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REND - 6.49
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 08:12:33 +0000 UTCPurple Banshee woke up screaming for help. I slapped her. She continued blaring. I slapped her a few more times, alternating both hands. I wanted to do a backhanded slap but have never done it before, so I didn’t try it to avoid adding clips to the bloopers reel.
She may have turned into her metallic form, but my hits could dent metal. I knocked out some of her teeth. Dropping to the ground, her shiny teeth sunk into the soil because of their weight.
She shut her mouth.
I raised my hand again. She winced and shrunk against the cave wall. She also reversed her metallic transformation, returning to her human, but not really, body. Her cheeks had giant purple-reddish welts where my palms had connected. Any damage to her metal body seemed to be reflected in her original body.
“Like what would screaming for help even do?” I asked, wearing the face of an evil true Adumbrae—just a total psychopath villain. I had made hints about this before, but I might have to push it far here. Made me giddy to try something new. “If your friends come to save you, I’ll kill you and then leave. Best if you cooperate.”
With watery eyes glaring at me in anger, Purple Banshee spat out a broken tooth as the others grew back. “What if I don’t cooperate?” she said, almost mumbling because of her swollen cheeks. “You’ll torture me like I threatened to do with your friend over there? Justice served, is that it?”
“Firstly, this guy—” I jabbed my thumb back at Frizzy Detective “—is not my friend. I just met him. He doesn’t even want to share who he really is. He’s like a temporary assistant. Paid employee, because I’m granting him his life.”
“How generous,” Frizzy Detective mumbled.
“And secondly,” I continued, “yes, I’m going to torture you. I know that you have a higher tolerance for pain as an Adumbrae, but that just means I’ll have to do extra. You might think that if you survive, you can regenerate back to full health and shouldn’t fear anything. But I can do some stuff that’ll make you wish you were dead now.”
Did my threats sound scary? Difficult to come off as intimidating given my cute appearance and soft voice. I tried the nonchalant with violence type of villain. Looks innocent but capable of war crimes.
Purple Banshee quickly shifted her tact. “I can pay you money.” Her words were more understandable as her face healed. “My family has—”
“What use do I have for money?”
“I don’t know,” she replied nonchalantly. She hid any anger for what I did to her. “It’s just what I imagined I should say if ever I get kidnapped. Here’s my pitch. With money, you can buy clothes because your suit is torn.”
I looked down at myself. She did have a point. I needed lots of money to counteract the curse placed upon me by the universe to destroy my clothes and cell phone whenever possible. “I can buy my clothes.”
“Book an expensive getaway. Construct a mansion, if you don’t already have one. Buy a dozen luxury cars. I doubt your power is mind-controlling everyone to just give you what you want. You’re a real Adumbrae, but you need money too. Let me go and—”
“A real Adumbrae?” Frizzy Detective interrupted us. Purple Banshee and I looked at him. He shook his head. “Sorry for interrupting. Go on. I’ll continue patching up my wound.”
“Your BID friend is curious, huh?” said Purple Banshee. “Am I right? You’re not like us?”
“You’re right,” I said. Turning to Frizzy Detective, I explained, “This woman here became an Adumbrae through experiments.”
His eyes turned wide, but he kept quiet, probably hoping I’d continue.
And I did. Info-dumping wasn’t only required for this portion of the movie but I’d also use it to gauge his reaction. “Rich people pay to turn themselves into Adumbrae. You can easily think of the ‘why’ for this operation. As to the ‘how’, I don’t know. I, on the other hand, am a real Adumbrae.” I wanted to reveal that I was Red Hood, but it was probably better to do it by transforming later. ‘Show don’t tell’, as they say.
“Thank you for the explanation.” Frizzy Detective returned to a neutral expression and kept it there. Exiting the conversation between Adumbrae was a good survival strategy.
“Now, where were we…?” I knelt on the floor to be somewhat level with the sitting Purple Banshee. “Oh, wait. That’s a good first question. Where are we?”
“Blue Island,” said Purple Banshee. “That’s what they call it. I don’t know how this whole place works or how to get here. You should be aware I’m not told much. Shouldn’t you know more than me? How did you get here?”
