The video's last moments were tense: the bloodied face of Taylor Hebert shouting soundlessly; the image whirling as Armsmasters turned to run. It stopped abruptly on an uncolored dawn, the first morning rays just breaking over the frozen neighbourhood.
"That was the final transmission uploaded to Armsmaster's server before..." Dragon fell quiet, her voice choked. There was a slight burst of static before she spoke again. "Do you need anything more?"
Chief Director Costa-Brown cleared her throat. "Not for now, thank you. Dismissed."
Dragon's avatar winked offline silently.
Pages flipped and people murmured as everyone tried to digest what they just watched. Assistants scrambled around the room, taking notes from their bosses and passing instructions via fervent whispers through their phones. A director stepped out to take a call.
Rebecca wanted to close her eyes and rub at the mild ache behind her temple. She pressed her thumb against her coffee cup instead, feeling the cool ceramic. Her coffee had long since grown cold.
"Do we have a count?" she asked, turning to her assistant.
"Director Piggot says they're still finalizing the numbers with the City Council, but they're estimating at least 15 thousand people trapped in the bubble."
Rebecca closed her eyes for a second. A dead hush muted the room as the numbers settled in.
"Knox. What's the latest from WATCHDOG?"
The head of PRT intelligence looked rumpled. His tie was slightly askew, hastily tied with the top buttons undone, and his eyes looked bleary as he peered over his glasses at her.
"We're working on it. I've activated all assets across the country and raised this matter as priority zero but as we know, Scion's been generally immune to all Thinker powers." He shuffled through the papers in his hand briefly. "From satellite records, around 0318 hours last night Scion suddenly deviated from his projected path over Western Perth and flew straight towards Brockton Bay, touching down shortly at 0403. This is also the first time in the last decade he's ever travelled so quickly."
"3:18am?" James Tagg remarked. "What time did Armsmaster meet Taylor Hebert?"
"Just the minute before." Knox turned to look at his fellow director. "That was the exact moment when Taylor Hebert supposedly travelled through time in front of Armsmaster. Of course, it's still too early to say for sure but... our working theory is that that event was the trigger for Scion."
Rebecca watched as Tagg leaned back in his chair, his brows furrowed. "What about Hebert herself?" she interrupted. "Do we have any information on her?"
Knox gestured to a thin woman next to him. She jerked up, her eyes wide and nervous as she fumbled hurriedly with her laptop. "Err, right, yes! We've managed to—"
"Anna Newbell, the lead agent in charge of history and tracing," Knox cut in with a quick introduction. He looked at her for a moment and she nodded.
"Yes, sorry." She took a deep breath. "Taylor Anne Hebert. She used to be a student at Winslow High. Withdrew from school a few weeks ago. Father, Danny Hebert, was in the Dockworkers' Union. Her mother, Annette Hebert, died 3 years ago in a car accident."
Newbell paused, taking a quick sip of water. "Please note, this is all preliminary. The video image quality from Armsmaster's feed was not the best and we don't have a clean shot of the woman there to compare. But as best as we can tell, a woman deeply resembling the late Annette Hebert was present in the house last night before Scion destroyed it."
"As far as power projections go, we'll leave it to Catherine's team for more precise analysis," Knox picked up smoothly, nodding towards PRT's head scientist.
"Let's not beat around the bush." James Tagg jumped in, setting his mug down with a loud clap. The room turned quiet. "Taylor Hebert can time travel. And in a significant manner since she's obviously also saved her mother somehow. We don't need Catherine to confirm that she's dangerous."
"She's
potent," Catherine Kim corrected sharply. "All powers can be dangerous given the right circumstances but we hardly have enough time or data to make such wild conclusions about Taylor Hebert."
"The right circumstances?" Tagg folded his arms as he looked at his colleague over the large table. The dark circles around his eyes made them look wild. "This isn't flying fast or punching hard. She
manipulates time. A tinker's most valuable resource is time and she literally controls it. The world could have already been altered and we would never know it."
"Hysteria looks poor for your argument, Tagg." Catherine nodded towards Newbell, who looked tense as eyes drifted over to her for a moment. "History still has her mother dying in a car crash, even if she was somehow rescued. Again, we have no idea how her tech functions or how it is set up."
