The girl from the delivery accident, as she pleaded for him to call her, or anything except her name, at the moment had no true identity. She claimed to be someone, know her entire history, but her DNA said something else. A name she had never heard came up in the screen, family she never met, an age that was younger, yet strangely older.
Zachary tried to reason with her, proving that the girl that came up in the results matched every single inch of her. But consciousness cannot be measured, she thought.
Her teary eyes gazed at the mirror, and a woman who she had never met was staring back, copying her very actions perfectly. This is not me, there has to be some trick on all mirrors, right? But deep down a chirpy voice recognized the figure crying behind the glass. That is me.
Both hands gripped on her hair, deafened by the thoughts and information that ran through her brain as if in a race. She squirmed, sweated, felt her blood pressure drop, eyes closing. And then, she opened them and a girl with beige skin and big eyes ogled solemnly to the side.
The room around her was consumed by a recollection of her brain, a memory, if you will.
Her brown eyes watched carefully the outlines of the trees, at least, the quick glimpses she saw since they were moving so fast. A warm smell of coffee recently brewed filled her nostrils, the sweet touch of cinnamon rolls lingered in the air and her taste buds, they had to be the best in the entire world.
She could almost feel that same taste in her tongue.
Her hand rested on the window, admiring the view. In that same position, she had fallen asleep. She couldn't remember the dream, though. Maybe it wasn't that important.
When her eyes reopened it was night.
There was a soft knock on the door but she didn't open it, someone she shared the compartment with did. It was a woman, she recalled. But her face was blurred out of her brain. Skipping unimportant parts, her daydream jumped towards the end.
Her hands shaking, trying to open the window. Legs kicking the unbreakable glass until, it finally gave in into her anxiety, shattering into small pieces, opening up a whole for her to jump but then-
there was a loud noise that brought brightness into her sight. She was blinded by the lights of the bathroom mirror, where the same almond eyes glared her way. The knock on the door repeated, startling her once again. She pulled away from the door and swung it open, tired of being clueless, craving for answers and solutions. There had to be a reason she remembered being someone else, that frightened girl on the train, instead of the name that left his lips.
"Robin, are you okay?" Scourge, as he had presented himself - such a stupid name-, questioned with a hint of worry in his eyes. He shook his head and started to apologize for calling her that name, but stopped himself when he saw her eyes lost focus.
"C'mon Robin, you piece of shit! Get your ass out of the stall!" She sat on the toilet, legs wrapped around her skinny arms, head between her knees. The thin walls made of cheap wood shook around her as those girls, who had been following her since the bell rang, kicked them from the stalls around it. The door bent as one of them pushed it, still yelling her stuff like: "are you putting on your fragrance? What was its name again? Piss and shit?", "suckin' something in there?".
The shaking had stopped but that only brought more worries, their focus had gone into a worst plan than bothering a poor girl who just wanted to enjoy a normal lunchtime, but found herself locked in a bathroom, instead. She began to think, since the pause had been so long, if they had actually left, finally using their minds, making a smart move.
Oh, how wrong had she been.
A ball of toilet paper drenched in, what she deeply hoped it was, water flew into the small stall and landed on her head with a disgusting, wet sound. Not shortly after, many more followed, landing all in different places, a few of them actually reaching her. Her mouth was glued shut, knowing better than to give them what they were looking for, tears.
She was in the middle of untangling a ball off her hair when the door swung open, slamming the ceramic walls. Angry steps, the heels of a professor, hit against the floor, echoing in the bib bathroom. "Stop what you're doing at once! What kind of behavior is this? Ladies must defend one another, not bully them! Get out before I am forced to send you to the principal's."
In her mind, she could picture those cruel and apathetic teenage girls walk with their heads down, ashamed to be caught by a teacher. Her imagination was pretty close to reality.
"Are you okay, Miss Artemisia?"
