Winsome Blue/She Runs

From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe

It wasn't her fault. At least that's what she kept telling herself. The evidence, however, was damning, so she ran. What Kima had said to her so long ago rose to the surface, her own accusatory voice mixing with his in a symphony of emotional anguish. As she arrived at her destination, a corner of the war wall in Atlas Park, a growling sob escaped. Then she kept growling, her pain becoming slightly visible as mental tendrils sought out something, anything, to pay for what was happening.

Vahzilok far below her fell almost instantly as she withered their minds into nothingness. It went no further, however; the tendrils reined in as she stood panting and shivering. That had felt good.

She wanted to feel good. She wanted to block out the image of Zoe, slamming against the side of a floating mountain only to drop unconscious. She wanted to forget seeing Deus damaged before her, suffering a broken leg on top of all his ills.

What was done was done. She'd run from it and they'd tell Mike. She had dreamed this. Her brother had been there. It angered her that he'd told Deus about it. It angered her because despite what he'd said the dream was right. She had become the monster. No matter what either of those two men said, they couldn't change what she felt and what she couldn't help doing.

Her eyes glanced down at her comm and she removed it. She'd give it to someone. Have them return it for her. Blue was far from worthy to be a part of Tangent, to serve as a crew member beside her brother. Beyond that, she knew what she felt like doing and she'd do it. Her heart sped up with the excitement of it. She'd deal out justice the way it should be. What had happened to Deus and Zoe and even Mike would happen to those who deserved it.

Lifting into the air, she took off, flying quickly home. Zarp hadn't been home in weeks, maybe a month. She was alone. Making some phone calls, she sought out a costume designer she'd used while working in the sex business. They hashed out what she wanted as she packed a few things, taking only what was necessary. Then she was out the door yet again, not even bothering to lock it or make sure it was tightly latched. It was urgent. This … what did Deus call it.... hunger - was building within. She growled softly, the sound causing those near her to step away. Once outside she flew again, just as quickly as before.

She stopped only once, landing near a Circle of Thorn gathering. They were mid-ritual when she destroyed the mind of two, then sliced the throat of another. Their victim turned and ran, afraid nearly as much of the woman who'd saved her as she had been of the mages. Blue was fine with that. She only growled, glaring. Her eyes finished turning solid pink, glowing faintly.

Scared. They should be.

She cut a swatch across zones, leaving death in her wake, minds reformatted and wiped while others had their throats ripped out. Bodies dropping while blood sprays. Blue's eyes never lost the pink. Instead they grew brighter the greater her kill count. Eventually reports came in, bodies were brought to the morgue with the same kinds of wounds - brains melted, vital arteries cut. The freed victim gave the PPD a sketch to work with.

She headed to Nerva. Once there she found a few of Krane's people. The man who'd wrought nothing but evil to those around him, who'd stolen children, murdered one of her girls and always got away with it, would be punished. Someone had to pay. She slaughtered those she found. By now she was covered with blood. Some of it was her own as occasionally they had a few minutes to fight back before she overpowered them or got in that final slice.

A monster. That's what she was. She was winning. Against what or who she didn't know for sure but there was this sense of accomplishment.

She cleaned up where she could, changing her clothes so that she could go retrieve the suit she'd ordered. There was decency enough to hide who she was for the rest of this. If anything so that Mike would not be ashamed. At least not more than he already was or would be.

Once in the suit her rampage began with an external joy and internal sorrow.

It was later she realized she still had her comm.

-Later-

She huddled in a small corner of the abandoned ramshackle building. It hadn't been abandoned fifteen minutes ago. Drug dealers with the side profession of pimp had settled it years ago as the command center for their small enterprise. They'd made a hefty profit and had some good times with the freebies they demanded from their street girls. Fifteen minutes ago they'd been making a killing in the Isles, loving their lives.

Fourteen minutes ago the killing had come to them. Now they had no lives left to love.

Entering through the back, after gutting their lookout, she'd systematically stalked and then slaughtered them all. Nine men and two women.

They'd died quickly enough. Blue's mind had held them all in place as she did what she wanted: claws raking over and removing the genitals of two, a claw slowly slicing across one woman's throat, her unable to even reach for it as she bled out. Still another man screamed as she dove into his mind, focusing white hot pain as her mental tendrils lashed at what truly made him human and then utterly destroyed it.

Each watched their companions' torture and their eyes showed fear. That fear fueled her rage, causing her to laugh even as the life drained from them. Yet even as the chilling sound of that laugh echoed in the room, there was, behind the mask and veil she'd chosen to wear, the eyes of someone equally tortured in her own way.

