Laments
Chapter Written By ShawnMorgan and Jedireaper
The sleeping girl tossed and turned, her hair matted and her pillow drenched by her profuse sweating, despite the cold night; the dingy room she occupied gave scant defense against the winter. She whimpered in her sleep as a cacophony of thoughts assailed her.
*
She looked around at her battered and broken city, dimmed with cloud and heavy rain. A shadow swooped over her, low enough that she’d almost lost her footing. She glanced up to see a large dragon spiral round over the city.
It came to land near the centre, its wings spreading out in challenge, and the pose somehow resembling a maple leaf. There was something familiar about the sight and the mythical creature which somehow registered to her as a friend. The creature roared, breathing out a gout of golden flame that shimmered and oh-so-briefly shone through the dismal light, giving her a flicker of hope, a flicker that died even as it sparked. Then suddenly the clouds seemed to swarm in, clawing at the creature which let out a wounded cry as an impenetrable darkness descended.
All around her the world seemed to become absorbed by an inky fog, leaving only the ground below her feet. And then a voice perturbed the sudden stillness that had descended.
“No, we aren’t finished with you, sister. Not yet. We’ve only just started.” Somehow, she could identify this man’s voice as one of Brockton Bay’s younger black citizens. “So I urge you to just lie down and die; and save us the effort.”
The words of the brother were then followed by a feminine cackle.
‘He’s not just talking to you when he says sister, either. You’ll forget I said this, it’ll be like a whisper, playing on your subconscious mind. And the whispers will follow you, they’ll make you do things. They’ll control you, manipulate you. And sister, when I’m done you’ll quiver in the darkest hole and that protective shell of yours, that armour you wear: It’ll make your fear so much sweeter when I’ve taken it from you, and hidden it. You’ll never be a hero, you’ll always be that girl who destroyed everyone. You’re the villain here, sister. You always were, you always will be. And this whisper you hear… what whisper?’
The voice seemed to endlessly repeat those words at her and the darkness enclosed all that was around her, she reached up to cover her ears but the words continued. They screamed with no sound as if inside her.
The ground seemed to crumble below her feet and in desperation (or maybe some thin hope) she reached out towards where the dragon had been. But the ground fell away from under her, and she could see nothing. Hear nothing. And yet the whispers, screaming in her ears, continued as she fell.
From out of the black fog came limbs that were almost as dark in colour, lashing out from the impenetrable darkness that engulfed her, cutting into their victim like whips, in a way that left thin welts across her once armoured body. They then wound themselves around her body, wrapping themselves around her like shadowed cords; the bastard offspring of a black mamba and a boa constrictor.
The darkness around her seemed to shimmer and swirl and then recede, and dancing out of it, a blonde girl in a purple domino mask, who waltzed merrily up to the girl on the ground, wearing a smile like a vixen, loose in a chicken coop.
The blonde girl in the purple bodysuit leaned in close to the whimpering girl, who wriggled and struggled against the binds, attempting to lash out at her as she came uncomfortably, threateningly and quite intentionally too close.
The blonde snickered, easily evading the attempted attack. “Tagg,” She grabbed the girl’s right wrist and twisted it painfully, just as the restraints dragged her victim into a painful kneeling position, her arms pulled back. “See what I did there? Of course you didn’t. I know, I’m brilliant.” She paused, letting the wrist go, “Oh, and I think it’s so cute, Wormy here thinks she can fight back… Lemme just tattle you a tale right now, and say nope, you can’t.
“Now, with that marvellous and witty introduction out of the way, let’s actually get to work. I now give you the one and only… well, let’s just say that everyone has secrets, so I’m not telling you after all. But you, you pathetic little worm, used to have secrets. Then I arrived.”
Every word dripped with either arrogance or contempt, that somehow conveyed its owner’s opinion that no one would ever be her equal. Especially not the pathetic little maggot she was now addressing.
“Do you know what you did?” The blonde girl began, “You filthy little cockroach. You feed from those around you, use them, and then you cast us aside? Isn’t that right, Weaver?
“So, let’s see what we have here… Let’s list it out for us all to hear.” From behind her she pulled out an actual scroll and let the long written list hit the floor as she unveiled it, and she started skimming through it.
“Anti-authoritarian with delusions of grandeur: You believe you can make a difference, pathetic. Suicidal tendencies, yep you have that in droves. Continuously attempting to convince yourself that any cause is just, disregarding your rap sheet which includes several murders. One of those just happens to be Alexandria, leader of the Triumvirate, Endbringer battle veteran extraordinaire, and one of the most powerful and beloved capes in the world. Hell, you even had a lunch box with her picture on it.
“Later in your career, you murdered the beaten Thomas Calvert, while he was disarmed and surrendering. The man was a veteran soldier, and one that was decorated for his service fighting the Class S threat at Ellisburg.”
The blonde’s vicious smile widened, “Your rap sheet is better than the rest of this team put together and it gets even better!”
