My Name is Taylor Hebert
"Corner of Welldocks and Falcon, she said?"
"Y-Yes sir! Near the docks," Agent Melody chirped nervously in his ear. "She said she got Lung and the Undersiders contained just behind the warehouse there."
Colin struggled to stifle a sigh. "Acknowledged, Control," he said instead, signing off the channel brusquely as he leaned forward on the throttle.
"You think it's a prank?" Dragon asked quietly. She had remained on the line with him since they were interrupted by the call.
This time Colin sighed audibly. "Melody is new. While I appreciate her cautiousness, there's been no other reports of any disturbances around the docks. And the Undersiders have proven themselves to be very wily."
"In other words, you think it's a prank." Dragon finished for him, chuckling "Escalation is normal protocol, especially if some new parahuman is claiming they've captured Lung. You're just grumpy about having our research interrupted."
Colin didn't bother to respond as he turned a dark corner. GPS was still showing him a couple of miles away from his destination, but he knew several shortcuts between the narrow alleyways.
The docks were dead quiet at night. Streetlights, where they were still unbroken, cast steeper shadows around the buildings. A man, unkempt and huddled beneath a cardboard blanket, watched silently as Colin came to a rolling stop at the corner of Welldocks and Falcon.
He stepped off, making sure to lock his motorcycle with a loud electronic beep as he stared at the strange, homeless man in suspicion. The man ignored him, peering at the gleaming blue machine with undisguised fascination. For a moment, Colin wondered if this was some kind of trap. His hand moved to his halberd.
Dragon's soft laugh broke his mood. "I can keep an eye out on your bike for you, if you want."
"You know, you could have ended the call an hour ago," Colin scoffed, relaxing his stance before striding forward.
"I couldn't let our tinker night just be cut short like that," she said. "I admit, I am also curious about what could have possibly taken down Lung."
It's fake, Colin thought irritably, and he made sure his silence conveyed the message well enough. The alleyway around the warehouse was narrow and filthy, with broken cartons stacked by the wall and a dumpster upended and open on its side, blocking off most of the path. Colin went around it, keeping his face impassive as he stepped into something soft. He could see bright, white light curling around from the back and the whine of its electric illumination but otherwise, the night was curiously quiet.
Colin walked out around the corner to see Lung standing completely frozen. He was monochrome, his skin just barely gleaming. Behind him was a group of ABB men. Just ahead of them, the Undersiders looked like they were about to run off, the monstrous beasts they were on half-turned in mid-stride. They too were still and monochrome.
"Finally! You're here!" a voice piped up from behind.
Colin whirled around, his halberd fully extended. It was a girl. Young. She was tall and lanky, with long, messy curls tumbling around her beaming face and a dark pair of goggles perched on the top of her head. Her suit looked vaguely steampunk — all leather and gleaming bronze trim, covered by a web of clockwork gears ticking along. It was ostentatious tinkerwork; he couldn't make out how the parts stayed attached or their immediate function.
His curiosity was easily tempered by wariness. "You're the parahuman who called in claiming to have captured Lung and the Undersiders?" he asked curtly.
The parahuman laughed. "I thought the frozen statues behind you would be self-evident." She held her hand out. "I'm Toki, Time Tinker!"
Colin didn't take her hand. "Time Tinker? Are you implying you froze them in time?"
His grip on the halberd tightened as he tried to keep his voice level. Toki was a Japanese word; he'd heard the ABB got a new tinker recently. Was this the same person? Colin shifted slightly as he tried to remember the tinker's rumoured specialty. Was this a coup?
"Yes, hence the name," Toki nodded, smoothly withdrawing her hand. She continued to smile, seemingly oblivious to his thoughts. "And no, not connected to the ABB. I just liked the alliteration."
Colin stiffened. It was a convenient answer to his unspoken question. "So that's your power? You can make devices that freeze time?" he prodded as he carefully looked for an opening. Her body language looked open and guileless, but he couldn't be sure. His lie-detector was still calibrating.
"Freezing time is easy," a second voice piped up from his left, and Colin flinched. He whirled around, but there was already a large gun in his face.
"Time travel's where it gets tricky," the second Toki shrugged a little while keeping her gun trained steadily on him.
"C'mon! That was going well!" Colin heard the first copy complain. It felt distant in his ears as he examined the gun on him. It looked like a blunderbuss. Like her outfit, it was excessively ornate, with a polished wood stock and burnished bronze gears half-embedded in a massive barrel.
"Sorry," she said, but her face remained impassive. "You were going to attack from the right side. It wouldn't have worked but would have really dragged this meeting out."
Her goggles, gleaming and dark, looked bottomless as she stared at him. Colin didn't move.
"Your point is acknowledged," he replied carefully. In a blink, the second Toki was a step back, sitting on the ground, gun nowhere in sight. Colin turned slightly to look back; the first Toki was gone.
"She's gone to propagate the loop. Minimize the paradox and all that," Toki explained, unprompted; in some ways, Colin could almost understand that statement. "And to answer your 'unspoken' question again, yes, I explained myself to head off your suspicions about the name." She looked wry as she spoke. "That seemed to just make things worse, so I thought a direct approach might be better this time."
Then she pulled her goggles off, carefully tugging her curly hair free from the straps. She offered a light smile. "Taylor, Time Tinker. Sorry for pointing a gun in your face. Do you mind if we try this again?"
Colin forced himself to relax. "Taylor. Is that your real name?"
"Yes," Taylor said. She tilted her head, a soft smile crossing her lips for a second. "To be honest, that was my first choice. The alliteration just seems to flow better, you know? But Armsmaster — you, that is — told me it was a bad idea and I should reconsider, so! Here we are."
The silence felt loud as Colin tried to parse through her explanation. "What do you want?" he finally asked.
"Well, I did call in to report a crime," Taylor teased, gesturing to the frozen villains.
Colin peered closer at Lung. He appeared hunched, his skin silverish with the faint impression of scales. It was hard to tell with him in black and white. Taylor had apparently caught him at the exact moment his power was kicking in.
Just a coincidence, or a calculated move? He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She appeared calm and completely unruffled. Not an easy read.
He turned towards the Undersiders. They looked mid-flight, facing away from Lung. One of Hellhound's dogs looked almost floating with its paws frozen in a lunge forward. He could make out wispy black smoke trailing around them.
Lung ambushed the Undersiders. They had started to run away, and Lung was ramping up to chase them. Grue was releasing his smoke to cover their escape, but Taylor caught him in the exact moment before it billowed out, just like Lung.
"Dragon, are you still there?" he said lowly, glancing behind to make sure he was far enough from the other tinker.
"Yes." There was a short pause. "I think you made the right call, standing down. If her powers are as she says..."
"So she claims," Colin said, without heat. "My lie-detector hasn't been responding properly. She must be blocking it somehow. We can't verify anything she says."
"Lung and the Undersiders are trapped in time," Dragon pointed out reasonably. "You can't always rely on your lie-detector, Colin."
Colin sighed after a moment. "Something just feels wrong."
"Yes," Dragon agreed, "but I don't think it's her, specifically. It's more of how she controlled the entire encounter. I suspect that is how many interactions with her will feel like. But she also caught Lung and the Undersiders tonight. Take the win. One step at a time."
A ghost of a grimace flitted across his face. "Yes, you're right. I just—" he cut himself off, exhaling loudly as he closed his eyes. "Yes. I'm sorry, I'll have to end our call now. The matter has been officially confirmed, and I'll need—."
