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Vengeance is His Prologue (Unedited)
🕑 Added 2024-01-27 00:59:16 +0000 UTCVengeance is His
By Bubbajack
Co-Authors/Editors: Icysnowsage, First Hassan/Darklord331
Special Consultant: Heliosion
Obligatory First Chapter Disclaimer: We DO NOT own the characters that come from the following franchises that will be showing up in this series: Akame ga Kill, Black Clover, Chivalry of a Failed Knight, Fairy Tail, Fire Force, Shakugan no Shana, UQ Holder, and of course Worm.
Ch. 0.0: Prologue.
Taylor Hebert woke up with a serious case of bedhead. The sun was hardly up yet, the sky hardly lit with the twilight gray light of dawn. Quickly and quietly getting dressed in gray sweatpants and a hoodie along with a pair of black sneakers, she crept out of the house, and began her morning run. As her muscles strained, her lungs burned, her mind raced with what she’d learned on Parahumans Online last night. That somehow Ashbeast, the terror of Africa, the cradle of civilization, had been stopped. The cause and reason still remained unknown, which meant, naturally, that everyone was theorizing about the cause. ‘What or who could’ve put a stop to Ashbeast of all things? One of the Triumvirate maybe?’ Taylor shook her head discarding the idea. If they could’ve done that, they likely would have long ago. ‘But if not them then what… or who?’
From videos posted online came camera footage of a comet crashing down into Ashbeast’s area of effect minutes before his explosions ceased altogether… and Ashbeast himself was nowhere to be found. The people of Africa regardless of nation or tribe were cheering the disappearance of the walking S class threat that was Ashbeast and promised that whomever got rid of him had their sincerest eternal gratitude. Some on PHO assumed this person, whomever they were might’ve come out to claim credit for the act and all the praise and glory but it's been more than a day now and no one has done any such thing.
‘Whoever this person is, they must be some kind of Brute to survive all of Ashbeast’s explosions,’ Taylor decided as she ran across the neutral zone of Brockton Bay, which acted as a buffer to all the gangs. The Azn Bad Boys an all asian gang, The Empire 88 a neo-nazi group, the Archer Bridge Merchants who were the drug pushers, Talyor shivered drugs felt like a blackhole that would consume her if she tried them, and then there were rumors on the net of this Coil person who controlled downtown, and an up and coming group called the Undersiders who did petty crime. Taylors gaze flickered out across the Bay, to Protectorate Headquarters, the domelike forcefield that covered it giving it a fishbowl like appearance. Even from here the spires stood out in sharp relief, and though it should’ve stood out as a shining beacon of hope, to most Brocktonites the PRT was just another gang. A government funded one, but another gang nonetheless. For Taylor though, they were something she hoped to aspire too. She planned to be a hero after all.
Giving her head a shake she kept her head on a swivel as she kept her mind clear, ‘How can I call myself a hero if I can’t find one missing person?’ Taylor thought to herself.
The missing person in question was one of her classmates. Someone she had, up until recently, always considered a bit of a creep. That is, until she had a rare conversation with her dad. Her father Danny Hebert had been a broken man since her mother died in a car crash three years prior. He went to work, bathed and shaved to look respectable, and ate but he completely forgot about her for the most part… till around six months ago when he called her downstairs and had a talk with her. She remembered it like it was yesterday. It was burned into her mind.
“Taylor, can you come down here for a minute!” Danny called out to his daughter.
“Yes dad?” She was surprised, she couldn’t remember the last time they talked, not since she’d gotten out of the hospital… not since the locker. But they didn’t talk about that, they didn’t talk about anything. Not since mom died.
“Taylor, can you come sit down? I… need to talk to you about something, I… need to ask you for a favor,” Danny began awkwardly even as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
Sitting down in front of him on their couch, Taylor asked, “Is everything okay? You don’t look too good. What favor did you need?”
Raising a hand, Danny said, “No, I’ll be alright. Besides, I really need to say this. Last night, I lost one of my workers in a turf dispute with the Merchants. His name was Jack Veder. I believe you go to school with his son, Greg?”
“Greg Veder, yeah he’s a little creepy, but not a bad person,” Taylor said honestly. “I’m sorry to hear his dad passed,” she replied. “Why?”
