The Original Chronicles of the Nightshade

Hunger

The rains and waves of Tsunami Bay were like a soothing lullaby to the whole city, slowly shifting in the wind and crashing against empty beaches. They sang to the citizens, and the ones who called themselves super, whispering warnings of an oncoming storm.

Nightshade wasn't listening though, instead she stared at the blue and white palette of the sandwich shop from across the alleyway with sharp purple eyes, hiding in the shroud of faux darkness. She held her muddy black veil in one hand and a single crisp twenty dollar bill folded in the other. She found herself locking her eyes on the line of people that waited in a rainbow of emotion. Impatient, excited, mundane. Faces of people who had no idea she was even staring upon them.

In her experience, it wasn't taken kindly when a villain casually walked into an popular dining spot to buy a sandwich.

To be fair, most villains weren't welcome into any business save the ones who can benefit from their antics. Technically, Nightshade was a 'lesser' villain, keeping to petty crimes that were swept under the radar of high profile superheroes and left for the police to deal with like dogs pointlessly chasing their tails. Breaking into rich homes and finding safes full of bundles of cash and stealing away into the night, unseen. They wouldn't miss a couple of bills every now and then. Finding stashes of criminal gangs and shoplifting a couple of snacks every now and then just for fun. Those were more thrilling.

Then, about a month ago, she found herself in a spot light she never asked for, posted on the front of every newspaper like some infamous celebrity or something, especially after her escapade with the Tsunami Bay's "heart-throb" hero, Victor the Great. It may have been a different story if Nightshade hadn't decided to scald his face with the palm of her hand. But she did and Victor hasn't shown his face since. She probably ruined his pride more than he was actually hurt. Now her face was everywhere. The witnesses from Victor making a scene using their phones and other devices to make her image spread across the entirety of the city. Inky black scales on a flat face that quivered idly, hidden beneath a dark gray hoodie that had been patched up from many years of use. The same jacket that now had a bullet sized hole in the shoulder.

She paced the alley way and scowled impatiently, covering her face and fading into the darkness every time someone passed by. It was past two o'clock on the third Thursday of the month. Why was everyone at Lenny's Sandwich Shop? Normally on this day, it was guaranteed that no one was in the building and she could go in, grab the sandwich she wanted for the day and give Lenny the rest of the whole twenty, usually dirty and torn. He always gave her a cookie and one of those weird cup things to get water in. She knew he never charged twenty dollars for anything, but she was never one to actually care about money unless it bought her food. Now there were at least thirteen people in there.

She stuffed the veil in her pocket and began to walk away, only to turn heel and pace back. Fourteen people. And they ran out of their house sandwich spread. A car rushed by the street, and she instantly pulled back, unwilling to find herself in another position of attention.

With a huff, she found herself a nice trash bin to sit on and brought her knees to her chin. She could smell the ingredients from here, past the putrid waste she sat above and her own unpleasant odor.

A sharp gust of wind made her shudder, piercing through her scales. The winter's rains were coming soon.

Her stomach growled, and she reminded herself that she hadn't had any semblance of a decent meal in nearly two weeks. Perhaps she'd just walk in and demand her sandwich and give Lenny his twenty and leave. How many people would alert the heroes or the police, who have become more and more competitive with the heroes and will take a stab at any chance at bringing a criminal down--super or not?