Horns blared through the thick fog, their protest lost to the city’s indifference. New York, a tangled mess of steel and concrete, choked on traffic. Streetlights flashed, unheeded by impatient drivers, and a taxi’s bumper kissed the side of a garbage truck. Pedestrians threaded through the slow-moving cars, their steps quick and practiced, fluid where the city was not.
A soft, wet fog blanketed the skyline, drowning neon signs in gray. One beacon cut through — the blazing Ultratech display, its light precise and cold against the tired, perpetual motion of the streets.
The CEO sat alone in her office, eyes tracing the floating projections. Gold and pale gray metals sculpted her form, the edges gleaming in the dim light. From her head, alloy strips cascaded like dreadlocks — imposing, elegant, hers alone.
Silence settled over the office until the door slid open. The thrum of plasma permeated the space — then a fiery humanoid emerged, its form molten and restless. Ribbons of flame twisted and flared outward like solar eruptions, their erratic light clawing across the cool steel surfaces of the room.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to enter, Cinder.” The CEO’s voice crackled with mechanical clarity, each syllable cut clean.
Though his neutral mask hid nothing of his intent, Cinder tilted his head — a minor concession to the other’s annoyance. He advanced toward the desk, the soft thud of his feet punctuating the charged air between them.
“Have you seen the news, ARIA?” Cinder’s voice rumbled like heated metal. His fingers moved to the holographic display. “Chamberlain, Maine, was the scene of a massacre. The report claims a student used telekinesis to kill people.”
ARIA gestured, and the screen descended from the ceiling. It snapped to life — a news broadcast, a reporter standing before the charred skeletal remains of a school. Beyond the yellow tape, detectives combed through the debris, their voices drowned by the clamor. The feed was current, but the bright sky and sharp shadows placed the tragedy a day earlier.
“I’m reporting live from Thomas Ewen High School, where authorities have yet to identify a suspect in the ‘Black Prom’ massacre of May 25, 2013. The number of lives lost remains unconfirmed, but we have just received a significant development.”
The reporter’s hand pressed a finger to his earpiece, his face hardening. He turned back to the camera. “Police have recovered a camera capturing the entire massacre. Analysts are reviewing the footage and may release it to the public pending approval. Viewers should exercise discretion; the content is graphic and disturbing. We will remain on site as this story develops.”
The clip opened on a young woman of quiet grace, her strawberry-blonde hair and bluish-gray eyes catching the overhead lights. A pink gown draped her frame as she smiled. Beside her, a handsome boy with fair hair radiated calm confidence in a white tuxedo. Both wore crowns. His smile was wide and oblivious, hers unguarded and rare.
They held the center of the stage, caught in the glow of a thousand lights, when a groan of ropes split the rafters above them. Blood poured down. It soaked them both — warm and relentless, clinging to fabric and skin. Though some caught the boy, his date bore the brunt, red blooming across her drenched satin.
“What began as a harmless prom prank turned into horror. Seventeen-year-old Carrie White became the target of a cruel trick.” Laughter echoed from the speakers — careless and bright — until a sudden impact cut it off.
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Killer Instinct: Carrie Unleashed
Fanfiction"Every soul has a breaking point. Some emerge to become something else. Others become something far worse." The shadow of the Black Prom Massacre still suffocates Chamberlain, Maine. Though the world believes Carrie White perished in the flames, the...