No. That's not her name-
"I'm fine, Mrs. Kay. Thank you," and then, she waited to hear the door shut, signaling that the restroom was all for herself. Slowly, she untangled herself from up the toilet and opened her cheap door, heading for the sinks to wash off the event. That's when this Robin Lee stared her back in the mirror, expressing all the emotions she felt right now.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw both booths open, two familiar faces walking out with an evil smirk. They charged towards her and there was nowhere to run, no one to call, nothing to do except accepting her faith.
Gasping as though she hadn't breathed in air in minutes, Robin -or was it Dianna- raised from the stretcher located in the middle of the room. Zachary turned away from the screen, filled with data about both names she had mentioned, terrible news building up in his chest. He approached her carefully, still keeping his distance as he checked if everything was back to normal in her vital signs.
He turned to her when her hand reached for the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer. At first, he thought she had gone mad and was going to kill him too, or try to, just like she had done with every woman in the truck. He was wrong because her actions were motivated by exhaustion and fear, there was no evident evil in the woman. "Tell me everything you have about them both. Robin and Dianna. I need to know."
"Okay," he nodded enthusiastically, looking down at her grip for her to let go, and she did. He rushed to the big screens, tactile ones, a total advance from the technology she remembered. An image of the girl from the train showed up as she sat on the stretcher, interested in his upcoming words. "Dianna Vasquez, born on April twenty-two, nineteen ninety to-"
"Stella and Howard, I remember."
"Unfortunately, her mother Stella died in a train accident when she was heading to Gotham City, in two thousand and eight. Police says it was another attack by the Joker, no details were released, only that the psychopath escaped Batman's grip," he paused, eyes still reading the information that continued. After a dry gulp, he spoke again, "Artemisia Robin Lee, born in December twenty-"
"Wait, what happened with Dianna? That's all on her?"
"No, there's something else but I don't think you'd wanna hear it," his blue eyes left the screen, regret passing through his brain, he shouldn't have offered to help her remember, to crash in his lair until she could recall her identity. What was her identity, anyway? Even he was confused now. She nodded for him to continue, nothing could be more frightening than not knowing who you are. "Dianna Vasquez died along with her mother as the train was about to reach the station when the bombs planted on each compartment door blew up."
Maybe she had been wrong. There was one thing terrifying than not remembering who you are, and that was finding out the person you believe to be is deceased. Tears began to well in her eyes, but then again it made sense, not making any at the same time. The tears soaked back into her globes, moisturizing them. "I know it sounds odd, but that is me. I can probably tell you everything that has happened in my entire life and it will match. I'm her."
"Yeah, how do I know you didn't stalk this random dead girl, learned all about her and- and-" this entire drama was confusing him, thing that never happened, he never ran out of words, he was known for always having a come back, always the perfect answer rolled out of his tongue. He could only remember one time he felt as though his brain stopped functioning. He could almost live that moment again, it was so painful. "Look, if this is some kind of trick-"
She frowned at his sudden change of mood, going from pleasured to help to annoyed and angry, with a tiny bit of sadness. "It's not! I remember the train. There was a gathering for all the students who went to my first school those years, I decided to go and my mother came along. Does it say that on the frickin' computer?"
He took another sweep of the article, but no information confirmed nor denied her words. Shoulders tensing, his head turned and shook. Going back to the screen, he decided to enter the photographs attached to this text, in hopes of any answer.
"I thought so. Does it say that I almost managed to escape? That I broke the goddamn window?"
His blue eyes read carefully the notes attached to the photos, lips parting in amazement. "No, but if you look at the pictures-" he called her over with his hand, and in seconds, she stood beside him, ready to hear anything to put her head to rest. "Each compartment is tagged with those found dead in there. Here: Dianna and Stella Vasquez. Your glass is the only one that broke in the explosions."
He swiped a few more pictures, showing her what he meant. And he was absolutely right, it was the only one. The rest were full of cracks, others shattered but still held together, but not hers, it was not. "That proves that I'm not lying. Do you believe me, now?"
There was a short silence, long enough for him to click off the article and turn to face her, making up his mind. "I'm considering doing so."
"Good enough. Now tell me about Robin."
