Black Cat Origins

Chapter 4

Weeks later, a newspaper landed in front of the Hardy's house, as it always did, and Felicia padded out in slippers and dressing down to retreive it. As she strightened up, she opened the big paper as she walked, reading the headline ''Masked man umasked!'' As she read on, her eyes widened as she took in the information in front of her. Her.. Father.. He was? She ran inside, slamming the newspaper down in front of her mother. ''Did you know?'' She asked, pointing at her father's picture. ''DID YOU KNOW?!?'' She started to yell. ''Calm down Felicia! Yes, I knew he was Black Cat. He never worked in antiques, and he never brought any of that stuff home with him. He wanted to keep us safe..'' She stared at her mother as if she was mental. ''You never thought to mention that MY FATHER WAS AN INTERNATIONAL THIEF?!?!'' Her voice started to rise again. ''Stop that right now! He didn't even want to tell me, until I found the outfit. I thought he was cheating on me, on us, but he explained, and told me to keep it a secret till you were old enough to understand-'' ''And when would I understand mom? When you were on your deathbed?!'' She swept the table, plates and mugs crashing onto the floor, coffee covering the newspaper with her father's face on it. ''Be lucky it doesn't say Walter Hardy.'' Felicia said, her voice low, dripping with venom. ''Because we would both get it in the neck.'' And with that, she turned and left the room, leaving her mother to clean up the mess made by her angry daughter. 

As she slammed the door to her family home, Felicia made her way into town, unsure of how to go about doing anything when she now understood her departed father's work phone. The silver one she had not thought about for years, until now. She wondered where it was, if it had gone down with the plane, like her dad had. As minutes turned to hours, she escaped more and more into Queens, window shopping rather than actually buying anything, feeling too out of it to really consider shopping. Her father was Black Cat. And that twirled round in her thoughts more than anything else. Her thoughts kept her occupied as day turned into night, and she realised how far she had walked, and turned round to head back home. As her heels clicked thier way down her usual route through the park to get home, her hearing caught wind of another set of footsteps following her, as she turned, they turned, as she sped up, they did, and soon, they were apon her, a hand snaking out to wrap round her waist. ''Oh, hello pretty little thing..'' The man purred at her, weilding a small pocket knife as he held that up to her. ''Give me your money and phone and no one has to get hurt.'' 

Every sense inside her screamed to escape, screamed to run awaty from the sweaty man who wanted her valuables, but she pushed those feelings down, trying to keep as calm as she could. Opening the bag, she started to reach down to grab her purse, but she hands hit something else instead. Something her mother had given her ages ago. Pepper spray. ''You never know when you might need it, seeing as you like to walk alone everywhere!'' She had said when she had given it to her, practically shoved it into her usual handbag. And now she was glad she had it. Turning in the guy's arm, she pulled it out and sprayed the thing into her face. As he howled in pain, the knife sliding across her arm, a small cut appearing, she winced, but adrenaline kept her going, pushing the man away, and kicking him in the crotch for good measure. As he fell, she scooped up her bag that had fallen from her arm, and started to run, in her heels, away from him, dashing across the field in 5 minutes flat, the adrenaline keeping her going until she reached home. As she turned and leaned against the door, panting, she grinned, the andreniline flwoing through her veins. Is this how her father had felt? As he swooped through the air, item in hand, a smile on his face as he evaded capture? She thought he would, and a small laugh escaped her, before she looked down at her arm. A small cut, nothing horrible. She could chalk it up to a cat scratch. Another laugh crept out of her lips. Now she was making cat puns! With a shake of her head she unlocked the door to her family home, to face her probably terrified mother.