"—need to follow up accordingly with the proper procedures." Dragon finished, her tone warm. "I'll check in with you tomorrow. Remember to rest, Colin."
He nodded absently as he hung up. Then he placed the call. Melody picked up almost immediately.
"Sir?"
"This is Armsmaster. I need transport for Lung and the Undersiders. They're behind the warehouse at the corner of Welldocks and Falcon."
"Wait, it was real?" Melody half-shouted. "What happened? Is the parahuman still there??"
"Send me their ETA when they're out," Colin spoke forcefully, ignoring her questions. "The parahuman rogue will be accompanying me back to HQ. Armsmaster out."
Taylor was still sitting in the same position as he left her, fiddling with an oversized device clasped on her wrist. It looked both old and new, with multiple rotary knobs around a sleek screen. She looked up as he approached her.
"A transport is on the way to pick them up. You can give your full statement at the PRT HQ," he started without preamble.
Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I don't think I agreed to go with you yet, so far."
"I assumed you'd have the time."
"Hah!" Taylor laughed, a sharp bark as she threw her head back. "I liked that," she said as she stood, dusting her pants off and stretching side to side. "You know, I can just teleport all of us into the atrium."
"That can be taken as an attack by way of parahuman force on the PRT," Colin replied, his voice flat.
"It would be instantaneous." Taylor snapped her fingers. "Just like that, you know?"
"No, I do not want to 'know'." Colin found himself gripping his halberd again as he took a step forward. "Do not attempt—"
Fingers snapped, and the sound crashed into him, ringing in his head. He slammed his weapon down on the atrium floor, staggering against it. He could feel nausea in his stomach, just bubbling up in his chest and he squeezed his fists hard, trying to force it down.
It felt like a long minute before he found himself breathing normally again.
Lung and the Undersiders stood silently behind the reception desk, just beneath the PRT logo. The desk was pushed far forward to accommodate them and Taylor was sitting on it, cycling her legs in the air while looking supremely satisfied. "The first time's always rough," she faux-whispered in commiseration.
A notification chimed up at the corner of his HUD.
Agent Melody: Help OTW! ETA 20 minutes!
Colin was tempted to arrest her. "Wait here," he growled instead, whirling around and calling Melody again. "Belay that," he barked before she could even say hello. "The rogue teleported us to the atrium. I need a team here now. Code Kasper. Armsmaster out."
Melody started to reply, but Colin already hung up. He took a moment to calm himself. Did Taylor literally move them here while time was frozen? Or did her mastery over time allow her some sort of control over space as well? He could feel a familiar ache throb behind his eyes again.
The PRT troopers took a minute to reach the atrium. They stepped in cautiously, hands near their holstered weapons as they looked at Taylor and the frozen villains.
Colin gave them a curt nod. He also made a note to talk to Calvert about their response time. "They'll be moving Lung and the Undersiders to the holding cells below," he spoke, turning to Taylor. "You can reverse the time stop there."
The girl jumped off the desk. "They'll be unfrozen in exactly 2 hours and 43 minutes then. So, interview now?"
Colin blinked, nonplussed, before setting off into the main building. Behind them, the troopers approached the 'statues' gingerly.
They found a small room, bare except for a table and two dingy chairs. The light flickered, on, off, on, before settling down with a low buzzing whine.
Taylor set herself on one cold metal seat and watched as Armsmaster sat opposite her. Behind him, she could see her reflection warped on the dark glass.
There was a camera in the corner of the room, trained on her with a beady red light.
"State your name for the record," Armsmaster started. The words grounded him and helped to brush off any lingering feelings of unsettlement.
"Taylor," Taylor said. "Time Tinker," she added after a moment's silence.
"This isn't a game," Armsmaster leaned back, crossing his arms. "Despite what you may have heard, people would kill and have killed for secret identities. Your family will be put in unnecessary danger."
"I know," Taylor agreed readily. She laid her left arm out on the table and nodded to the oversized device strapped around her wrist. "And I've built alarms for that. Anything attacks my house or my parents, I'll know about it before it happens right here on this screen."
Armsmaster looked at the screen. It was filled with strange scribbles, flashing so rapidly they looked superimposed on each other. The device itself was like a metal bracer, made of a jumble of pipes that looped up and around her arm, covering a series of moving gears that ticked backwards soundlessly.
"How many times have we done this now?" He tried a different tack.
"This is the first time. Really!" she laughed at the frown on his face. "Kinda why I wanted to teleport. Trying to maneuver the Undersiders and Lung was really tedious, I'd have you know."
"They weren't supposed to clash?" Armsmaster asked.
"Oh, they were, just not today," Taylor waved him off, leaning forward a little excitedly. "Backstory is, the Undersiders robbed one of Lung's casinos last week. Lung was supposed to track them down and attack them in 2 days. But— wait. Do you need to write this down? I can go slower."
"No, my helmet has been recording." Armsmaster motioned her to continue. "Why didn't you keep to the original events?"
"The first problem was apparently the person on duty that day just didn't believe me when I said I'd captured Lung. In fact, only the officer today believed me so that really narrowed down my options," she said, counting off her list on her fingers. "The next problem was then trying to speed up Lung's timetable, but not too much so that it would fall on the exact time tonight."
Colin closed his eyes. Of course. "Alright," he said, cutting Taylor off. She looked like she was about to go into an unnecessary tirade. "Why? Why go to such lengths?"
She looked surprised at his question. "I wanted to meet the PRT of course."
Armsmaster shook his head. "You could have made an appointment any time."
"I wanted to make a good impression," Taylor said.
He didn't relent. "Lung and the Undersiders. You could have captured them separately and brought them here yourself. Instead, you chose to engage in a long, arduous process to set up a chain of events to bring me there so that I could bring you here."
"Yes, and it's impressive, isn't it?" she smiled. "You don't want to admit it, you probably don't want to believe it until you've interviewed the villains yourself, but you're impressed."
"I—" Colin felt a vein throb dangerously beneath his left brow. "You did all this just to impress me?"
"Oh, not just you. Everyone!" Taylor exclaimed, throwing her arms out wide. "I really, really, wanted to make a good first impression."
Before he could say anything to that, a shrill beep cut through the nasal fluorescent whine in the room.
Taylor looked at her bracer, her bright grin slipping off. "This can't be right," she muttered, her fingernails tick-tapping quickly over the screen. It was flashing red, a thousand tiny lines running through the screen, and it cast an ominous pall over her face as she grew more and more frantic.
Colin straightened up as he watched her. "What's wrong?"
She stood up abruptly. "My parents are being attacked. I have to go."
"Wait!" He reached out for her, almost on reflex, and the world disappeared from under him.
An hour-long second passed (or was it a second-long hour?), and he crashed onto a cool, wet lawn. He groaned, pushing his helmet against the ground as he tried to pull himself together. It was still nighttime, but he could see the green on the grass as bright as day.
He looked up.
Scion was there, just above the trees. His hand was lazily outstretched, and at his fingertips was a miniature sun. Colin could see the fire, ebbing across the surface in quick, hopping waves. He could almost hear the heat, crackling and burning, and he could feel the weight of it all, just hanging precariously at the tip of a golden finger.
"What are you doing?!" Taylor was shouting.
They were on the small lawn of a quaint house. There was a tall tree hanging over the property, brushing up against the edge of the roof, and the lawn sprinklers were still dripping.