There was an exaggerated sigh from the blonde and she waved a long list of crimes in her quarry’s face. “Some people never learn, do they. All these crimes against being a half decent human being are heinous in their own right but after attempting reformation, she is the only known cape to have been in the vicinity of the scene of a child murder. I hypothesise that should the toddling victim’s body ever be recoverable, then the forensic report will show that the lethal bullet will match her weapon. And everyone knows how often I’m right."
“It should also be noted that the subject failed completely in any way to achieve her stated goals. To conclude, she is a disappointment to all. This is only made even more pathetic by the love that her father, whom she was so casually able to desert, had for her. A love he managed to retain, even after her multiple deceptions were revealed to everyone in the world.”
The blonde girl swept back her ponytail and strutted away smugly, as she threw down the list, face up. “But forget the list, the best is that she kept the school bullying a secret from her mom! And guess what happened after that? That’s right, it made mommy dearest so worried for her ‘little owl’ that she texted someone whilst driv--ing!
“I hate to break it to you,” the blonde came and knelt next to the girl and whispered, “but, you killed your mom. Ah, Who am I kidding, I loved breaking it to you!”
The girl on the ground froze, the psychedelic landscape spinning all around her, the images of people and places, bodies, the dead. This left only those piercing, mocking, knowing, emerald green eyes as the blonde girl faded, and a whisper echoed from her lips. “And now our esteemed colleague… Pfft, who are we fucking kidding here. Esteemed, my ass.”
There was a chuckle and a male voice with a twinge of an accent spoke, “Well, that was an unusually complimentary introduction of me, eh?”
A lanky youth with unkempt dark curly hair moved into view, smiled and slouched. He drawled lazily as he spoke again. “Anyway, I have to say I’m not sure how I can top the others, but fuck it, I don’t need to. It’s not like me to pass up an easy ride. So let’s see how you feel, having me inside. And unlike your lesser evil bastard, I can do it without ever touching you.
“This is always fun, whether I’m doing it to good guys or bad guys. Now which did I end up being again? Oh yeah, that’s right, you brought out my heroic side, and nurtured the better, nobler, part of me, You know, the part that got me killed by Behemoth in New Delhi. So, wow, dork, thanks for making me a slightly better person...”
“Anyway, I’m already bored, so I’m going to finish up here. And now I’m going to stop you from seeing all the horror, mostly by making you claw your own face off, strip away that mask you wear and reveal what hides beneath.” The youth brought his right hand up in a lazy gesture.
Her hands were inexplicably freed from their restraints, themselves now twisted mockeries (exaggerated into claws), as they dug into each side of her face, slowly tearing away the flesh, screaming as she did so. Then just as inexplicably, it all stopped, and she blinked at hands no longer covered in the flesh torn from her face.
“Time to discard the trash,” he quipped, "but let’s not loiter here, else you'll be washed away where no one cares. Then again, that is where most of the trash ends up anyway… so, you’ll be right at home. Bye.”
The youth disappeared; and suddenly she fell free, and the smoky restraints on her were gone. She reached out to brace her fall, as her hands made contact with slimy, damp wood.
A wash of salt sprayed down from breaking waves, stinging her wounds like a million angry hornets. She turned to face the sea that suddenly was, its large waves pounding the jetty she stood upon. A dark and angry sky twisted overhead, sending gust after gust of wind in every direction, creating the throng of ocean swelling below.
A wave crashed into the jetty, and her legs were swept from under her.
She plunged below the waves, being dragged down into the darkness, the blackness ebbing at her as she struggled for breath, the salt water entered her lungs and she was drowning. Until she wasn’t.
She fell upon cracked and broken concrete, tumbling along till her body came to a stop, spluttering and coughing out salt water that wasn’t there. Above her, contrary to any sane law of reality, or physics, the sky was a seething mass of water, stretching from horizon to horizon. It slowly dissolved into a heaving maelstrom, with high speed winds sending rain down almost horizontally in sharp sheets.
She found herself in one of the many craters left in devastated Brockton Bay. Looking around, she recognised the trainyard, even as distorted as it was. Even as dazed as her mind was, she could dimly remember something about this junkyard being haunted by some sort of hellhound and her pet wolf.
“Bastard, seize!” The words came from a stocky woman who strode across the yard without ever looking around, comfortable and confident that she controlled her territory As she uttered her command, a wolf the size of a haulage van burst into sight, scattering several wrecked vehicles across the compound. It clamped its jaws around the girl’s arm at the shoulder and placed one paw on its prey, pinning her firmly in place.
“Good boy,” said the wolf’s mistress as she gave him a gentle scritch behind his ear. Then she sneered at her pet’s captive and gave another command. “Hurt.”
The wolf bit down immediately, severing its victim’s arm at the shoulder and swallowing the part it had in its mouth. The wolf clamped down on her severed limb above the elbow next, worrying her like it would a sheep, before flinging her into the air.
