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140. Free Spirit
🕑 Added 2025-04-15 01:43:04 +0000 UTCIt took me much longer than I would have liked to put the slip-suit back on. Each second which passed was one more that the stranger outside had as a head start to roam in on the mansion. The figure had looked feminine in shape, a young woman, perhaps, wearing a dress. The trees and the mansion boundary walls had obscured too much of the figure for me to have seen more than that. I hadn’t had the forethought to use my power to slow down my perception to get a better look, because my immediate assumption was that it was Xandra returning. I could have stayed at the window to get a better look, but that would have cut into the time I had to put the slip-suit and skull-cowl back on and to alert Azad, if he didn’t already know.
Suited up, I hurried out of my bedroom and into the upper hallway. Azad was already out of his bedroom.
“Someone’s coming,” said Azad.
“I know,” I said, “I caught a glimpse of them. It’s a young woman.”
“Is it X-” Azad began, but I cut him off.
“-no names!” I said, “I’m Slip, your Clang, remember?”
Azad took a half-moment to consider what I said and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said.
“Your face,” I said, “You’ve got to cover it.”
Again, Azad had to take a moment to register what I was saying. I fought the urge to yell at him to hurry up.
I heightened my hearing and listened out for the stranger. Already they had reached the backdoor of the mansion, and had just turned the backdoor handle and started their way inside.
Not good, I thought, If they’re brazen enough just to step inside.
I knew from the glimpse I caught of the stranger that they weren’t some homeless dude, or some non-powered teenager messing around on their own. Whoever it was, was powered; there was too much of an aura of something unique about the stranger for them to be someone normal.
“Give me one second,” said Azad.
He then raced back into his bedroom and went to the wardrobe inside. After some clattering and rustling he returned wearing an oversized hoodie of some kind; it looked tattered enough that it had likely been worn and messed around with by those that had vandalised the mansion, but oddly big and expensive looking that it once might have been a very comfortable and high quality lounge wear hoodie. On Azad’s all-new, all-improved frame, it still had a baggy quality to it.
Azad reached to the sleeves of the hoodie and, in one simple motion with each hand, ripped them off, exposing his muscled arms.
He then raised the hood up; and a few moments after he did this he tapped into the power, creating a white-vapoury mist which had just a pinch of silver and glitter sparkles dancing around. It had the effect of completely obscuring his face, giving him an almost ethereal look. I wondered if the vapours might be strong enough to obscure his face whilst he moved around, but this worry was quickly abated as I saw Azad seemed to have a strong degree of control of the swirl and whirl of the vapours moving around his head within the hoodie.
I had already increased my stature before leaving my bedroom, so with me fully suited up, and Azad with his face freshly obscured, we both must have looked a surreal sight stood in the upper manor hallway together.
“Ready, Clang?” I said, softly reminding him to use our nicknames.
“Yeah, Slip,” Said Clang, “Les’ go.”
We were about to move off before I realised something important.
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said.
“What?” said Clang.
“Our voices,” I said, “We sound too much like ourselves.”
“Ah,” said Clang.
After a moment he then said, “How’s this?”
His voice came out reverberated, deeper and metallic sounding.
“That’s great,” I said, still using my normal voice.
I didn’t really know what voice I wanted to take on, so I decided to go with how my voice sounded when I was stuck as the fox-frog-monster, after I had newly tapped into the power to regain my ability to speak.
“How’s this?” I said.
My voice was deep, resonant, with a slight growl to it.
“Perfect,” Clang’s voice rang.
The reality of Clang and I looking like the slightly crazed powered-humans we were wasn’t lost on me. I understood well enough that we would likely scare the stranger we were about to encounter with our new looks. But, in line with The Archetype Project, which included as one of its mandates to protect our secret identities come hell or high water, coming across as scary or crazed was something I saw as a necessary evil.
A repeat of my race with Clang occurred on the way back down the manor towards the kitchen. I sprang froggishly from wall to wall, using the adhesion to keep me there until I reached the ground hall, where I instead ran along the ceiling. Clang did his best to keep up, bounding along loudly in my wake.
I reached the kitchen doorway first. Rather than go in right away, I remained upside-down and looked in. Azad thundered along the hall a few moments after my arrival and slid to a hard stop, also facing in.
There, sat on the kitchen island, was an unfamiliar face that still, somehow, I felt like I knew.
The figure wore a long cream coloured dress which reached down to her ankles, and the sleeves of the dress reached to her wrists. The front of the dress, modest and up to the young woman’s neck, had an elegant, prom-dress look to it.
The stranger’s face was the most striking part of her.
It was a face that was half human female, half raccoon. With big, cartoonish eyes. The tip of the stranger’s nose had an olive-like raccoon-ish tip to it.
It was, of course, Xandra. Or at least had been Xandra.
There wasn’t anything threatening about the stranger’s body language, though that didn’t put Clang or I at ease.
I crawled over the doorway and then dropped down in front of Clang.
“Who are you?” I said, in my newly deep and resonant voice.
I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from the stranger first.
The stranger was smiling, but it was clear they weren’t at ease.
“Well hello to you too,” she said, in a squeaky American accent reminiscent of so many female cartoon characters I had seen on TV in my life.
She slid off the kitchen island, causing Clang and I to flinch.
“Oh please,” said the stranger, putting her hands to her hips, “You don’t have anything to worry about from lil’ ol’ me.”
“Slip asked you a question,” Clang’s voice rang, “Answer it.”
“Hmph!” said the stranger, “It’s me, you silly boys. It’s Regina. Duh!”
“What happened to – our friend?” I said, stopping myself from saying Xandra’s name.
