SSV: Project S.T.A.T.I.C. Part 1

Chapter 3

Jake, Beth, and Pam were on the ground rolling as Courtney's toxin infected them. Their minds felt like they were being fractured by the weight of their own psyches. They couldn't see one another as they slowly fell into alternate realities. They were thrown into the depths of the darkest corners of their minds one by one. Their own terrors and nightmares clawed their way to the forefront of their minds, and they were cast into a sea of their own fears. Alone, they were forced to face the things that they kept buried within themselves.

Pam:

Pam awoke with a start and a gasp on the cold wooden floor in a familiar room. She pushed herself up into a sitting position to look around. The bed off in the corner, the desk and art supplies adjacent, and the bookshelf off in the corner were all too familiar to her. "This can't be real," she breathed to herself as she stood up and felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

Then she heard a voice that she hadn't heard in almost a decade. A gruff and grizzled voice that filled her entire being with dread, "Pamela!"

"No," she whispered to herself, looking around for a way out, "No, this isn't real. It can't be."

"Gerald, leave her alone!" another familiar voice, one that filled her with sadness, yelled from beyond the closed door.

"Stay out of this, Lorie!" the first voice yelled, and Pam winced as she heard the familiar sound of a slap echo around her, "Your pretty little bitch owes me an apology for earlier!"

"Gerald, please!" The second voice begged before another slap sounded and Pam could hear her crying just before the door was flung open.

Pam pulled her arms to her chest as she saw her father step into the room. His slacks and suspenders askew from drinking, and his white shirt stained with drops of fresh blood. Her mother laid off to the side, a bruise and a cut showing on her face. Pam stepped back as painful memories of her childhood flooded her mind all at once. "Pamela!" her father roared as he stumbled into the room, a half empty fifth of whiskey in his hand, "There you are, you worthless little bitch. Get over here, now!"

"This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real," Pam repeated to herself as her body acted of its own accord and carried her over to stand before the giant that had terrorized her youth.

"Look at me, girl," her father growled as he put his filthy hand on her chin and forced her to look up, "I said, look at me! Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

She searched for some semblance of her powers, but she only found emptiness and weakness. She spoke without thinking in a voice that trembled, "N-no, sir."

"You hurt my feelings, girl," he said in a slurred voice, "Pulling away from me like that after everything I've done for you and your whore of a mother. All I wanted was a little show of affection! Now…now, I have to punish you, girl. Come here!"

Her father roughly grabbed her hair, and forced her down to the ground. Pam whimpered in pain as she was forced to her knees. She desperately searched for a way to access her powers, but there was nothing beyond a pale void within her. Her mother ran into the room to try to pry them apart, "Gerald, she's just a girl!" she screamed, "Leave her be!"

Her father let go of her and slapped her mother across the face once more. Her eyes widened as she realized exactly when she was. Her father slapped her across the face, and knocked her to the ground before moving closer to her mother. "Goddamnit, Lorie!" he roared as he bent down and began to beat her, "You think I like having to do this?! You think I like being a fucking laughing stock in this city?! You and that little bitch make me do this! It's your fault that I'm stuck here, and it's her fucking fault that I'm stuck at a desk! The least you two could do is make things worthwhile!"

Her mother sobbed and screamed as her father continued to beat her with closed fists. Pam closed her eyes to try to block out the memory she'd repressed for so long. This was the night her mother was killed, the night that she put an end to her father's late night visits, but not before losing the only person who'd loved her. "It's not because of us!" her mother screamed her last words, "It's because you can't go a day without touching the goddamn bottle! I told you when I was pregnant that I didn't expect you to stay!"

"I stayed because it was the right thing to do!" her father roared as he hit her again.

"Stop it!" Pam screamed, finally finding her voice and feeling her power surge out of her, "Stop it!"

Her father ignored her and wrapped his hands around her mother's throat. She couldn't watch this, not again. She had to do something, but her body remained locked in place. Pam could feel her powers flowing again, but she couldn't bring herself to move. All she could do was watch, once again, as her father strangled the life out of her beloved mother. There was nothing she could do, despite her overwhelming desire to intervene. In a matter of moments, her mother was gone yet again. Pam felt waves of anger and sorrow crash over her entire being, and she screamed in rage. The air around her bent, as it had so long ago, and she was hit with the consuming urge to rid the world of the man before her.

