The wind howled in Becky's ears as the rain crashed down onto the smoldering remains of the once brilliant city below. All around her was noise, blinding noise, enveloping her and consuming her within its dizzying grasp. From the twisting grate of metal buildings to the sizzling lick of fire against burning wood she was surrounded by nothing but the mocking cries of her own defeat.
Clouds of choking smoke filled the formerly ebony blue sky, turning it gray and ashy as the flames continued to grow higher and brighter as they consumed what remained of Faircity. Becky could do nothing but cough, hacking up the blackened dust that had once belonged to the toppled buildings she was supposed to be protecting. However there was nothing she could do about them now. They were all gone.
The pungent smell of roasting corpses, seeping up from the pile of bodies beneath her was also enough to overcome her weary senses, causing the world to twirl and dance before her unfocused, watering eyes.
Her body throbbed with exhaustion and her concussed head churned, trying to remember how long she had been here, torturing herself over all of the lives she had let slip out of her small, fragile hands. There was nothing anymore. No one to save, no one to comfort, no one to fight... All she could do was kill herself slowly and painfully, a fate no more gruesome than that of the people lying mangled beneath her.
A searing pain shot up from her leg, but she refused to look down to inspect it. She knew it was broken, snapped into three equal pieces that refused to face the correct direction. The first time she had seen it she had puked, and even now the sight of it proved to be too much as her stomach swayed uneasily.
Becky made an attempt to scream, but the noise came out as an inhuman gurgle, drowned out by the pounding rain.
"Please stop!" She pleaded, each word ripping her throat raw.
There was no response.
Becky sobbed, wiping a tired arm across her forehead, noting how the warm blood trickled down her shredded arm, pooling in scabbed ridges and mixing in with the healing rain. Whoever had destroyed her home didn't even find her worthy enough to finish the job.
Suddenly a flash of light illuminated the sky, cutting through the dark smoke and rain to define an unnatural, and almost ghost-like presence through the black clouds. It spun around rapidly growing faster and faster, behaving with the same fiery spark as the lightning which also flickered rapidly through the sky. It began rearranging itself, molding the sky around it into a blinding amalgamation of celestial bodies. It whirred violently for a few horrifying moments before evolving into a perfectly cut sphere.
For a moment Becky shuddered, for when she looked upon the orb her body reeled from the extreme light.
A horrible anger began to settle in her gut as she looked upon the heavenly sphere with a guilty wrath. Her upper lip trembled with rage, and her eyes struggled to focus as the tears continued to pour down her tortured face. As she attempted to breathe, her lungs would only concede at taking small gasps rather than full inhales. Something within her drew back in horror as she immediately assumed the alien object to be the villain that had taken everything from her.
"There you are." She whispered, her voice but a low rage filled growl, raspy in nature yet firm and commanding. Her shoulders narrowed like a cat preparing to strike, shaking lightly as her eyes settled heavily on her prey hovering no more than a few feet away.
She darted forward, tearing into the pitch black clouds with an insatiable fury, a golden streak rippled through the sky behind her, its metallic glow shimmering and sparkling from the faint light of the fires churning below. Her eyes began to burn, slowly roasting in the face of the heavenly light she now recognized to be entirely mechanical. Her body screamed for her to stop, but her anger made her move faster, wanting desperately not to rip it apart, but to force it to finish its path of destruction.
A familiar jagged metal beam slammed harshly into her side, easily crushing into her ribs with a sickening crunch, and heaving her towards the smoldering black ground hundreds of feet below. For a few moments, she free-falled, feeling her consciousness slip away from her grasp before returning in full force along with every ounce of pain. Half of her body was now contorted, slammed inward and falling at speeds she could hardly comprehend. She shouldn't be alive, but what remained of her powers kept her in this incomprehensible state.
As she spiraled lifelessly to the ground her body flipped, giving her view of the blinding sphere above, racing through the smoke like a snake, two razor sharp claws reaching desperately to claim her body as a trophy of its victory.
Realizing she was out of time, Becky gave up. Allowing the needle-like arms to wrap around her, grating across her soft skin, turning everything below her neck into a warm, soupy prison of her own flesh and blood.
She screamed, reaching and scratching at the limbs, trying desperately to make them feel even an ounce of the pain she currently felt. However, they made no reaction, only moving in order to constrict around her tighter.
Full tears were now streaming down her face, unnoticeable in the pouring rain that burned against what remained of her skin. Somewhere behind her lightning crashed, creating a large roaring boom, signifying the fate that she was about to experience.
Becky closed her eyes, knowing that they would never see again. "Please..." She screamed, begging for her end. "Please just get it over with."
