Kevin the Bored
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94 Interlude: Krystal 'Candy' M'kaeleigh
🕑 Added 2023-06-20 21:46:35 +0000 UTCColumbus, Georgia. April 5th, 21:16.
"Thank you, thank you! You're all real Heroes. God bless you!" The sheer gratitude in their tone is almost enough to bring a tear to my eyes.
I don't think I will ever get used to this part of the job. If you've never experienced it yourself, I don't think it's even possible to understand.
But when someone puts their complete and utter ๐ง๐ข๐ช๐ต๐ฉ in you, it makes you want to live up to that ideal.
From living in a whorehouse, ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ in a whorehouse, to being a Hero, responsible for the lives of everyone around me.
I just, I don't know.
If I end up dying to the Nine here, I think that I'll die with a smile. Because saving people? This is the second greatest feeling imaginable.
"Haha, it's okay Miss Ferguson, just doing my job!" The jovial, if slightly embarrassed response brings me to the single greatest feeling of my life.
The feeling of watching your kids grow up to be amazing people, amazing Heroes.
Granted, they aren't my actual children, but I've always loved kids, so when I was offered the job of being the Ward's 'caretaker' of sorts, I jumped at the opportunity.
Then, over time, these three kids: Danny, Charlie and Lucy, or as they are better known, the three Heroes: Batman, Root and Carrot.
They might not be my blood, but I could not feel prouder of them if I tried. They are not my blood, but they are my children in every way that matters.
I only worry if they see me in the same way or not.
However now isn't the time to be getting sentimental. The Nine are here, and just earlier they showered the city with messages carved on human skin, like a flier from hell, detailing how there are eight 'candidates' who will be tested in the next ten days, with the 'victor' leaving with them.
I know that they are shaken by it, that the smiles they are showing me are brittle and weak. But they are acting strong for me. Acting as if everything is going to be okay, even when we all know how this is likely to end.
As if being one of the eight 'candidates' is anything other than a death sentence.
My 'hands' clench at the reminder, phantom pains making themselves known, overlapping with my brand new prosthetic hands, curtesy of Mannequin.
I can only be grateful that I made the designs for my new hands a while ago, during a project with Dragon, so I was able to have them replaced within a day.
It's still uncomfortable though, no matter how smooth they work, they just don't feel the same, and while I understand that it's something I'll get used to, with the Nine in town there isn't exactly a lot of time to adapt.
The only upside is that they will be gone by the 15th, though that little titbit of joy is ripped to shreds by the fact that the city's population is estimated to have gone down by over ten thousand just from Shatterbird's opening scream.
Which is why, instead of setting up a trap with me as bait for when the next one comes to 'test' me, we are just working as normal, well, with a lot of overtime.
The simple fact is that there are people all around the city that are in danger of death and it is our job to protect ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ, not ourselves.
As a matter of fact, I wanted to do my patrols alone, to keep everyone else away from the danger that is no doubt going to be finding me.
But those brats refused to leave me alone, going as far as to threaten quitting and going rogue if we tried to hold them back.
They said that I have always looked after them, and that now it's their turn to do the same for me, that they'd protect me, fight with me.
I hate it and I hate them for putting themselves in danger just for a fuckup like me.
But at the same time, I love them for it, more than anything. The only compromise I can make in my mind is that if one of the Nine shows up with the intent of hurting my kids.
...I guess I'll just die.
If I'm not there for them to protect, they would have no reason to put themselves in danger like this.
Part of me thinks I should just kill myself now and save them the trouble. They might be sad for a while, but they're young, they'll forget about me eventually and in the meantime they won't be in even more danger of meeting with those murderous psychopaths.
...But I'm afraid.
I can't even die right it seems. I'm too much of a coward to do what it takes to keep them safe.
"Alright then Candy! We're done here, we should move to the next area before it gets too late." Lucy's voice snaps me from my thoughts.
It's just that every time I see them like this, Lucy dressed up in her bunny themed outfit, with Danny and Charlie either side of her in their bat and monk themed costumes respectively with a crowd of grateful civilians, waving them off with a smile for the work they've done in rescuing them.
I can't help but want to live on just a little bit longer, if for no other reason than to watch them grow into the amazing men and woman that I know they will be.
With Batman's power being echolocation, it's easy to find people trapped in rubble or debris and the other two are perfect for helping free them.
But looking at the three of them, to me they seem to sparkle and I desperately want to wrap them all in a big, tight hug.
However, now is not the time or place, I can always do that later.
"You're right Carrot, let's get moving, plenty of lives can be saved before our patrol ends." I say, also acting as if it's just another day, hoping that they won't find the fear hidden in my tone.
With that, we get moving once again, making our way down the street at a steady jog with Danny using his power to listen out for anyone in distress while I use a scanner I made at the same time for the same reason.
However after a few minutes of light jogging, I notice something off.
It's quiet. Too quiet.
It's a clichรฉ thing to think, but ever since the scream, everywhere you go there has been people in the streets, or the sounds of people coming from the surrounding buildings.
Yet, it's like all the people around just suddenly disappeared.
From the sudden tenseness of their shoulders, I recon the kids have noticed it too and are likely coming to a similar conclusion to me.
Then we turn a corner and are frozen in place by the sight that greets us.
The road is red, completely covered with blood and not twenty feet away, in the middle of the street is a woman dressed as a prisoner, crouched down over seven rows of strips of flesh, with another pile besides her.