"What are you screaming about, girl?" her father asked as he stood up, "I'll give you something to scream for, girlie."

All at once, a wave of energy ripped out of Pam, and barreled its way through his chest. A hole appeared in his midsection, and he stumbled forward with his last breath. Pam panted as his body fell to the ground. The nightmare was over, but she'd been forced to relive it all the same. It wouldn't be long before the police showed up, and she was taken into the custody of the state. She wanted to cry, just as she had when she was a little girl, but she refused to. She sat down and brought her knees to her chest. This was too much for her. Why did it have to be this memory?

Her head snapped up when she felt a hand grab her ankle. "No," she whispered as she watched her father latch onto her and crawl closer towards her.

"What the hell is the matter with you, girl?!" he wheezed out, blood still pouring from his wound, "Not enough that your bitch mother wants to get hurt, now you want it too?!"

Fear gripped at Pam's mind, and she failed her legs and kicked at him. "Get away from me!" she shrieked, "You're dead, you're dead!"

"Can't kill a memory, you dumb little cunt," he said as he pulled himself to his feet and advanced on her.

Pam scurried across the floor and backed herself against the wall. This wasn't real, it couldn't be! This was how he died, she'd done it herself! "Stay back!" Pam screamed, putting her hands to her head as he continued to approach her.

"Poor little Pamela," Gerald teased as he lumbered closer, "Still scared of daddy. Maybe it's because you know, deep down, that I've always been right about you. You're nothing but a worthless piece of gutter trash like your mother!"

"Shut up," Pam whispered, trying to wake herself from her nightmare.

"She died because of you!" Gerald yelled, causing her to shudder in terror, "If you'd have just been a good girl and kept your mouth shut, she'd still be alive!"

"No!" Pam screamed, bolting to her feet and glaring at him, "She died trying to protect me from my rapist father! You beat her, abused me, and terrified me for years! Well, guess what, old man?! I'm not afraid of you anymore!"

The sting of his hand across her face felt all too real, and it sent her careening to the floor. Her body hit the ground with a thud, but she pushed herself back up. Gerald put his foot on her back to force her back down, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Daddy's still here, Pammy, and he's going to get what he wants."

"No!" Pam screamed, and a bright light enveloped the room.

"Pamela, Pamela!" another familiar and almost forgotten voice called out, "Pammy, wake up!"

Pam shot up, and held out her hand ready to fling a spell. She was sweating, but she wasn't on the ground anymore. She was in a bed, but it wasn't her and Beth's. She looked around and her jaw nearly fell when she saw a familiar redhead sitting beside her. Long crimson curls fell down around the face of a friend who'd been dead for years. "T-Tammy?" Pam asked in disbelief.

"The one and only, cutie," Tammy replied with a smile, "You were having another nightmare. Come on, we've got some time before the Goddess comes to get us, and I want to show you something."

What was going on? Was this another dream, a hallucination, or something else? Pam sat up and looked around. She was back in the castle, but more specifically, she was in the initiates' quarters. "I-I don't understand," she muttered, "Where is Beth?"

"Beth?" Tammy repeated, giving her a confused look, "We don't have a Beth in our sect, honey. Is that the slave girl that you've been cozying up to?"

Pam shook her head, "No-well, yes, but-" she fumbled as she tried to remember, but her mind felt hazy and cloudy, "Ugh, my head is killing me."

"Chin up, dear," Tammy said, stroking her hand to try to comfort her, "We've only got a few more weeks before we graduate to become full-fledged mages. Come on, I told you I'd show you how to help tend to a sub's mental state after an intense session. One of the girls below had a particularly rough night, and I believe she'll be the perfect candidate. Let's go before anyone sees us."

Tammy pulled Pam out of her Bed, and the two of them were off racing through the corridors. It felt familiar, but Pam had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There had been many late nights and early mornings where Tammy had stolen Pam away for a lesson in proper BDSM. Those were some of Pam's fondest memories from that time in her life, and after the death of her mother, they had been the first times she'd felt actual joy. Learning to utilize her abilities had been exhilarating, but there was always the fear of failing and being prosecuted by Goth. Tammy had been the light that had kept her going in tough times. They'd both seen the fates of failures, but despite that, Tammy mainted an air of positivity that had been rather infectious.