Regina’s overly expressive face considered the question cautiously. I noticed her hair was much longer, long and black and very curled, and her ears were raccoon-ishly gray, twice as big, and pointed.
“She’s still here,” said Regina, “You know, behind the eyes. You know what that’s like, don’t you?”
She was looking at me.
“Yeah,” I said, remembering what it was like to be stuck as nothing more than a vacant passenger behind the eyes of the fox-frog-monster that had taken control of my body.
“But don’t worry about a thing,” said Regina, “I took control because our mutual friend needed to take a break for a while.”
“How can we trust you?” Clang’s voice rang.
Regina’s gaze looked moodily to Clang, pointing at him with a claw-tipped finger.
“I’m her best friend,” said Regina, “No, more than that, I’m her family. I’ve known her longer than you two put together, don’t’cha forget.”
“I want to talk to her,” I said, “Bring her back.”
“I will when she’s ready,” said Regina, “But I can’t.”
“Why?” I said.
I was starting to get angry. Was it possible Regina, Xandra’s long time imaginary raccoon friend, had forcefully taken control of Xandra’s body, without Xandra’s consent?
“It’s not for me to tell you what happened,” said Regina, “All I’m allowed to say is that something happened that caused her a lot of trouble and I’m here, temporarily mind ya, until she’s ready to come back.”
Regina’s gaze fixed on me.
“This isn’t like when the fox-frog took ya over,” she said, “She wanted me t’ take control.”
“Look,” I said, “I would like to take your word on it, but I can’t just stand by and let you take her over if there’s a chance she’s not okay with it.”
“Yeah,” said Clang, “Tell us what happened.”
“Ooh,” said Regina, balling her hands into fists and fretting, like the toonish larger-than-life character she was come to life.
“Okay,” she said, “But I’m only telling you both because I don’t want this to become a clobbering match. That won’t do her any good.”
Neither I or Clang spoke up. After a few moments of silence, Regina moved over to one of the kitchen counter stools and sat down.
“Now,” she said, “Would you please sit down so we can talk nicely?”
Clang and I shared a look, which likely didn’t say much since all he saw on my face was the skull-cowl’s fixed scowl, and all I could see of him was the steamy-silver-gold-specked vapours swirling within his hood.
Clang and I relaxed, and moved over to the kitchen counter, pulling up stools of our own. Once we were sat down, I said, “What happened?”
“Well,” said Regina.
She took a moment to smooth out the skirt of her dress, then said, “She went back to the World War Two bunker, you know, to get the bags filled with supplies you and she left there. Remember?”
“She went back?” I said, “But I already agreed with her we wouldn’t do that.”
Regina smiled, “She’s a free spirit,” she said, “She does what she wants.”
“Not anymore, apparently,” Clang’s voice rang.
Regina rolled her large eyes, then flicked back some of her hair as if to flick away Clang’s comment.
“As I was saying,” said Regina, “She went back. But there was…”
Regina seemed to find it difficult to get out what she needed to say.
“...a Peeper officer, patrolling. I think the Peeper’s kept a few of them behind to see if she, or you, would come back to that spot.”
I slammed my fist onto the table, cracking it a little.
“That’s why I said we shouldn’t go,” I said.
“So what happened?” Rang Clang’s voice.
“They cornered her,” said Regina, “And she fought back. She-”
Regina twitched, moving her head about as if having a fit. She got a hold of herself a few moments later.
“—hurt them,” she said, “Killed them. She was already so tired, so stressed, in so much pain. She was losing control of herself. I was scared what might happen so I took control.”
“Wait,” I said, “So she didn’t agree for you to take over?”
Regina looked dismayed for a moment, as if fearful, but she then fixed me with a stoic look.
“Listen here,” she said, “She’s my world. My everything. I’ve been with her since day one. So I know what’s best for her. And right now she needs me to be here for her.”
It took a great deal of willpower from me not to fly off into a rage. I forced myself to keep an open mind.
“And,” said Regina, “Once I took over she agreed that it was best I be in control for a little bit. I can hear her in my head right now. She’s right here.”
“It would be better if we could speak to her,” I said, “Just so we know she really is okay with you being in control. If not, then-”
“-what?” said Regina, “You’ll fight me? Beat me up enough so I give back control?”
“Maybe,” I said, “If we have to.”
“Yeah,” Rang Clang’s voice.
“Hmph! Fine!” said Regina in a huff, “Talk to her, you’ll see.”
I gave a slow nod.
Regina raised her head, over the course of a few seconds all of the changes which made up the new Regina reshaped into the Xandra I knew, though she was still wearing the same dress.
There was a very brief silence as Xandra’s true personality returned to the fore, but then she began to sob. Her face was full of anguish, her eyes quickly becoming red-raw.
“Xandra?” I said.
“I-It’s m-me,” said Xandra, barely able to get the words out.
She sobbed even more, the anguish on her face so tight it seemed as if she might break her teeth she was biting down on them so hard.
“I c-can’t,” she said, pleadingly, “T-trust R-Regina, p-please!”
And she sobbed even more, putting her hands to her face and crying out with such agony it reminded me of when I had found George crying and screaming bloody murder in the laundry room of the Wedder Gorge facility.
Xandra raised her head, then calmed, and all at once Regina; her long hair, fanged teeth, raccoonish nose, and more, returned.
Regina looked at her lap where she placed her hands and gave a solemn sigh.
My gut felt as if a knife were being twisted in it.
“She’s in that much pain?” I said.
Regina nodded sadly, “So I’ll be here,” she said, “Until she’s ready to come back.”
Comments
حسين عباس عبد المهدي
I see so not all alter egos are bad
Mrs Cotton
Wow, that’s full on.