Danny sent his daughter a pointed look, “Taylor, the reason Greg was so off was… well he’s autistic.”
Taylor sat ramrod straight, “Wait what?!”
“Yeah… He was on the spectrum. High Functioning Jack said. Point is, the favor I’m trying to ask is if you see him around, bring him to the house alright?”
That confused her, “The house? Why?”
Danny sighed, “Earlier this week, Jack became a single father. His wife Jessica died Monday morning in the crossfire between the Empire and the Wards. Clockblocker froze himself to avoid getting slashed to pieces by Stormtiger but he turned into a flying missile and… Jessica didn’t manage to get out of the way in time from where she was hiding in a nearby restaurant. Clockblocker went right through the storefront window… and her.”
“Good God!” Taylor said, covering her mouth in shock. It took a moment before she could ask, “Wait, who's looking after Greg now?”
Danny rubbed at his eyes, “He’s gone missing, no one’s seen him since his father’s funeral. Someone was supposed to pick him up and take him to his godparents but they never arrived and he wandered off. Now, no one has any idea where he is. So, just keep an eye out for him alright Little Owl?”
Taylor nodded seriously. “Okay dad, if I see him, I’ll drag him back here or the DWU if I have to.”
“Thanks kiddo… but don’t frighten him. He might be skittish. I’ve talked to him a few times. He's a good kid though he talks like a robot.”
That was six months ago now. Ever since that day, whenever Taylor went out on her run, she’d kept an eye out for Greg, hoping she’d randomly bump into him by chance. Partly because she felt guilty for thinking he was a creep like everyone else in school without getting to know him. Another part of her wanted finding him to be her first act as a Hero. Her power wasn’t all that great, or even useful really, in her opinion. All she could do was control bugs within about a three block radius. But that was a lot of bugs. So, if nothing else, she could cover a lot of ground… or so she thought. Even after six months of searching, she hadn’t found him yet. ‘Then again, I stick to a safe pattern away from the gang areas, Greg could be anywhere in any territory in the city. If I want to find him, I really need to expand my search area exponentially.’
So thinking, she turned for home, intent on getting a shower and a bite to eat before school. Not even the thought of the Trio and their bullying was getting to her much these days. Someone was in potential danger and she might be able to find him. She had a job to do once she found him. Alive and whole because she flat out refused to believe anything less… she had an apology to make.
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Amy Dallon was tired. This was nothing new for her though. She usually ran on five or less hours of sleep, and made up the rest by drinking copious amounts of coffee with a small anthill worth of sugar, and sheer willpower to keep herself going. She was the best healer on the East Coast of the United States, her inability or rather unwillingness to do brains notwithstanding. She was the Panacea of New Wave, the maskless superhero group… and she hated it. Not being a part of New Wave because, sans Carol her foster mother, she loved her family, her sister Victoria especially. No she hated having to be the premiere healer in Brockton Bay. It was a gift, but also a curse to be so good at what she did. She could do in seconds what doctors, machines, hours, and massive medical bills took days, weeks or even months to cure. So she spent nearly every waking moment at Brockton General Hospital. It was fine at first, but after some time, she had begun to hate the happy, relieved looks on her patients' faces. Why did they get relief while she continued to suffer? Where was her peace? Not at home, not under Carol. Don’t do this Amy, don’t do that Amy, be better Amy. Think of New Wave’s reputation Amy. Bah! She was sick of it. The only bright spot in her dull life of drudgery was her sister Victoria. She was just… Perfect.
She never berated her, saying she never did enough. Or said she never thought about New Wave’s reputation, or anything like that. She was kind, loving and accepting…
Also not into women, much to Amy’s eternal chagrin. Yes, Amy Dallon was in love with her adoptive sister, but that in and of itself was a taboo amongst taboos… not that anyone cared. No one cared about her. ‘Well there was one other person, blonde, blue eyes, quiet. A boy unfortunately. He was Nurse Veder’s son…’ That caused her to become morose. Nurse Veder is… was a good person. She didn’t deserve to die just because Stormtiger decided to turn Clockblocker into a ballistic missile. Dennis was still shaken up about that from what Vicky had heard from Dean. His usual joking demeanor was all but gone, and now he was grim withdrawn, and serious.