Artemisia Lee was no special girl (neither was Dianna, as far as they knew). She had finished school five years ago, the best grades in the entire year, the perfect student every teacher in the world was hoping to have the luck to teach. Although, if you asked her about her experience, she wouldn't agree for it to be so happy.
She was bullied since high school started and all the girls her age began to get boyfriends, have their first kiss, their first time, get drunk, do drugs, break laws, live their best life. But Artemisia, or Robin, didn't see the fun in that and preferred to stay at home, drinking some non-alcoholic drink, staying up until late watching science fiction movies, reading books. She wasn't the only one in school who took that lifestyle. No, but she was the only one who also stayed away from all types of romance and that seemed to bother them.
After school, passing all the teenage drama, she started working with her father but things didn't work out, so she decided to take a break from that town, moving into Detroit -how she went from there to Washington D.c. was a mystery, but it would later benefit them to move into that city, help there.
She now worked as a barista in a local cafe, far away from the promising opportunity she had while working with her father, but things didn't work out with him. She took classes in a dance studio, ballet to be specific. And also, takes private classes of fencing, all paid with money from above, her parents'.
And that was pretty much it. No more information was updated on the internet.
"So, she lives in Detroit, huh?" The girl grinned from eye to eye, remembering visiting her aunt who lives there twice a year.
Zachary stared at her as his face grew in realization, a great plan had been created in his mind. "I don't wanna seem like a chicken but those guys we crossed earlier know pretty much all about me. If we stay here, they'll find us and all of this was for nothing. How about we go to Detroit, umm..."
"I'll have to stick with Robin, I guess."
"I'm Zachary, by the way."
Robin smiled at him, and surprisingly, he smiled back, all of that vigilante persona had left him for now. It was in that moment when they knew nothing about each other, or even themselves, that they felt they were an ideal duo. Not in a romantic way. And they were fine with that.
Three years later, two masked people had confronted a group of criminals, giving their everything in that fight. Their crime? Following tourists since they walked out of the airport, then entering their hotels and stealing from them. Many people had died in their hands, but their crimes would soon be over.
Scourge, a vigilante known for sweeping up the streets in another state, his reputation wasn't great after he fled, but he definitely made his name known in this city over the years. He was known for being fierce, careless, he wouldn't think twice before throwing a knife or pulling the trigger.
He wore an updated suit, with shades of black and red, equipped with almost any weapon that he could need during a fight, six different blades in separate spots for any case he needed (if he was kneeling down, he could reach for the one on his boot; if he was cornered, his hand could go down and snatch one from his tight; and in the case of being told to put his hands behind his head, there was a perfect spot to grab a blade and escape). His belt carried many bullets, more knives, an incredible small bo staff, and a lantern, yet it still wasn't heavy, he could move like it wasn't there.
His masked face turned to his partner as he reached for the gun in his belt, ready to shoot as she went behind them to distract them. Diva was the name she chose after Dianna Vasquez to honor her, fight in her name. Her suit was colored in black and orange, short sleeves and those stupid fingerless gloves Zach insisted on them both wearing them.
Her weapon, unlike Scourge's obsession with small blades he could toss around sneakily, was more elegant, more effective. It was a pair of swords, ones she had learned to control by hard sessions of fencing, as well as privately practicing in their bunker. But don't get her wrong, those were reserved for when the real superhero came out. Diva decided to stick with her fists and legs, finding them more efficient. At the same time, she carried one knife, a taser, two dozens of bullets and a gun.
She made it to the back of the group, feeling the real monster run through her veins, eager to explode and take over her mind and body. Now that was, what they both loved to call, Hellcat. As far as they knew, it was that magical being that brought Dianna back to life, giving her a new chance in someone else's body. It saw her potential to fulfill what it wanted, and in return, it helped her in missions.
Magic, huh, who would have thought it was real?
"Is she ready to come out?" Zachary yelled over the gunfire, taking several steps back in case their allay decided to put on an over the line show.