They moved with speed and guile through thr shadowy stone halls of Pam's old home. The smells of the old halls seemed too real, and the sounds of the fires in the torches crackling only added to the illusion that this wasn't just some fleeting memory. Even the feeling of Pam's bare feet padding along the cold stone, or the plush rugs, told her mind this wasn't some trick of the mind. Tammy led her through the halls, taking careful consideration to watch for any unwanted intrusions, and they eventually found their way to the circulae stairwell. Checking to make sure they were alone, the two of them descended down towards the holding cells for the slaves.

The door to the slave's quarters was the sake as any other within the castle, but it had a large cast-iron lock on it. Tammy held up her hand and whispered an incantation, "Aperta."

A flicker of light shot out of her palm, and the lock unlatched and fell to the ground. Tammy caught with deft hands, and turned back to shoot Pam a smile. Her friend had always shown an uncanny aptitude for charms and spells requiring acute pronunciation. Tammy pushed the door open, and the two of them slowly walked into the dark room. Cages were scattered around the large and expansive room. The occupants were men and women wbo had either made the mistake of crossing Goth, foolishly volunteered for their position, or initiates who failed the Goddess. There were some within the steel cages that had been abducted, but the one thing they all shared was a broken spirit. Even back then, the sight of those broken souls hurt her. She could practically taste the despair in the room.

"This way, Pammy," Tammy whispered, motioning for her to follow closely while they walked deeper into the room.

Pam kept close behind her friend as they navigated through the maze of cages and cells. They came to a small cell where a short young woman sat with her knees pulled to her chest and shivering. Tammy whispered the incantation once more, and stepped into the cell. The girl's eyes snapped up at them, and Pam felt her heart stop. Big blue eyes, short hair dyed pink, and curves that Pam was intimately familiar with. "Beth?" Pam whispered, and the girl withdrew further into herself.

"Pam, this is Miranda," Tammy corrected as she bent down to look at the young woman, "Miranda, sweetie, it's okay. We're not here to hurt you, little one, do you remember me?"

Miranda looked up at Tammy and whimpered, "Y-you're the nice lady from yesterday."

"Yes, dear, I told you I'd be back, remember?" Tammy asked, "This is Pamela, she's a friend as well. Come here, honey, let's have a look at you."

Miranda hesitated for a moment, but Tammy's warm demeanor won her over. Pam marveled as she watched Miranda approach. She looked identical to Beth, but Pam knew that couldn't be right. Bruises littered her body, and her left eye had a purple ring around it. Something about this felt all too familiar, and yet entirely different at the same time. Pam remembered this night, but not like this. There was something significant that she was missing, but the image of a broken Beth before her was too distracting. She wanted to wrap the little woman in a hug, kiss her, and assure her that things would be okay.

"There we are," Tammy said sweetly as Miranda got close and Tammy touched her cheek, "Let me have a look at you. Pam, get down here and let's see if you remember what I taught you."

"Please don't hurt me," Miranda whimpered as Pam knelt down.

Pam reached out of instinct, and touched her fingers to the girl's right ear. The spot just behind her right ear, and she began to gently scratch it. Miranda craned her neck, and leaned into Pam's touch just like Beth did. Her eyes fluttered for a second, and a small smile spread across her face. "Nobody is going to hurt you," Pam whispered, still slightly in shock, "You're safe with us. Come here, let me hold you, little one."

Pam repositioned herself, and pulled the small girl into her lap. There was no resistance from her, and Pam began to gently stroke the small of her back to relax her. She kissed the top of her head, and whispered soothing words in her ear. Miranda slowly began to relax. "You're a quick study," Tammy said, watching the pair of them, "She needs a bath, but I'm afraid we can't risk sneaking her out. The bruises she has, and the cuts on her back, need to soak in some warm water. One day, Pammy, one day we'll be able to help people like her. We have to, it's not her fault that she's been mistreated."

"Y-you're warm," Miranda muttered as she nuzzled Pam's neck.