Her thoughts wandered back to Greg. He was quiet, serious, usually spoke only when spoken to, and gave robotic answers. Clearly he was on the spectrum. She’d never asked to what extent, but one day she did find out. It was one of those nights Nurse Veder had brought him into work with her and, for some reason or another, he’d taken to following her around. She didn’t mind, as for her, healing people was as simple as a touch. Then he started asking questions.
“Panacea?”
“Yes Greg?”
“You don’t do brains right?” He asked in his robotic monotone.
Glancing at him she shook her head, “No I don’t why?”
“Just curious… Some people at my school said I was creepy. That I was broken. That my head wasn’t… wired right. I heard mom and dad say I’m a high functioning autistic… So I thought if something was broken, you might be able to fix it. But you don’t do brains huh?”
Amy sighed sadly, “No Greg, I don’t do brains… what school do you go to?”
“Winslow… It's dirty. I don’t like it. But mom and dad say it's all we can afford,” He replied easily.
“Well next time you hear people talking about you like that, you just call me, and I’ll show up with Vicky and we’ll have a word with them ok?” She held out her hand, “Do you have a cellphone?”
He nodded and handed his phone over. It was a nice easy to use smartphone. She plugged her number in. “There now you can reach me if you need to, I may not be able to do brains, but I can fix anything else. Including broken bodies after Vicky roughs someone up.”
“Thanks Amy… also what's a Sociopath? Mom and Dad think I might be a high functioning one of those too.”
Amy looked him over. “Do you lack empathy Greg? Or do you not care about morals and laws, maybe behave impulsively?”
The blonde took a moment to think, “Well, if I see something I consider wrong, I do something about it. I don’t really think about stuff like legal. My Uncle James when he was alive said I had a Chaotic Good mindset. Whatever that means.”
‘So he does what he feels is right and to hell with the law? I mean that’s not right but, the Bay is pretty messed up already. So how bad could a vigilante really be?’ Unlike the rest of her family Amy saw the results of the injuries inflicted in the games of cops and robbers all the capes played. She was no fool. Hero, Villain it made no difference who put you in the hospital with bullet wounds, shattered bones, and ruptured organs, just that you were there now and she was expected to fix you all the same. And she did… and five to ten weeks later the villains and gangbangers were back out on the street like the jailhouse had a revolving door on it or something. ‘So maybe a little bit of vigilante justice is what Brockton needs.’
“I don’t think that makes you a bad person Greg. Just a person with… different priorities from normal.” Amy told him honestly. She found herself meaning it too.
He smiled at her, “Thanks Panacea, I’m glad we’re friends?” he phrased it as more of a question as if he were unsure.
She nodded as she fixed up another gunshot victim, “Yes Greg we’re friends, now, as a friend, could you go get me a cup of coffee with extra sugar, please?”
“I can do that! Black coffee extra sugar… Black coffee extra sugar…” He said to himself as he walked away.
“It's sweet… you being nice to the retard and all.” her current patient, a banger for the E88 said in mocking tones.
Scowling at him, Panacea replied, “You know you have erectile dysfunction right?”
“No I don’t?” he said dumbly.
“You do now. Next patient!” she called out sharply.
He panicked. “Wait, you can’t just do this to me! I’m a patient, you're a doctor!”
“Technically I’m not a doctor. I didn’t take any classes or anything… hell I’m not even getting paid for this, since that would break child labor laws. So yeah, good luck with the ED and the low sperm count.”
“Low sperm count?!” He said in a pitched voice.
Amy nodded, “Yeah that wasn’t me by the way, that’s just genetic. Too much inbreeding I guess.” she said with an uncaring shrug. “Next patient?!” she called again as she shooed him out the door.
“I got your coffee Amy.” Greg as he came back in a couple minutes later carrying a styrofoam cup and two snickers bars.
“A Snickers bar, for me?”
Greg nodded, “I heard you yelling and they say on TV that you should eat these when you're hungry because people don’t act like themselves when hungry.”
Amy chuckled. “Thanks for thinking of me Greg.”
Amy wasn’t a fan of nougat but she was starting to enjoy Snickers bars.