For a minute, the world was still and Becky winced, bracing herself as the machine pondered, thinking over her plea with mechanical precision. The arms that had been continuously growing tighter across her body finally stopped, frozen entirely in place. She held her breath.
Nothing.
She opened her eyes.
Still nothing.
A flash of despair surged within Becky as she looked around knowing escape was impossible. She was in so much pain that she didn't even want to try and recover. "Please just kill me." She thought, moving her head slightly.
As soon as she moved, the claw sprung back to life, recoiling itself in the air before hurling itself straight through her chest and coming out effortlessly on the other side.
She froze, looking sullenly at the long arm that protruded through her back and out her front. It was straight and precise in its strike, frozen in place and writhing in the seeping hole it had just created.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Becky opened her eyes, squabbling against the cool sheets of her bed in order to sit up against her headboard. Her breathing was rough and untamed, resolving only to strained gasps as she grabbed at her chest with a single shaking hand.
In the basket next to her Bob jolted awake, disturbed by her sudden movements.
Frantically she allowed her fingers to trace the undisturbed skin along her clavicle, feeling how it was smooth and undamaged compared to how it had been in her dream. The girl's movements slowed as she regained herself, filling her lungs deeply with the fresh air of her dark bedroom. "I'm okay..." she whispered to herself rocking back and forth against the mattress, "I'm okay..."
Bob climbed gently up the side of her bed, tugging softly at the sheets as he pulled himself towards the top. Nervously he waddled over to his friend examining her sullen expression. He chirped in concern.
Becky gave a slight smile before rubbing his soft head with her hand. "It was just a dream," she explained quietly, pushing back her covers. "I'm fine now."
However despite being awake, her mind was still spiraling, hastily trying to determine what to make of her troubling dream.
She though of an answer immediately.
She was tired of being Wordgirl.
The girl winced at the thought, knowing it to be nothing more than a vile, selfish emotion. However, her shame didn't make her feel any less bored with the life she had chosen to live.
For the past few months, she had barely used her powers for anything outside of fighting crime and meeting fans, a serious side-effect of her constant exhaustion and reluctance to do battle, but it was so much more enjoyable. There was a disconnect between her two halves, and one was constantly being trapped in the shadow of the other, but now she felt as if Becky could actually breathe instead of being shoved behind her seemingly more interesting alter ego. A heavy weight had been pressed harshly onto the girl's shoulders the day she had decided to become Wordgirl, and despite taking a step back it seemed to be growing even heavier.
Slowly the girl slid out of bed, taking a moment to stretch her long arms up towards the ceiling with athletic precision. She then leaned forward, folding her body downward until she could easily touch her toes.
The shag carpet was soft and comforting against her shivering feet and she allowed herself to stand heavily, releasing some of the stagnant tension frozen throughout the rest of her body.
Bob looked at her oddly.
She yawned, lifting her body back into a standing position so that she could slouch comfortably. Her muscles ached from over exertion, and she winced as she felt the familiar stinging pain run down her arms and legs.
The girl was oddly strong for her age due to her "hobby", and she admired the muscles that trailed across her limbs. Rippling biceps shot out from her thin arms, and her gaudy abs were hidden by baggy pajamas, a clever disguise to hide her chiseled features. This was part of the reason she wore so many sweaters. They allowed her secret identity to remain secret and not arouse suspicion from her mostly frail peers.
Sighing, she walked over to her closet, a large wooden box trimmed with bright white accents. The handles were painted gold, and slightly chipped from her constant use of them. The left one also hung partially broken, an accident from years ago when she had not yet realized how to control her abilities. Gently she grabbed the right one.
Inside were rows of neatly folded sweaters, each perfectly boarded and placed in color order, most being some shade of light green as that was her favorite color. It was red's complete opposite and yet another clever deterrent from suspicion.
Carefully she picked out her favorite top from the bunch. It was soft against her calloused hands, and worn so much that the coarse fabric no longer caused irritation against her skin. Skillfully, she pulled the cloth over her skin, getting dressed rapidly even without the assistance of her powers.
Bob chirped, leaping up onto her desk, being careful not to touch any of her fragile figurines. With a single finger he pointed gravely at the girl's alarm clock which oddly enough hadn't yet rang. 7:15 A.M. She was running late.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Beeping. That's all Tobey heard whilst waking up to the harsh and unforgiving sound as the alarm clock blared out beside him.
He rubbed his eyes, making an attempt to rid himself of his early morning fatigue before standing and walking over to open his curtains.
