This...This was the feeling that Vicki lived for. The coursing adrenaline in her blood, the elastic spring of the canvas, the weight and heft of her gloves, the rush of imminent competition. This was how the modern warrior did battle: boxing. The stench of sweat and musk filled her nostrils, but all Vicki could focus on was sizing up her opponent.
Stepping through the ropes was a lithe Black American, his muscles rippling beneath a charcoal tank-top. The young man began to bounce from one foot to the other, his red and white jersey shorts whipping from the motion, and shook his arms and shoulders to loosen up. The swagger and confidence from the new guy was palpable. This was Vicki’s first time seeing him, not to mention her first time sparring against him, but she was sure she could take him out.
The trainers placed the face protectors on Vicki and her opponent Don, red on Vicki, blue on Don, and the two stepped forward. Vicki lead with her right foot, elbows glued to her chest, her fists guarding her face. Don slowly advanced, forcing Vicki to back up. He threw a few swipes, testing how Vicki would respond. She easily dodged each hit by bending her back backwards, then shifted her weight onto her left foot, getting in a low jab to Don’s right set of ribs with her left arm. He recoiled in pain, visibly wincing.
“Nice shot,” Don commented, backing off.
Vicki smirked at the newbie, “
Yup.”
A few strands of Vicki’s snow-white bangs fell in front of her eyes. Deciding to fight through the obstruction, she stepped forward, striking at Don’s forearms guarding his chest, trying to goad him into counterattacking. The inexperienced young man took the bait, sending a wild haymaker at Vicki, opening up his left side. Vicki sidestepped to the right, punching at his head. The hit connected, the force echoing up through Vicki’s arm. Unfortunately, Don didn’t reel back in pain like Vicki expected. Instead, Don rolled with the hit, his right arm primed for a swift uppercut, and hooked it straight into Vicki’s gut.
He got her good. Vicki shuffled back, her body bent forward in agony. As she was trying to hold back vomit, Vicki could hear Don laughing. She got cocky, and now he was getting cocky.
Vicki gave out a small giggle,”
Yeah...yeah, that was good. Nice hit.” She threw her head back, grinning wide, with one eye still winced from the pain. Her open eye seemed to sparkle with something...scary.
Vicki put her gloves up and began to approach, her gait full of menacing purpose. She began to strike multiple blows at Don’s guard again, pushing him back towards the ropes. He tried to punch at Vicki’s openings, but she simply sidestepped each attempt and began a flurry of jabs on his lower torso. Desperate to get in a hit, Don pulled back his right arm and shot it forward like a cannon. Vicki ducked underneath the massive attack, the powerful blow grazing some of her hairs on top, and released a savage uppercut to Don’s chin. Her fist connected like a rocket smashing into the moon. The young man was hanging on the ropes now, blood pouring from the corners of his lips. Don's arms moved instinctively to protect his injured jaw, leaving his chest wide open.
Vicki pulled her right arm back as far as she could, priming it like a slingshot. Focusing all of her weight and momentum into the balled fist, Vi swung forward at the center of Don’s chest. In mid-flight, Vicki could a sort of energy, a sort of power, fill her arm, as if water was being poured into a glass.
Her fist collided like a car slamming into a wall, a blast of wind seeming to emanate from the point of impact. As if in slow motion, Vicki saw Don shoot back away from her, breaking the ropes completely. The flailing boy flew across the room, barely missing gym goers, sending equipment flying in every direction. Don broke through a window on the far side of the gym facing the street.
Vicki’s eyes went wide, still leaning forward with her arm tensed, extended out. Every face in the gym turned to look at her, jaws dropped in confusion. From an office in the back corner, a large hulking figure entered the room. Vicki’s father.
“Vicki?”
4 in the building. There’s at least 5 more out there. Across the street from the apartment building, a lone figure stood atop a building, his face and dress exceedingly average in appearance. From his perch, Raze had a clear view of any one that would enter and exit the building. Only workers and employees of the building could use the back entrance at this time of day, so to find who he wanted, Raze would spot them if they went into the building.
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The prior day was a strange one for Raze. Every morning before heading to his private practice, Raze stopped by a little cafe. He always felt uncomfortable going in, Raze was usually the oldest person in there by far. The awkward tension was worth trudging through though: Cafe WiHi sold the best coffee in Darkwell. Yesterday though...on his usual route, an injured man stumbled out of a nearby alley, startling Raze. He chased after the injured man and witnessed him fall through the front door of the cafe. Stopping across the street, Raze observed from a distance, concluding that running in after a dying man would look incriminating.
Watching through the cafe’s doors, he saw what most would consider as impossible: a glimpse of a shield with a ram carving, the icy wings of a cryophoenix, and the distortion of a man’s figure, all in one small, closed location. Any other person would have passed it off as just seeing things, or maybe even cosplayers, but it was too much of a coincidence that Raze began manifesting powers of his own that day.
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Raze was awoken that morning by one of his clients requesting an emergency session. Grudgingly, Raze agreed to meet the client at his office. This man disgusted Raze at his core; he refused to acknowledge he was a terrible husband and father, and has been cheating with a teacher’s aid at the local university. This man was sickening, a manifestation of the plight of humanity. He deserved to be stamped out, obliterated from the face of the universe.
Raze kept fuming over this pitiful man, dreading the two hours he would have to spend listening to him make absolutely no progress. Standing in front of his mirror, Raze’s anger reached a climax: he raised his fist to strike the wall. Instead, a spear appeared in a flash of pale-green balefire, embedding itself into the wall. Awestruck, Raze looked into the mirror, further astonished by his reflection's new, gruesome visage: a burning skull wrapped in a sickly inferno stared back at Raze.
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As soon as Raze saw the others in that cafe, he knew he wasn't alone. He had to join them and reveal that he was a kindred soul, displaying his new powers for them to see.
Before he could rush into the cafe, sirens began to approach. Wishing to avoid suspicion, Raze melted into the shadows of a nearby alley. The man with a distorted outline left the cafe, seeming to shift and teleport from one place to another like a flipbook, rather than running in one smooth motion.
Raze waited around to see what the others would do. From his hiding place, Raze spotted one man, a blonde in his mid- to late-twenties, handing out business cards before leaving the cafe. Obviously, he wanted the powered bunch to keep in contact. Once the blonde was far enough, Raze emerged and tailed him.
Raze followed him all the way to an apartment building, likely where the blonde man lived. Raze concluded that he could either wait to see if any one else from the cafe showed up here, or wait until the blonde left and Raze could continue tailing him. Buying snacks and a blanket from a nearby store, Raze began his long vigil atop a building.
He didn't even go home that night. Raze fell asleep for a short time, but was quickly awoken by a scuffle down on the street. Raze peered over the ledge, seeing a man assaulting a woman, trying to steal her purse.
Raze stared for a few seconds, pondering what to do. Here was another fine specimen of human filth that deserved to be punished, and Raze finally had the power to act on this judgement.
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Raze heard the shattering of glass from down the street. Was that the gym? It might have been the local hiking equipment store, it was hard to say. Regardless, Raze didn’t have time to investigate; he could see some other people from the cafe walking towards the apartment building, likely here to meet with the other powered people. All he would need to do is take the same elevator as them, or walk the same staircase, and he could find where the others were.
Taking one final glimpse over the edge, Raze stared at a green dumpster in the alleyway.
Hopefully no one looks in there any time soon. Hidden from sight, Raze had stored in the dumpster the corpse of the mugger, ravaged by an otherworldly spear.