With the wave of a hand she let those still alive fall. They scrambled away from the bodies of their comrades, slipping and sliding on the blood. More fell to the tendrils of her mind and the last was sliced to ribbons. They fought back just as she'd wanted them to. A knife slid into her side, leaving an inch long gash that dribbled the hot red liquid that joined the already drying and congealing lake of it on the floor. Her hood fell back, hands grabbed at her hair and yanked. The last. A woman. Blue had just turned to her when a laptop hit the side of her face. It's corner struck her cheek and left eye, sending sparkles to dance in front of her eyes. It didn't daunt her, however, but it did spur her to greater anger.

The woman should have run.

Letting out a growl Blue entwined a clawed hand into the woman's hair, yanking her forward till the mask's nose was bumping against her victim's. “You shouldn't have.”

It hurt. Blue's vision was blurry and half her face was numb. The wound in her side throbbed with fiery pain. The pink of her eyes lit up the features of the pathetic prey who stood before her. Fear took over, blocking out any instinct to fight. Gloria. That was the name she'd heard the other call her before Blue had begun her attack.

“Gloria... this is where you hurt. Where you die.” Blue's mind lanced through Gloria's mind, fear turning to terror as mental tendrils whipped around inside her thoughts, lashing out violently. Gloria's body began to shudder and Blue licked her lips. Had she been able to call upon her Felix form she wouldn't hesitate to bite out the woman's throat, to taste the flesh and blood and revel in the satisfaction of a kill.

But she'd had it stripped away years before. What was left of it had its place but the loss of shifting was still that - a loss. A painful hole that she pushed away.

Blue's hand shot forward, claws extended. She felt flesh tear as she sunk those claws into the woman. Her blood spilled, dropping to the floor with small patters. Drip. Drop. Drip. With a snarl, the predator tossed away her prey, removing herself from the now empty shell of what had been a living being.

Standing there, chest heaving, she surveyed her mess. Men. Women. Death.

Lifting her blood-soaked, glove-covered hands she stared at them. They began to tremble. But the trembling didn't start there. It flooded through her entire body. A growl rose in her throat, a pitiful growl that turned into a whimper as she retreated step by step until her back found wall and she could go no further. Sliding down she found herself in that corner, huddling.

Now it was she who was being tortured. Beyond the injuries she fought the desire and need to go farther, to find someone immediately that deserved to die. More than that though she felt... something else.

She'd attacked others. Part of her screamed that they deserved it but she knew better. However that didn't change anything. She had still nearly killed people she cared about. Her mind, her claws and her telekinetic power had been brought to bear against them.

Mike. What had she done to him? What would she do to him if he found her again? He didn't understand. He was her brother but beyond that he had to understand, had to know that this was what she was. Being in his mind... it had felt good. It had felt good to have the hero back away, to make him squirm. While she had railed against the idea that it had been her attacking him mentally she knew now that it was true. The truth was that she wanted to do it again.

Deus. She wished him here. She'd left him nearly dead but her heart beat faster at the idea of raw uncensored combat. Blood, fight and risk of death. That's what their battles always had. This time he'd been pathetic, hurt by others before she'd even got to him. There'd been no challenge and that had only spurred her anger. He was a disappointment. He was the most like her. She'd asked him to kill with her but he'd refused to go as far. He'd offered to comfort her, to hold her while she healed from whatever he thought was wrong. He'd tempted her and even now she couldn't help but growl at the memory of his temptation so innocently issued. Or was it innocent? He was one of the few who could smell her needs, her sexual desire. That too was at a peak, flooding over her like a waterfall whenever she's been around... anyone, actually, but stronger in certain situations. So far she'd kept control. She had to.

However the desire for sex was minimal to the hunger for the fight, for blood, for death and punishment. She wanted to punish both of them. They had placed that hat on her head. They'd stripped her down to nothing! Taken away the very mental powers that were her - her being, her essence. Far beyond a dampener that muffled and let her sleep it was an abomination. How dare they make her suffer!

In her small corner of the blood spattered room she curled up into as tight a ball as possible, tears spilling. She ripped off the mask and threw it. It hit the floor with a soft thud and skid in the drying blood, only to come to stop against one of the dead bodies. The glow of her solid pink eyes lit up the entire room. It cast a different hue on the contents, as if they were but graphics in a video game. Reaching a hand up she pushed her hood off, letting it rest on her shoulders. The veil that covered her mouth was tugged down.

