Under the Mirror

The First Pains

Art by unknown artist found on Pinterest

Summary: | ingredients: bloody hands, rose eyes, and realizing |

■♡■

Blake was casually strolling along the sidewalk, heading towards the drugstore in an unusually good mood. Ever since he turned eight, the first few years had been bright. He's made friends, gone to school, and the first time he came out of hiding Berserk's face was priceless.

The redhead entered the drugstore, nodding at the sleepy clerk manning the register and headed towards the back to find some Tylenol. Breaker had been complaining that his bones were "feeling funny" so as the eldest Blake had been sent out to fetch some medicine.

■♡■

Berserk hated this.

As she walked towards the drugstore just after nightfall, she reflected on how much puberty sucks.

She was eleven years old, almost twelve, and around this age girls were starting to, well... change. For the Powerpunk Girls, this was quite literally.

Having been born without fingers, feet, or any essential body parts that normal kids had, the girls' bodies were now beginning to literally rearrange themselves to grow limbs. Brat was the first victim, and Berserk almost felt sorry for her if it weren't for the earsplitting whining that echoed around the house. The Oppressor had paid no mind until he realized that Brat had been completely immobile and bloody. She couldn't get out of bed without being in extreme pain and her powers were going haywire.

Berserk shuddered and zipped up her red hoodie. Not an experience she wanted. She herself had been feeling awful lately. She was sweaty and gross, her knotted hair out of its ribbon for once and in a ratty bun. Her hands felt achy so Berserk had wrapped her mitts in bandages, just in case.

She entered the drugstore and the sleepy clerk bolted awake with a yelp. Berserk walked right up to him, grinning. Maybe some good old fashion terror would lift her dread.

"Hey there," she smirked, "you guys don't happen to have some Tylenol here do you?"

"Please don't kill me," the man sobbed. "I have a family!" Berserk rolled her eyes. Typical.

"You didn't answer my question, idiot. Do you have any Tylenol or not?" She leaned over and popped open the register, grabbing the wads of money and shoving it all in her pockets. He pointed to the back with a shaky finger and Berserk rolled her eyes and shoved him away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Berserk turned around and nearly cursed. Before her stood Blake, leader of the Rowdyright Boys, ready to fight. Any other day she would be happy to engage, but this wasn't any other day.

Her hands started to throb.

"I'm getting some Tylenol. Don't tell me you're gonna pick a fight against a poor, innocent shopper?" She pouted and fluttered her lashes teasingly.

Blake flushed with anger. "Don't act like that, you psycho! You harassed that man!" He jabbed a mitt at the cowering clerk.

Berserk laughed condescendingly and roughly shoved him aside to get to the medicine. "Last I checked girly, being a bitch wasn't against the law."

Blake followed her, seething. "You also robbed him!"

The Pink Punk clenched her teeth to ignore her growing ire and plucked the box off the shelf, only to have it swiped right under her nose — if she had one. Berserk slowly turned on her counterpart. Her left mitt was almost growing painful.