry it has nothing to do with the story...

 

[MaskedCritic]

Damn, way to go Armsmaster! Really showing how much of a hero he truly is, here, with his thoughts. At the same time, showing his problems with people (which I think is mostly fanon but fuck it, fanon is better than canon where he was legitimately just an asshole glory hound in need of a wake up call) by having to have Dragon coach him into realizing he's looking incredibly callous just standing there... beautiful.

Most impressive is how he doesn't freak the fuck out and attack when Taylor starts doing her freaky zombie shit. I am happy to say that I have trouble imagining what it looked like, because what I can imagine is enough to cause nightmares...

It was also really cool to see Piggot realize she fucked up so quickly. Always nice to see her as something other than the caricature of an authoritarian corrupt cop that she was in canon. I'd love to see how she responds if she's taught about how all of Taylor's emotions are forms of hunger, especially as both her and Miss Militia's hang-ups had her primed and ready for failure, here.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

Damn, way to go Armsmaster! Really showing how much of a hero he truly is, here, with his thoughts. At the same time, showing his problems with people (which I think is mostly fanon but fuck it, fanon is better than canon where he was legitimately just an asshole glory hound in need of a wake up call) by having to have Dragon coach him into realizing he's looking incredibly callous just standing there... beautiful.

Most impressive is how he doesn't freak the fuck out and attack when Taylor starts doing her freaky zombie shit. I am happy to say that I have trouble imagining what it looked like, because what I can imagine is enough to cause nightmares...

It was also really cool to see Piggot realize she fucked up so quickly. Always nice to see her as something other than the caricature of an authoritarian corrupt cop that she was in canon. I'd love to see how she responds if she's taught about how all of Taylor's emotions are forms of hunger, especially as both her and Miss Militia's hang-ups had her primed and ready for failure, here.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, that's about what I wanted to set up. The previous chapter was about contrast in character actions with their thoughts in this one. It all turned out pretty good. Also if what you imagined is a nightmare, then your imagination is correct, I kept it vague because the imagination of my audience is more versatile at scaring them then I am. Though if I ever do want to frighten the audience it will be written in excruciating detail, in all the wrong ways...

 

[GraphiteCrow]

I can just imagine what other people may have thought if they saw Taylor go all "The Thing" on Lisa, splitting open her head and sending nerve tissue into Lisa's eye sockets, a tube connecting them at the torso. TBH I pretty much think of Frankie Taylor as "The Thing" by now. at her own leisure she could turn into a body-horror monster.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

I can just imagine what other people may have thought if they saw Taylor go all "The Thing" on Lisa, splitting open her head and sending nerve tissue into Lisa's eye sockets, a tube connecting them at the torso. TBH I pretty much think of Frankie Taylor as "The Thing" by now. at her own leisure she could turn into a body-horror monster.

Click to shrink...

And she is so respectful to the human form unlike The Thing, otherwise she would just go all out and turn into a bunch of worms or tentacles...mmmm, Worm Taylor...maybe a different story...

 

[GraphiteCrow]

And she is so respectful to the human form unlike The Thing, otherwise she would just go all out and turn into a bunch of worms or tentacles...mmmm, Worm Taylor...maybe a different story...

Click to shrink...

Taylor: Dang I don't seem to have enough restraints to tie everyone up

Criminal: Hah! Suck shit hero! As soon as I can I am gonna run off and you can't stop me!

Taylor: Well guess I am gonna have to use my intestinal tract as rope, oh well.

Criminal: Wait what... OH GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, STAY AWAY!!!

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

A chapter...

---

The PRT building is familiar to me like the hospital is, a sense of foreboding, inadequacy, and stress.

The director had called for me about an hour ago, or five patients ago depending on how you measure, someone was injured or dying same deal as usual. It wasn't one of the wards, because I wouldn't have arrived an hour later if it had been, Vicky probably would have cut class if someone on Dean's team was hurt bad enough. Another thing that was weird about it is that it was a request not an emergency call through New Wave, meaning it isn't a protectorate hero either. So, must be a trooper? I don't know, they didn't tell me anything, and it was put on fast track, hence five and not ten.

I sigh, sure hope I'm not late...

The stark halls of the PRT building pass by as I follow the escort to my new patient. Just another one in a long line of wounded I've dealt with today, it's worse this week. Lung was apparently taken off the streets a week ago, I don't know how or who, but the other gangs took notice. The Merchants are somehow holding out with two thirds of their cape leadership gone, Squealer's vehicles have been mostly missing though. The empire on the other hand has decided to have a field day, although again their capes are oddly absent. It must be because an Endbringer fight, and thus the truce, is coming up. God it is going to get worse after that isn't it...

I huff beneath my hood, the amount of injuries that the gangs are doing to each other and civilians is just coasting in the fifties for every day that the ABB leader is gone. After the truce has run its course, I don't doubt that those numbers will reach the hundreds easy. I can feel the pack of cigarettes press against my leg inside my scrub pants under my robes. I don't smoke often, just when my work load gets crazy, it helps with...everything.

I follow the trooper mechanically through the halls ignoring my growing need. The walk there a mess of grey halls, stairs, and an elevator ride before we make it to medical, the PRT's own private hospital with a miniature MRI and everything. Six hospital beds, five sporting a open curtain with the last one furthest from the door with its green privacy drapes drawn. I look around at the abandoned room, usually one of the on-site doctors would at least greet me and give a run-down of the situation. I turn to the trooper, but they're gone too...odd. Well, they're probably just busy, I shrug and start to head over to the drawn curtain. I'm curious about who they called me in for. I make it about two steps before I really examine the room.

It isn't just dark over in the far corner. Wavy strands of black flow from the top of the green curtains, where the lights are not off, they've been smashed. I look down at the bottom of the curtain and see rolling darkness spread and twist as if something solid moves in the darkness. The light of the bright window doing nothing to pierce a veil of shade surrounding the mint green curtains, but if I look closely, I can see shapes move beyond the paper. I take a few more steps to see what they are.

Now that I'm closer I can hear it, a soft sound like the fluttering of wings, but underneath I can hear something throatier. It sounds like a hiss of air through teeth, a papery quality mixed with the deeper rasp of a gasp for air. It's cold...

I'm standing before the curtain now, it is dark inside there. I can't see a thing, but I can hear it now. A buzz like insect wings, like summer bugs even though my body is freezing. I think I'm scared, but I can't stop my hand rising from my side as I reach for the flap...

"Panacea?"

I jump a squeak in my throat dying as I realize just how close I am to the curtain, "I, what?" I look behind me at the voice, the chill from before gone as the room suddenly feels too hot.

The blank mask of the PRT trooper mask stares back at me, "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yes I just," I look back at curtain and see a shape moving in the dark, long and spindly as it bends down to my eye level. A soft glowing circle staring back at me...I shake my head and when I open them the shape is gone, "I just didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry to startle you," he scratches the back of his head, "I've been ordered to take you up to the director, sorry for the mix up your patient is not ready to see you yet."

The buzzing from before are gone and looking back to the green paper doesn't illuminate what I saw before. "Uh, yeah lets go talk to Piggot instead."

The trip upstairs to the director's office is a blur as I think back to what my "patient" could possibly be. The shapes I saw...maybe It is some kind of case 53?

---

I sigh as I walk back though the door to the clinic. Piggot's explanation of just what went down earlier today, had me both panicky and angry. One Piggot has the nerve to call me in for a healing I can't even do! I don't, read can't, do brains, I huff as I approach the green divider, plus Armsmaster believes that Izzy's condition was taken care of by Frankie, her girlfriend. They called me in to see if they could get dirt on the two!

I hesitate at the dark curtains. I was going to walk out on them right then and there, but then we get to why I'm panicking. Frankie eats people... They read me a report by Miss Militia that also told me that Izzy might eat people too... Their cannibals, in fact the entire team they're on are cannibals in some regard or another. They have been observing the family's house for the past couple of weeks and their eating habits are...vile. I mean sure anything is better than humans, but eating dead decomposing or even just decomposers, well I'm glad that I don't.

I guess cannibalism is a strong word really, none of the people in that house have been seen eating someone. Except for Izzy apparently who bit Frankie, and it was consensual, ew...