He saw two people standing at the door, seemingly frozen as Scion looked down on them imperiously.
"MOM! DAD!!" Taylor started running but only the ground moved as the world yawned the length of the horizon. Her suit shimmered and steamed as she pressed forward. Every step sparked off a little jolt of lightning across the ground.
She screamed as Scion flicked his wrist and the molten star descended onto the house.
The gears on her suit spun white-hot as she advanced. Colin tried to stand, to follow her somehow, but everything felt sluggish as he strained against his body to just move.
And slowly, as the roof burned to ash, Taylor got through. The world snapped back in place as she punched through it, landing and stumbling over the second step of her porch. Colin lurched forward, scrabbling on his knees as the house was suddenly back in front of him.
Above, Scion turned to look at them. Immediately Colin felt suffocated, as if a great weight was resting on his chest. He couldn't move. Only his suit kept him upright, palms beside his knees, in supplication before a shining god.
Taylor stood up, gritting her teeth as she grabbed the banister for balance. The screen on her wrist was shattered. A gear spun off in a flurry of sparks, cutting a thin red line across her cheek. She could feel Scion's gaze on her but she ignored it. She shoved herself against the invisible current and took one step forward.
The second floor was swept away in a blitz of flame.
It should be hot, Taylor thought as she took a second step. But it wasn't. In the flapping wind and crackling fire, she only saw her parents, frozen in the foyer.
She thought she saw them mouth something, just as they disappeared behind a blazing light.
"NO!" she screamed, reaching into the sun.
Colin could only close his eyes as the world went white. Like that moment before a pin drops, there was no force, no movement, only a stillness that grew into a deafening shriek before—
Something shrill and tiny rang out, and the world returned to him. He blinked, shaking his head. The house was gone. Only the floor was left, its tiles black with soot. He grasped for his halberd but there was only air — he'd set it down in the investigation room.
The moon was grey, Colin suddenly realized. He whirled around. The neighbours had all gathered outside, gawking in fear and stupefaction, and they all stood unnaturally still in the soft grey light pouring out from their homes.
"Time's stopped," Taylor said from beside him. Her voice was raw, guttural, and her nose sounded stuffed as she stood next to him, staring defiantly at the first parahuman.
Scion descended. Bits of debris and ash parted before him as he hovered over the charred floor towards a square hole in the center.
"What?" Colin said. A thousand questions were running through his mind, but the words failed him.
"We should be safe for now. I managed to shield us," Taylor pointed to the shining circle around them and the house, neatly dividing the world into the grey and the living.
Scion was floating motionlessly before the hole in the ground. His fingers twitched, just slightly, and slowly, with a low rumble, the floor crumbled apart.
"Why did he—?" Colin started.
"That's not the right question," Taylor corrected him. "You should be asking how."
"How?"
"How I kill him," she snarled, her voice breaking on the last word, and then she disappeared, like a light breeze. Colin instinctively glanced at Scion again, just to see Taylor burst out above him, burying a knife in his eye.
The golden man barely twitched. He only looked back, and twin torrents of sizzling energy burst out of his eyes. The knife evaporated, but Taylor was already gone. She appeared behind him, up on one knee and eyes behind a long brass rifle.
She fired.
Each shot was like thunder, crackling in the little space they were in. This time Scion did stagger — he shifted his arms out as if to steady himself as large, gaping holes bloomed across his back, up to his head.
A twisting shudder went through him, his elbows and knees contorting backwards, and suddenly he was facing Taylor. The left side of his face was blown off, but within moments it was already filling in.
He glided forward. Colin felt useless as he watched Scion bear down on the girl, but she didn't look fazed. Her face was perfectly blank as she slapped a new magazine in, releasing the bolt and firing again.
One shot blew off Scion's shoulder entirely; another at his left leg. But he didn't stagger this time. His face showed no pain, only absolute indifference as his body reformed, again and again, while he drew closer to Taylor.
She blasted her last shot straight into his face before he grabbed her rifle. His eyes regenerated immediately, searing a straight line into the lawn as the gun burned and melted in his hand.
Scion turned. Colin ducked as the beam sliced over him, pressing down to the ground to avoid the burning plasma as it blistered against the grey bubble around them. Taylor was darting around Scion, loading up a large blunderbuss. Scion turned his head in a full rotation as he tried to follow her but she weaved and rolled around it, diving to the ground before whipping up for a single shot.
Sparks burst out of the barrel like a calamitous bouquet as the bullet fired. Scion raised his arm to block it. The bullet exploded against his hand, carving it off into a neat stump. There was no flesh beneath it; the arm terminated mid-forearm in a perfect, crystalline slate.
Taylor smiled viciously when his hand did not regrow.
Scion stepped down to the ground; immediately the lawn died. The grass turned to ash as Scion stepped out of the smoke. His eyes were blank, black orbs, but Taylor knew he was focused on her. She could feel it as she met his gaze fiercely, snapping her gun open to pop out the steaming shell.
His lips curled, baring just a hint of teeth.
Then he raised his other arm, fingers outstretched, and five thin, shining beams shot out. Each zipped erratically, like strange perpendicular snakes circling their prey. Colin watched powerlessly as Taylor leaped away, narrowing missing the first beam and ducking under the second. She fired off another shot, but it only grazed Scion, leaving a glossy line cutting into his side.
The third beam caught her, slicing across her back and she stumbled straight into the fourth. Colin shouted as Taylor teetered backwards, clutching the tiny hole in her chest before she suddenly froze up.
A second Taylor dropped to the ground, shimmering into existence just behind herself. She rolled forward and whipped up for a second shot. Scion staggered slightly as his knee exploded. His leg fell away but he remained standing, as if on invisible supports. He glared at her, and the last beam whirled around, splitting itself into ten before diving for Taylor.
She ducked and weaved but another one hit her, this time blowing her arm off. She flailed sideways and froze, before blinking into existence again. She rolled under herself and shot a chunk off his other leg before another laser pierced her heart.
And as she fell back, Taylor ducked out from her shadow and ran.
Scion remained still, only turning his head to track her as his beams dogged her path, but every time she was struck, she simply came back, firing hot.
Slowly, Taylor cut out glassy holes in Scion. His right arm fell off as his shoulder disappeared; his left flank was torn off; an empty circle punched through his chest, leaving his head connected just by a sliver of neck; but through this Taylor died and died again. She left a line of herself, like stills on a reel, petrified in death.
The last beam took her head off. Taylor felt her neck snap, her body whipping sideways from the impact, and then she was tumbling onto the ground, scrambling for another bullet. Scion silently regarded her, still standing somehow. He didn't move as Taylor raised her gun and lined the sights straight at his head.
She took a long breath, steadied her hand, and pulled the trigger.
The shot thundered in the bubble; Scion's head jerked back as the top half evaporated. Taylor thought she saw his lips smirk, just as his body burst into glittering, floating lights.
She dropped to the ground, sinking her hands into the soft soil. Her eyes squeezed shut and she could feel the wetness in them. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her body trembled as she rested her head against the ground. She wanted to stop time, just for a while, to retreat into the tranquil second between seconds, but time was already stopped, wasn't it?
Taylor opened her eyes and blinked away her tears. First, she needed to undo whatever Scion did and save her parents. She might have to use Armsmaster's armour for parts. Where was he now?
She found Armsmaster running towards her, shouting inaudibly.