It had become something of a routine since then that, whenever Nurse Veder brought Greg in, he would be her little helper. He would do things like fetch her coffee, food, talk to her, eventually he got to the point where he would force her to take breaks every couple of hours for fifteen minutes. She had grown quite fond of her little helper. Well as fond as she could grow of anyone whose name wasn’t Victoria at any rate. So when she heard that his mother died in the middle of a cape fight, she was devastated. Her first thought was, ‘Poor Greg, how will he process this?’ Her second thought was, ‘What’s he going to do to the people responsible?’
Amy wasn’t stupid, and she knew Greg wasn’t either. The way he carried himself, how he constantly scanned the room for threats, and put himself just in front of her whenever she received a new patient. No, somehow Greg despite his mental deficiencies had been taught how to fight. How well and by whom, she didn’t know but whoever it was had a military background of some kind. She was of course curious about her little helper, but didn’t want to pry. People already did that enough with her and her whole family so she knew how annoying it could be. Instead she kept her peace and waited for the right moment. One that never came, because not even forty-eight hours later his father was also killed, and Greg? Greg was in the wind.
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“Amy the hospital called, they said you didn’t show up for your shift. Would you like to explain yourself, young lady?” Carol asked. No Carol didn’t ask, she never asked, she demanded, always demanded. Demanded more, demanded better, demanded the best. Amy was quite sick of it if she was being honest.
“I didn’t go Carol, I was busy doing something more important,” Amy replied as she finished putting on a nondescript black hoodie that went with the jeans she was already wearing.
Carol pursed her lips as she frowned, “What praytell, could be more important than doing your job at the hospital? I swear if you're doing something shady and this comes back on New Wave…”
“Mom, chill will you?” Victoria said, almost pleadingly. “Amy practically lives at the hospital as it is. Shouldn’t we be happy she’s found a hobby outside of school? What is it Aims? Are you going and feeding stray cats? Going to secret rave parties in abandoned dock warehouses? Ooh! Is it a boy! Is it? Is it?! It is a boy isn’t it?! C’mon what’s his name tell me, tell me, tell me!” Victoria needled as she floated over to her sister in all but blood.
“Well, it does involve a boy but we aren’t dating. He’s a friend of mine and he’s gone missing, I’ve just been looking for him. That's all.”
“Missing?” Victoria said worriedly.
“Amy isn’t this a job for the police?” Carol said, finally setting the paper aside fully and giving her second daughter her full attention.
The healer scoffed. “They haven’t found him yet and it's been six months. You’ll forgive me if I have little faith in our overburdened and underfunded BBPD.”
“What’s his name and why are you looking for him, Aims?” Vicky said, floating to the ground, her exuberance gone.
“His names Greg, Greg Veder and his mom was a nurse at the hospital.”
Vicky hummed a moment before she said, “Wait, that names familiar… isn’t that the civvie Clockblocker torpedoed into during the fight with Stormtiger?”
“The very same… and his dad died not a day later in a scuffle with the Merchants. He disappeared after their funeral and no one has seen him since. He’s a high functioning autistic which is why I’m so worried.”
“Why was no one watching him?” Carol showed anger for the first time since she started listening to the conversation.
Amy shrugged, “Someone was supposed to pick him up and take him to his Godmothers, but they never showed up from what I hear, and he just wandered off. So yeah that’s why I haven’t been spending as much time at the hospital Carol, I need to find my friend,”
“You should’ve told us, we could’ve helped Aims,” Vicky needled her sister.
The healer coughed into her hand for a moment before she replied, “Yeah um no offense Vicky, but all of New Wave being out in force is… kind of obvious? Like the Heroes are up to something grab your torches and pitchforks, kind of obvious.”
Glory Girl blinked, “Huh?”
‘Why are the pretty ones always so dumb?’ Amy thought to herself.
“What Amy is saying Victoria is that if an entire superhero team started flying around the city looking for someone, the villains would be on edge and it could cause even more fights than usual to break out. Greg, the very person we’d be looking for, could get hurt in the crossfire.” Carol explained.
“Oh… okay yeah that makes sense.” She nodded. “Then we’ll just have to do it incognito, hush-hush mums the word and all that. 007-style.”
“Vicky I love you, but you're as discreet and subtle as a wrecking ball flying through an antique china shop window,” Amy told her honestly. Amy shook her head, “No, it's best I do this on my own like I have been doing.”
“Hey… I resemble that remark,” Vicky said lamely. She couldn’t deny it. Subtle and quiet she was not.