At those words, Diva allowed the fire to take over her, giving in into its power. Her brown eyes stared at the night sky as they were consumed by an orange glow. For her, there were no longer white stars popping out into the blue canvas that covered the city, it was only energy flowing down, reaching her skin, motivating her.
Her body clutched in the floor, hand tapping the fox emblem in her chest, it lit up with yellow lights, a visible aura lifted from her body. She looked up with a side smile, "oh, she's always ready to come out."
And with that, she charged towards them, her diabolic aura tracing behind her like the orange lightning traced after The Flash when he used his meta-human powers. Her hands grasped around both swords attached to the back of her suit, and she swung them around her hands before swooshing them towards one of the criminals. Shots started to fly everywhere, but she was protected by them, it was that threatening red around her that did.
Fifteen men? Easy peasy.
The first two went down with cuts on their throats, grunting as blood pumped out nonstop. She watched them fall like brown leaves from a tree, and that's all they meant, nothing else. One went down by an excellent shot of her sword, one that stabbed the woman in the center of her stomach. She dropped paralyzed.
With one blade left, she had more control, swinging once, slashing the stomach, a second time, reaching the chest, the third made it to the neck. For a second, Robin's sentiments were of strong disgust and sadness, making Hellcat stop, trying to gain control again. By the time she did, there were five people charging her way, aiming their guns in her direction.
She loaded the sword back into its place, giving up on the weapon. The triggers were pulled, bullets rapidly reaching her, faster than the sound of the shot. The tiny metal shells never touched her fragile skin, they turned towards their shooters. With a sharp breath out, each bullet sunk into their skulls, killing every single one in seconds.
Three more were down, all on Zachary's hands. She turned to the remaining three, the red aura around her burning like fire, growing bigger. One of them shot to her side, missing her by a terrible shot. All sound stopped existing in her ears as her aura turned into a figure, one with arms that extended until they wrapped around the three bodies, squeezing them with strength, the sounds of their bones cracking finally entering her ears.
Robin gasped, this is out of control. She tried to get back, to stop the monster. Her job was finished, they no longer needed her. Failed attempt after failed attempt, the girl grew anxious and devastated, trying to call for Zachary's help.
He weakly grunted in response, scaring her enough to gain control over the mind. She let out a cry as three bodies fell from above, the diabolical hands that held them no longer there. As routine after allowing this being take control, regret consumed her, the scene convinced her to never call for its help again, only that she had been saying so for three years and always called her.
Another weak grunt came from behind her. She swung over her heels to let out yet another cry. There laid Zachary, a splotch of blood on the left side of his chest, his hand trying to apply pressure but failing. She rushed over and tried to aid him, unzipping his jacket to find that the bullet had gone through his bulletproof vest, straight into his chest.
She knew then, there was nothing she could do. An unusual amount of blood pumped out of the small hole, it had damaged the heart or some important tissue around it. Either way, he would bleed out if she didn't do anything. "Zach, I've got to take you to a hospital."
"No," he choked out, his shaky hand leaving his wound and grabbing her arm with the little energy he had. "You can't. They'll know-"
She knew the risks, his identity would be revealed to the world, everyone around him would be in danger, even her. "I'm sorry, Zach. I have to-" his grip around her ceased, he didn't argue back nor moved. "Damn it, Zach."
With a power that grew from her ambition to save him, she managed to carry him all the way to their car, plopping him down in the backseat. She ran to the front seat, shut the door and jabbed the starting key into its hole, turning it and hearing the engine start. She allowed herself to loosen up those few seconds until the vehicle gently shook underneath her. At that moment, nothing mattered. She stepped on the gas and sped down the road.
The city around her, the lights, cars, people, it was all a blur. Her mind could only focus on the wheel and the orders dictated by the GPS, that's the only thing that mattered at the moment. That, and the dying man in the backseat. They were lucky they didn't get into an accident with her terrible driving, and reached the hospital safely, where she would leave the man in the entrance for the medics to take care of him. She would walk out and come back as Robin Lee, a friend who got a call telling her of the tragedy.