𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙄 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙈𝙮 𝙀𝙮𝙚𝙨 || ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʳᵒᵍᵉʳˢ

Chapter 3⏤Antropophagus

a n t r o p o p h a g u s

With the dawning realization of her newfound abilities, Carter felt a tumult of emotions stirring within her. The pain from her head wound seemed inconsequential now, overshadowed by the awe and fear of the power that thrummed through her veins. For years, she had navigated the world's shadows, a mere spectator to the darkness. Now, it appeared, she had become its master.

Her initial terror at these strange abilities gave way to a steely resolve. If the world had taught her anything, it was that power—no matter how bizarre—was a tool. And like any tool, its value lay in how it was wielded. The memories of what she had lost, the faces and voices that haunted her dreams, sharpened her focus. The amulet, with its mysterious, stormy depths, had chosen her for a reason. Or perhaps, in her persistent dance with the night, she had unwittingly chosen it.

The first rays of dawn began to seep through the cracks of the dilapidated building, painting the world in hues of gold and gray. Carter stood in the center of her makeshift home, the moonlight casting her shadow long and twisted at her feet. She considered the irony of it all; the darkness had been her cloak, her shield against the world's prying eyes, and now it offered her something more—a weapon.

She needed to understand the extent of her abilities, to control them so they did not control her. The thought of blending into the shadows, of moving unseen, or seeing through the veil of night as if it were daylight, opened up a realm of possibilities. She could be the specter that haunted the wicked, the avenger of her own fractured past. But more than revenge, there was a cause now—a purpose that transcended her own losses. The city, teeming with its own shadows, cried out for someone to traverse its hidden paths, to right the wrongs that went unseen by the glaring lights.

Carter packed the few belongings she had into her backpack, the weight of her decision anchoring her resolve. She would start by tracking down the thief who had robbed her, not just for retribution, but as a test of her newfound prowess. From there, who knew how far her shadow could stretch?

As the sun crested the horizon, Carter stepped out from her building, not as a victim of the night, but as its ally. The city stretched before her, a landscape ripe with secrets and sins. She knew the Avengers, those faceless entities that had stripped her of everything, were out there. Perhaps they were not even aware of her existence yet. But they would. Oh, they would. And when they finally realized, it would be too late.

For Carter, the darkness was no longer a refuge; it was her domain. And within it, she would find her redemption, or she would become its vengeance incarnate. The path was uncertain, fraught with dangers both known and unimaginable. Yet, for the first time in a long while, Carter felt a spark of something fierce and indomitable within her.

The shadows beckoned, and Carter, with a determined step, vanished into the morning mist, a ghost in the light, a warrior in the dark.

Carter nestled into a booth at the back of the diner, a place not too far from the school she used to attend. It was a spot soaked in nostalgia, each corner filled with echoes of her past. The day had been long, spent scrounging for enough money to afford a decent meal, and now, surrounded by memories, she finally felt a momentary reprieve.

As she glanced around, lost in thought, a voice snapped her back to the present. "Hello, what can I get you?" A waitress stood by the table, her smile wide and genuine, as if bad days were foreign to her. The nametag pinned to her apron read 'Grace'.