Wait, my lawn isn't this big, she thought, just as a golden fist punched through her chest.
She gasped, stumbling back into the world a few feet away. Scion stood, whole again as he flung her antecedent body off his arm. Her blood boiled and faded from his naked skin.
Taylor dived to the side, scrambling for her gun as Scion pounced. He slammed a foot down where she was, sending shockwaves through the ground. She lurched forward, trying to use her arms to balance herself before something massive wrapped around her shoulder and threw her back.
She crashed into the earth facefirst. She wheezed as she tried to push herself up. Her vision was blurry and there was mud in her mouth. Taylor spat, tasting blood, her teeth ringing with pain, and wiped her face. Scion walked calmly towards her.
Taylor fumbled through her pouches, her fingers feeling numb and rubbery against the bullets. She could feel every ponderous step, rattling her bones. Two bullets fell out before she managed to grab the third. She brought it to the gun, pushing futilely at the chamber; it felt too big somehow.
She couldn't get them lined up right.
Armsmaster came barrelling in, a small knife in his hand. He jumped at Scion, but the golden man simply brushed him aside without a glance.
He crashed behind Scion in a crumpled mess.
Calm, Taylor exhaled, slowly lining the bullet against the chamber and slotting it in.
Then she whipped it up, straight at Scion, and pulled the trigger.
Instantly he was in front of her, bending down. He grasped her hand and gun, twisting her arm away from him as the shot went off, and crushed them effortlessly. The bullet smashed against the dome of the bubble in a dazzle of colourful sparks as Taylor screamed, wrenching a bloodied stump from his grasp. She frantically swiped at him with a knife in her uninjured hand, but he ignored it and slapped her to the ground.
The knife flew out of her hand.
Taylor rolled as he stomped down again. She pressed her bloody wrist to the ground, nearly buckling as white agony lanced through her arm. She leaped forward as Scion slammed his fist down. His arm was stuck midway into the ground but he looked up, eyes burning and Taylor could feel the searing heat on her back. She glanced down; her suit was in tatters but it still looked alright for one last jump.
She didn't have a choice anyway.
She blinked out of existence again just as the laser hit.
Colin pulled himself up. His suit groaned and sparked with every little movement, the HUD in his visor a constant flashing red. He watched as Scion stood calmly, pulling his hand out of the ground. It was undirtied. The golden man turned slightly, scanning.
It was like a thunderclap, an instant where the world turned inside out and leftways right. Scion moved, his hand shooting up and pulled. There was a superposition of light and shadow, like a negative flash, and Taylor yelped as she smashed into the dirt, jerked back into reality.
She coughed violently, blood dripping out of her mouth. She clutched her bare arm to her chest; her hand was restored, at least. Scion was moving, dragging her by her foot across the ashes. Something hard dug into her back but she only felt it distantly, like a stranger in her body. Her head pounded fiercely, and she heaved, spitting blood from an empty stomach.
As she slid across the ground, the gears on her outfit fell off, leaving a line of tinkling gold in the blackened sand.
They stopped at the charred remains of her house. Scion waved a finger, and what was left of the floor crumbled away. A tall clockwork instrument rose from the smoking embers, floating languidly before Scion. It was a massive slab of gleaming metal with multiple pipes curling out from the top. The surface was serrated, with the lines swirling around a blank dial in the middle. The clock had multiple hands, each moving at a different speed; when one hand passed 12, hot steam billowed out from the pipes.
Her time machine, Colin realized grimly as he struggled to stand. Taylor was on her back, spent and motionless, one leg still in Scion's grasp. He was glowing brightly, head tilted as he peered closely at the machine.
The golden shine poured forward, sliding over the machine, creeping upon Taylor. Then the clock spun dizzily and Taylor screamed, clutching her head. Scion ignored it.
"STOP!" Her voice was hoarse. She tried to sit up, reaching futilely for Scion. "You're going to destroy—"
The clockwork machine shone incandescently, the hands on its face a black whirl, and then it exploded.
In that moment when time hung still for a second and an eternity, Colin saw Taylor turn to him. Her face was tear-streaked, her eyes were shining, and she was mouthing something.
"Run!"
Then time caught up to him the next second, and everything went gray. Reactions:Papayasnek, ZetaSan, TheRedOtaku34 and 75 othersnezexyzzarDec 24, 2021Reader modeThreadmarks VirtualkillerGetting out there.Dec 25, 2021#2Well, going to be honest, That was unexpected. Reactions:Lithium, RazielofSecrets, Grimrr and 2 othersAtomicGeneral25Insert Creativity HereDec 29, 2021#3well color me interested! Reactions:xThomas3Threadmarks Kill Count Threadmarks nezexyzzarGetting out there.Jan 1, 2022#4Code:warning: violence
The video's last moments were tense: the bloodied face of Taylor Hebert shouting soundlessly; the image whirling as Armsmasters turned to run. It stopped abruptly on an uncolored dawn, the first morning rays just breaking over the frozen neighbourhood.
"That was the final transmission uploaded to Armsmaster's server before..." Dragon fell quiet, her voice choked. There was a slight burst of static before she spoke again. "Do you need anything more?"
Chief Director Costa-Brown cleared her throat. "Not for now, thank you. Dismissed."
Dragon's avatar winked offline silently.
Pages flipped and people murmured as everyone tried to digest what they just watched. Assistants scrambled around the room, taking notes from their bosses and passing instructions via fervent whispers through their phones. A director stepped out to take a call.
Rebecca wanted to close her eyes and rub at the mild ache behind her temple. She pressed her thumb against her coffee cup instead, feeling the cool ceramic. Her coffee had long since grown cold.
"Do we have a count?" she asked, turning to her assistant.
"Director Piggot says they're still finalizing the numbers with the City Council, but they're estimating at least 15 thousand people trapped in the bubble."
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second. A dead hush muted the room as the numbers settled in.
"Knox. What's the latest from WATCHDOG?"
The head of PRT intelligence looked rumpled. His tie was slightly askew, hastily tied with the top buttons undone, and his eyes looked bleary as he peered over his glasses at her.
"We're working on it. I've activated all assets across the country and raised this matter as priority zero but as we know, Scion's been generally immune to all Thinker powers." He shuffled through the papers in his hand briefly. "From satellite records, around 0318 hours last night Scion suddenly deviated from his projected path over Western Perth and flew straight towards Brockton Bay, touching down shortly at 0403. This is also the first time in the last decade he's ever travelled so quickly."
"3:18am?" James Tagg remarked. "What time did Armsmaster meet Taylor Hebert?"
"Just the minute before." Knox turned to look at his fellow director. "That was the exact moment when Taylor Hebert supposedly travelled through time in front of Armsmaster. Of course, it's still too early to say for sure but... our working theory is that that event was the trigger for Scion."
Rebecca watched as Tagg leaned back in his chair, his brows furrowed. "What about Hebert herself?" she interrupted. "Do we have any information on her?"
Knox gestured to a thin woman next to him. She jerked up, her eyes wide and nervous as she fumbled hurriedly with her laptop. "Err, right, yes! We've managed to—"
"Anna Newbell, the lead agent in charge of history and tracing," Knox cut in with a quick introduction. He looked at her for a moment and she nodded.
"Yes, sorry." She took a deep breath. "Taylor Anne Hebert. She used to be a student at Winslow High. Withdrew from school a few weeks ago. Father, Danny Hebert, was in the Dockworkers' Union. Her mother, Annette Hebert, died 3 years ago in a car accident."