“Just what exactly have you been doing lately young lady?” Carol said, giving her a pointed look.
Amy sighed, “Dressing in civvies and going all around town looking for him. Like I’m about to do.”
“Amy, that's stupid dangerous, and this is coming from me, the girl PHO calls Collateral Damage Barbie,” Vicky said, “I’m like the queen of bad ideas, and I’m telling you, that’s a bad idea.”
Carol rubbed her temples feeling a headache coming on. “I agree with your sister.”
“You do?” Amy said, shocked. “You’ve never agreed with me on… anything come to think of it.”
Carol glowered at her adopted daughter, “I meant Victoria. It’s too dangerous for you to keep going out alone. It’s amazing you haven’t been kidnaped already.”
“Well I can’t take Vicky with me, she kinda sticks out like a sore thumb, then I’d get recognized… No offense Vicky.”
Glory Girl waved her hands, “None taken.”
Carol chewed the inside of her lip before she said, “Well there’s no help for it then. I’ll just have to go with you. You wait here while I go get changed,” She stopped on the stairs and said, “No sneaking out without me young lady,”
After she was gone Amy turned to Vicky and asked, “Vicky… what the fuck just happened? Did Carol… Carol of all people just decide to come with me to look for my missing friend?”
“Yes… she did… This is so weird… I would’ve thought mom would pick something different for a mother-daughter bonding experience, like a spa day or something but yeah, a missing persons case works too I guess.”
Amy blinked, “Mother-daughter… Vicky how in the hell did you get bonding experience out of this?”
“Well what else would you call it Aims?” Victoria rebutted, “She could’ve called Aunt Sarah but she didn’t. She decided to help you herself. That’s gotta mean something right. Right?”
Amy shrugged, “She probably didn’t want to bug Sarah, Dad can’t go for obvious reasons, you don’t do subtle things, and Crystal and Eric are both busy with school and stuff, leaving just her.”
“Well, it's still something right?” Victoria said half-hopefully.
“Okay ready to go?” Carol said as she came down the stairs wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a black leather sports jacket, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, before slipping into a smart set of jogging shoes.
Amy resisted the urge to facepalm, “Carol I’m going to look for my friend, not a fashion show… that includes the docks…”
The Dallon matriarch raised an eyebrow, “What, you think rich people don’t do drugs… and I’d better never catch either of you doing drugs by the way.”
“Sounds like you're talking from experience there mom… got something you wanna share?” Vicky said as she smirked like a Cheshire cat.
“Not really, not until you're older at any rate,” Carol replied. “Well, where too first Amy?”
‘Wow I guess we’re really doing this,’ the healer thought to herself, “Well, I’ve been through E88 territory twice already this week.”
“By yourself? Considering our history with them? I thought you were smarter than that Amy. I thought we taught you better.” Carol said, sounding disappointed.
“Carol, this isn’t about me or you being disappointed or not. It’s about Greg and finding him hopefully alive. So just once can you please stow this oh so holier than thou attitude and help me?” Amy snapped for the first time ever at her mother.
“Damn Amy…” Victoria spoke into the silence that followed an impressed grin in her tone.
Carol looked stunned for a moment before clamping her mouth shut and nodding, “I…your right someone’s life could potentially hang in the balance… you do know of course that it has been half a year, that the chances of finding him, let alone alive are…”
Amy didn’t let her finish, “As long as he still has a pulse and no brain damage, I will do everything in my power to help him. I’m called Panacea for a reason damnit!”
“Woohoo! Go Aims!” Vicky cheered. “You know, I may not be helpful on the ground, but maybe I can provide a bird's eye view? We’ll find your BF faster that way.”
“He’s not my boyfriend Vicky. I don’t even like boys like that… I just feel responsible for him, like… I dunno a big sister I guess? I’m assuming that’s how you feel towards me anyway.”
Vicky quickly pulled her sister into a floating hug, “Aww, that’s so cute! Okay but that means this is super serious!” Vicky said suddenly putting on her game face. “We went from finding a friend to finding a kinda-sorta-pseudo-family member. That’s like, next level.”
“Please don’t call Aunt Sarah.” Amy sighed.