“I ask the questions.” Such a generic line. I loved it. I grabbed Purple Banshee’s wrist and pulled her hand toward me. She resisted but to no avail, rewarded with a dislocated joint trying to retrieve her arm. She hissed in pain.
I held her pinky finger with my other hand.
“Please, don’t—” she started to say.
I bent her finger backward until it lay flat on the back of her palm.
She screamed in pain. I cut it short by slapping her again.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “That shouldn’t have hurt much. You’re just using it as an excuse to make noise. I’m surprised at how fast you heal. Faster than others like you.” Her cheek twitched at that last line. I was implying I had fought and probably killed other customers of the 2Ms. “And you’re good at handling pain. I thought you rip-offs are still afraid of getting hurt despite gaining an Adumbrae’s body.”
Purple Banshee’s pinky was bending back into place. I grabbed it again and included her ring finger.
“I don’t know where this freaking island is!” she exclaimed.
I broke two fingers this time. “Just speak in a normal volume. All the shouting hurts my ears.”
Purple Banshee pressed her lips tight, quaking as she held in her screams.
“Uh, Ma’am Real Adumbrae?” Frizzy Detective said. “Ca-can you not do that? I’m not defending her after what she did to me. But I’m inclined to believe that she doesn’t have the information you want. If she’s just a participant in this… I don’t know what this is… then she’d be kept in the dark. But if torturing her is your hobby, I mean… she’ll make noise. You can’t avoid that.”
“You’re queasy with torture?” I asked. Earlier, he declined to look at the mangled corpse we passed. “This is pretty light torture for an Adumbrae. I was thinking of escalating it. Removing nails is torture for humans. Maybe I’ll remove her fingers instead?”
Frizzy Detective’s face turned white. He coughed as if about to vomit. Managing to unnerve him was a small victory.
“I swear that I’ll tell you everything I know,” Purple Banshee said. “But I don’t know much. Torture me all you want, and I’ll just make up information.”
I released her hand. “How did you get here?”
Purple Banshee explained that she rode on a cruise ship. Asking about its details, it was different from the one I was on—its route was from Florida to the Caribbean and back. The way of getting off was similar though. They also rode smaller ships hidden inside the cruise ship, got swallowed by a fish monster, and delivered to an island, Blue Island.
Assuming she was telling the truth, that’d mean that the various Islands, with a capital ‘I’, were located in different parts of the world. That’d explain the time zone difference. The teleportation shenanigans connected the various Islands. For the Blue Island, there were no teleportation waves, according to Purple Banshee. Rather, there were teleportation spots that activated hourly, bringing the rich clientele to their accommodations, to the arena, or other places.
“You’re asking me about other islands?” Purple Banshee threw up her hands in exasperation. “See? You do know more than me. How am I supposed to know if I’m already on a different island if teleportation is our mode of travel?”
I held back slapping her to not interrupt my questioning. “Where’s the teleportation spot to your villa and when does it activate?”
“I don’t know. My phone was supposed to alert me.” She leaned to the side to look at Frizzy Detective. “But he told you to throw it away. Wrong move following him.”
Frizzy Detective raised his hand. “I assure you, Ma’am Real Adumbrae, that it had a tracker. Using it would expose our location.”
We’re already exposed, I thought.
There were bound to be cameras scattered through the jungle for their hunting games. They should know by now I was here, and I wanted to control how we’d meet. Purple Banshee was useless for information but might prove useful as a hostage. They wouldn’t immediately attack, which would give me an opening to get a guard or two. They should know more than this purple-haired role-stealer. I was rehashing my original plan, basically.
“Next question,” I said. “Are there cameras placed—”
“Gas!” Frizzy Detective pointed to the cave entrance.
Thick red gas, like the special effects of a rock concert, rolled inside.
Purple Banshee jumped on her legs, transforming once again, and was about to bolt. I kicked her in the stomach and flung her to the back wall of the shallow cave. She picked herself up, grimacing. “We have to get out of here!”
“What is this gas?” I had my right hand open, summoning my Blanchette face. “You seem to recognize it. Based on your reaction, this isn’t sleeping gas.”