She hurtled through the air, her flight ending only when she smashed into a shop window, its glass shattering, tiny shards lacerating her skin. She shook her head, desperate to make sense of this whole mess.
She looked around for something, anything familiar and she looked at the shop front she’d collided with. In the windows, on shelf after shelf, were tiny little Victorian-style dolls, with their many mannequins dressed in various fashions. There was a welcome mat with the words ‘Welcome to Villainy’ perfectly embroidered upon it. As her gaze swept across it, she found herself staring - straight into the eye holes of a five foot tall porcelain doll woman.
She nearly fell backwards, as the doll woman tilted its head and seemed to stare back into her soul.
After moments passed, the doll waved one hand imperiously and garishly. The costume on the nearest mannequin seemed to smoke and dark wisps rose up, flowing outwards. This coalesced into a second woman, one that was clad in a skin tight purple bodysuit that combined the ethos of the Musketeer and Samurai. The whole ensemble was capped off with an arbalest strapped to her back; and in her right hand, she carried a rapier.
The warrior woman turned and looked at the doll woman, then bowed, before waiting patiently for instruction. That instruction was swift in coming as her imperious mistress gave a stiff nod.
The fencer smiled viciously then and levelled the tip of her weapon a little below the girl’s heart. “Constrained by threads of silk, and about to be stung. Nowhere to hide, and nowhere to run, and no one to help; you’ll have no fun. So now I shall sting you, and you will be done.”
The doll woman interjected, speaking for the first time. “You sold me on this path although I was unwilling, from bystander to rogue, and then finally villain.”
The fencer took over again, “And everyone has shown you now, how you’ve always been wrong, and this is the end of your tragic little song.”
As though reading the fencer’s mind. the doll woman gestured and the threads covering the girl’s upper torso parted like water. There was no doubt in the girl’s mind about what was to follow.
The sword wielder spun with perfect grace, blowing a smooth kiss to the doll woman, before finishing her own flirtatious twirl. Then she lunged for her target’s chest, and the cold steel of her rapier bit into the girl who knew the only reason the attack wasn’t lethal, was because the fighter wanted to set her up for something…
The girl winced, and gritted her teeth, as she felt the cold steel of the blade slide smoothly through her flesh; and she didn’t dare move. The blade was sharp to a nanometre, and if she moved, she could end up sliced clean in half.
Foil twisted the elegant looking rapier, causing the girl who was run through to tear up from the pain coursing through the stab wound. She locked gazes with Foil, and the assailant versed once more: “Now it is time, my work here is done, so my lady and I again become one.”
With that the blade was adroitly pulled from the target’s body, flicked through the air causing blood to spatter the scene. That little flurry was greeted by a deep breath of appreciation by the doll girl.
Their victim tried to scramble back away from them, but for her slightest effort the blade was plunged back into the wound deftly, and into the dirt; locking her in place.
With that the swordswoman and the doll stepped forward, and the two seemed to flow back into and over each other, merging seamlessly.
The girl looked around desperately, only to see the faces of the dolls on the shelves shift into the taunting visages of her other tormentors; they stood and scampered around along the shelves until they were arranged in a semicircle, their eyes looking expectantly outwards.
The floor seemed to sink around her, and the blade that was locking her in place was suddenly gone. The girl scrambled to a sitting position as the shop door opened, accompanied by a merry little tinkle from its attached bell. Then the door and the front of the shop slid away into nothingness, leaving a clear view of the city outside.
Even as the girl watched, the storm pulled back, just enough to allow a figure to stride through, with a swarm of bugs circling her head like a buzzing crown. Others crawled all over her, like a living carpet, leaving only her head untouched.
The dolls scampered down and towards the swarm that walked as a woman, becoming a miniature honour guard now that their queen was here at last.
The swarm queen knelt down on one knee and peered at the girl through yellow lenses, her head tilting from side to side eerily, reminding the girl on the ground of a praying mantis about to strike. The face was hidden behind a mask that sported two mandibles and at her waist was a telescopic baton, nestled next to a vicious looking knife.
The figure seemed to chuckle, and leaned into the girl’s vision, her poise seeming less and less human as she did so. This was someone the girl knew all too well.
The woman kneeling with her chin cupped in her hands was slightly taller and far more confident in her poise, but remained a near mirror of her prey, as she addressed her quarry. “Hello Taylor,” she said simply. “Do you know who I am in this fucked up little charade of yours?”
This nonstop nightmare had brought to mind nearly every hard decision she’d ever had to make, and it seemed that all of those decisions had only ever made things worse. And now, here, she was face to face with the nexus of it all. The monster behind the mask all along.
“Yes,” Taylor answered quite finally. “There’s only one person in any reality that’s both monstrous enough and that also laments me enough to do this: You’re me.”
*
The sleeping girl tossed and turned, her pillow drenched by her profuse sweating, despite the cold night; the dingy room she occupied gave scant defense against the winter. She whimpered in her sleep and suddenly her eyes opened, and a primal and a shrill scream erupted from between the girl’s lips.