“Hey Aunt Sarah? Yeah it's Victoria we’ve got a bit of a situation over here and we need all hands on deck… yes everyone. If you can get them, yeah. I’ll tell you when you arrive. It’s semi-serious… What no! Why would you think mom is kicking Amy out of the house? What do you mean you’ve had a guest room prepared for such an occasion?! Aunt Sarah… Aunt Sarah… She hung up,” She said looking at her phone oddly. “What was all that about?”
“Damnit Victoria… How am I going to explain this to my sister?” Carol said, rubbing her eyes.
“Over several bottles of red wine?” Her birth child suggested, “That’s usually how it goes with you two.”
“Shut up… Also, don’t become an alcoholic… not that I am of course… I’m just saying don’t use alcohol to solve your problems… or drink period until you're twenty-one.”
“Right… sure mom,” Vicky agreed right before the door was blasted down by an angry Lady Photon.
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“I can’t believe you gave me a blackeye without even letting me explain the situation,” Carol glared at her sister as best she could with one good eye from her spot on the couch. That Sarah had forbidden Amy from healing her and she so easily complied was a gutpunch.
Crossing her arms Sarah Pellham replied, “Well Carol you don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to Amy.”
Carol opened her mouth, closed it, and begrudgingly admitted, “I deserve that,”
Crystal cleared her throat and asked, “So Auntie Carol what’s the big emergency?”
Sighing, Carol replied, “It’s not really an emergency Victoria blew it out of proportion. Amy has a friend missing and she and I are going to go look for him. He’s been missing for six months now so the prospects aren’t good and he’s on the spectrum, with high functioning autism apparently.”
“Oh my gosh!” Crystal said, covering her mouth.
“His parents must be worried sick,” Sarah said as she pulled both Eric and Crystal into a brief hug.
With a sigh, the healer of New Wave announced, “They are no longer with us, his mother used to work at the hospital and his father at the DWU they both died within a day of each other. After the funeral Greg just disappeared.”
“That poor boy,” Neil Pellham said, rubbing his chin. “Would you like us to help search?”
“I guess, if you want?” Amy shrugged. “I’ve been taking time off from the hospital to look for him but so far, no luck. You’d be surprised how useful wandering around in nondescript civvies can be.”
“Still going around by yourself is…” Her father, Mark Dallon who had remembered to take his pills today began nervously.
The resident healer of New Wave sighed in annoyance before she glowered at the rest of her family, and said, “I may not have super strength, barriers, fire lasers, or be able to fly, but I can still take care of myself perfectly fine, thank you very much. I know everyone treats me like the baby of the family but I’m not useless.”
“We never said you were Aims,” Vicky said, doing her best to console her sister.
Amy huffed, “No, but half the time I’m either getting treated like I’m made of glass, or in Carol's case, like I’m a bomb that could go off at any moment. I’m neither.”
“I just want you to use your powers responsibly. I don’t want you to end up like your birth father… he was a bad man Amy,” She paused for a moment.
“You mean Marquis right?” The room went dead silent at Amy’s pronouncement and you could hear a pin drop. She shrugged uncaringly, “What? It’s pretty obvious when you think about it. I mean I was adopted right around the time you guys put Marquis away, I looked up some pictures of the guy and I look just like him, and since powers tend to be similar to each other it makes sense that my powers work the way they do. He had osteokinesis and I have biokinesis.”
“When did you figure this out?” Mark asked into the silence.
“I was fourteen, started getting curious about who my birth parents were, I did some digging ‘cause I couldn’t see the Dallons adopting just any random kid off the street. There had to be a reason you picked me,” She shrugged again before finishing lamely, “When I saw Marquis’ mugshot, combined with my powers and his, it just clicked.” She took a breath, looked at her ‘mother’ and continued, “That also explained why Carol has always been such a hardass. Didn’t make it right, but at least there was an explanation,” Pointing a finger at her she accused, “You think I’m going to turn out like Marquis. Go crazy or something.”
“Well, you are his daughter,” Carol fired back, getting tired of all the insults being thrown her way.
“Carol?!” Sarah gasped, shocked her sister would sink so low.
Other than narrowing her eyes, Amy did nothing other than to retort, “Yeah, and there’s such a thing as nurture over nature. You sucked at the nurturing part so if for some odd reason I did go bad, it could be laid at your feet just as much as Marquis, Carol.”