"The way they're treated, it's barbaric," Tamny said with a sigh, "Miranda, if you can just hold on for a few more weeks, we'll get you somewhere safe."

"I want to go home," Miranda whimpered, breaking Pam's heart.

"I'm afraid that's not an option, little one," Pam said, running a hand through her hair, "But that doesnt mean you can't be happy here. Once we graduate, we'll come get you. You can stay with one of us, and we'll make sure you're taken care of."

"What is going on here?!" an angry and familiar voice roared, "What do you two think you're doing with that slave?!"

Pam's eyes went wide as her memories suddenly came back. No, not again. Miranda was ripped from her embrace by an unseen force, and the girl screamed for a second before she was rendered unconscious. Pam looked over to see Rebecca standing outside of the cell, her hand glowing and her eyes furious. "Goddess!" Tammy exclaimed, standing up and trying to explain, "We were just-"

"Initiates aren't permitted out of their quarters without direct authorization from myself, or a ranking member of my court!" Rebecca yelled, stomping her foot, "Further more, I find you showing sympathy for someone as lowly as this little whore! This woman stood between your Goddess and the man she loves! You should be breaking her down, but instead I find you trying to lift her spirits! This is the last straw, Tamara, I can see I've been far too lenient with you! You've even managed to sway one of your sisters into this disgusting practice!"

"Pamela is innocent!" Tammy yelled, before choosing to stand her ground, "You can't treat people like this! Let them serve, but they're human beings, not objects to be abused!"

Pam stood up, and tried to find the will to stop what was about to happen. This was the night that Tammy was taken from her. Rebecca roared before she could speak, "Silence! Everyone, and everything, in this world exists to serve me! You are a cancer, Tamara, an infection that is bleeding into your fellow sisters. I can see now that there is no other alternative than to cut you out like the tumor that you are. I was a fool to believe that someone with a heart such as yours could change. As for you, Pamela, I'm disappointed. Such vast potential compared the lowly urchin I discovered a mere month ago. What should I do with you?"

"Pamela is innocent!" Tammy yelled, moving between the two of them, "I'm the one that has been causing trouble, so leave her out of it!"

"Perhaps," Rebecca said, and Pam watched as something different happened as Rebecca turned toward her, "If I am to believe that she is truly innocent, then she will accompany me whilst we deal with your meddlesome attitude. Pamela, the choice is yours. You can join me, or you can join this cancerous little harlot. What will it be?"

This wasn't how it happened. Pam had been sent back to her quarters after a long and grueling lecture, but now she was being told to accompany Rebecca. She swallowed and her voice spoke without her realizing it, "I-I will come with you, Goddess. I exist only to serve as an instrument of your will, whatever that may be."

"Let's just see about that, shall we?" Rebecca said as she held out her hand and yelled an incantation at Tammy, "Ligare!"

Threads of rope rose up out of the ground, and they bound Tammy from her legs to her feet. Pam could only watch as her friend fell to the ground in the midst of a familiar binding spell that Rebecca had taught them their first week. "Leave her out of this!" Tammy screamed as Rebecca walked over and picked her up with one hand.

"I need to see where her loyalties lie, girl," Rebecca said as she threw Tammy over her shoulder and motioned for Pam to follow, "Come along, Pamela. Normally, I'd invite Aurora for this, but I believe you could do with some proper education on the treatment of those that defy me."

This wasn't right, this wasn't how it happened! Rebecca had taken Tammy away, and had eventually given her to Aurora. Why was this happening?! The room shifted and spun, and Pam suddenly found herself standing in the dungeons deep beneath the castle. Tammy was bound to a St. Andrew's Cross in the center of the room. Rebecca stood in front of her holding a blade in her hand, but the person that Pam saw wasn't the mentor she'd known. No, the woman in the room was some twisted version of Rebecca. A red mistress seemed to radiate from her body, her hair seemed to whip to and fro as if the wind had caught it, and a set of horns rose from the crown of her head. It was as though the demonic side that had lurked within Goth had revealed itself. The very image of her friend that she tried to repress and forget.

Pam stared at Tammy, and she felt sick to her stomach. Her skin was bruised in multiple places, parts of it had been peeled back, and her limbs had been warped and disfigured. Goth spoke in that haunting dual-toned voice that Pam still sometimes heard in her nightmares, "Do you still think those miserable vermin are worth saving, Tamara?"