Newbell paused, taking a quick sip of water. "Please note, this is all preliminary. The video image quality from Armsmaster's feed was not the best and we don't have a clean shot of the woman there to compare. But as best as we can tell, a woman deeply resembling the late Annette Hebert was present in the house last night before Scion destroyed it."
"As far as power projections go, we'll leave it to Catherine's team for more precise analysis," Knox picked up smoothly, nodding towards PRT's head scientist.
"Let's not beat around the bush." James Tagg jumped in, setting his mug down with a loud clap. The room turned quiet. "Taylor Hebert can time travel. And in a significant manner since she's obviously also saved her mother somehow. We don't need Catherine to confirm that she's dangerous."
"She's potent," Catherine Kim corrected sharply. "All powers can be dangerous given the right circumstances but we hardly have enough time or data to make such wild conclusions about Taylor Hebert."
"The right circumstances?" Tagg folded his arms as he looked at his colleague over the large table. The dark circles around his eyes made them look wild. "This isn't flying fast or punching hard. She manipulates time. A tinker's most valuable resource is time and she literally controls it. The world could have already been altered and we would never know it."
"Hysteria looks poor for your argument, Tagg." Catherine nodded towards Newbell, who looked tense as eyes drifted over to her for a moment. "History still has her mother dying in a car crash, even if she was somehow rescued. Again, we have no idea how her tech functions or how it is set up."
"A whole neighbourhood's trapped in time because of that tech," Tagg replied quietly, his voice tight with anger. "I'm pretty sure she just surpassed Gray Boy's kill count in one night."
Catherine scoffed. "Scion interfered with the machine, that much is apparent from the video. We still have no idea what happened at the end! There are too many factors and too little information. It'll take time for us to investigate this matter properly."
"We might not have time for you to do that, Catherine." Rebecca's hands were clasped in front of her as she looked at the scientist, then the room. "Today, we're all processing and responding, and the public will do the same. But tomorrow they'll want answers, and we need to establish the facts before someone else can. Glenn?"
Glenn Chambers looked worse than his usual dishevelled-ness as he cleared his throat. "I suggest we keep it neutral. Taylor Hebert was a rogue tinker with a specialty in time manipulation. Due to an unforeseen power interaction between her and Scion, there was a malfunction in her technology that led to, well..." Chambers trailed off as he mouthed some words silently. One hand reached up to grab a tie that wasn't there. He sighed. "I'll have to think of a good word to describe the mess we have. Next, the PRT is still investigating the circumstance that led up to this and we will be sharing our findings at a more appropriate time later. For now, the PRT's top priority is disabling the time bubble and rescuing the people trapped inside."
"I just want to caution, we might never really know what caused Scion to attack the Hebert residence," Knox said, looking directly at his colleague. "The man doesn't speak, doesn't interact with anyone, and he's inscrutable to all Thinker readings. Those answers you promise might be just a nice 'we don't know'."
"That's fine," Glenn assured. "As I said, the key point is the part where the PRT is working to fix the situation."
"There might be no 'fix'," Tagg said. "We didn't have a fix for Gray Boy either."
Glenn's smile turned noticeably more strained as he turned to Tagg. "His bubbles, as I understand, were considerably smaller. And correct me if I'm wrong, Catherine, but the mechanics of parahuman powers can be fundamentally very different even if they look superficially similar, yes?"
Catherine nodded slowly, although she looked troubled. "Yes, they can be. We should know more after the research group has been deployed. Currently, Armstrong is organizing them over at Boston before sending them over."
"They're expected to arrive in Brockton before noon, right?" Rebecca looked down, flipping through a document. "How long do they need before they can give us an estimate?"
"We'll get you something by midnight tonight," she replied carefully. "But it might not be comprehensive and many details will change as we investigate further."
"Alright. Oh, do you have anyone following up on the time difference in the video as well? I looked out for it, but I can't seem to pinpoint when it happened."
A sudden hush followed her words. Rebecca glanced up to see her directors looking at her strangely.
"What do you mean?" Catherine asked carefully. "What time difference?"
Rebecca looked at her science director strangely. "Scion reached Hebert's residence just after 4am, when it was still dark. But we can see that the video ends at sunrise," she said slowly, spreading her palms out flat onto the table. Her brows furrowed as she watched her directors struggle to answer. "2 hours passed somehow for a fight that only lasted 10 minutes. Did none of you notice?"
Catherine flipped through her notes again, wincing as she tried to read through the information again. "It feels obvious when you say it, but thinking about it is actually giving me a headache." She shook her head, before hastily grabbing a pen to scribble something on her notes. "This might be some kind of side effect of the time manipulation. It's as if you can't keep hold of the thought in your head."
"The girl is dangerous," Tagg said tersely as he rubbed his temples. "I'll have my men check the archives, see if we have anyone similar to her. Maybe we'll be able to find a similar powerset to better understand her tech."
"I'll set a team on this." Catherine exhaled. "This could also be some sort of power interaction between her and Scion."
Tagg shook his head. "Not necessarily. The explosion was at the end of the video, after—" he stifled a hiss "—we saw that it was morning."
The Chief Director was quiet for a moment.
"Knox. Have your thinkers focus on this with Catherine's team instead. We need to understand the missing time better. Catherine. I need a report on this and the bubble ready by tonight. Glenn, your team will be on standby. Prepare a few variations depending on the severity of the time-bubble and I'll decide after the science team updates," Rebecca ordered, quickly and efficiently. "We'll take 10 here. Instruct your people. We have a long day ahead of us."
Feet shuffled and notes gathered as everyone moved and stretched. Rebecca turned to her assistant.
"Tell Emily to be ready. We'll dial her in from here," she said before stepping out of the room. Someone held the door for her and she nodded absently.
She moved into her office, quietly locking it behind her. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue and the morning still young, casting tall shadows that leaped building to building.
Rebecca closed the curtains before pulling out a small phone from her inner breast pocket. She flipped it open and dialled, tapping her foot as it rang.
"Rebecca," The Number Man greeted her.
"Have you seen the news?" she said without preamble. "I tried to call an hour ago, but no one picked up."
"I saw," Kurt replied. Rebecca frowned as she heard the tension in his voice.
"What happened?"
"Unfortunately you might have to handle things solo for a while." There was some movement from his side; Rebecca could hear the rustle of clothes and the little squeak of a chair. "Contessa was attacked this morning."
"What?!"
"We don't know the specifics. She was badly injured and David had to put her in a healing coma."
Rebecca sat down heavily. "You're gonna have to run that by me again."
Kurt sighed and chuckled humorlessly. "I found her in a pool of blood, her legs sliced clean off. I think she dived through a portal and closed it before completely making it through.
"She deliberately cut off her own legs?"
"Seems so. Which means her assailant must have been overwhelmingly powerful." He suddenly changed the subject. "And speaking of— I saw the PRT reports. In fact, multiple news networks are all broadcasting live from Brockton Bay now."
Rebecca leaned back, her head sinking into the soft leather. "You think Hebert is still alive. You think she attacked Contessa." It wasn't a question.
"It would be a great coincidence otherwise," Kurt said blandly. "I haven't had the chance to watch the video from Armsmaster yet. But complete mastery of time sounds incredibly powerful. Powerful enough to catch Contessa off guard."
"Why would she attack us? Scion killed her family." Rebecca stood and started pacing. She glanced at the clock; she only had a few minutes left.