Some of them are flipped to show the outside of the skin with numbers or letters carved into them while the pages of flesh with the inside facing up are blank.
The first thing to hit me after the sight is the stench of death, the second is the sight of what lies either side of the street.
Bodies. Corpses.
Torn to pieces, with organs, limbs and skin missing from each of them, looking as if they were ripped apart by some kind of animal.
On each side, the pavements are covered with viscera and gore as piles of half butchered corpses pile up against the walls of the surrounding buildings.
There must be over a hundred of them on each side. Hundreds of innocent people dying such a horrific death, and the only common factor among them, beyond the simple fact of their gory remains, is the number of them who have had their backs torn off, the only clean wound any of them have suffered.
And in the centre of it all, is Tear. The newest member of the Nine according to Magne, even if he refused to tell us how he knew.
It makes me sick to my stomach but I am able to bear the sight enough to keep my composure, which is more than can be said for my poor kids who, while experienced, are still far too young to be exposed to sights like this.
All three of them throw up on the spot, the unfamiliar stench being too much for them.
But as much as I want to smother and comfort them, the sound of them vomiting causes Tear's glowing, blood red eyes to snap up to stare right at us.
The phrase 'dear in headlights' comes to mind as I stare into her eyes and feel myself stiffen, completely immobilised just from her eyes alone.
The worst part is that I know it's not the effect of a power. It's just pure, unbridled ๐ง๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ.
Fear of a predator. Of knowing that you are nothing more than prey to be toyed around with and devoured at their leisure. The feeling of true helplessness.
Then she speaks and it's as if the spell is lifted as I am suddenly capable of looking away from her eyes again.
"Yo!~ Just the lady I was waiting for.~ Sorry for the mess, but you took so long to get here so I got bored, but I forgot to bring my cards so I had to come up with a more creative way to play solitaire.~"
The psychopath's voice is far to casual with the scene around us and I feel righteous anger burn in me at the fact that she tore people apart just to use their ๐ด๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ as a deck of cards.
Looking further, I try to analyse her in the hopes it will distract me from all the death around us, as well as the blame building up at what she said about this being the result of my own slowness.
She isn't wearing a mask, but she has white paint covering her face and black clown triangles painted above and below her eyes while there is a thick line of threads literally stitched into her, stretching from her lips all the way up to her ears in a sick mockery of a smile.
"You even brought friends!~ How thoughtful of you.~" Her words snap me back to full focus as adrenaline pumps through my veins, my fight of flight instincts taking over at the mere ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ๐ต of this bitch daring to even ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฌ about laying a hand ๐ฎ๐บ children.
Practically growling at her, I take two swift steps forward to get ahead of my children and I snap both of my prosthetic hands.
The next instant, in a flash of light there is suddenly a pair of pistols in my hands, both custom made to be ๐ง๐ข๐ณ stronger than any regular firearm and I don't hesitate to raise both of them at her, my fingers on the triggers.
"Don't even think about it you ๐๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ด๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ." I'm barely even capable of controlling my words at this point, to filled with rage at the idea of letting my children end up like the bodies around us.
"Oh ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ข๐น.~ my test doesn't require I hurt you.~ Can't we all just be friends?~" Her tone makes me want to pull the trigger immediately.
However before I can do so, I am stopped by seeing Charlie walk forward to stand by my side and right as I open my mouth to yell at him, to tell him to run away and look out for himself, I am stopped again by the sight of the other two joining him.
"We can't just let you fight by yourself Candy. I'm sorry. You can hate us for it if you want, but I'd rather die by your side than leave you alone with one of ๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ." Charlie's proclamation brings a brief bout of rage from me, quickly followed by sorrow and joy and a thousand other emotions.
I know my children well enough to know that no matter what I say here, they won't leave me, no matter what I want.
I love you.
"I hate you. If any of you die, I won't forgive you." My words are barely a whisper but I know they hear me well.
Standing here, shoulder to shoulder with my kids, facing against death together. I could not be prouder of them.
So many emotions fly through me that I cannot make sense of any of them until they are each overwhelmed by a single determined thought.
'I will not allow any of you to die, whatever it takes.'
As my resolve firms itself, and we each prepare to dance with Death, Death herself simply stands up straight and dusts her pants down, doing nothing to clean them of the blood and gore decorating them.
Then she looks at us and her mouth twists into an insane smile that puts her stitches to shame by sheer virtue of being real.
She raises one of her hands in front of her face, placing her thumb over her middle finger.
๐๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ!
The sound rings out in the street like a bell tolling the herald of a new era and her words that follow act as a signal for the beginning of this final battle.
=================
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
Haha, cliffhanger!! git rkt scrb losr
Anyway, I'm gonna go to sleep now, or at least try to. It is very hot and the ac doesn't extend to the room I'm sleeping in. Though... the fan my mum has been using to help her sleep is free since she's out rn, on her way back from visiting some castle or other.... nah, I'm not a dick, I'll leave the fan for her, even if she probably will be too tired to even worry about using it, but such is the sacrifice of being a man, oh woe is me.
It's just an hour or two of lying in bed, dying from heat before I finally fall into blessed sleep anyway, no biggie right?
Comments
Lucy Edwards
damn straight, though I got carried away by my muse in the next chap, so the proper trauma will be after that one
Scarletmenace
Oh shit, trauma about to go down. Thanks for the chapter! :D