Pam could only watch as her friend weakly held up her head to reply, "You're…a…monster…"

Goth let out a dark chuckle as she quickly swung the knife in her hand across Tammy's face. A fresh cut appeared, and blood began to trickle down. Goth brought the blade to her mouth, and she ran her tongue along the edge to taste it. She spit it at Tammy's face, and chuckled, "I detest the taste of weaklings. You think you know monsters, dear girl? I am the eternal flame, a beacon to those strong enough to seek me. You, Tamara, are the scum of the earth. Your pathetic mentality of mercy and weakness is a poison to the world that I will one day create! Only those that are brave enough to do what must be done can stand with me. Everyone else will either fall to their knees, or they will fall away into the abyss. I have no place for sympathizers to the unworthy in my kingdom!"

"Fuck…your kingdom," Tammy breathed before screaming as Goth lunged forward, plunged the knife into her shoulder, and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

"That insolent tongue will be the first thing we cut out," Goth sneered as she ripped the blade out and motioned for Pam to approach, "Pamela, the time has come for you to show me your devotion. Cut the tongue from this foul blasphemer!"

"What?!" Pam exclaimed, "Goddess, please, you can't ask me to do this!"

"I can, and I am, Pamela," Goth replied, turning her full demonic gaze on her, "Unless, of course, you'd like to join her."

"Don't…do it," Tammy whimpered, "You're better than this, Pammy."

Goth struck Tammy's face with the back of her hand and roared, "That's enough out of you! I am tired of hearing your miserable voice! Your screams will fill these halls, and they will be a symphony to this castle!"

Pam couldn't recall a time when she'd felt this scared. She hesitantly stepped forward, knowing there was no alternative. She took the blade from Goth, and stepped in front of her only friend. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she closed her eyes and grabbed Tammy's head.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held her friend in place. The last thing she heard Tammy say before she began screaming was, "I thought you were better than this, but you're no different than her…"

It shouldn't have been as easy as it was, but Pam's hand moved like a trained killer. The screams of her best friend rang out in her ears until she eventually blocked them out. Her hands, chest, and face were stained with the blood of Tammy when she finally pulled away. She held out Tammy's tongue as though it were a trophy for her Goddess. She felt hollow inside, empty even, as she stared at the ground. "A gift for you, my Goddess," she said quietly.

Goth threw her head back and cackled as she took the offered tongue and crushed it. Tammy was barely hanging on, but Goth stepped in front of her and mocked her, "See where her loyalties lie, dear girl?! There was no kinship between you two, only a desire prove herself! She is mine, and she will always be mine! Kill her, Pamela, slit her throat and be done with her once and for all."

Pam's mind screamed at her that this wasn't real, that it was some sort of illusion, but she couldn't remember anything else. With tears in her eyes, and a heavy heart, she did as she was told. She snuffed out the light was Tammy with her own hands, and she solidified her place at the feet of the mad Goddess. She heard Goth cackle once more, but she was barely aware of her surroundings anymore. She felt numb to the world, and utterly hopeless in the face of her Goddess. Was this who she was? A servant turned killer? Was this all she was meant to be? "You can't escape who you are, Pamela," she heard Goth whisper in her ear, "You'll kill everyone you hold dear eventually."

Pam looked up, but the room had changed once more. She wasn't in the dungeons anymore, but she knew the room all too well. The pool in the center of the room, swirling with the blood of scafrificed slaves, and the spires jutting out of it were hauntingly familiar. The Chamber of Blood, the place where she'd learned to cast blood magic. Still feeling empty, she faintly wondered how she'd gotten here. Nearly broken, she tried to get her bearings. Had she dreamed everything from before? Were her memories of Beth, Jake, and even Tammy just figments of her imagination? Things she created to justify the choices she'd made?

Her musings were interrupted by Goth once more, "Sometime today, Pamela. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No, Goddess," Pam replied quietly as she looked up, but her eyes went wide.