I drag a hand down my face and try to steel myself, just remember their patients which means they deserve medical treatment too, despite the fact that Carol would skewer them. I shake my head, Carol would skewer me if she found out I could change people's brains, I don't think that my mother is a sane counter argument.

I sigh and pull aside the curtain. It is dark, but I can see inside okay, the bed is occupied by two mounds. One looks normal, blonde with freckles across her cheeks and nose, she is sleeping peacefully next to her bed partner. Her bed partner is well Taylor Hebert, very different from when I met her last month.

Thick locks of hair spill out of the bed and crawl up every surface of the space with huge curls. It is like looking at waves of literal darkness. God her hair must trail behind her for feet, it moves like its underwater or like it is tendrils of shade, several places on the floor have rising columns of the keratin structures waving lazily in an absent breeze.

Her chest is...nude, which would make me look away out of embarrassment, but her rib cage is open. The flaps of her chests flesh draping over the other girl. Sternum missing and the ribs move like they are articulated, a gentle breathing motion making them wave. A spaghetti mess of barbed tentacles spill out of an empty cavity where lungs should be but aren't. The rest of her body is a bloodless pale with long appendages. She is tall maybe six foot, hard to tell with her lying down next to the shorter girl.

A yawn takes me away from my peeping of pale creature in human form, she rolls onto her side from her back, snuggling up to the blonde in bed with her. The wet slap of her skin slapping bone, thus hiding her exposed bones, makes me flinch. I look down as I feel something slither past my leg, the hair is not hair, it feels too much like flesh to be hair. I hold in a scream as the tendril of hair opens a glowing silver eye and grows teeth. "What are you doing here," the voice is hollow and insect-like, not like an angry noise, just extra clicky. I look up and see that all of the other hair is full of the eyes, white circles of shiny silver glow surrounded shark teeth glittering in the low light. In the center of the black, a pale form stands in stark contrast to the dark, the bright points of glowing silver lights in her face completing the look. Yep, I just woke up a death goddess while she was napping with her girlfriend. I feel my legs get wrapped up in toothed hair, they're sharp teeth I might add, the points digging into my flesh through my pants. At least she isn't angry...

"Uh, I was told someone needed healing," I struggle to not say her name. After all, even if she doesn't have her mask on, it is still polite to maintain her cape status, "May I come in, Frankie?"

"You know my name Panacea, I don't care if you use it." She speaks like she is tired, but before I can take a step, the dark not-hair grabs me, closes the curtains, and places me on the bed. The hoodie gets zipped close, hiding the completely mended flesh of her nude chest, it healed in seconds! "Sorry for scaring you earlier, I was sleeping.

My hands are covered in the not-hair so I'm expecting the rush of information, what I get is nothing, nothing at all. It's all dead cells no activity, no chemical changes, and no feeling of control. I simple am not allowed to edit Taylor's body in any way. "Uh, I, okay?" I can't change her...if she wants to eat or kill me, there is nothing I can do to stop her...

"Nimi would like me to ask you if you want to be adopted."

Her voice, and words, startle me from my panic at being at this cape's complete mercy, "what?"

"I told her that I would ask people on her list she has," Taylor's head turns as she watches me, "she thinks that your adorable, and wants to care for you like a mother would. If you say yes though it might be a few years though..."

I don't know how to respond to that one, I mean sure Carol is kind of a bitch, but I deserv- I halt at that thought, no I-I'm improving so I'll make her happy...eventually...let's stop thinking about her. I still don't know what to say about the proposition so..."I smoke cigarettes!" Blurt the first thing that came to mind. I feel the need for one now that I remembered the pack in my pocket, but at least she'll stop holding me. People usually give me dirty looks when I smoke-

I'm picked up from my seat at the end of bed and I'm soon placed in a cocoon of that not-hair and sitting in her lap. I feel small as the much taller girl wraps some arms around me. The arms and hair like steel, but a combing of my hair as my hood is pulled back distracts me from the danger. She isn't warm, but she is definitely soft.

"And why do you smoke cigarettes," Her voice is warm in contrast with the chill of her skin as she strokes me cheek. I expected a look of disgust, or maybe pity, but as I look up Taylor's face is a blank mask of hunger like she is talking to her food. Her voice is motherly...

"I-I," I blush as the girl who is maybe around my age makes me feel like she is so much older and makes me feel like I'm so much younger. The arms around me squeeze and I just blush harder as it makes me feel better, "I just need to sometimes..." It sounded weak to me, but it apparently satisfies her as she nods. "I-I thought you didn't like me?" The morgue and then their hospital check up from last month kind of made it clear that Taylor didn't trust me.

"I didn't back when you called me less than human," I flinch at her words and that she stopped stroking my face. This encounter is going very differently than I thought it would..."But I've since then stopped caring about it as much, it takes a lot more than one bad introduction to make me hate you. There are people that have said a lot worse for a lot longer." Her voice then drops as the hunger in her eyes turns to emptiness, "plus I hurt your sister, and you deserve an apology as well as an explanation."

What is she talking about, when was Vicky hur- Oh... "You're talking about January." I remember that night, Vicky came in on a stretcher missing two litters of blood and going into hypovolemic shock. Her body temperature rocking between two extremes as chills and fever plagued her body. She was panicking one minute and far to quiet the next. It was awful and of course I remember it, I was working that night. They wouldn't let me help, until they realized that they couldn't get the needle past her forcefield. It was like the mall all over again, just sitting on the side lines unable to help. And she dares to say sorry... "Who do you think you are," I can see a painful look cross her face, but fuck her, "you think that you can just take from people and then say sorry!?"

I struggle to get away from the fucking bitch, her and her false comfort even as she shoves the casual claim of almost killing the one person who's everything. "She won't even talk about what happened, all she does is fly around looking for something at night," I snarl even as she stares at me impassively, "well I guess I know who she's looking for now, the PRT may not be willing to do anything to you, but she's not going let you just get away with eating people!"

"Panacea," I halt at the word, her voice hollow and sounding like Carol, but not like when she is talking to me. It sounds like the voice she uses when she is disappointed in Vicky... "I want to tell you about that night," she growls, "are you going to listen?" Her face is blank, but her voice buzzes with noise as I realize just who I'm yelling at. Fuck...

I nod and then she starts the story... When it ended, I felt my anger die as my worry fills its place. "So, it was just a misunderstanding?"

"Yes," her voice is calm as she places me back on the other side of bed. The brief touch of my hand as it touches a shoulder brings me back to why I was here in the first place. I forgot Izzy was here... "for what it is worth I apologize that I ended up hurting Glory Girl, but I needed to protect Nimi, I wasn't thinking, and she wouldn't listen."

"Yeah," I sag as the tension in my shoulders leaves, "she can get like that, uh who's Nimi?" I was given a brief overview of the group that Taylor is a team member on, but they didn't give me names.

"Nimi is our tank, but she is also shares L-Izzy with me and Swarm," I pretend not to notice the slip of her tongue as my brain stalls on the thought of Izzy dating three people. How the fuck is that supposed to work? After a few images rise into my thought I shake my head, on second thought I don't want to know. "She's a case 53 thus can't have kids, so she wants to adopt when we all get old enough."

"And she thinks that I'd be a good choice," I really doubt that anyone would want me beyond my powers...

She nods, "yes, I don't think that we'd mind having someone to take care of. If it helps, Vista and several kindergarteners are on that list, and they might be the only kids Nimi has ever seen so I don't think she has an actual list and just wants to be a mom."

I frown, "so why are you the one asking if I want to be adopted?"

"I have an obligation to my other to try and win over her picks, so even if I don't particularly have the best impression of you, I still need to try. I don't know you too well after all, it could be nice to have some more friends if you don't want to be my daughter." I feel my cheeks heat up as her voice drops the motherly tone and goes back to normal. She lies down curled across Izzy.

"So, what just lying, huh?" The thought of her just phoning in her concern for me, even the lazy thought of her adopting me, almost hurt. Like I'm not good enough.