Crossing her arms in front of her chest Brandish said haughtily, “You have never once called me mother or even mom. So excuse me if I’ve never felt all that nurturing towards you.”
“That’s because you have never even once made me feel wanted or accepted being around you! So why the hell would I feel comfortable calling you mom?!” Amy said, raising her voice. “I feel more comfortable calling Aunt Sarah mom than you because she actually treats me like a human being rather than something unpleasant she stepped in whenever she sees me!”
“Well then, maybe you should go live with her!” Carol shouted at her adoptive daughter.
“Maybe I will!” Amy hollered back before she got up and stormed out of the house, slamming the door on her way out.
In the awkward silence that remained Crystal piped up, “Umm, weren’t we supposed to be looking for someone?”
“Fuck!” Carol said, rubbing her temples. She’d gotten so riled up she’d completely forgotten the original reason they’d gathered here in the first place. To find a missing boy. Amy’s missing friend. A friend Amy had just left to go find… on her own… again.
“Dammit all.” Carol cursed as she wiped away tears. “I should go after her.”
“No,” Mark, who was usually calm and quiet, off in his own little world, spoke with unusual authority. “You are the last person Amy needs to see right now. I’ll go talk to our daughter. Vicky, you will coordinate the search from the air with Crystal and Eric,” He turned to his in-laws. “Sarah I need you to convince your sister, preferably without destroying my house, that she has two daughters not just one,” To Neil he said, “I need you to keep them from killing each other. It’s a big dangerous job, but I think you can handle it.”
“Any chance I can go with you and the kids?” Neil joked half-heartedly. “My job feels the most dangerous by far.”
“You can handle it, your Manpower after all.” Mark said, patting him on the shoulder. Turning to the kids he said, “C’mon Shielder, Laserdream, Glory Girl, we’ve got a missing young man to find.”
“Right behind you Flashbang,” Crystal said, smiling at her uncle as he went to change into his costume.
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Adam Mustain, better known as Skidmark, was the leader of the most feared and respected gangs in Brockton Bay. The Archer’s Bridge Street Merchants. At least that’s what he thought of himself as. In reality, he was nothing more than a petty pathetic drug pusher and addict who just so happened to have powers. Fortunately his brain was far too fried from years of copious methamphetamine use to even begin to contemplate how to use his ability to generate force fields effectively. But what Skidmark lacked in brains he more than made up for with a kind of uncaring savagery and cunning only a drug addict could possess.
Which is why he whistled happily as best as he could through cracked and broken teeth as he walked down the trash strewn and needle covered alleyway that constituted Merchant territory. Heading towards Squealers workshop. Not even filling the chill of the late April air as he walked. His costume consisted of thin blue cloth that was probably found discarded in a dumpster somewhere, but Skidmark didn't care because he was so hopped up on drugs right now, he couldn't feel anything.
‘Squealer better have her limp dick cock sucking ride ready, and it better guzzle gasoline more than she does the cum out my taint.’ He thought to himself darkly as he palmed the syringe of meth he had in his pocket just in case his girl needed a little pick-me-up. “Squealer! Why in Mary’s Virgin Asshole do I not hear a roaring engine?! You lazy shitfuck! We got a delivery to make tonight! Git yo shit together you white chocolate washboard chest no titty havin’ beanpole bitch.”
“Adam, will you shut the hell up already? You're giving me a bigger headache with every word that’s coming out of those assflaps you call lips.” Sherrill said while comment before coming out of her office, and gently pulling the door close behind her. “ Also, keep it the hell down, I've got half a headache.”
Incited, Skidmark ran towards Squealer and slapped her across the face. “ You listen here, you dickless bitch! You don't talk to me like that. I'm Skidmark, leader of the Merchants! I've got a dick longer than a sperm whale and I know how to use it because you've never once complained. Now you better start showing me some damn respect with the words coming out of your cock guzzling mouth-pussy, or you're not gonna get your candy anymore, you hear me? Now get back to work. We've got a delivery to make across the country tonight, and the heaps of junk called a ride ain't ready yet.”