"Enemy of the enemy should be friends," he agreed readily. "But we don't know what happened to her. More importantly, we don't know how long it's been for her. People change."
Rebecca wanted to punch something. She exhaled through her nose instead, closing her eyes. "How's Contessa now?"
"Healing. Slowly. David managed to find a set of powers in time but it's slow and requires his constant attention. He doesn't dare risk looking for a better one. The Custodian is on high alert and Doctor Mother is checking up on the garden, just in case."
"Alright." Rebecca tapped her foot, once. The clock on her wall ticked loudly in the silence. "I have to go wrangle the PRT response, hopefully, keep them away from poking Scion."
"Rebecca." A rush of air crackled through the receiver.
"What?"
"Did you ever consider why Scion attacked Taylor Hebert in the first place?"
"No..." Rebecca replied slowly. "What do you mean?"
"Her powers," Kurt started before stopping. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "We've mixed time-based powers before. We've observed the same for natural triggers. None of them come close to what Taylor Hebert has."
"So a second trigger, then? A possible third?"
Kurt didn't reply directly. "If she really did travel years into the past, that would need an impossible amount of energy to do. Impossible, maybe, even for the Entities."
The hair on Rebecca's neck prickled as she straightened up. "What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked carefully.
"Just..." Kurt trailed off for a second. "Be careful, Rebecca."
Before she could reply, there was a loud knock. "We're ready for you, Chief Director," her assistant called through the door.
Rebecca stood up, smoothing down her blazer. "I will. Let me know if there's any new updates."
They hung up.
Rebecca returned to the meeting room with her assistant. Tagg caught her gaze as she walked in, sipping his coffee slowly.
Emily Piggot was on the screen.
"Emily." Rebecca settled into her seat, cracking open the new file her assistant handed to her. "How's the situation?"
"Frankly, we don't have enough men to secure the perimeter. Power and utilities in the city are in a mess now, plus we're getting more and more confirmations of our own trapped in the bubble. We're working with city police but they're running even more shorthanded than us." The director looked drained as she shuffled the papers in her hands. "I also have more bad news. New Wave got caught in the bubble."
"As in Panacea?" Knox straightened up. "How did you confirm that?"
"Their house is on the edge. Glory Girl came in this morning..."
Rebecca listened absently as Piggot spoke, looking down at the file in her hands. There was a picture of Scion attached. He was hovering just above the grey bubble, sitting crossed-legged in the air, naked.
She traced his silhouette, her nail scraping against the smooth photo paper. Everything we've worked for. Was it now?
"Chief?"
Rebecca looked up. "Arrange for a counsellor for Glory Girl. Give their address to the science team; if they're near the perimeter maybe they can do something. Panacea and New Wave have priority." She closed the file. "Now, let's discuss Scion. Do you have any surveillance on him? What's his latest status?"
***
Sophia jerked awake, groaning as the sun pierced her eyes. She pushed herself up slowly, feeling her back crack as she stretched herself out. She checked her watch; it was broken somehow, reading 6:00am when it was clearly not. Sophia rubbed her head, feeling the straps of her mask surreptitiously; nothing seemed out of place.
Falling asleep on a stakeout — sloppy. Sophia shook her head. Emma told her there'd been a spate of robberies in the upscale boutique stores near her neighbourhood so she thought she would extend her patrol here, shoot some fools.
She peered over the rooftop, down into the street. Nothing seemed broken into, but everything was strangely quiet. Maybe next time she'd take up Emma's offer, bring her along to help on stakeouts. Shit was too boring to do alone anyway.
Then she noticed it.
A massive gray bubble, looming over the bay, cutting a neat, grey semicircle into the skyline. A chopper suddenly flew over and she stepped back instinctively to the shadows, but it simply continued towards the dome.
"What the fuck," Sophia muttered to herself. She pulled out her phone; 2 missed calls from the PRT and 4 from Emma.
She called Emma first. "Hey—" she managed to get in before the redhead barrelled over her.
"Thank god you're alright! I've been calling for the past hour!"
"Yeah sorry," Sophia scratched her neck awkwardly. "Kinda fell asleep last night."
"I told you to bring me along," Emma teased. "Anyway, never mind that. Have you seen it?"
"The giant fucking bubble? Yeah. What the hell is that?" Sophia double-checked the empty rooftop out of instinct, before unbuckling her mask off. She stuffed it into her duffel bag alongside her crossbow.
"No idea. The mayor's press conference is starting soon and my dad's saying they'll probably declare a state of emergency."
"Damn," Sophia whistled as she pulled the last of her armoured plates off, stuffing them all into her bag. "Must be some villain shit."
"Yup," Emma agreed. "Where are you now anyway?"
"At the boutiques," Sophia replied without thinking before groaning. She could already hear Emma slapping her knee as she guffawed.
"Please don't tell me you literally just woke up."
"Shut up," she grumbled. "Stakeouts are lame anyway."
"Is the big, bad Shadow Stalker whining?" Emma was smiling; Sophia could hear it brightly even over the phone. "C'mon you baby, I'll get mom to make an extra serving for you."
"Didn't say I was coming over," Sophia replied, but she was already heading down the side stairwell, mentally plotting the route towards Emma's.
"Uh-huh. You wanna lug your shit across the city on foot? Pretty sure all the buses aren't running now."
"Tell Mrs B. I want 2 servings, bitch." Sophia ended the call before she had to listen to Emma laughing at her again, but she was smiling too.
She fired a quick text to her mother before setting off. She hefted her bag up her shoulder as she walked along the quiet neighbourhood. The lack of the usual bustle along the street was unsettling.
It took her ten minutes to reach Emma's place. The house was brick red, with ivies crawling beautifully over its facade. A neat thicket of roses lined the foundation, squaring off at the corners as it went around the sides, along the entire house.
Sophia pulled her bag higher as she walked up to the house, kicking at some dead leaves scattered on the path. She knocked on the door impatiently. Her bag was getting uncomfortable on her shoulder, and she couldn't wait to stash it up in Emma's room before grabbing breakfast.
Hopefully it was sausages and eggs today; she was in the mood for some salt and oil. The door creaked open, and Sophia tried to smooth her stupid grin to a more respectable scowl as she turned—
A bald girl stood in the doorway, beaming as she held the door open. She was dressed in a sleek black bodysuit with a red sash tied around her waist.
"Hello, Sophia," she said. The girl's eyes seemed bulbous as they raked over Sophia, and her face was familiar in a way that set off chills down her spine. "You sure took your time walking here!"
The ward almost took a step back. She slid her bag off instead, holding it loosely in her hand. "Who the hell are you?" she pretended to ask as she craned her neck for a better look into the house.
"I'm hurt, Sophia," the crazy person pouted. "I like to think I've kept up my looks even as I aged."
Sophia didn't hear her answer. In a mirror facing the living room, she saw Emma tied to a chair. She was gagged with some fabric wrapped tightly around her lower face, and her eyes were wide and terrified.
Sophia immediately swung her bag at the stranger. It slammed with a noisy clatter into her head, pushing her slightly into the house.
She dived forward, phasing through the girl. She pulled her bag with her, and when they were through she whirled around, materializing and smashing the full weight into the stranger.
The girl didn't budge. Instead she turned around, letting the bag slide off her. She was still smiling.
"Ah, getting slammed with bags," she said cheerily. "I've missed your greetings, Sophia."
