'Fragmented'

Part Five

 I will never get used to these occurrences. The fissures of our dimension opened like a hungry baby bird. The loud cracks of leviathan sized structures busted at the seams.  Then a wave of Cthulu like creatures wriggled from the maw and followed the screaming populace.

 "Voss! Grab my hand!" I yelled out as my glittering fingers reached for his own. He wasn't paying me any mind.

 "VOSS!" I yelled once more, not ready to give up yet. I saw the thunderstruck look on his face. "Decora.....look...." A taloned digit pointed to the north.

 It was a bridge made of meat, bone, and organs. I couldn't figure out what it was at that moment....until I heard a chorus of high pitched wails.

 The crimson bridge was writhing with the mutilated and dismembered bodies of human beings. Some were still alive.

 If that wasn't shocking enough, the bodies began morphing into bold, bright colored shapes. The dying mass was becoming a cartoon.

 The one responsible was a heavyset man with a dusty colored beard. He lifted up his glowing paintbrush. "I did it for him! This is my tribute!" He bellowed with zealous fervor. He beamed proudly, the madness in his eyes shone brightly through his oversized glasses. "I am Illustrator! His champion! I will lead them all to his almighty throne!"

 My phone rang. The Caller I.D. said "Restricted". "Hello?" I awaited the voice on the other end. "Agent Decora. Do not engage him! You and Agent Voss need to leave your location now! He's one of Communion's men! You two are NOT equipped to deal with him!"

 Voss leaned into the phone. "So you're telling us to leave and let innocent people be killed?" I can tell my partner was seething with blind fury. "Agent Voss..You need to stand down. The higher ups are breathing down my neck. You two will be killed if you engage him. He's got a weapon that can cancel out your powers."
Gloria's warning shot an arrow of fear through my entire being.

 The cellphone went silent as a vibration ran through the street. Lights exploded, cars crashed into now darkened buildings, and machines went still without an ounce of electricity going through their circuits.

 I sucked in a sharp breath and pulled out my multicolored pen. Voss's thin eyebrows furrowed. "Decora..what the hell are you doing?" I placed the tip of the pen onto a broken window. The outline popped a chunk from it's surface. Then melted with fiery pain onto my wrist. My iridescent shield. "Let's go!" I wasted no time in grabbing Voss's upper arm.

 I looked up at the steel stained sky. A fleet of Apache helicopters made their descent into the perilous zone from which we came. I caught a glimpse of a seasoned Neutralizer in the aircraft's window. Richard "Caliber" Warren, The Balance Agency's Weapon's Expert and Combat Officer. It seemed like he knew I was there, and then shot me a disapproving glare.

 "Was the military asshole on that thing?" Voss asked with a daffy simper. His black clawed index finger pointed to the flying artillery above us.

 "That military asshole is my father." I said flatly to a now surprised Voss. "He's your DAD?!" His gravelly voice was incredulous.

 "I don't tell a lot of people. He was in and out of my life due to his work. He insists on me calling him "sir" and Officer Warren." I began walking ahead of him. "I didn't even know he was a Neutralizer until he picked me up from a group home."

 Behind me, over the gigantic mountain of debris was the symphony of high powered weaponry and shouts of uniformed specialists in battle.

 "What happened to your mom?" I hated the way Voss pried into my old life. With an audible hiss, I turn my head sharply. "She fuckin' died on the first event at the factory she worked at!" I faced forward so I could keep from showing my raw emotion to him.

 Voss let out an unhappy huff. "Let's contact our transport." I know we will have an argument later. I'm so goddamned tired. To avoid any more spent energy, I whisper an apology. With the influx of Alter Egos aiding in the destruction of our reality, I can't afford a fight with my boyfriend. "Sorry."

  We traveled to an unassuming auto shop in complete silence. The ride back to my apartment was awkward and strained. The driver tried to chat with us but failed at his effort.

 Our bedtime was as pleasurable as a dirty diaper. Quiet and tense. The absence of sleep was apparent. I did end up falling out. But woke up to an empty bed and a badly scrawled note on his pillow.

 ["Melissa,
     Taking a few days to straighten out my shit.-Voss."] I dropped the note as I rose from our bed. "Damn it." I muttered as I toddled to the kitchen.

 I never made it to the kitchen. Why? Because I felt a pinch, then slipped into unconsciousness.

(To be continued)