"No," she lifts to look at me, I can feel her hair curl around me the teeth at my back reminding me just who and what I'm talking to. "I would like to have kids, and you seem to have chronic stress," she frowns, "stress kills you, you know. Maybe it would be better to just start as friends."

I watch as she continues to stare at me, does she want a real answer? "I uh, guess we can be friends?" Her head quirks, and I feel myself blink. Why did I phrase that as a question?

The hairs withdraw from me and gather around the opposite side of the bed. I sigh as she lets me go, "look I was just called in to heal someone, I'm guessing your girlfriend, right? She was the one that was hurt."

A nod from the strange cape, "her head was alive with voices, I silenced them before her head popped from the noise." I blink at the glazed look across the girl's face.

"Oookay, so what does that mean?"

She frowns, the glaze over her eyes disappearing, "Onset encephalitis, generalized-onset seizure that started as focal in the Pollentia. She suffered minor tears in ninety percent of her muscular-skeletal system and blood loss. She also cracked her head open by running at a wall."

Uh, ouch... That is a very serious diagnosis. I was thinking that there wasn't anything I'd need to fix, but I guess the PRT didn't just call me in for spying. "Okay, I can fix most of that, except for the brain stuff, power doesn't work on that stuff."

The cape nods and snuggles into her girlfriend's side, "okay, ignore any necrotic tissue in her system, those are my cells and I'm using them." The hair spreads out across the wall behind her reaching up across the wall and onto the ceiling. "I'm going to sleep some more, you'll be safe here while you work." I watch as her eyes shut, the motion rippling out to all the other eyes as they disappear into shadow.

"Uh, okay?" Why wouldn't I be safe if the scary cannibal cape is going to be asleep? I shake my head and get to work, I don't need to analyze this too much, just finish this patient, go up to the hospital roof and smoke. I place my hands on the sleeping blonde and start to work only to stop when I see just how much dead cells are floating around. She is full of the stuff, her blood work is a spiraling pattern of peripheral structures of necrotic tissues. I watch as the infectious material continues to function despite having zero energy output, but it is what it is doing that is the weirdest part.

I follow a few what seem to be rogue cells travel through the veins, their same dead biology slipper to my powers like Taylor's is. They travel along before stopping at a damaged blood cell, this one is Izzy's as I feel I can change it, but I don't have to. I watch as the three cells begin repairing the single cell, even going so far as to feed it some nutrients, and they are, in what I can only describe as nuzzling, showing the formerly damaged cell affection. I watch bewildered as the newly repaired cell actually responds positively to the attention, producing proteins faster and having less errors in transcription.

It's happening everywhere too. Izzy's burnt nerve fibers are being repaired by an army of dead tissues. Her muscle tears are being filled and mended as the other cells transform the scar tissues into healthy muscle cells, while other large groupings of necrosis pull together seams in bone making it easier to seal the micro fractures. Its helping... not as fast as my healing, but hey she is healing her even if I don't want to imagine how all these cells got inside her.
Don't think just heal...

---

The work went quickly with the help of a couple million rogue cells helping me. They transported nutrients to the sites damage as I worked, held structures together while I add transformed cells to the bones, and fought against germs trying to get in the wounds. About the only thing that slowed me down was that they gave rather long "goodbyes" to every cell that I needed to convert. Stem cells were the only ones that they just gave a second long "nuzzle", but every other type went from three to ten seconds. As for the dead cells...the mourning was uncomfortable.

But eventually I was done. I look up from my work, moving my hood back up from my covered eyes. Taylor looked like she is asleep, the hair still lacked its eyes and teeth, and her face laid next to her girlfriend's. It was cute...until her ribs opened back up...

The cracking sound of snapping bones competes with the sound of wet flesh unsealing. The maw opens and pulls apart as it moves her to cover Izzy's chest. A thick tongue wraps around the unconscious girl's waist as the sleeping girl pulls her bed partner into a hug. I can't handle this anymore, I leave to inform the medical staff of their condition.

I pull the curtain close blocking my view of the most inhuman display of intimacy, the bone and flesh, the red and black coupling with white and gold. I'm so relieved to be out of there, I sigh my hands are shaky and I can't tell if it is lack of energy from working on the patient, or my nerves being shot from dealing with the two.

I walk over to a desk area where I can see a doctor sitting next to Armsmaster who stands. "What is the prognosis, Panacea."

I huff at the sound of his neutral voice and speed up out of the dark corner of the clinic. "She is stable, but she's probably going to remain unconscious for a couple days, maybe a week." Her body is mostly healed, with only the minor damage being taken care of by the other girl. "However, her brain is probably the only thing keeping her in that bed right now."

"So, we can expect brain damage," he frowns, but I can't tell if he is sad or disappointed, "the director doesn't like that both Frankie or Izzy are still remaining in the building, can they be moved to Brockton Bay North?"

Now it's my turn to frown, "Your facilities lack the equipment needed to treat someone in a coma, so yes Piggot can get exactly what she wants. I'd give it a day or two before moving them, just to let the healing I've done set."

He nods, "I'll inform her that they can be moved for medical reasons at a later date, did you find anything out about them?"

"Other than their names, faces, and just how gross Frankie is with her girlfriend," I put my hands on my hips, but only I sigh as I see his stance lean forward, completely ignoring my sarcastic tone, "I think she is probably biokinetic of some kind, or changer, or something, I honestly don't know what her powers are and I saw her use them to heal Izzy, while I was healing her." I think back to the constant strange cell behaviors and movements, I should probably consider her a master too, but it was only her cells that she was moving. Probably not too dangerous... maybe...

"I see, did she discuss anything?"

I look at the man, well I'm not telling him about Taylor's plans to adopt. Especially since I'm someone she, and whoever Nimi is, considered adoption materials. The fact that it sounds nice to just get away from the house...maybe for a bit. I feel my cheeks heat, but I shove it down with some well-placed irritation. "Frankie is hungry, so I suggest that she eats...something..."

The frown turns into a grimace as the metal clad tinker leans back, a hand placed on his chin as he thinks, "I suppose that we will need to contact the rest of the family, they have similar eating habits."

I shake my head, no don't think about it Amy, just don't think about it. Their just capes with different diets, that's all just because it is mostly roadkill...I feel my nausea bloom, but I just look back to Armsmaster, "I'd like leave and get back to the hospital."

He nods, "We'll contact New Wave, or get you transport if you'd like."

"Thanks..."

The hospital was how I left it, a disaster, five more victims needing urgent care. I roll up my sleeves and get to work. An hour and then two, five becomes twelve becomes thirty, as a gang shoot out on whatever street puts the city in a meat grinder. I see teeth and eyes as I work the flicker of silver as my stress gets higher and higher.
Couldn't save this one, brain hemorrhage too advanced to fix...

This one has a gunshot in their spine, brain failure to fast for us to get to...

"What are you waiting for, heal me!" I ignore her screaming as I solve what is comparably a paper cut...

"Get me some blood over here!" I yell over the din of the front lobby, hands in the guts of someone nearly cut in half...

The hospital roof slams open and then shuts behind me. The sound of the dead and dying lost to the wind and the steel door behind me. My grip on the door lost as I march to the edge of the roof and look down. frayed nerves and shaky fingers grip the pack in my pocket.

I throw out the first stick, the memory of Taylor's care fresh...

I smoke the second one...

---

 

[GraphiteCrow]

aww Amy's distress and emotional confusion over Taylor is adorable and sad. Part of her is disgusted by her and her family but she also yearns for the motherly love Taylor was showing her. It shows how much of a bitch Carol is when Amy would consider trying to get over her hang ups on the Hebert family diet just to live with them for a few days to destress and feel some family acceptance.

Funny enough the Hebert Family very much remind me of the Addams Family. and we all know how much the Addams family loved and accepted one another.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

aww Amy's distress and emotional confusion over Taylor is adorable and sad. Part of her is disgusted by her and her family but she also yearns for the motherly love Taylor was showing her. It shows how much of a bitch Carol is when Amy would consider trying to get over her hang ups on the Hebert family diet just to live with them for a few days to destress and feel some family acceptance.

Funny enough the Hebert Family very much remind me of the Addams Family. and we all know how much the Addams family loved and accepted one another.