It was that sardonic tone that struck Sophia. "Wha—Taylor?" she asked incredulously.
Then Taylor was in front of her, standing tall, pinning Sophia with a sharp, curious gaze. Sophia jerked backwards, her arm swinging up instinctively, but Taylor moved impossibly fast. One hand reached out to cover her eyes, and everything went black.
Sophia blinked. Her head bounced off something hard as she reared back, and it took a second to reorient as she found herself tied to a chair just across Emma.
Taylor was seated on the coffee table, fiddling with her crossbow. All her equipment — the armour, the tranquillizer darts, the heavy bolts — were strewed over the table. The bag was thrown carelessly over the sofa, behind which stood three battered lockers.
Sophia ignored the lockers, focusing on the nerd instead. She looked completely different without hair. Uglier, Sophia smirked internally, before growling. Bitch isn't even paying attention. Taylor hadn't noticed Sophia was awake. She knocked me out in an instant somehow. Brute package?
Her eyes darted around before zeroing in on the bolts scattered just next to the other girl. She'd just sharpened them the day before for the stakeout. Stainless steel, tri-blade broadheads with more than half-an-inch cutting diameter. Sophia tensed as she tried to shift discreetly, lining herself up towards Taylor. Grab a bolt before she can react, then go for the eyes.
Sophia counted backwards in her head, eyes centred on the bolts. She waited until Taylor shifted away, attention still focused on the crossbow; then she phased forward, arm outstretched to—
"ARGH!" Sophia slammed back against the chair, nearly toppling over. Her fingers jittered as she clenched them, trying to will the numbness away. Belatedly Sophia realized she was strung up in Christmas lights. The soft, colourful lights winked at her tauntingly.
"Yowza!" Taylor appraised her amusedly. "Wards never teach you to pay attention to your surroundings, Shadow Stalker?"
Sophia tried to force her irritation down. "Big words, Hebert. You know what you fucking did? You attacked a Ward. You attacked civilians. You wanna go into the Birdcage that bad?"
Taylor only looked more amused. She placed the crossbow down. "Now, now, Sophia. Are you trying to scare me? Only the most heinous criminals go to the Birdcage. I haven't even killed anyone yet."
"Yeah, because you're useless," Sophia scoffed, struggling against the cables around her. "So fucking weak, you turned villain. What is this, your dumb revenge?"
Hebert didn't reply. She held up her arm instead, and with an exaggerated flourish, she plunged her other hand behind it, as if reaching into some deeper pocket, to pull out a long, gleaming knife. She swung it about, her eyes never leaving Sophia, and without a backwards glance she threw it straight into one of the lockers.
Sophia managed to force her flinch down. Never show weakness. "Are those— did you drag our lockers here?" she barked a sharp derisive laugh. "You think you're scary, poking holes at our shit?"
Taylor only raised an eyebrow as she pulled out another knife, sending it into the same locker. Emma was struggling furiously now, a muffled keening coming from her gag as she tried to twist and turn out of her ropes.
A chill shot through Sophia as she suddenly realized. "Where are the Barnes?"
Taylor sprawled backwards, propped up against her arms and smiled with half-lidded eyes. "Where do you think?"
"You're bluffing." Sophia turned to Emma, trying to meet the redhead's eyes. "She's bluffing! Hebert's sheep. She doesn't have the fucking balls to do anything."
Taylor leaned forward. "Emma watched me put them in there herself, you know. I had to make a quick pit stop at the garbage collection centre but I managed to find enough trash to make it more comfortable inside for them." Her smile grew larger and her eyes shone brighter as she spoke. "Exactly just as you did for me."
Sophia spat at her. "Fuck you, Hebert. You think you're big now? The PRT's gonna roll up and fuck you up. You untie me now and I'll make sure you don't get sent to fucking hell."
Taylor froze, her smile disappearing as she reached up to wipe the glob of saliva off her face. "Very typically uncivil, Sophia, but I appreciate your stubbornness," she said through clenched teeth. Her mouth strained to smile as she tried to put on her cheer again. She cleared her throat, and tried again; this time she managed a twisted, overly-wide grin. "Really. I mean, had to gag Emma because she wouldn't stop wailing, you know."
She pretended to yawn. "Only 10 minutes with her and she's already begging. Boring!"
"But you!" the girl exclaimed, hopping closer and draping herself around Sophia. She had another knife in her hand as she gestured wildly. "The fire, the bravado!" Taylor grabbed Sophia's jaw, twisting it to the side to face her. "Is this what Emma turned on me for?"
Sophia tried to headbutt her, but Taylor just darted back, chuckling. "Relax, Sophia. I'm not here to ask anything outrageous from you." She sat back down, crossing her legs. "I just want an apology. For everything you did to me."
"What?"
"Just say sorry." Taylor shrugged casually. "Simple, right? But you have to really mean it!"
Sophia was silent for a moment. She tensed her muscles and took a deep breath, straining against the cables. The pain only focused the blinding rage in her mind.
Hebert was prey. Hebert didn't get to talk down to her like that. Hebert didn't have the balls for murder.
"Fuck you, Hebert," she snarled. "You were a fucking loser then and you're still a fucking loser now. You think you're special just 'cause of your powers? Fuck you, you bald freak. You still want to live? Untie me now and maybe, just fucking maybe, I'll ask the PRT not to stick you in their deepest hole."
Taylor stilled. The room grew silent, leaving just the sound of Emma still sobbing behind her gag. Sophia held her breath, trying to slow it down. She was in control; Hebert was still completely frozen, her eyes glassy while one hand went up, almost unconsciously, to touch her gleaming head.
"Apologize," she finally said, softly, still not looking at Sophia.
Sophia scoffed internally. Hebert looked like she was about to fall apart. She leaned forward as far as she could, smirking. "What? You think cutting your hair made you some kind of badass? No. It just made you a bigger loser. An uglier freak. Just like you always were."
She relaxed back into the chair, modulating her tone. "Don't make this shit worse, Hebert. Untie me and surrender. I'll put in a good word for you. The PRT's even got shrinks to fix losers like you."
Taylor snapped her gaze back to Sophia, eyes cold and crystal clear. She pressed her palms against her thighs, squeezing them. A panic attack? Sophia wanted to sneer, but she kept her face blank. Hebert was about to break. She just knew it.
Taylor stood up abruptly. She strode back to the lockers and wrenched the nearest one open. An overpowering stench rushed out with Zoe Barnes as she tumbled out into Taylor's arms. She looked around blearily as she clung to the younger girl. She was also gagged, with her hands bound behind her back and her feet tied together.
Sophia turned slightly, her hands wrenching against her restraints instinctively as she tried to cover her nose. Taylor looked unaffected. She pulled Zoe forward easily, a firm grip around the woman's dull red hair, cutting a path through the trash to the coffee table.
She forced Zoe to her knees, swiping the table clean to press the woman's head to the wooden surface. Taylor leaned over her, placing her face just next to her's. They peered up at Sophia, two faces huddled together for a selfie; one was smeared with dirt, detritus on her hair and body while the other was placid and calm, almost challenging as she stared at Sophia.
The ward glared in response. A bluff, she repeated in her head, even as she felt cold sweat pepper across her back.
"Hey Aunt Zoe." Taylor rasped, never looking away from Sophia. "Just need to borrow you for a sec'."