"A whole neighbourhood's trapped in time because of that tech," Tagg replied quietly, his voice tight with anger. "I'm pretty sure she just surpassed Gray Boy's kill count in one night."
Catherine scoffed. "Scion interfered with the machine, that much is apparent from the video. We still have no idea what happened at the end! There are too many factors and too little information. It'll take time for us to investigate this matter properly."
"We might not have time for you to do that, Catherine." Rebecca's hands were clasped in front of her as she looked at the scientist, then the room. "Today, we're all processing and responding, and the public will do the same. But tomorrow they'll want answers, and we need to establish the facts before someone else can. Glenn?"
Glenn Chambers looked worse than his usual dishevelled-ness as he cleared his throat. "I suggest we keep it neutral. Taylor Hebert was a rogue tinker with a specialty in time manipulation. Due to an unforeseen power interaction between her and Scion, there was a malfunction in her technology that led to, well..." Chambers trailed off as he mouthed some words silently. One hand reached up to grab a tie that wasn't there. He sighed. "I'll have to think of a good word to describe the mess we have. Next, the PRT is still investigating the circumstance that led up to this and we will be sharing our findings at a more appropriate time later. For now, the PRT's top priority is disabling the time bubble and rescuing the people trapped inside."
"I just want to caution, we might never really know what caused Scion to attack the Hebert residence," Knox said, looking directly at his colleague. "The man doesn't speak, doesn't interact with anyone, and he's inscrutable to all Thinker readings. Those answers you promise might be just a nice 'we don't know'."
"That's fine," Glenn assured. "As I said, the key point is the part where the PRT is working to fix the situation."
"There might be no 'fix'," Tagg said. "We didn't have a fix for Gray Boy either."
Glenn's smile turned noticeably more strained as he turned to Tagg. "His bubbles, as I understand, were considerably smaller. And correct me if I'm wrong, Catherine, but the mechanics of parahuman powers can be fundamentally very different even if they look superficially similar, yes?"
Catherine nodded slowly, although she looked troubled. "Yes, they can be. We should know more after the research group has been deployed. Currently, Armstrong is organizing them over at Boston before sending them over."
"They're expected to arrive in Brockton before noon, right?" Rebecca looked down, flipping through a document. "How long do they need before they can give us an estimate?"
"We'll get you something by midnight tonight," she replied carefully. "But it might not be comprehensive and many details will change as we investigate further."
"Alright. Oh, do you have anyone following up on the time difference in the video as well? I looked out for it, but I can't seem to pinpoint when it happened."
A sudden hush followed her words. Rebecca glanced up to see her directors looking at her strangely.
"What do you mean?" Catherine asked carefully. "What time difference?"
Rebecca looked at her science director strangely. "Scion reached Hebert's residence just after 4am, when it was still dark. But we can see that the video ends at sunrise," she said slowly, spreading her palms out flat onto the table. Her brows furrowed as she watched her directors struggle to answer. "2 hours passed somehow for a fight that only lasted 10 minutes. Did none of you notice?"
Catherine flipped through her notes again, wincing as she tried to read through the information again. "It feels obvious when you say it, but thinking about it is actually giving me a headache." She shook her head, before hastily grabbing a pen to scribble something on her notes. "This might be some kind of side effect of the time manipulation. It's as if you can't keep hold of the thought in your head."
"The girl is dangerous," Tagg said tersely as he rubbed his temples. "I'll have my men check the archives, see if we have anyone similar to her. Maybe we'll be able to find a similar powerset to better understand her tech."
"I'll set a team on this." Catherine exhaled. "This could also be some sort of power interaction between her and Scion."
Tagg shook his head. "Not necessarily. The explosion was at the end of the video, after—" he stifled a hiss "—we saw that it was morning."
The Chief Director was quiet for a moment.
"Knox. Have your thinkers focus on this with Catherine's team instead. We need to understand the missing time better. Catherine. I need a report on this and the bubble ready by tonight. Glenn, your team will be on standby. Prepare a few variations depending on the severity of the time-bubble and I'll decide after the science team updates," Rebecca ordered, quickly and efficiently. "We'll take 10 here. Instruct your people. We have a long day ahead of us."