"Good morning, Tobey..." He whispered to himself glumly, moving aside the barriers to allow a flood of light into the room. It danced across the walls creating small, playful shadows that hid behind many of the objects scattered about his room. He had never been one to enjoy the light, but he had always admired the beauty and practicality of it. He couldn't work in a dark room, or draw, or do anything really, but it was comfortable and he always thought better in it despite his mother's dissatisfaction on the matter.
He suddenly frowned, shaking his head. Merely thinking about his mother made him uncomfortable and he quickly pushed her from his thoughts, opting instead to pursue getting ready for school.
Being scrawny had never once bothered the boy. He knew that he wasn't athletic, and had no interest in working to become such except during the few moments where his weaknesses were rudely pointed out. His skin was ghostly white, complimented nicely by his thick blond hair which were both often neglected by sunlight. He rarely went outside and his appearance definitely reflected that.
Readily the boy got dressed, pulling his neat sweater down comfortably over his dressy collared shirt, brushing it off gently to make sure it was layered flat against his thin torso. The fabric was thick and warm against him, clinging tightly to his meek form. He embraced the feeling and went on to clip his bow tie neatly against his neck. After running a hand through his hair, he determined his appearance was in fact up to his usually high standards, and moved over to his drawing board, ready for the school day.
Tobey's desk was a large slanted wooden piece, fitted with a small ledge that held copious amounts of both blueprints and amusing sketches. He smiled, sitting down in the single chair that sat before it.
Tobey had always been considerably decent at drawing, and had originally picked it up as a way of creating more elaborate blueprints. However upon realizing that he had considerable talent in the field he began branching out and drawing purely for the fun of it.
Proudly he sat back to admire some of his artwork. Most had been done on small slips of paper he had torn off of his homework or the notecards he had stashed in his backpack. Some were colored, and some were done only in sketchy pencil. As he sifted through the stack, a single note card fell into his lap and he paused momentarily to look at it.
The lines had become dull and had faded with time, giving the piece an aged look. At one point it had been scribbled lovingly with color, showing tedious amounts of attention to detail in every aspect of the small caricatures. One of the figures depicted him, a dorky looking boy being flown around in the arms of the only person he had ever found particularly interesting, Wordgirl.
He blushed, not remembering exactly when he had drawn this. His art style had greatly improved since the making of it and he felt both overjoyed and embarrassed by the note card.
Suddenly his attention was drawn away by the metallic jiggling of his loose door handle. His breath hitched and his heart began to beat faster as he looked over, shoving the card into his back pocket. Subconsciously he made a note to put it away later.
A wave of cool air washed through the room as the door swung open, dinging the wall and revealing his mother standing in the hall. She looked him up and down suspiciously, regarding him carefully.
He gulped, looking down as she judged his presence. It had been a long time since she hadn't looked at him like he was up to something. Granted, he was normally scheming, but it still hurt when she stared at him like he could go wild at any second.
"Good, you're up." She frowned, now looking around his room, inspecting it for anything she deemed unsatisfactory.
"Yes, Mother." He whimpered nervously, still refusing to look up at her.
She tilted her head. "Breakfast is ready."
Tobey nodded curtly. "Thank you, Mother"
He watched patiently as his mother returned to the hall, pressing his door open with a single firm hand. She waited observantly for him to stand and follow and once he did she followed him closely, calculating and judging every move he made.
The McAlister house was much like how the family dressed, quaint and tidy. The walls and carpet were a sparkling white, unknown to any type of stains or dust that might dull its pristine condition, in the living room a morning news station played softly on the TV, its noise barely noticeable over the sound of their washing machine, chugging along loudly from a broom closet. The dining room was also entirely clean, connected to the living room by a missing wall; it shared most of the same features, minus the carpeting which was replaced by a sandy looking wood. A single long table surrounded by equally fancy chairs stretched across the outcrop parallel to the front window, a large bouquet of daffodils sat in its center.
Tobey clenched and unclenched his fists, pulling out a chair nervously at the end closest to him. He felt as if he was in a standoff, ready to die. His breakfast had already been placed at the spot, but he refused to eat until his mother also sat down.
He knew that she loved and cared for him, but recently that love had been overcome with other, less favorable, emotions. Normally, he didn't put much thought into what others thought of him, but it was hard to ignore the way she expressed her distaste for him.
Tobey held his breath before spooning a bite of cereal into his mouth. The taste was indescribable, but he continued to chew as across the table his mother was eating emotionlessly. The silence was deafening, and for once in his life he enjoyed the soft sounds of the TV coming from the living room, a distraction from the terrible arrangement.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Becky reached out an arm towards her bedside table, allowing Bob to climb effortlessly onto her shoulder, her arm only buckling slightly due to her weary muscles.