Click to shrink...

There is a reason for the comparison, I'm an avid fan of the Addams Family so it is kind of inevitable that some influence came through...

 

[Gryphalcon]

There is a reason for the comparison, I'm an avid fan of the Addams Family so it is kind of inevitable that some influence came through...

Click to shrink...

I've just been through a bunch of Addams Family crossovers. Feeling much love for the monstrous right now.

Wednesday in Hufflepuff.

 

[SensibleMalarkey]

As for the dead cells...the mourning was uncomfortable.

Click to shrink...

I'm imagining little funerals for every single lost cell... a lot of funerals. It's an awfully adorable image.

 

[SensibleMalarkey]

Wednesday in Hufflepuff.

Click to shrink...

Oh my gawd that is hilarious!

 

[Gryphalcon]

Oh my gawd that is hilarious!

Click to shrink...

It was "When Harry Met Wednesday".
Psychopath-Harry, no-morals-but-thinks-otherwise-Dumbledore.

Very, very good read. Warning for blood, guts, and madness, and sex.
If you've got this far with Rot, definitely recommend.

I'm also hoping the Hydrus(?) story continues.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

Hey sorry for the wait, I've been studying for the evaluation exam, (and stressing to the point of tears), but that is over now. I'm finally on a health study schedule and I thought that I would share with you guys the chapter I was working on, now complete. Hope you enjoy...

---

I have been watching the house for a week now, since Sunday at least...

I crouch on the sloped roof across from the Hebert's residence. The moon new so the street is as dark as it could get with the street lamp buzzing its orange light. I wish that bitch was still around, she just has to go get powers and then doesn't even give me the chance to beat the worthless bitch into the ground. That's another thing the bitch fucking owes me. She got her powers because of me so that makes them mine.

Last Tuesday I watched Taylor and the blonde, Izzy, leave the house, but they haven't come back yet. Odd, but ultimately this just helps me with my plan. The weakling's family has been in and out of the house for the last week so all I needed to do was wait and watch. The green one and the shadow one are easy to track, and the mom doesn't usually hunt around her house. Speaking of...

I watch the big green one and short shadow go for their "hunt". Just one more, I look down at the gas can I brought for tonight, after they're all out of the way that bitch Taylor can finally get her punishment. I glower, I shouldn't have to do this, why can no one see them for what they are? At least after tonight I'll be sure that whatever evidence the bitch has on me and Emma, then it'll be just back to what we normally do. After all we got no one to look at Taylor before, proving to the PRT that Taylor is a villainous threat
should be child's play.

I watch as another person steps out of the open doorway. Taylor's mom is tall. I try my hardest not to shiver as I watch the nearly six-foot monster walk out fully dressed for her hunt. This is the one to be warry of, I only tried to follow her on her hunt once and I will never be taking that risk again...

I look at her intensely as I try my best keep my eye on the very quick Mover. "Not to mention if she looks up hear and sees me, she can climb just as fast," I mutter as I watch the pale figure check their basket for whatever. There is nothing particularly creepy about the pale woman, but it is in how she holds herself. Even with the distance and the dark, I can make out the wound muscles, a sharpness to her movements. How she carried an air of readiness, it reminded her of a few of the cats that had been on the street longer than usual. Then there are the features, she is tall which I guess is kind of obvious since Taylor is tall, but it is the other similarities between the two. The long dark hair clashes with the pale grey of her skin, it almost looks like she was bleached. " Or dead," I whisper as I watch.

I shake my head; PHO is stupid for thinking these capes are..."zombies". I snark under my breath as I watch her, wave at her "children". PHO is full of idiots and crazies, I frown as I remember last Sunday, I shouldn't have let them work me up too much. Shooting at Madison was stupid, it is one thing to simply punish her when she is clearly acting like weak prey, it is another leaving evidence in her wall... no matter how satisfying it was watching her jump from the bolt inches from her head.

I quit my musings as I see the head of Taylor's mother move across my hiding spot. Shit, I duck at once almost hitting the gasoline, it slides, but I catch it before it can really leave my grip. That could have been bad... I look back up over the roof.
The creature's gaze has moved past my spot, before turning back to the open door and closing. She turns to look out at the street, the light from inside the house gone, shrouds the shape of her body. I can't see her eyes, but I can imagine what they look like. The cold grey orbs of from the skinny creature from school, the lifeless hungry gaze of Taylor Hebert...

I shake my head, ignore it girl, ignore what you read on PHO, she is just a weird cape, they are all just weird capes. Sure, they are monsters, and I'm doing the world a favor getting rid of them, but they are not the dead, they're not zombies. I catch sight of the tall woman running down the street, and thirty minutes later the PRT van starts up, right on time.

The lights are out in the house and the driveway is empty. The dad must be working late. So that's my que, I grab the can and my crossbow, and start to slide down the roof phasing my body into shadows making me silent. I make it across the street to the darkened house. I think back to the week Taylor came back.

When Taylor came back from being "dead", naturally we didn't give her a break, she didn't deserve one after all. We started to mess with her, but it was creepy, the coward was almost exactly the same, or well no she was different. She still didn't talk back to us, unless it was to get us to leave, and she never fought back against us, but still. The hungry looks, how she would sometimes just forget we were even there, the dark smiles she would put on when she was looking at us. I'd say she was in a gang, what with the tattoos she had on her back, but I once saw her look at one of the E88 losers at school like he was a fucking steak, and she isn't Asian. I guess she could be with the merchants, but she didn't even shy away when I mentioned her looking like a crack whore. She looks a lot different now...

The image of a dark red spiral, sharp teeth, and bright eyes in the dark, rises to the mind now. Taylor is a villain; must cause she really sells the look. Why no one else can see it for that reason alone is strange to me. I mean come on, I huff as I reach through the front door, she dresses in nothing but red, black, and white. I mean come on, she already looks like an empire reject!

The door unlatches as I finally find the lock. Whatever, after I take care of the evidence that she has, Emma and I can finally expose her for the villain she is barely pretending to not be. I pull the door open and walk in. All I have to do is get rid of everything.
The room is dark, but clearly a living room. A shabby couch sat next to an equally ragged armchair. The television is one of those old box kinds, a kitchen with a small bar occupies the back space. Next to the front door lies a set of stairs leading up into darkness. The place is even worse than Emma described, I walk around to get more of a view.

Getting deeper into the living room showed me, that there really wasn't much to see. The kitchen and table sat in the dark of the house, both looking worn, but near the back of the kitchen is a back door, useful to know the exits. Looking down a hall near the kitchen shows a basement wide open and what must be the garage? I snicker to myself, I wonder which monster lives in the basement or the garage, the green one, the shadow, or Taylor herself. I smile at the idea that Taylor's parents would put the green or multiarmed creature in Taylor's bed and shove weak-ass Taylor into the basement. It is where she belongs.

I shake my head, my smile not leaving my lips as I walk back out into the living room area. Well best to get started. I splash the gas over the couch and furniture, careful to not get any on me. I know that the dad isn't here so this should only be arson, not attempted murder. I call it pay-back, after all, they should know their place to not mess with me.

Okay, with that done time for look for evidence. So, if I were a coward bitch, my smile becomes extra toothy, where would I hide my problems. I start looking over the room. An office corner with old computer mostly just has bills and letters. Too public, I look around the living room, she probably kept the stuff in her room. I look back at the basement, but make my way up the stairs instead, keeping my steps silent as I phase the bottoms of my shoes.

---

"You've got to be kidding me." I stare at the walls of Taylor's room. The likeness of Miss Militia in all her fabricated PR based glory looks out on the room. " I guess it kind of makes sense," I shake my head as I catch sight of another cape poster, this one Armsmaster, " the weak tend to look up to the strong, but I guess she couldn't even get that right." The room is messy, especially the bed, with all sorts of clothes spread out, disorganized and a few strange garments lying on the ground. I smirk as I step on a few silky-er clothes with my muddy boots. It's a little sad that she won't see any of this after I torch the place.

