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𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁
"In five, four, three, two..."
𝟏𝟕 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐎
A neatly trimmed man in a woolen overcoat and gloves stands before a news crew. A swarm of reporters like himself behind him all crowd around the blocked off entrance to a large bank.
"This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown member of hostages."
•·······•·······•
A surly and bulky man, presumably the kingpin of the robbery, marches through the marble halls of the bank. His radio is to his ear and as he turns the corner into the main lobby, he spots the crowd of hostages. His face grows red as veins pop from his forehead. He waves his gun between them and his men, barking orders.
"Hey, get them behind the counter!" His booming voice echoes off the granite, breaking through the shrill security alarm and he returns to his radio. "Now you've put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't wanna do. Hmm?"
The words that carry from the radio and into his ear feed his fury, and he all but throws the device to the ground. "Shit!"
He can't see her yet, but a young girl approaches his side, her hands tucked behind her and a skip in her step. She wears a crimson and deep navy blue school uniform, a domino mask, and a mischievous smile. She hasn't a single care in the world as she comes to stand beside the man, and she watches disinterestedly as the small sea of hostages are being herded throughout the bank. Finally sensing her presence, the man turns to her baffled but quickly plays it off in a threatening tone as he towers over her and waves his gun.
"Hey, get with the others."
She simply smiles sweetly up at him, before a look of exaggerated shock rakes her gaze up and down his person. "I heard a rumor."
"What?" He spits, stepping forward, trying at no avail to intimidate a young Allison Hargreeves. "What did you say?"
Her grin stretched across her face as her first persuasion comes to mind, all thanks to the masked accomplice wandering into her peripheral vision. She leans in close, palm to her face, and curiosity draws him in as she shares her "secret".
"I heard a rumor," she said, the workings of her abilities already affecting the weak-minded man. "that you shot your friend in the foot."
A foggy white hue flashes his eyes as her words take his mind hostage, and in a daze, he looks to his gun cocking it. His handgun and gaze zero in on the masked accomplice who's attention has just been drawn by the click, an apprehensive expression takes hold of his feature as he looks at his boss.