And then she grabbed Sophia's crossbow and smashed the blunt handle into Mrs Barnes' face. Emma shrieked, loud enough to hear through her gag as Taylor brought the weapon down, over and over, into the woman's face. Her nose caved in first, bone snapping with a nauseating crunch. Blood sprayed, splattering bloody streaks all over Taylor and the tabletop as she smashed the crossbow in, deeper and deeper.
Sophia fell slack. A queasy cold filled her, suffusing her body and limbs, and she felt adrift in her body. She wanted to turn away, to look anywhere else, but Taylor held her gaze, unblinking even when blood sprayed into her eyes, and so Sophia was pinned, watching helplessly as Emma's mother turned into a gaping hole.
The clock in the living room chimed, and Taylor twitched. She paused and exhaled, before pulling the crossbow out. The weapon made a sticky squelch as it sprang free. Taylor dropped the corpse, brushing it away almost carelessly as she sat down.
"Woo!" Taylor shook herself and took a deep breath. "What a rush. I think I feel better now." She raised a hand to rub her head absentmindedly, nearly hitting herself with the crossbow. "Oops!" she sniggered before throwing it across the floor to Sophia. It left a long wet streak across the marble tiling. "Sorry about borrowing your weapon like that. But gosh, you really hurt me with your words, you know. I suppose some things will never change between us, eh?"
Taylor laughed again.
Sophia couldn't speak. She was rigid in her seat, her mouth parted and her mind blank. Her eyes darted around the room, zipping between Taylor, the corpse on the table, and Emma.
Emma had fallen silent, her eyes red and unblinking as they stared at the blood dripping off the table. The cloth wrapped around her face was soaked with tears.
"Hellooo?" Taylor followed her gaze backwards. "Oh Emma, honey," she cooed, walking over to the redhead. She circled around the other girl and pulled the gag off.
Emma remained unmoving as Taylor laid over her in a loose hug. "You're not crying, are you?" she asked, nuzzling against her friend. She gently wiped under the redhead's eyes with the pads of her thumb, leaving bloody streaks across her face. She patted consolingly on Emma's cheek. "Only losers cry when their mommies die, remember?"
"S-stop."
Taylor glanced at Sophia. "Hmmm?" she hummed, still wrapped around her catatonic friend, idly dabbing little red spots on her face.
"I'll—I'll do it," Sophia said, her voice rough and croaking slightly at the beginning. "I'll do what you want me to do."
Taylor settled her head down onto Emma's shoulder to watch Sophia. Quiet stilled the air for a long moment before Sophia jolted up slightly and started stammering out her words.
"I'm—" She cut herself off, swallowing loudly. "I'm sorry."
Taylor waited. "Is that it?" she asked incredulously. She strode back to the coffee table and pulled it closer to Sophia. The body slumped and dropped to the floor behind her as she sat down, crossed her legs and folded her hands at her knees. "Sorry for what?"
"Huh?" Sophia blurted, her mind racing. "For what?"
"What. Are you. Sorry for," Taylor said, enunciating each word slowly. "Please Sophia, keep up."
"I'm, um, sorry. For bullying you."
"For pouring juice over my books and homework?" Taylor started tapping the floor with her boot.
"Yes. For that." Sophia agreed, before hurriedly repeating at Taylor's raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry for pouring juice over your stuff."
"You're sorry for stuffing me in my locker."
"I'm sorry for stuffing you in your locker."
"Sorry for breaking my mother's flute and shoving it into shit."
Sophia exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry for breaking your mother's flute and shoving it into shit."
Taylor regarded her for a moment, still tapping her boot on the marble floor. "This isn't working," she shook her head, standing. "Something's missing."
Sophia eyed her old classmate warily. She tested her bonds again surreptitiously. The fear had receded slightly and her head was a shade clearer now, but her heart was still beating wildly. Her body felt chilly and weak, the corded muscles she built slackened like putty.
Hebert was more insane than she anticipated. Sophia watched her pace back and forth, carefully making sure to look past the faceless woman on the floor. She spared a glance at Emma; the girl was just staring at the floor where the blood was pooling.
The PRT's coming soon, Sophia thought furiously. One of the neighbours must have noticed something. She hadn't responded to their texts either; they must be sending a team on their way.
Taylor suddenly stopped and turned around with a wide grin. "I'm an idiot. The answer was in front of me all along!"
Sophia froze, the hairs along her arms and neck standing electrified at the manic expression on the bald girl's face. Everything glitched out for a second, where the world flashed grey, then Taylor was seated on the table again, this time with Alan Barnes struggling against her grip.
"Barnes. The Barnes. Of course you wouldn't care. You're Hess!" Taylor exclaimed, effortlessly holding the man between her legs. "That's what I've missed! That's why you're... boring."
It was warm and sticky. Sophia blinked, spitting out the copper taste on her tongue and twisting her head before it caught up to her.
She saw disbelief mirrored in Alan's eyes as he slumped back on his heels, blood spurting from his neck, over his Sunday shirt and over Sophia.
Taylor wiped her blade clean on his sleeve. She tried to push him aside gently, but he collapsed forward, face up next to Sophia. Blood streamed around Sophia, soaking through her socks and seeping between her toes. She could almost see the life leave him, in pulses from the hole in his neck, draining his eyes empty.
Emma screamed. She buckled hard against her chair, screaming and shrieking unceasingly.
"W-Why?!" Sophia choked out as Taylor stood. "I apologized!"
"But did you mean it?" Taylor nodded to herself. "Of course you didn't. You didn't have the proper motivation." She pointed at Emma. "I mean, look at that! Awful racket, really, but proper emotion."
It was like falling, everything in the pit of her stomach emptying out and the fear so thick it tasted sour when Sophia realized what Taylor was implying.
"No. NO!" She pulled against her cables. "Fuck you Hebert, don't you fucking—"
Taylor disappeared when she blinked, leaving her hanging with her feet steeped in blood. Emma was still screaming.
Then she was back, right up against Sophia, her face filling her vision entirely. "Boo-yah," Taylor smiled, bopping Sophia lightly on her nose before stepping back. She had her arms outstretched theatrically to present Sophia with her mother and brother. Both were gagged and tied firmly to their chairs, their eyes red with fear.
Sophia snarled incoherently, her hands and body straining forward futilely. The lights shattered and sparked as she phased in and out against the cables.
Taylor clapped twice. "Ah. The fire and energy. There's the Sophia I wanted to break." She crouched next to her mother, gripping her hand tightly to press flat against the arm of the chair.
"Don't you fucking touch my mother, you fucking psycho!" Sophia roared, her voice breaking. "I'll fucking kill you, okay?! I'll fucking kill you!"
Taylor whipped out a knife with a flick of her wrist and held it playfully just above her mother's fingers.
"Please. PLEASE." Sophia was crying. She twisted and turned, phasing against the cables again before collapsing back into the chair. She looked up at Taylor, her eyes wet and honest. "I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I hit you and fucked with you. I'm sorry I fucked your shit up. Just please, Taylor. She's my mom. Please, okay? Please."
Taylor chopped the index finger off and swiped it to the floor.
Sophia yowled wordlessly. Her chair bucked back and forth, nearly toppling over. "Why? WHY?! Fuck you Taylor! Just please. Fuck you, just please! Stop," she half-yelled, half babbled. Her words stumbled over themselves as she sagged against her bonds and cried.
Taylor only smiled. She pressed her knife against the next finger.
"I liked that apology, Sophia. Say it again."