The Things We Do (Under Editing)

We Meet Again

It's strange how people suddenly care what you do when your actions start to affect them. Suddenly, I wasn't just a topic of interest. Kacie didn't plop down next to me and say, "Did you hear what Phantom Banshee did?" It had been a long time since this city found themselves with a villain that actually mattered. I would matter. I was already starting to. My days of stealing artifacts were over, and Corum wasn't going to be the last person to get hurt. It was just as Wraith wanted. My name had begun to instill fear, and it would only get worse. This was his entertainment. He relished the panic that his slaves caused. I only cared about my rising grade. However, it had been almost two weeks since I gotten my last mission.

The downtime gave me the chance to upgrade my gear. When on the path to becoming a master criminal, you can never be too careful with your tech. The last thing I wanted was for it to stop working or end up out of reach when I needed it most. As such, I was hard at work implanting my voice modifier into a choker I could wear around my neck, and turning my glove into the remote. Just by drawing circles in my palm, I would be able to alter the frequency and volume of my voice. That was the idea, anyway. I still hadn't gotten it to work. It didn't help that I had to hide everything whenever my roommate was around. Mel had a bad habit of walking into my room uninvited and unannounced.

I loved her, truly, but both she and Kacie seemed to believe that my room was public space.

She was at work, however, so of course I found myself on the floor of my room, toying with my glove. I was pouring perhaps more of my time than I could spare into this project, but I wasn't getting anywhere. Even after three days of working on it, it still refused to cooperate. It would, though. I just needed more time.

A groan passed my lips and my chin dropped to my chest when I heard my phone ding at me. I knew from the sound that it was Wraith. Apparently I wouldn't get the time I needed today. I didn't even look at my phone as I reached for it, dragging it from the bed behind me and dropping it in my lap. The message was short.

"Your next task starts now."

Fear. Panic. Destruction. Wraith gave me my assignment, and set me loose to wreak havoc as I pleased. My only question was, "How?" It's not like I sat around plotting how to bring the city to ruin. There was also the slight problem of my deadline. I had one night to make people truly fear my name. So, I set off across the city, hoping to stumble upon an idea.

Street after street offered no help. People went about their business around me as if I wasn't thinking how best to hurt them. My thoughts and feet ran faster as time slipped by. I passed through the crowd like a shadow, as meaningless as a raindrop in a storm. In a city like this, you could stand in the street and scream, but no one would even bother to look your way. My job was to make them look.

I decided to escape the throng, cutting through the ground level of a parking garage. My footsteps echoed against the stone and instinct had me checking around every car as I passed. Chances were I wasn't the most dangerous thing around. Unfortunately, all my care didn't stop me from crashing into someone who rounded a corner the same time I did. I reeled backwards and almost found myself on the ground, but the man caught me by the arm.

"Sorry." The word spilled from my mouth as I forced my feet back under me and backed away from the man's grip. Luckily, he let me go.

"It's fine. I wasn't paying attention either." Wait... I knew that voice. "Are you ok?"

I glanced up to meet and amber gaze that glinted in the dim light. If he hadn't spoken, I never would have recognized him. His current smile certainly hadn't been present the last time we'd met, and, of course, the lack of a gun pointed at my chest was obvious. With something close to satisfaction, I noticed the healing injuries across the side of his face.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

He nodded at me and almost turned away, but suddenly, his head tipped sideways and his eyebrows drew together. "Do I know you?"

My heart dropped. "No-" I could barely force the word through the tightness of my throat. "I don't think so." My voice was barely above a breath. He couldn't know me.

I nearly stopped breathing when he leaned in closer. "What?" My body jumped a little at the word, but the detective simply turned his head so one ear was closer to me.

"I said, 'No'!" It came out almost at a yell.

"Sorry. You just look familiar." He stared at me quizzically for a moment longer before stooping and picking up my backpack. I shook a bit as I took it from him, getting a comforting smile in response. "Be careful in places like this. It's dangerous."

Well, obviously. There was a reason I always carried pepper spray and took careful note of the advice to not yell "Help!" if I was attacked. The only thing that caught the crowd's attention was the word "fire". Always scream "Fire!"

Fire....

Fire.

That was what I needed. I would leave the air clouded in ash.