He squeaked, troubled by her sudden onset of exhaustion but she once again reaffirmed that she was alright, opting to grab her backpack and go downstairs instead of talking about the subject anymore.
As the girl walked down the steps that led out into her living room they creaked and groaned beneath her, alerting her entire family of her very late presence.
"Morning, Becky!" Mrs. Botsford called, moving around the kitchen in an attempt to finish putting together breakfast. She was currently washing a large bowl with what looked to be pancake batter all over the sides.
"Morning, Mom." She replied, stepping into the busy dining room.
The house smelled of fresh food, specifically bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Tj was already happily munching along at the kitchen table, and Becky pulled up her own chair next to him.
"Someone's late." He smirked, taking a bite of pancake.
The girl rolled her eyes, allowing Bob to climb down her arm and onto the wooden chair beside her.
Their mother giggled, walking over to set a warm plate in front of Becky. She tussled her hair affectionately.
"Thank you!" The girl lauded with her best attempt at a smile.
"Well breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" Mrs. Botsford exclaimed, going back to clean the kitchen.
"Hey, Mom," Tj called, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.
"Don't talk with your mouth full!"
The boy quickly finished chewing and swallowed his breakfast. "My friend asked if I could come over this weekend."
"Awesome! Just ask his mom to call me first,"
"I thought we were going somewhere this weekend though..." Becky frowned, looking up at her mother.
"We can reschedule!"
"Yeah, Becky," Tj mocked. "Don't be jealous that my friends actually want to hang out with me."
"Hey! My friends always want to hang out with me too," she argued, earning a scowl from her brother.
"Settle down, kids!"
"But aren't those your friends out there leaving you?" Tj asked suddenly, pointing out the front window.
Becky, surprised and a little annoyed at the interruption, moved to look, and sure enough Violet and Scoops were holding hands, walking past her house without waiting up.
A wave of confusion washed over her, and she quickly shoveled the rest of her breakfast into her mouth. Why weren't they waiting for her?
"Love you Mom. Bye Bob." She called, giving her mom a quick hug before running out the door.
Bob chirped, annoyed wondering where his own hug was.
On the sidewalk in front of her she could see her two friends, Violet and Scoops, walking to school together. She frowned.
Ever since the couple had started dating, they had begun excluding her from most of the things they used to do as a trio. Becky sighed, it annoyed her to no end how they constantly held hands and laughed at inside jokes that she had made. Now they only ever talked when they needed something or had gotten momentarily bored by the other. It was an awful predicament, and it made her feel worse about them being the only ones to know about her secret identity. She had trusted them with a part of herself that no one knew about, and they had tossed it aside carelessly, only bringing it up when it held convenience. She would be lying if she said that her relationship with the two hadn't diminished as they grew closer. Violet used to be her best friend, and maybe she still was, but Becky felt nothing but exhaustion when she thought about talking with either of them. Her former crush and her best friend getting together was still a wound that hadn't quite healed. Quickly she ran to catch up with them.
"Hey guys..."
"Oh hi!" Violet asked, finally noticing her presence.
Scoops made finger guns.
"How are you today?"
"I'm fine..." Becky replied snidely, exhaling all the air from her lungs.
"That's good," her friend smiled, oblivious to her annoyance.
"I guess..."
"I was just asking Violet where you were!" Scoops laughed, nudging his girlfriend affectionately.
Becky frowned, biting her tongue. Every second that Becky had to watch the two cuddle as they strode down the empty sidewalk caused her to grow more and more annoyed. "I was late coming downstairs."
"Well, it's a good think you saw us! We were just going to keep walking."
Becky felt hurt. She always waited on them in the morning, so why wouldn't they treat her with the same kindness? "Actually, I was going to walk ahead..." She muttered, picking up her pace. She didn't even feel like trying to make up an excuse.
"Oh- um okay!" Violet beamed, completely unaffected. "We will see you in class then!"
Becky didn't reply, she just continued to walk away at a rapid pace, scowling. She sighed, knowing that her anger stemmed from jealousy. Maybe she would get used to third wheeling one day, but at the moment it made her feel awful.
After she could no longer see the couple behind her she stopped to take a breather next to an alley. "I need to calm down." She whispered to herself, acknowledging her vile feelings on the matter.
The fresh morning air was blowing coolly through the passage, creating a chilly breeze. Pipes snaked their way across the large brick walls of adjacent buildings, and assorted trash littered the ground. In a few patches, weeds were attempting to grow through cracks in the rocky concrete, and she tried to focus on the sights around her instead of her feelings. Despite the busy road beside her, the alley was relatively silent.
But then she heard a yelp.