There, chained to the spire in the center of the pool, was Beth, or was it Miranda? She couldn't remember anymore. "You recognize her, yes?" Goth asked, and Pam looked over to see the demonic visage of her master smiling wickedly, "I selected her special just for you. I want you to free yourself from all those weak attachments that cur taught you. Drain her, use her essence, and show me that you are worthy to stand beside me, Pamela."

Pam looked down at her hand. It was clutching the sacrificial knife that they often used in these rituals, but she couldn't, could she? Pam waded into the blood, and stood before the terrified girl. Her big blue eyes were screaming for mercy, but it was her words that really shook Pam, "M-mistress…please, you promised to take care of me. Help me, please, I love you…"

That voice, that pleading tone. It was Beth's, there was no doubt about it. "What are you waiting for?!" Goth demanded, "End her miserable life, and prove to me that you are worth my time!"

The old feeling of longing to belong washed over her. Pam had been alone for so long, and Goth had given her purpose and a place. A voice in the back of her mind screamed at her, "Wake up, you miserable moron! None of this is real, you're being manipulated! Let me out, and let me save our Kitten!"

Pam tried to stop herself as she brought the knife to the frightened little woman's throat. "Please," she whimpered, "You're better than her."

"Don't listen to that filthy whore!" Goth screamed, stepping into the pool, "You are nothing without me! You were nothing when I found you, and I gave you everything! Face it, Pamela, you crave me!"

"Let me out!" the voice in her head screamed again.

Pam was frozen in place, torn between two sides of herself. "Kill her!" Goth demanded, "End her, and show me how much you love your Goddess!"

Pam's hand shook as she felt part of herself awaken deep within her. She felt a surge of energy as she stared into those sapphire pools full of fear. She threw the knife into the pool, and turned to face her old master. "No," she growled, and she felt all of her emotions burst forth at once, "I don't need you! I won't let you hurt anyone ever again!"

The air bent inward around her as her powers reawakened from deep within. The energy wave pushed Goth back, but she stood her ground all the same. Her body seemed to grow larger, and Pam was hit with the memory of the monster she'd eventually turned into. "You think you can hold a candle to me?!" Goth demanded, continuing to grow and mutate, "You belong at me feet, Pamela, and that I just where I'll put you! A decade as my insole should rectify your defiant tone!"

"No!" Pam screamed as her body began to glow, "You aren't real, I saw you die! I won't let you take me away from the people I care about, and I won't let you continue to influence me! I'm nothing like you, and I never will be!"

Pam put her hands together, and she let all of her pain, regret, anger, and fear fly from her in a single massive beam of energy. A pulsing blast of white energy raw emotion shot out of her, and it cut through Goth's chest. Her former Goddess fell down into the pool of blood with a splash, and it was then that Pam knew this was indeed an illusion. The Goddess she'd known would never have fallen from a single blast, no matter how powerful it may have been. The room began to shimmer and ripple as she lowered her hands. Wherever she was going next, she was determined to keep this moment with her. She had to find a way out, and she knew that she could find it if she kept this moment with her.

As the room turned back to a deep pitch black, Pam heard Goth speak one final time. Her words would stick with her, even as she finally woke, "You can play the hero all you want, Pamela, but I made you who you are. You will always be my creation, and you will always carry a piece of me within you. There is darkness within you, just as there was me, and one day…one day you will give into it. That day, you will make your Goddess proud, and you will finally become the woman you're destined to be…"

—------------------

Beth:

Beth awoke on the cold asphalt of one of Metropolis' many sidestreets. She felt like she'd been strangled, and her throat felt incredibly raw. She pushed herself up, and croaked out, "What the fuck? Ugh, I feel like I got run over by a truck."

She looked around the empty city street, and tried to guess where she was within Metropolis. It wasn't an area she recognized, and something felt incredibly off. It was night, but there was something in the air that gave her chills. There was an almost static charge in the air as she decided to explore. She couldn't recall the last time the city was this quiet, and there was something unnerving about that. There was an uneasy feeling that rolled around in the pit of her stomach as she pressed on. She furrowed her brow as a gust of wind rushed past her. Hadn't she been wearing her helmet? She could have swore that she was, and wasn't she inside only moments ago? Her head hurt as she tried to concentrate and remember, so she gave up trying to recall.