Zoe. Zoe had removed the hat. Then Blue had hurt her too. Her cousin and a healer. She'd done nothing but good, trying to help. But her power had been amazing and part of Blue wanted to rip that power away, to see the teenager writhe and wriggle under an assault she could not defend wholeheartedly against.

Xeno. She knew little about him. Pushing him off a roof had done nothing since he could teleport. He too she wanted to make hurt. She didn't know why but his defiance only fueled her desire.

Nelo. He was right. He knew her. He knew her longer than anyone else, even Kris. From the pub. They'd slept together, they'd danced, they'd played. He was a shifter, having a wolven form, and she'd been attracted to him. Back then she'd wanted to be his mate. But he'd chosen someone else and she'd moved on. But he still loved her. They didn't talk much and hadn't even kept in contact while she was in Dubai. Since coming back they'd talked only briefly, her marriage not making much difference for him.

She'd hurt him and, just like the others, he'd refused to back off. Blue had warned him yet he had kept coming. No matter that she'd held him in place, drew blood with her claws and assaulted his mind. Why didn't they stop when she told them to! She was a monster, a terrible monster. Yet they didn't believe it. Her power was greater, stronger and only increasing. It was so hard to control!

Her eyes took in the scene around her. Bloodlust deep inside rose to the surface. Too much thinking! Arching her back she inhaled sharply, chest heaving. More. Nothing appeased it. And yet... she hadn't actually killed any of those close. Not for lack of trying- at least for one person.

Kris. Blue had almost killed her best friend, her best girl. After knocking her unconscious she'd used her abilities to toss the mechanic out of the crumbling building where Deus had gone to recover. The fall should have killed the southern woman. However it didn't. Kris had survived and there was a fraction of Blue's self that reveled in that knowledge, savored it even. While the sexual attraction towards Kris wasn't as strong as towards the men she was encountering it was still there. When Kris had slapped Blue she responded to the extreme. The touch had ignited a fight instinct but Kris wasn't like her. She had to turn the dampener on, trying to keep Blue at bay. She'd even called in Rodney, one of her bots, but Blue had taken care of him. Blue thrust enough power at Kris to burn out the dampener and overwhelm her mind. Having her close had brought up every defense and every territorial instinct possible. Deus was HERS. Even though Blue kept herself in check and was refusing to act on her desires having another woman there, one whom Blue herself was attracted to, was not acceptable. So she did what she had to do to get rid of her.

Now, knowing that Kris hadn't died touched the part of Blue that was glad- a small presence that was fading. That fact pained her!

Oh how it did. No one should survive! Her skin crawled at the inability to finish, at the killing blow she'd tried to give but failed at. They all said this wasn't her. Beyond the revenge and the protection they said she wouldn't take the final step. But they were wrong. She HAD meant to kill Kris.

Would she have killed Deus if Mr. Zen hadn't of shown up? He'd let her go, keeping her from being given over to Mike, shutting down the comm that Deus had activated. Why? Some part she had to play? What did he know? She spasmed as she realized the opportunity she let slip by. She should have confronted HIM! That man, that dark matter being, deserved more of her wrath than any of them. He knew more. ALWAYS knew more.

Closing her eyes she fought back the urge to run. She had nowhere to run. She'd already found herself in the Isles, hiding in a costume that wasn't her. A look far from the usual tight pants, tank top and bandanna.

“Please...” she mumbled to herself. Pleading with nothing, with everything. Thus began a monologue, a conversation between herself and the stiffening bodies.

She stood, pressing herself against the wall almost as if she were being attacked. Her eyes darted everywhere, full of emotions. The air vibrated with her mental energy, palpable and unstable.

“Ya don't fuckin' understand! Ya don't. I FEEL it inside. Inside me!” Her fingers scrambled at her suit, wanting to be out of it. It held true, being well made. “This... this person. That shell is so damn broken and it's free. I'm free and maybe.. maybe I don't want to be? But even when I'm sayin' it... it's like champagne in my flesh, in my blood, and I'm hungry! I'm starvin'!” She snarled, sending out telekinetic blasts left and right. Windows shattered, glass flying out into the street. Wood splintered and stone flew. Growls and screams from within exploded from her mouth.

Finally it was too much. Swiping up her mask she replaced it, lifted her hood and readjusted her veil. With mental energy to burn and sexual energy to squelch she sought out more victims, flying out one of the holes she'd made in the side of the building. What remorse might have been visible was gone.

Not much later there began another fourteen minutes. In another place. With all new prey.

Her moment of weakness had passed.