Shimmer *The Seattle Superheroes*

Prologue

London, June12, 2010, 1:43 p.m.

                The sunlight, shining brightly from above, filtered down through the buildings, barely illuminating the alleyways between the tall structures of London.  On one side of the ally, the old, decrepit bricks had been recently whitewashed to cover up the age.  The other side had also been recently painted, but not in so legal of a way.  A large, star shaped bubble surrounded the word ‘SMASH’ in purple, green, and blue paint.  A few feet down was an even larger, and astonishingly accurate, portrait of Iron Man.  Dust rose from beneath him as he blasted off from the ground, his repulsor beams blazing in his hands and his metal covered face pointing skyward.  Ironic, really, that right underneath his feet, two forms struggled.  Muffled screams filled the alleyway, followed by low grunts as the two fought.  As the larger form began to use more and more force to exert its will, the smaller form began to give up struggling beneath it.

                A can rolled down the street and hit the wall of the whitewashed building with a clang.  Two cats screeched at each other in a territory dispute.  A female voice shouted far, far away.  A squirrel chittered nervously a block down.  None of these things stopped, listened, or heeded the figures at all.  The can continued to clu-clunk, the cats continued to hiss, the voice continued to shout, and the squirrel continued to chitter.  All of these things, including the two struggling figures, also failed to notice a slim, lithe form walking down the alley with a bounce in its step.  It walked swiftly, but not so as to seem in a hurry.  Its stride was purposeful, but its gaze was not on the struggling forms—instead it was focused upon its fingernails as it picked practically microscopic bits of grime out from under them.

                A whimper filled the alley.  “No, please!”

                “You shooda just gave me wud I wanted,” The other said.

                The sound of fabric ripping joined the symphony of sounds.  A zipper was pulled down.  Two feet in white boots with red laces that came up to the knee padded silently until they stopped next two the struggling figures, and a pale hand with nails manicured into shiny little ovals placed itself on the wall right next to Iron Man’s thigh.  A loud, exaggerated feminine sigh filled the alleyway as the lithe figure propped herself up against the wall, her eyes still examining her nails.  The large figure froze.

                “The lady said please,” the woman said in a clear, piercing voice.

Please leave comments! I love critisism of all sorts, and I hate grammar mistakes, so feel free.  I will try my best to heed every comment, and I would really appreciate them.  Hope you liked it, vote if you did.

~Bear