I look through one of the drawers of a cabinet, it is much more organized in here. Neat lines of folded clothing greet my eyes as I search for evidence. Must be the parents, cause judging from the room she is a messy bitch. Well point to you Taylor, I half-smile internally, looks like your parents care about their failure of a kid. I frown as I look through the desk, " lucky bitch." I shake my head, focus girl, I need to remember what I'm here for. Taylor is not going to take down me or Emma, I just need to find where she put her evidence. I search through drawer after drawer, nothing there or in the desk. Let's check the closet.

I open the closet only to cringe. While I don't particularly care for looks, I have gotten used to Emma's particular tastes. The drab mess of dark colors and greys would be good fuel for some insults if the stupid bitch hadn't fucked everything up. I haven't found any makeup either which is just shameful. Emma's explanation of warpaint was very enlightening...

I turn away from the ugly wardrobe and start searching through the boxes on the upper shelf. It is mostly just useless junk, but eventually I find a few notebooks. Bingo, flipping through a few pages revealed quite a lot of nothing, just random letters on pages interspersed with math homework. So basically useless. I reach to put the disappointing notebook back on the top shelf and almost lose balance as the floor suddenly shifts. I look down to see that the floor in the closet is wood rather than the carpet I get down on the floor of the closet and feel around. " A-ha," The floorboards near the middle of the closet are loose, " let's see what you got Tay-tay."

I secretly hope to find something criminal, something I could bring to the PRT to show them that the useless prey is nothing but a criminal and that I am just fighting a villain. But there is nothing but more notebooks, I frown, I don't need to be exonerated, Taylor is so pathetic that the world should just not care about the weakling. Inside the floor I find four more notebooks. These too have the same random letters and words going on, but no math. I flip through the pages and watch as the random letters started to form a pattern.

She coded her evidence?

It isn't a particularly good code either, more evidence that she is an idiot, Armsmaster could probably decode this in his sleep. I flip to the next page, this one in plain English so I begin to read...

Shit.

This us, I flip to the next page to find another uncoded page, she wrote it all down? I keep reading as I find more and more. Pranks, most of which I couldn't remember, and all of the pure hatred that poor Taylor could probably muster, I joke internally even as I flip to another page.

…she could muster quite a bit...

…I flip to the next page...

I start to grin as the dates wind down to the locker, the desperation of my prey explained in good detail. It is gratifying to know that I had indeed gotten to her, made her cry and rage, it felt good to know that all my work wasn't for nothing.
The locker was genius, I had spent weeks fermenting the materials in a place I found for Emma's prank. It had everything we needed to finally break Hebert. I frown, she wasn't supposed to get powers. Her pretending to be dead was just another insult too, if I wanted to kill her, I would just do it myself. But this is fun...

I eagerly flip faster to reach the locker, but as I flip past the last date before winter break, it's just a blank page. I look at the date, January 3rd, 2011. Just a blank page... My face twists in disgust, "stupid bitch, what's the matter Taylor, can't bring yourself to write it down!"

I stare at the blank page wishing she was here, so I could burn the house down with her inside. How dare she not write it down, she has all the lesser stuff written down! I struggle to not just tear the thing apart, but then I notice that the page after that is heavy with ink.

I flip to the next page and pale...

I didn't know that she could draw...

The image is dark, but with the streetlight coming in through the window I can just barely see it. The locker, except it didn't look like a garbage dump for useless people. No, it looks like an insane person drew it. Scratched into the page with the heavy scribbles it looks like a mess, but at the same time...

The walls of metal are covered in mushrooms, each different and mostly bright white against the dark of the ink-soaked page. A black spider web of shiny black strands interlacing the box, in the spaces between threads eyes stare out of the page to judge and narrow at me. At the bottom of the locker where the outpouring of bloody tampons should be, a collection of lumpy, organ looking masses pour out. At the center of the drawing are two bodies. The first is dark and unrecognizable as it sits back in the locker. The second though...

Her face is a glowing panic, her mouth opens as though gasping for air. I can see clearly black tears trailing down a face as a hand caress it. Her body is covered in bruises, as it slumps back into the other body at the back. I can't tell if she is restrained or not, but I can tell that her head is lying back in a space. A chest as an open cavity of teeth is a halo around the head. The texture of muscles stretching to cover the piece in a horrifying displace. I struggle not to slam the book shut as soon as I recognize the face is resting inside the mouth...

Emma's face...

There is a date written at the top...it is from the Tuesday that Emma told me to run... I haven't heard from her since...

The room is suddenly too quiet, and I can feel a shiver roll down my spine. I stuff the book into my hoodie, I got my evidence. I look at the other notebooks and begin to stuff them too. Okay so that should be all the evidence, now all I need to do is get ou-.

There's a creak...

I turn and watch as the formerly closed door leading out into the hall slowly swings open...

---

I like the inner walls...

I climb up through the rafters and dry wall, it barely creaks as my light form passes through room to room. I like them, because they are safe.
My bones click as I stretch around looking for the source of noise, I hope it's a rat, they're delicious to drain! I shift through electrical and plumbing as I make my way to the skittering noise I can hear, it sounds like it is from the attic. Good, I can stretch out up there...

My name is Annette Rose Hebert, I died on May 10th, 2009. You can call me Rose.

I came back after my daughter retrieved me with my other and gave me my body back. I slither through a gap in the wall and ceiling, carefully pulling my skull through the gap with me, before reforming in the attic. Granted I didn't actually wake up immediately, but enough of my ghost remains eventually formed together to make me. Which was disorienting, but I'm not alone, another me who I had shared dreams and thoughts and perspective, helped me get my body together. Getting out of the suitcase in the basement even folded in half as I was, wasn't too difficult. My limbs stretch as I crawl along the beams and pink insulation, stalking nearer and nearer to my prey hiding behind the boxes. I'm really limber, and my whole body can stretch around my bones, that has mostly to do with my new flesh though.

The black gel is human like even if it isn't flesh colored at all, I have kept the shape I had in life. All my features are present, even my hair. However instead of brown tresses curled, my gel forms a solid locks of gel darker than the rest of my body. The gel is stretchy, so it acts both like muscle and sinew, making movement easier as bones were kind of heavy for me to lift when I tried to leave the slime behind, before Annette came to help me.

I stare at my hand, the dissolving roach corpse under the skin ignored for my actual hand. I'm disappointed that it isn't a rat, absorption is not as satisfying as draining. My body is, I guess, the original in the sense that it is made from the body I had in life. A black gel covering my pure white bones, its translucent membrane showing off what Annette calls my most beautiful feature. I frown, I'm hideous...

I stalk over to the other side of the attic and squeeze back down into the walls. Annette says that it's not true, I head to my favorite part of the house, the living room. Annette says that I'm beautiful, and that my family wants me to come out of the walls. That our bed is too big without me...

I slide into place behind the kitchen desk nook, my favorite place to listen to my family's muted voices through the wall. Annette is...so nice. She has helped me get food, then taught me how to hunt with her, she's cuddles me when I'm feeling lonely, and has not tried to remove me from her life. She didn't steal my family; she is me and I am her. She has invited me into everything and feels that I have a right to everything she has, just as she does. I hug myself as the quiet of the house feels too much. I want to be part of it too...

I want to hug my children and show them the things I know. I want to go out and walk next to my other lock step, rather than hide in the alleys. I want to squeeze up to our Danny and feel his warmth with my own flesh, rather than listen to him sleep from the walls while my other sends the feelings to me through our link. I want to "live" in their lives again...I want to be.

Hell, I want to have a job! Annette got the job at Arcadia, and they have plans on sending Taylor there. Once she and her mate/tenant/partner get back from the hospital, Annette plans on telling her the plan she has for Arcadia. They already have all the paperwork setup, just need Taylor to study for the entrance exams and if she passes high enough then she can get in. The school even agreed that it would be fine that Taylor, barely looks human anymore, and they didn't bat an eye at the fact that Annette looks like a corpse.