Becky looked around wildly, slightly annoyed. It was coming from deeper down the passage and she could see that the alley branched off into multiple lengths of unused pavement, someone was down one of them. "Hello?" She asked, walking forward cautiously. As she grew closer, she could hear the sounds of a fight, which immediately caused her hero instincts to take over.
Stealthily she rounded the nearest corner, taking notice of two boys. One was standing, while the other was lying tattered on the ground, dirt covering his face and nice clothes.
"What's going on?!" She demanded, causing the bully to twirl around.
"It's none of your business," The older boy growled, his voice gruff and hinged with a darkness that made the girl shiver, "-get out of here."
Becky eyed them closely, taking in the situation with trained confidence. She had no reason to be afraid.
"I said get out of here," He repeated, moving forward so that he could tower over her. He acted surprised when she didn't cower away from his threat.
"You know..." she taunted, looking up dangerously into his eyes. "Bullying kids isn't very affable."
"Does it look like I care?"
The girl smiled as he stepped closer grabbing her turtleneck collar. "You look like you're having a stroke."
"You're just asking to get hurt, aren't you?" He hissed, taking the insult heavily.
"Stop it!" The younger boy cried from behind, standing up on trembling feet. "Leave her alone!"
The older boy didn't respond, he only kicked aside the younger boy he had called Ted who fell down easily. Immediately Becky took action, grabbing onto the bully's wrist and using his own momentum to flip him through the air.
After fighting so many super villains, this was child's play.
She stepped aside cruelly, whirling to face the boy who lay defeated on the pavement. "Never pick on anyone ever again," She hissed, looking down at his body with chauvinistic derision.
He scrambled to stand, before nodding vigorously to her demand. "I'm- I'm sorry." He apologized sprinting away and never looking back.
She chuckled, beginning to walk away herself. However, a voice behind her caused her to stop.
"How did you do that?" Ted whispered in awe, staring at her in shock.
"I... uh..." She thought for a moment. "I take karate?"
"Wow..." He breathed, "That was so COOL!"
"He shouldn't bother you anymore... I should get going-"
"You're a lot like Wordgirl." He suddenly grinned, bouncing up to her side.
"Oh, uh um... no..." Becky frowned, shaking her head quickly. "She just inspires me." The lie slipped easily off of her tongue.
"Really?! Wordgirl inspires me too!"
"Does she now?" Becky asked awkwardly. Hearing the boy talk about her made her feel better and still at the same time.
"Yeah!" He squeaked, looking wildly throughout the alley as they walked back toward the street. "How she beats people up and can do anything she wants!!"
"She can't do everything she wants..."
"And how she can destroy anything with just a single touch!"
"That's an exaggeration..."
"She's absolutely... perfect!" The boy giggled, looking towards her with childlike wonder. "I want to be just like her."
Becky froze, suddenly feeling even worse than before. This was getting weird.
"Don't you like Wordgirl because she's smart and always saves the day?" She prompted.
"Maybeeeeee"
"Destroying things and beating people up aren't good things to do though..."
"But Wordgirl is a hero!"
Becky bit her tongue, "Well, yes but..."
"Wordgirl can't do bad things!!" Ted giggled, acting like what she had said was stupid.
A sinking feeling was settling in the girl's gut. Was this really what her fans thought about her? She wasn't perfect, but according to Ted she was an idol, flawless in every way.
"Wordgirl can still do bad things... she isn't perfect..."
"But she's Wordgirl!" He scoffed, backing away towards the exit of the alleyway. "She's the hero." He repeated.
All of the questionable things Becky had done as Wordgirl flashed in front of her mind. She tried her best to be a good person, but in reality, she was just as imperfect as a regular human, and she couldn't make the best decisions all the time. That would be impossible. "Have I been too lenient on myself?" Becky thought to herself. "Am I supposed to act perfect?"
The girl watched as Ted pranced along the pavement.
Was she unintentionally inspiring her fans to indulge in loving violence and destruction because that's the way she fought off bad guys? Was she training future villains? The girl's heart raced.
"Do you need me to walk you home or anything?" She asked nervously, trying her best at being the ideal hero the boy needed. She felt his eyes scanning over her, judging her.
"I'm okay," He smiled joyfully. "That bully won't bother me anymore since you beat him up for me!"
"Violence is never the answer." Becky corrected, feeling completely unnatural and awkward.
Ted shrugged, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I have to get to school now, thank you for helping me."
"Bye!" Becky sighed, suddenly feeling tired. Her head ached and she quietly leaned against the rough brick wall, sucking in a deep, long breath as she stood, recognizing that her view of being Wordgirl had eerily changed for the worse.