Mayhem's Beginning (Everybody Changes)

Chapter 2: Birds of Feathers

“We have done it...” an eerie voice began. “...we managed to take New York Jeweler's finest gems.” A bird-like human turned around to face a crowd of about twenty men holding rifles. “The Crow's Feet, with out all of you none of this would be possible. You guys are my foundation. Without feet, a crow can not walk.”

“You'll never get away with this.” A dark and cold voice barked after a few moments of silence. A woman in a skin tight leather suit approached the men.

“Who is going to stop me?” The eerie man said, now turning around to face the coldness of the other voice. He curled his gray as clay skin into a twisted smile that revealed his rotten black teeth. “You?” The man belched out a demented chortle.

“The Crow can not go into flight with out the aid of his feet.”

“I have feet. You on the other hand, are hopping around on a foot. Look around...” The Crow lifted up his arms. “...you're surrounded Pyra. Your death will come quickly, I promise.”

Pyra didn't say a word. She began reaching for her katana that was at her side, unsheathing the blade with caution. ZING! The sword came out as the cars that flooded the streets of New York erupted with men and women holding guns. The Crow looked left and right, his eyes opening wide. “A fire never has a single flame.” she growled.

“Don't just stand there!” The Crow croaked. “Do something!” A battle of insurgents began then. Uncertain to who fired the first shot, gunpowder and lead flew all around from the barrels of guns. The sounds of agony were boisterous. The war raged on for several minutes, each militia taking orders from their commander.

The streets, bloodstained. The warriors, fallen. The corpses lay in the asphalt, a gun at their side. The sounds of exploding automobiles and deathly shrieks of annihilation would have been spine chilling, even to the most demented soul. Guts and gore, flying. Arms and legs, blown apart. The abhorrence of the war zone was ghastly.

The smell of death filled the air as Pyra took cover behind a car. She watched her men fall one by one, a sappy feeling creeping up in her stomach. This violence, this death, they were not fighting for an unjustified cause. She tried to force herself to think this needed to be done, but she knew it was her fault. These people had families. Families that they weren't allowed to say good bye to.

From the Crow's back, bulges began forming underneath his jacket. In the blink of an eye two feathery black wings ripped through the cotton. His device of flight began flapping in attempt to grip the air. In moments he was several feet off the ground, fluttering away from the battle.

Pyra watched the moth flapping it's wings, knowing that the Crow always cowards out. This is where her new invention came into play, one that for the first time could lift a human into flight without the aid of wings or a plane. She clicked her heels together, an unbalanced stream of flames haphazardly lifting her afloat. She gasped as she almost fell back down to the Earth, but balanced herself before she did so.

Pyra leaned forward and off she was, soaring through the air like a dragon. The Crow looked behind in disbelief, not expecting anyone to be able to reach the same elevation as him. He opened his mouth to speak, but over the whipping of Crow's wings, the roaring of Pyra's boots, and the air slapping against their faces, it was like someone had put his thin voice on mute.

Pyra squinted her eyes, unable to see much through the bugs hitting her face and blinding winds. She attempted putting her arms over her eye sockets, but that had little effect. Sun glasses or a mask should have definitely been a package deal with the boots.

The two soaring figures whipped through streets, civilians snapping photos and taking video of the unusual sight. They flew around buildings, the Crow attempting to shake Pyra off his tail-feathers. They were coming up to the construction of skyscraper, it must have been fourty stories tall. The skeleton of the tower was intricate, sturdy, and exactly what the Crow needed to trick Pyra.

He flew through steel support beams, Pyra attempting to follow but nudging her knees and arms on metal. Small shrieks could be heard from the slapping sting, Pyra not one to give up easily. She recovered from the minor injury, continuing her flight to the Crow.

All of a sudden one of her boots began giving out, the roaring flames dying into a gentle kindle. Pyra's heart felt the skip of a beat, her pupils widening. Her balance became off as sudden descending began, one scorching flame attempting to support her body weight.

She fell, and fell, until finally she was able to click her heels together. She threw her arm outwards, a thin line of rope shooting out of a mechanism she wore on her wrist. The thin line wrapped around a metal bar acting as a life line. The feeling of relief was prominent as Pyra's heart began beating again, her breath returning. She swung around the support beam and dislodged her mechanism, now in mid air, arms flailing, reaching out for the feet of the Crow. Her fingers so close, her hand so near, she felt the rubber sole of Crow's boot. Crow remained in flight, Pyra now falling back towards the Earth.

Adrenaline ran through her veins, not sure whether there would be a ground close enough to catch her before certain death. She tucked, spiraled, and soon found herself atop a building rolling over her shoulder. She continued on foot with her prowl. “You sure don't know when to quit!” The Crow shouted from above.

Pyra looked up, aggravated of Crow's advantage of the skies. Her blood began to boil, steam began to burst from her ears, anger pouring from her eyes. The Crow flapped harder, Pyra trying her hardest to jump across buildings and keep her legs moving. In the distance, the sight of the Crow tipping a water tower could be seen. New York streets always being busy, the tower toppled over the peak. Pyra leaped off the side, now underneath the tower that was hurling downwards. She had one last trick up her sleeve, one with the potential to save the dozens of civilians who were currently in danger below. An ability so dangerous Pyra was rarely ever spotted using it.

She pointed her hands at the tower, flames coming from the middle of her palms and engulfing the steel. Vapor floated upwards, the steel turning into nothing from the scorching heat. Pyra maneuvered her body towards the nearest walls, thin claws coming from the fingertips of her gloves. She jabbed her fingers into the brick, her arm sockets feeling a tug as she slid down in decreasing speed. Once stopped, she quickly used her tool to climb the side of the building until she reached the top. Staring at the heavens, the Crow was nowhere in sight. His escape was clear. Pyra sighed in failure.