I smile at the good things that my other is experiencing in her new "life". I can feel her across town, she is hanging out with that kid Carlos, Kmart Diver I think she calls him. Must be a PHO thing, I grin at the thought of Silv3r roaming the streets again. Instead of looking for predators now she is hunting down roadkill. Her fast form and weapons pulled by the world around her feel good to my fingers even as the feeling comes from her own. I wish I was out there, maybe I wouldn't mind revealing myself to this Carlos, a stranger is not as scary as my family-

I stop my monologue as I hear the door unlock. I strain to hear who this could possibly be, I know that it can't be my mate /tenant/partner, he even called to say that he would be late. As I strain my one good sense beside smell, I notice something. Something that you would only notice after hearing what a door sounds like when you unlock it a thousand times. The door is being unlocked from the inside...

My bones groan under my tightening flesh as I hear the door open to the entrance and boot walk lightly into the living room. Who is that, I don't recognize the sounds of their steps. I try to keep my panic down, Danny isn't home so the only person that can die isn't in danger, but this is my home too. I don't like people who aren't allowed inside. A scent hit my skin, and I forget my panic.

I can smell gasoline...

...and hear the sound of it splashing across my living room...

I don't have a heart, so my core and bones click in irritation as the steps lead upstairs. The walls and house around me rage at the thought of this ungrateful guest. They're trying to burn away Annette's happiness, Taylor, Swarm, and Nimi's happiness, the house that Danny and I bought together and had Taylor in. They are going to steal it...my happiness.

I don't have vocal cords, and the only sounds I make are clicks and gurgles, but still, I scream, and the house fills my senses as I pinpoint my intruder. My small body pulls itself up the walls of my much larger shell and through my maze of electrical and plumbing. A rage building great and terrible at the thought of my family's home gone, it's mine!

They are mine!

And I'm not giving it up for anything!

I slide effortlessly through the ceiling until I'm over the master bath, a fixture unscrews itself from the wall and I pull myself through the gap. Bone by bone, I reform on the tiles, shifting my jaw back into position as my lips pull back with a snarl. My steps silent as my light form is cushioned by my floors. Okay little rat, I grin the black of my translucent lips pulling back to reveal my bright white fangs, let's see what you taste like...

---

I stand up and face the door that swung open. My grip on my crossbow tight as I stare at the darkness from the open hall. It looks empty...

I search the entry way for a sign of something out of place, but the hall is too dark, and the light behind me from the street doesn't penetrate far enough into the room. God, I wish that I had my gear, or at least my goggles. I had to ditch the ward gear in the bay and get my bug-out bag from my hiding spot when Emma had warned me. The googles though sure would be helpful right now, with them I could just see the internal wiring in the wall and avoid getting electrocuted if I decide to phase through a wall. I stare at the frame of the door, it is incredibly shadowed, but I don't think I see anything...

I lower my crossbow, relaxing as I realize that there is nothing there.

A shadow of fingers slips out of view.

I snap my weapon up to aim at the door, bolt leaving the end of my bow before I could even register what I just saw. The bolt thunks into the wall and something dark blurs at me. It is too fast for me to even see, but I can hear an angry gurgle just before impact, sounded like a drowned bee. I feel the impact first and then hear the sound of glass as I fly off my feet. I launch a bolt back as I fall through the second story window. My body turning to shadow as soon as the bolt leaves. I reform on the grass a second later.

"What the fuck was that?" My chest creaks as I stand, and I wince as I feel a few of my ribs slide across breaks. "Okay, so the shadowy one left a double in the house." I sneer as I load another bolt and walk back to the door. A light has popped on in the house, so I hurry. I'm not going to get my shot like this, plus I dropped the locker notebook upstairs after it fell out of my hoodie. I feel the first step of the porch creak as I make my way up to the front door. "I wonder if she'll feel it when I put my bolt through this one..."
I smile and grab the handle...

*SHREIK*

I whip at the noise of metal on metal and spot her...

There standing just under the streetlight, a woman in the street rises from a low crouch the orange light just illuminating a terrifying sight. Her arms are covered in knives, blades, even some nails.

Not coming out, going in.

Every knife every blade, has a handle. Like the cape had taken an entire kitchen knife set and decided that the pincushion look was all the rage. I can see black streaks of fluid flowing from the knives. Looking down at the hands, they are worse. The fingers have broken scissors for some claws, others are Xacto-knife blades. I watch the hands flex and move, razor blades appearing to the surface to form the mangled hands into more metal looking claws. I tried to not look at the disgusting display of self-mutilation, and just focus on her mask. It was simple, made of metal that is rusty with a dull silver sheen, the eye spots are scratched in...

I shake my head and look higher and see a spiral of razor wire whipping violently through the air behind her. My hand grips the handle of the door as my eyes lock with her eyespots. She has brown hair, and she is tall...
Annette Hebert takes a step towards me, and I feel the force of it on my beating heart.

I need to run...

That thought runs through my head as I turn the knob and rip open the door. My actions on autopilot as I feel the growing panic. The sounds of my boots running, and the shriek of metal running across the pavement and then gravel, make me pound through the lit living room faster. The smell of gas in my nose as I run, has me reaching for a match. Fuck Taylor, I dive over the bar, I need a good distraction.

I get the match and box ready and run for the back door, the sound of heavy steps getting closer. I strike the match and light the box on fire. "HEY ANNE, FUCK YOU," I slam the backdoor open and fling the burning ball of matches behind my head. Turning back to see if that worked...

The burning ball, flies through the open doorway heading straight for the-

*squelch*

-skeleton...

I slow to the middle of the backyard as it frames the door, the formerly burning box of matches crushed in its fist. A smokey glass statue of a nude woman, her skeleton a dull grey in the lighting from the doorway. Her empty socket skull stares back as I watch her pull a bolt from her skull. It drops to the ground with a dull clatter, and she steps into the yard. She is tall and lanky and totally going to kill you if you don't start moving girl!

I snap out of my stupor and start running in any direction, it doesn't matter. I just need to get away...

---

I didn't lose them for four hours, as they chased me through the dark streets of downtown. A constant shriek of metal claws on brick walls, and the lighter sounds of wet footsteps mixed with gross gurgles. They giggled as they hunt me through the dark. My ribs aching as I try my best to outmaneuver them through walls and ceilings.

I eventually did lose them after cutting through a Merchant store house. I would have probably found it funny to see the slimy skeleton and razor blade Annette tore that place apart, Merchant's included, but I was still thinking that it could be me that the two monsters might be feasting on right now. So, I quickly took the distraction for what it was and left. I need to rest anyways; my ribs are killing me...

---

"So, how does it feel to be out hunting, Rose."

I look over at Annette, a severed arm being eaten by her, bone and all, while I look down at the many dried husks under me. I smile and whine, it coming out of my mouth like a wet hum, soooo full!

Her laugh rings out in the warehouse, the bodies around us leaking delicious red fluids my gel lapping at the streaks. I grab another body and feel my fangs extend as I bite deep into the corpse. The body drains instantly. "Well, I'm glad that you enjoyed it," her silver mask hiding half of her face as her jaw unhinges to take another bite, "so what are we going to do with the Merchant?"

I look over at the whimpering drug peddlers and then back down to my dinner. A whole nest of rodents, I smile as I pick up another fat one and bring it up to my teeth, we were so lucky to find it while we apprehended the criminals. Shame we couldn't catch the intruder, but it did teach us some things. One, the PRT are not to be trusted at all. That was clearly Shadow Stalker, and while we do lurk in the night, eating roadkill isn't a crime. The second thing it taught me is that I like chasing things, or maybe just running with a goal, but I don't want to go back into my walls. I turn to my other, her sharp teeth biting through the side of a rat, blood painting her lips red. I don't know, I say across our connection, but we unfortunately can't eat them, Danny would be scared if he found out.

I can feel her eyes widen, before her red stained lips smile, "well we can't ruin your re-introduction now can." I smile back, my black membrane ruby with rat blood, a color that will fade as I digest the life into my anima. "Oh, I can't wait," Annette jumps up from her crouch, her exited movements causing a few of the Merchant's to urinate, "All our children are going to be so happy to have you, and you're going to love all their little things." She looks down at me, her smile one of happiness before shifting to amusement, "and going to have to get you into clothing though, a full display of your privates will embarrass the kids to death and make Danny's heart race a little too fast."

I look down at my flesh, see through though it may be, and realize that I am one hundred percent anatomically correct. I am also one-hundred percent naked...