Sherrill Bailey reached up and touched her lip. Pulling away, she felt blood and the slight sting. But beyond that, she felt something else she hadn't felt in years because she was too numb from all the drugs… Indignation and anger. This piece of shit limp dick front of her had just put his hands on her for the last time. Silently getting up, Sherrill picked up a pipe wrench and walked stealthily behind Skidmark. Raising the heavy, blunt object over her head, she struck her former lover and abuser behind the dome. There was a sickening crack.As the back of his skull split open and blood flew everywhere. But that wasn't enough to kill Skidmark. He instinctively stopped himself from falling using one of his force fields, self-righted and then turned on her, murder burning in his bloodshot eyes.
“You think you can ventilate the back of my skull? You no good hopped up biatch?” He pulled a .45 caliber revolver on her. Grinning with broken, crooked teeth as he replied, “Gress… Guess again. See you in hell, Biatch.” If Skidmark had been more coordinated and less strung out on drugs, he might have been able to get a shot off before Squealer strung swung the pipe wrench at his wrist, shattering it. The gun still went off, but the bullet flew harmlessly off into the distance.
Skidmark was too angry to feel pain at this point, and he figured if he was going to die, he was going to take Squealer with him. So, activating his power around himself, he threw himself at the other druggie. They fought over the pipe wrench for a time until he used his power and threw her temporarily off balance, sending them both tumbling to the concrete and oil covered floor. Then he was on top of her and he was attempting to choke her out, pressing the pipe wrench harshly against her throat.
“Got you now, biatch, I've got you now!” Skidmark crowed happily, cackling as he did so. With his remaining good hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of crystal meth. “I’m not completely heartless Squeals. I'm going to let you go out with a smile one last time, for old times sake.”
“No,” she choked out. “Get that shit away from me! I don't want that poison going through my veins.”
Stabbing her right in the heart and grinning at her as he put his thumb on the plunger, Skidmark said, “Too damn bad biatch.” Skidmark watched in sadistic glee as Squealer's body slowly went limp and her eyes became owl-like from the high she was experiencing. “I got you, bitch. I got you. I-” He suddenly stopped talking when a long black blade burst from his stomach. He immediately lost feeling in his legs as they turned to jelly.
“What? What the fuck?” Skidmark choked out as blood fell from his lips. Looking behind him, he saw a young boy with blonde hair and blue eyes staring at him. Holding a weapon that looked like it was made out of opaque black glass. “Who… the fuck is you?”
Ripping the obsidian sword out of Skidmark’s guts, The boy replied In a robotic monotone, “I am Greg.” He then held it straight up in both hands before he took a final swing and lopped off the druggies head. Pushing the now headless corpse aside before it could even begin to cool, he studied the now shaking form of Squealer. “Hang in there, Sherrill,” He said as he put his hands on her and her body began to sweat, as it was warmed like it was in a sauna.
Yet to his surprise and amazement, Squealer was getting taller, and her skin pigmentation was turning green. She was also getting bustier? What’s more, she was getting more teeth in her mouth. So many, in fact, that she couldn't close her job properly, now looking like she had a perpetual smile on her face. By the time this unknown transformation had finished, Sherrill was nearing seven feet tall, and her hair had gone from a straight dirty blonde to a curly messy mane of deep purple. But her eyes still cerulean blue eyes finally snapped open, she yelled one thing, “I’s gonna… I’s gonna… I’s gonna WAAAGH!”
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Word Count: 6,704 Number of Pages: 15 Date Completed: 1/17/2024
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AN: Hello Fans, Stans, and fellow Writers alike! Welcome to a little experiment I’m doing writing-wise. I wanted to figure out what format of writing was best for me. Shorter chapters which I could produce more of, or my usual long chapter format. So, to that end I’m posting this story and we’ll see how consistently I keep updating it. That plus how good the reception for it is will determine my writing style going forwards. That said, I hope you all enjoyed yet another Worm fic by yours truly (I think Snowy for one is starting to get fed up with my Worm loving muse personally) But hey tough cookies Snowy! You know what you signed up for when you took this job man! That said, I hope you all enjoyed it and I’ll see you next time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go force feed Snowy Panda Express, and force Hassan to eat bacon…. And pigs feet.
Snowy:
Hassan:
Thanks again for reading! This has been an Inkblot Bros Production! Peace!
Comments
Jareth Norris
interesting take on Greg, I want to see where it goes, and the harem must be fed
Zax
Aww hell yeah. His new phone handle can be edge lord now lol