She heard someone scream off in the distance, and she quickly reached for her grappling gun. To her surprise, it was gone. She must have dropped it somewhere, or maybe she had mistakenly left it at home. Forgoing it, she checked to make sure she had her pistols and took off in the direction of the scream. If someone was in trouble, she had to help them. She dashed through the eerily empty streets of her city, and skidded to a stop outside of an alleyway. She could see a hooded figure standing over a man laying on the ground cowering. Even without her helmet and disguise, Beth held up her guns and yelled, "Don't move, dirt bag! Put your weapons down, and turn around slowly!"

"Please, I wasn't doing anything wrong!" the young man yelled up at the mystery person, "I don't know those people, I swear! I was trying to find my girlfriend, that's all!"

Beth waited for the hooded mystery assailant to put down their weapons, but they completely ignored her. She cocked the hammer on her pistol and gave one final warning, "Get away from him!"

"Guilty," she heard a distorted voice say as whoever it was pulled the trigger and snuffed out the young man's life.

Beth's eyes went wide as she watched whoever this was murder an innocent and scared kid. She growled as she opened fire on them. She was surprised at how agile they were, though. They twisted their chest as they spun around, ducked low to avoid her gunfire, and charged at her in a serpentine pattern. Beth tried to get a lead on them as they zigged and zagged closer to her, but they were in front of her before she could get a clear shot. Beth felt a knife against her exposed throat, but that wasn't what shocked her. Whoever this was, they were dressed almost identical to her as the Feral. She recognized her helmet hidden beneath a black hood, and whoever this was was the same height as her.

Shaking off her surprise, Beth knocked her opponent's arm away, and kicked at their chest. Whoever this person was, they clearly knew hee fighting style. They caught her boot with ease, and tried to drive their elbow down on her knee. Beth took two shots at their head, but they dodged by abandoning their attack and spinning backward out of the way. They returned fire with an arcing series of shots as they finished their spin. Beth cursed as she took off toward the sidewall of the alleyway, and she ran midway up it before kicking off and launching into a backflip. She dodged the bullets, but whoever this was had little intention of fighting her. They pulled out a familiar looking gun, and fired it up at one of the rooftops above. Beth emptied the remainder of the clip at them as they soared into the air, but they still managed to get away. However, she did manage to get them to drop one of their pistols before they disappeared.

Beth quickly ran over to grab the weapon, and inspect the dead boy. A clean shot right through his head. Whoever that was knew what they were doing. She shook her head as she reloaded and holstered her pistols. The one she'd picked up felt strangely familiar. Similar weight to her own, and the grips were the same ivory that Pam had replaced hers with. She spotted an engraving on the barrel that nearly made her drop the firearm. One that was all too familiar, and one that sent a shiver down her spine. She ran her hand along the metal to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. P.F.K. had been etched onto the metal, and Beth found herself in a state of utter disbelief.

"What is going on?" she asked aloud as she stared at the gun.

That person was masquerading as her alter ego, but this was her pistol. The same caliber, make, model, and even that personal touch Pam had given it! No one but the two of them knew about that little detail, so how had that person managed to replicate it? She pondered it as wandered out of the alleyway and back into the streets. She was lost in thought when a newspaper carried on the wind blew into her face. She pulled it away, and scanned the headline. Her confusion and sense of dread grew further as she read.

Feral Strikes Again: Body Count Now In Triple Digits!

Below the headline was a picture of her in full attire standing over the body of a young woman holding a camera. Two smaller pictures were just below of her aiming and firing at the photographer. Just behind her, blurred in the shots, was a tall woman that she swore was Pam. She skimmed through the article, and she was overcome with a strong sense of disbelief. The paper claimed that she was a former hero who'd turned on the city. The justice that she'd once doled out had turned to a killing spree of innocents out of the blue. People were terrified of her, but the last line was what truly struck her. The paper stated that her most recent and notable kill had been none other than entrepreneur Jake Blackridge. His body had been thrown from the top of Blackridge Tower, and The Feral had been seen fleeing the scene shortly thereafter.

Beth crumpled up the paper, and tossed it aside with a huff. "This has to be a joke," she said, trying to convince herself, "Jake is dead? No, it can't be. I would never…I'm going to find whoever this is, and I'll make them pay."