Oh...I never noticed that...

---

So I know it is late and not spectacular, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways...

 

[Maseudo]

Thanks for the chapter, gotta love the obligatory Sophia does stupid and can't understand her worldview is flawed. Also another mom, that's like 50% more parents, a 150%. More family is better, hurray!!

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

Just something to tide you over...

---

The murmur of soft voices fills the street behind me as I stare up at the steel wall in our path. The abandoned outskirts of London, remind me of the time I was here last. The Blitzkriegs of World War Two having filled my time there with bombed out buildings and nightly raids. The buildings of this time are just abandoned, having long been left when most of the city was quarantined in 2002. And I have to get through that...

My skin smokes in the daylight, covering my fellows in a grey ash cloud as I try may hardest to figure out how to handle this. The wall extends upwards into the heavens and even from this distance it takes me a minute of neck craning to actually see the sky above it. It has no entrances or exits to the structure, as you would expect from the outer quarantine wall of London, but still, it is in our way. At the base, humans in plastic-looking armors patrol with heavy weapons.

"Moryt has picked hell for his rally."

I look over to my left at the heavily accented female voice to see the grey green flesh of a very old draugr. "You know how he is with his territory; it is not like a ghoul to let the living have it all to themselves." It gets a chuckle out of the dead woman, her rotting face lipless in its smile, as she leans on her weapon, an ancient garden hoe. She looks behind her and I follow her gaze. "Do you think that we could storm the gate with these meager forces," I doubt it, but from one warrior to another I'd like to know her opinion.

"We lack all but the spirit, they are not enough..."

I nod, "more waiting then."

I have been here for a couple weeks, and I have a long history of waiting. After all I have done so for centuries now. I look back at the wall, my legs itchy with the need to move, a summoned knife in my hand is gripped in anticipation. Doesn't mean I enjoy it...

We need to get past this wall, the immaterial have already move on ahead of us to Sawtooth. "If only a union or maybe a lich comes." I grunt my agreement to her, even as I try to ignore my growing hunger. I doubt that Minerva will be coming, and if there is a union left in Europe it will come by sea rather than through the English Channel, like I and the others here. If only my master had decided to come with me... I think about that thought for a second, before mentally shaking my head. No, it is good that Master did not come with me and decided to travel alone. Master is...annoying this century...

"If we stay here for much longer the humans will notice the ash cloud," I sigh and send my weapon back to the dark, "Elain should have stuck with us to help it's not like-" I stop as I hear familiar clinking metal. A sound I haven't heard since my infancy as a vampire. Plate mail has been long dead and I do not exactly miss it, but learning how to move as a shadow, swift and deadly, in armor was a useful skill to learn. My master is supposed to be a few days behind me, I look back to the edge of the fog, who could this possibly be?

Out of the grey she appears, an armored sabaton stained red with blood on its bluish metal steps out into view. The swing of armed gauntlets easy despite the weight of them, a chest plate of bright blue walks out as the obscuring close helmet appears. The neck is stiff as thick straps of leather keep her head from falling off. A mane of fire leaks through the slots of the armor, and the large handle of a sword rises behind her...And then my master skips out behind her.

God if your there, smite me...

The draugr next to me laughs as my expression clearly shows my pain. I watch as my master, who decided that being an eighteen-year-old girl this century was a fun idea, skips next to the impassive dullahan. And she just had to wear that outfit too, I groan internally as my blood thins in embarrassment. She is dressed in what she calls her "sinister yet cool" outfit, a long dark red cape, black dress pants, white gloves, and a bright gold cross over her white dress shirt. The frills... Satan it is tacky. "Oh, shut up Alexander," I choke as my master reads my thoughts, "you're just mad that you could never pull this off."

"Master," I sigh as I bow to the young-looking girl. Not that it truly matters, but her hair is dark and long almost to her feet, a typical sharp looking nose, and her eyes are wide and crazy. I'm not impressed. "Master, I understand that you have particular...tastes," I try not to gag on my tongue, "but weren't you the one who taught me to dress simple, to better disguise us from the living?"

"Oh, but this is cute," She spins in a circle having the cape flutter out, "and it has been so long since I've dressed up in my original sex, don't you remember Mircalla?"

"Yes, I also remember Lilith," the form that saved me in the woods all those years ago. A tall raven-haired woman, pale as the moon with eyes like ponds of blood, standing over my bleeding body, just a boy before a beautiful monster. "What you were named before all of this."

My master blushes at the old name, and imagery, as far as I know or care her real name. "Look you know why I had to change it, first I was called a demon which was fun up until they started calling me a succubus!"

She is of course talking of the church, but I suppose she could be talking about the Israelites or maybe the Ancient Babylonians. How my master found her name inside the Bible and the common tongue of man, before she even started to really socialize with creatures is a total mystery to us both. "Well, you did tend to kill people in their beds," and there is that one woman that you-

"Don't you dare finish that thought, Iris and I's relationship is not evidence that I'm a sex-crazed demon!" Her voice is stern as she narrows her eyes at me. It is a bit lost when I must look down at her, but this has kind of been the thing for the last seventy years. I'm... well, getting used to it. "I'm so much better than a sex-crazed demon, just ask mine and Iris's harem." I roll my eyes at that, not exactly proving your point on the whole sex-crazed part.

"Yes of course, forgive my thought Master," I feel a grin grace my face at thought of the much saner Iris, "will she be joining us, or has she moved on ahead?" The medium Iris was powerful in life, but now in death her spirit is a force of nature. She is probably already there, she hates waiting. Probably has to do with being stuck on an island for most of her life... She is a much better mother than Mother. I suppress a shudder.

"Yeah, yeah, she said that we could meet up when I arrive in two days," my diminutive Master gestures to the suit of armor next to her," but I ran into someone on the way here."

"I see," I turn to the blue armored giant, and she is tall now that I can see her up close. Standing a good head over mine, and next to the barely five-and-a-half-foot height of my Master it looks almost silly. "And who are you?"

---

I look down at the stick of a vampire before me, he looks fragile. A lanky body, dressed in simple clothing, business casual. Shoulder length brown hair, straight like curtains, frame a youthful face with tired muddy red eyes. Looks are always deceiving, but he looks nice for a vampire, not too snooty like a lot of the younger ones that carry the title elder. Leech told me all about Alex on the way here, too bad I couldn't see the "baby" pictures.

"Kathrine," my voice sounds like a furnace as it steams through the vents of my helm. The inferno of my hair turning bright with the sound. "I hail from Carrauntoohil, Ireland."

"I see so you're answering the call to arms too," Alex's voice is a smooth and soft one, but clearly, he is tired, "what is your stake in this?"

"She's married to Dr. Morgan!" I stare down at Leech, her childish face hiding the fact that a three-millennium old just burst out my story to others, like a child. I ignore her and turn to him.

" I am aware that the end is soon, and I will not let the world die without a fight," I turn to look down the slits of my helm, my bright electric gaze piercing Leech's, "I did not come here for him, Leech." I am very much over my ex...

"Leech?"

"Oh, yeah," the young-old vampire god shrugs off my glare, as if it isn't a powerful curse, "I changed my name again."

I ignore the ensuing argument between master and servant and turn to the other undead, a draugr it looks like. Her cloths are rotting on her body, barely covering her obvious lack of modesty. It is some kind of leather apron, tightly adhered to her dark green flesh. Solid work boots showing the wear and tear of her trip. Her flesh is rotting around wounds, and her face lacks lips. A musical instrument rest across her lower back. "Who are you?"

"I believe the word of English just means monster, name me Saurr," the voice is like paper and steam, but I can hear how amused by all this she is. "My reasons much like yours, I protect."

I nod, and turn to the two-bickering vampire, and then past them to the wall. I frown unseen, God Amon, why the fuck did you stay here of all places. I'm not looking forward to this, I step past the other undead and start walking to the wall. Meeting Amon I mean, the wall is nothing...

I can hear the three undead following behind me, the shouts of confusion and questions from the vampires doesn't mask the sounds of the other undead beyond following along. I walk steadily towards the wall.

Last time I saw Amon was the hospital, where I died. Cancer is a bitch, but it is even worse when your spouse isn't even there to see you off.

