The Outcasts' Alternate Universes & Hellscapes

8 - Earth 132033: London Disturbance

WRITTEN BY JLH

2033

Julia Monroe, a fighter, a soldier, such was her fate. She once told herself that she'd put the life behind her when she was thirty-something. Little did she know she wouldn't have much of a choice.

Her rifle thundered familiarly as did her opponents', deafening all in the crowded tunnel. The flashes of light gave them shape against the curling smoke of their battle. They had the shapes of men, armored and broad, but she knew what horrors laid beneath their protection. She clung to her cover of ruined concrete and rebar as she loaded another magazine.

Her explosive rounds kept them at bay and their foul optics dared not inch closer in the smoky haze. Beneath the thundering of rounds and crumbling cement she heard a despicable whispering. The gunfire died slowly and she heard a voice through the fog, melodic and burningly pure. Disney Duchess IV, the fourth of her kind, and second she'd personally kill "Julia Monroe, you are wanted for several severe violations of the PCA and numerous acts of Terrorism. Come peacefully or we are authorized to use lethal force." The slight modulation of her voice did little to hide the dark beauty of it. Seduction, she'd moved far beyond the need to sing.

The goddamn Parahuman Containment Accord, may as well be genocide. After a stint of cataclysmic battles the UN had designed that the parahuman threat be contained to AIM or WDC facilities. She and a select few may have voiced their disapproval as the occasional bout of bombings and bloodshed for the enemy and refuge for those who needed it. They'd dubbed themselves "Black Cloak". Monroe snarled behind her cover and barked a retort "Come peacefully and die later or kill you like I did the third!? What a choice!" Her gloved knuckles were white as she grabbed the rifle. She reminded herself of one of Quar's old teachings, 'faith in steel'. She had faith her rounds could pierce whatever ungodly suit AIM and Disney could cook-up.

"Don't be unreasonable." The succubal voice begged- no, demanded. Each word from the armored demon before her couldn't be considered. No matter how reasonable they seemed, no matter how promising, she knew they'd lead only to her death, or worse. Julia hurriedly reaffixed her ear-plugs and her hands dragged the rifle to her shoulder once more! A storm rolled into the sewers once more!

Her enemies returned fire once again but Julia's eyes stayed glued not to the dim silhouettes in the fog of gunfire. Rather, her eyes scanned the air and roof of the tunnel. Her ears were picked even through the applause of war attuned to register the faintest whisper of jets or her true enemy's jets.

Men fell, Monroe's cover took her blows for her as her rifle clicked hungrily. Where was she? Where was The Fourth? Her thoughts were dragged away by encroaching bootfalls. She rose! A volley of boiling lead met her enemies and her rounds cracked open the kevlar of her opponent she too would spill blood! A round sank deep into her flesh and now her arm hung limply to the side, the joint utterly destroyed!

The woman collapsed behind her barrier, her back against the thick cement. She bitterly rummaged through her belt. Her hands were clubs in the haze of pain and adrenaline, she fumbled until she found her savior. She clutched the auto-injector of morphine and stabbed it into her ruined shoulder with a muffled scream, threatening to crack her teeth as she hissed.

She slumped for nary a moment until the drugs took their course and liberated her of her pain. She grimaced as she heard her enemy's encroachment and took some precious few seconds to tie the destroyed joint with a ragged cloth. She threw the rifle over cover and fired blindly until she too joined the machine of death to guide it.

Her eyes were greeted by the dead. She scowled as none approached. The fog of war had faded and she spotted nothing but their huddled forms behind cover. Destroyed bodies of the once-men decorated the concrete with foul spilling cybernetics and inhuman crimson, a despicable hemolymph. Thin yet dark.

A moment of silence, Julia was left with the thrashing of her heart. The quiet was of a despicable kind, untrustworthy. Then she saw the absence, The Fourth no longer hovered over her goons...

Death sounded behind her with the whirring of jets. The tunnels behind her were trap laden, mines, trips, explosives. All for the enemy that stood before her, she failed to anticipate The Fourth's arrival. She'd set traps for those bound to the earth, not those in the air!

From behind Julia, The Duchess attacked! The armored figure slammed into Monroe, her bones creaking from the impact! The woman was dragged from her cover by the force of a solid ton of steel and the titanic grip of mechanized arms around her waist!

They left the sewers in a smear of sight and sound! They soon left the earth, the city below was as a painting of dread. There'd be no survival from this height.

Monroe gasped and hacked in the armored woman's steely grip, blood trickling from her mouth. The chill of the altitude was surely a prelude to the grave. The Fourth kept Julia pinned to her with a freezing and bitter arm, crushing the other woman to her as she ripped her earplugs from her head "Shame about the ribs, isn't it? Calm down, tell me what you know, and we might see what we can do for that." Spoke her captor.

Julia strained herself to resist the sirenic words. She took a moment to look upon the enemy's new face. It was massive, thick armor, crimson, topped with black, highlighted in gold, like goddamn Micky Mouse. She'd laugh at Disney's refusal to stray from branding if she weren't going to die. She spat blood at the woman's golden optics "I don't know shit... bitch..." She fished for something on the back of her belt, a grenade. She was prevented by the slow crack of her spine by the clone.

"Ah-ah, let's not get hasty, doll." She had the audacity to coo "I can show you the world, if only you'd open up to me." Armored fingers trailed through Julia's hair.

The words clawed at her mind, she knew what the armored woman wanted. She had dire information, parahuman enclaves, the runnings of White Cloak. Finally, the information bled from her mouth "There's para-enclaves at..." She caught herself, smirking and showing her crimson-stained teeth. "F-fuck off, bitch-..." She heaved.

A quick knock to the temple and blackness took her vision. She'd been captured, she'd failed White Cloak.

Disney Duchess IV, flew back to the earth, an unconscious terrorist under her arm. The men surrounded her at attention. The night was silent, the air crisp to her pale skin even beneath the armor. She scoured her environment, golden eyes alert to even the suggestion of yet more terrorist scum. The injected memories of those before her swam, making her more than aware of what to look for. No anomalies, no inhuman filth, no artifacts, there was little need to be alarmed either way, most were dead by the second's hand. Her helm opened, exposing deathly pale skin, and eyes that could once be called sapphire. She breathed deep, savoring victory and justice.

"We got a big one, boys" The royalty chirped boisterously. A thin scarlet smile edged her face as she threw the wounded woman into the back of a van. She was given curt and professional nods of approval by her men. "Keep her alive, I'll crack her soon enough." she sidled her hands on her hips and her steely dead eyes had a glimmer of hope before her helmet closed once more.

There was little more the parahuman menace could do to hide and the foul white cloak around them was about to burn.

There would finally be peace on earth.