Vengeful Creations || ONC 2021

Chapter Four

The sudden stinging impact made me yelp, and I staggered back a few steps.

"Hey!" Peter cried.

"Madam! Bridle thine temper!" Hamlet shouted.

Lady Silk ignored them. "You deserve that and more, you bitch!" she yelled at me. "All of this is your fault!"

"Slow your roll, Lady Silk," Peter said. "She didn't know."

"Didn't know, and clearly didn't care," Lady Silk snapped. "She abandoned us!" Fist raised in menace, she stalked toward me.

Peter stood in her way. "And kicking her ass helps our situation how? C'mon. Yeah, she screwed up, but she's the only one who can unscrew this screw up, so hands off and let her unscrew already!"

NightHawk put a pacifying hand over Lady Silk's balled fist. "Peter's right," NightHawk said. "Cristina needs our protection. If Doctor Impossible gets his villainous mitts on her, Mayhem Day will be a success, and we will likely end up six feet under."

"We need to get her down to the HQ," Knives added. "She needs a safe, quiet place to write our ending."

"Agreed," Peter said.

"Aye, agreed. Most assuredly," Hamlet concurred.

Lady Silk looked the Danish prince up and down in a way I didn't especially like. "You're a suspiciously attractive man," she said, one hand resting on her jutted hip. "Who are you?"

"He's Othello," Peter said.

"Hamlet," I hissed.

"Same thing," Peter said.

"I assure you, it is not," Hamlet argued. He turned to Lady Silk. "Prince Hamlet of Elsinore, my lady. An honor and pleasure. Yet I shall thank you to refrain from laying hands upon our fair creator, lest I find must needs to protect her virtue and vibrance with unbending steel and noble intent."

Lady Silk stared up at Hamlet, her mouth slightly ajar. "I only caught about half of that, but the part I understood was super hot," she declared.

"Kill me," Peter muttered.

"So, plan of action," NightHawk said, taking his usual position as peacemaker and defacto leader. "We take Cristina to HQ, she finishes our story—"

"With Doctor Impossible being thwarted," Knives interjected. "He and his lackeys need jail time. Or, you know, death."

"I vote death," Lady Silk stated.

"Agreed," NightHawk said with a nod. "Then we return Cristina to her reality before any of our enemies can demand rewrites."

Lady Silk grabbed my arm. "Let's get this done," she said.

I jerked out of her grasp. "It's not that simple," I argued. "As much as you deserve rush delivery, I can't just give you guys a quick fix, then put my tail between my legs and run home. You are not the only people I owe."

"Like the bitch with the violins?" Lady Silk asked with a sneer. She crossed her arms over her purple chest. "She can wait. I doubt any of your other creations are dealing with a neverending attack on their city. We sent Peter to rescue you. We get priority."

"I'm grateful," I said. "You have no idea the close call Peter saved me from. But I can't properly repay you with a crappy, cliché, good-guy-kick-bad-guy-ass ending. I need to make this right. All of this. These stories — yours, Hamlet's, Madam Longwenier's, countless others — are my creations. Everything in this world is the product of my dreams made manifest. Dreams cannot be summed up by the quick, timely death of a villain."