I growl under my breath, like a forge roaring with its bellows.

The one last good thing he did for me was burying me like I asked. Bury me next to my mother and father in Ireland, a coat of arms for our house buried with it. I'm the last of my house after all, and Amon didn't want kids...fucker...

The wall gets closer, and I can see humans pointing automatic weapons in my direction. They are yelling at me to stand down, but I can't hear it over the boiling of air in my helm.

Well, fuck him right! I pull my blade from my back with a smooth practiced motion, and wave for the others behind me to stay back.

It's not like I missed him, the air is charged with ozone as I unclip my head from its mounting. A bright line appears across the seams of my neck as I unseal my head.

It's not like I hadn't forgotten how we were. Thunder rolls above me as I raise the sword to the sky, the pings of bullet fire are ignored as I focus, the tears in my eyes vaporized by the lightning in my helm.

For a man obsessed with death, why couldn't he have focused on the one that should have mattered most!

Lightning strikes the blade of my longsword, as heaven fills the blade with power. I scream in my success as the lightning travels through my rotting body, fuck him and fuck this wall too! I bring my blade back, its edge a feather of electricity as St. Elmo's fire dances on the tip. The bullets stop as the living scatter, but I just swing. Fuck it all!

A bright intense arc of yellow light shreds the air as it flies at the wall.

---

I watch as the wave of super-heated plasma slams into the wall with a loud and flashy explosion. Once my eyes can adjust, I see just what the dullahan did. A forty foot long, glowing white gash of molten metal drips out of the wall, the building that the wave passed by have been bisected. I look over to my Master from the floor, she is grinning like a loon, "where did you say you found her again?"

"I, didn't!" My Master springs up to her feet, a sense of bloodlust coming off her strong, and runs out of our cover. "Hey Kathrine, if it doesn't work out with you and the Professor you want to be in mine and Iris's harem?" Oh, God no... She comes back to just inside the door of the abandoned building we stood in. My Master, eyes alight with her instincts, vibrates in place as she stares down at me. "Hey, Alex?"

"Yes, Master," she is standing over me looking more like my Master than she has in the last seventy years.

"I'm going to go for a walk," oh no no no, "would you like me to get you some blood while I'm out?"

The sound of gunfire returns, and another flash of light tells me that the wall is probably not going to be an obstacle for much longer. "Uhhh...," I am getting hungry,"...yes?"

My Master's eyes gleam, and I'm suddenly reminded of my youth as a vampire, back when Master was Mother... Those were horrible years...

"Okay!" She blurs away from me, and the sounds of gunfire stop in favor for the sounds of dropping bodies.

I stare at the wall, its thick surface falling way as it crumples like a tin can.

---

 

[Crista20]

I yawn, five more steps, welcome to my parlor said the spider to the flies. "That is quite a mouth I can't wait to stick my-"
Foods here! They walked into range, and before the second one could finish that though, I stabbed my fist into his throat collapsing his windpipe. "Eddie!" I grab one of the girls and slam my heel into her ankle, snapping it like a pencil. Control over your adrenal glands is useful. Her shrill scream was deafening, but I ignored it in favor of catching a fist aimed at my face. Or at least I tried to, all it did was mean that the back of my hand connected with face. I fall to the ground and they all start to kick me. It hurts me, my cells lacking the ability to form bruises to help heal. Good thing you can't kill something dead. I feel one of my bones crack, and one of my eyes bursts when I get hit with a heel. They are all yelling, and I am hungry. I watch as the bitch who took one of my eyes pulls back her leg. I'm starting to move with the kicks, almost avoiding the damage at all. It's almost like the dodging, I just move with their moves. The other woman, with her broken leg, is just sobbing. I see her friend's foot come in for another kick to my face. I am hungry. Just as the heeled foot comes into a few inches of my face, I bite her ankle. Blood fills my mouth as my fangs extent into the boney flesh. It is sweet. It is warm. I need it. As my body heals from the meal, the tasty human tries to rip her foot out of my mouth, I'm like a vice. The others have stopped trying to kick me and were now just trying to help her. All except one, "Eddie" seems to have recovered and is kicking me in my stomach. I release the girl just as they were pulling they fall in a heap. At the same time I caught the heel of the kicker, and pulled up. "Eddie" falls flat on his back and I climb on top. Straddling his stomach, I practically slam the top of my jaw into his shoulder. My two fangs puncturing his filthy army surplus jacket and tee-shirt. My eyes close as I drink his blood while he screams right in my ear. It is sweet, warm, dark, and mine. I pull away far too soon for my tastes, and open my eyes. The merchant underneath me is unconscious, and isn't bleeding out. I look to the other ones, who are half caring half dragging their member with the broken leg. My food won't get far. The miasma of spores erupts from me and chases after them as I stand in one motion. I run into the cloud of black fog my prey clear to me as they try to run from the sound of my slapping feet. I aim for the more mobile ones, they had dropped their companions in favor of their own skin. I form dense parts of the swarm around their feet causing them to stumble. This body may not be strong or tough enough to take a punch from these two so I just have to not get hit. I catch up to them and slide under the feet of the one on the right. He twist to face me, a swing already thrown for where my face is. I duck around the fist, slamming my head into his chin as I stand up. He is knocked back just as his friend throws his own punch. I grab his arm as it goes by my head, and pull his body over mine with my body weight. It works, and the merchant thug sails over my body as I spins to pull him during his fall. Yes, I fell on my face, but it flipped the gangster onto his back. Right on the curb with a satisfying crunch. He wasn't going to get up from that, still alive too. The other bastard was standing over me his boot ready to stomp on the back of my head. I roll to the right, and back up to my feet with a spin. He swung out at me with a slap, I back stepped and countered with my swarm flowing down his throat. This was educational, but really I was hungry and they interrupted my thought. The Merchant was choking as I walked over to the others to round them up. After rounding them up I tied them together with some spider silk I forgot these creature still could do. That would have been helpful during the fight. One by one I drink some of their blood. It was maybe just a cup from each. What did you think I was going to kill them? Don't be absurd! I even called them an ambulance after taking it with one of their phones. I even thanked them for the meal, even if they were all unconscious for it.
I hightailed it out of there and made my way to mom. The thought I had before I was interrupted was that dad might be at the cemetery. He doesn't like going there unless it is the anniversary, but this was me dying. It was a pretty big event and I checked everywhere else I could think of. It was a bit of a walk but hey I was feeling refreshed after such a hearty meal. Dead tissue was good, but living tissue was king.

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What the F*** is this? did you forget how to make paragraphs?

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

What the F*** is this? did you forget how to make paragraphs?

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More like I had just started writing again. Yeah the early chapters are rough and I was thinking about going back and rewriting things, but I just haven't yet...

 

[Reader458]

The Blitzkriegs of World War one

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Good chapter, but the above should be WW2.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

Good chapter, but the above should be WW2.

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yeah, thanks I forgot about that, before posting...edited

 

[Martin Rudat]

Awesome story, thanks for sharing it with us.

I kind of want to see GG and Amy discuss their impression of Taylor, now that Amy's had a chance to talk to her.

I have to say that on the one hand, what Taylor is, is somewhat horrifying, but that anyone that hasn't kicked the hornets' nest would likely think she's adorkable. More Herman Munster than, say Wednesday.

Wordz

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I'm a bit surprised with Inference Engine; in general, it seems to like Lisa; I look forward to her waking up, and having words with her power.

I rather imagine that Inference Engine was screaming in madness and/or pain at all of the errors, and Taylor gave it a slap in the face to calm down.

Spoiler: corrections

There's a few rouge (red) instead of rogue (thief).

I'm reasonably sure you mean abelone (a type of shellfish) instead of albone.

 

[Tumultuous_Anxiety]

Spoiler: corrections

There's a few rouge (red) instead of rogue (thief).

I'm reasonably sure you mean abelone (a type of shellfish) instead of albone.

Thanks for liking it, I'll have to reread through the entire thing to find everything, but I haven't used the word rouge as a color yet so replacing them all with the correct word should be easy thanks for pointing that word out...

done...thanks again!