“I’ve seen this used by someone in the arena,” she hurriedly replied. “Fiercely corrosive stuff. We’re going to fucking melt into soup if we stay!”
“I surrender!” Frizzy clambered out of the cave, sticking to the side to avoid the red gas “I’m just a normal human!” And the lush ferns by the entranced covered my view of him.
“Gotta commend that guy’s quick decision-making.” I nodded at Purple Banshee. “Go run with him. I’m preparing for my dramatic reveal.”
Purple Banshee tentatively crawled to the side, expecting me to hit her again. But I had already worn my Blanchette face. The surge of power excited me, launching me to a high that swept away my annoyance about losing my clothes and phone again. Purple Banshee didn’t stay to watch me transform.
I observed her as she climbed over the dirt to exit the cave. It might not be noticeable to normal eyes, but I could see minute fibers of her clothes break upon contact with the gas. A second later, holes appeared on the fabric. Tiny boils developed on her skin before breaking open as if she hit a wall of needles. The next moment, her regeneration fought back and she was fine again. Then she disappeared into the thick greenery.
Doesn’t look that corrosive to me, I said. Or was supposed to. I could only say, “Graoargh…”
I forgot to snap my jaws! I stared up and slammed my upper and lower fangs together as hard as I could. The sound of the impact echoed in the cave.
The gas thickened as it reached me. It turned into a deeper red with flecks of black. Tendrils of smoke wrapped around my feet and climbed up my legs, digging at my skin and dissolving my flesh. Patches of my skin disappeared as blood ran down my legs.
Quite itchy, this weird gas.
As I got hurt, I became stronger. Rage wrapped my brain. I hungered for the disrespectful moron spewing this corrosive gas. My leg muscles tensed as the urge to rush out of the cave and hunt the idiot who dared hurt me intensified.
And yet, I endured. My control over my Blanchette face had grown through experience.
The smoke rose to my knees. The enemy might think I was stupid for not leaving the cave, choosing to bathe in this gas rather than face them. But I was preparing for the fight. When I’d come out, they’d be in for a surprise.
Gnawing plagued my body as slivers of flesh fell off. My body was quick to regenerate, the new muscles stronger than before, and more resistant to the damage. Skin rewove itself as fur grew all over me. The gas shaved them away, but the fur kept fighting, endlessly growing. Soon, the gas could no longer penetrate my fur.
I slowly walked to the entrance. Or exit. Whatever.
I left a trail of melted hair… which didn’t smell good.
The gas filled the cave, even covering my head, as I climbed out of the hole. My limbs extended, the muscles on them bulging out and becoming heavier. The claws on my hand grew bigger. I enjoyed stabbing them deep into the earth as I pulled myself out of the hole.
I sniffed the air. The insides of my nose stung and my lungs burned from inhaling gas. Hard to smell my surroundings because the blood in my nostrils interfered with it. I was certain there were many people around here. I mostly saw red because my eyes were bleeding.
Exiting the cave, I drew to my full height of eight feet and growing. My gums itched as my fangs lengthened. I longed to sink them into the flesh of the one who dared hurt me. My head was above the gas.
No. The gas was dissipating.
Walking forward, hunched over because of my massive back muscles, my clawed hands draping almost to the ground, I encountered a group of people. Five of them. Add in Frizzy Detective encased in a yellowish crystal. I could hear his faint heartbeat. That was six. Could be seven if I included Purple Banshee fleeing our location. I could still smell and hear her even if the jungle had already hidden her. Six Adumbrae, one human.
A man stepped forward. He wore a black tracksuit with white stripes. A big grin was on his salesman-looking face. I could barely focus my senses on him because I wanted the person behind him—a scrawny man with pipes lining his back as if he were some kind of dinosaur. That despicable creature was my food.
I started to salivate as I approached them.
But Tracksuit Man distracted me. He stepped forward and waved. “Greetings, Red Hood! Forgive us for being unaware we have such an esteemed individual like you on our island. Our boss, Mark, invites you to a meeting. He has wanted to meet you for a long time.”