Feet shuffled and notes gathered as everyone moved and stretched. Rebecca turned to her assistant.
"Tell Emily to be ready. We'll dial her in from here," she said before stepping out of the room. Someone held the door for her and she nodded absently.
She moved into her office, quietly locking it behind her. The sky was a bright, cloudless blue and the morning still young, casting tall shadows that leaped building to building.
Rebecca closed the curtains before pulling out a small phone from her inner breast pocket. She flipped it open and dialled, tapping her foot as it rang.
"Rebecca," The Number Man greeted her.
"Have you seen the news?" she said without preamble. "I tried to call an hour ago, but no one picked up."
"I saw," Kurt replied. Rebecca frowned as she heard the tension in his voice.
"What happened?"
"Unfortunately you might have to handle things solo for a while." There was some movement from his side; Rebecca could hear the rustle of clothes and the little squeak of a chair. "Contessa was attacked this morning."
"What?!"
"We don't know the specifics. She was badly injured and David had to put her in a healing coma."
Rebecca sat down heavily. "You're gonna have to run that by me again."
Kurt sighed and chuckled humorlessly. "I found her in a pool of blood, her legs sliced clean off. I think she dived through a portal and closed it before completely making it through.
"She deliberately cut off her own legs?"
"Seems so. Which means her assailant must have been overwhelmingly powerful." He suddenly changed the subject. "And speaking of— I saw the PRT reports. In fact, multiple news networks are all broadcasting live from Brockton Bay now."
Rebecca leaned back, her head sinking into the soft leather. "You think Hebert is still alive. You think she attacked Contessa." It wasn't a question.
"It would be a great coincidence otherwise," Kurt said blandly. "I haven't had the chance to watch the video from Armsmaster yet. But complete mastery of time sounds incredibly powerful. Powerful enough to catch Contessa off guard."
"Why would she attack us? Scion killed her family." Rebecca stood and started pacing. She glanced at the clock; she only had a few minutes left.
"Enemy of the enemy should be friends," he agreed readily. "But we don't know what happened to her. More importantly, we don't know how long it's been for her. People change."
Rebecca wanted to punch something. She exhaled through her nose instead, closing her eyes. "How's Contessa now?"
"Healing. Slowly. David managed to find a set of powers in time but it's slow and requires his constant attention. He doesn't dare risk looking for a better one. The Custodian is on high alert and Doctor Mother is checking up on the garden, just in case."
"Alright." Rebecca tapped her foot, once. The clock on her wall ticked loudly in the silence. "I have to go wrangle the PRT response, hopefully, keep them away from poking Scion."
"Rebecca." A rush of air crackled through the receiver.
"What?"
"Did you ever consider why Scion attacked Taylor Hebert in the first place?"
"No..." Rebecca replied slowly. "What do you mean?"
"Her powers," Kurt started before stopping. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "We've mixed time-based powers before. We've observed the same for natural triggers. None of them come close to what Taylor Hebert has."
"So a second trigger, then? A possible third?"
Kurt didn't reply directly. "If she really did travel years into the past, that would need an impossible amount of energy to do. Impossible, maybe, even for the Entities."
The hair on Rebecca's neck prickled as she straightened up. "What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked carefully.
"Just..." Kurt trailed off for a second. "Be careful, Rebecca."
Before she could reply, there was a loud knock. "We're ready for you, Chief Director," her assistant called through the door.
Rebecca stood up, smoothing down her blazer. "I will. Let me know if there's any new updates."
They hung up.
Rebecca returned to the meeting room with her assistant. Tagg caught her gaze as she walked in, sipping his coffee slowly.
Emily Piggot was on the screen.
"Emily." Rebecca settled into her seat, cracking open the new file her assistant handed to her. "How's the situation?"
"Frankly, we don't have enough men to secure the perimeter. Power and utilities in the city are in a mess now, plus we're getting more and more confirmations of our own trapped in the bubble. We're working with city police but they're running even more shorthanded than us." The director looked drained as she shuffled the papers in her hands. "I also have more bad news. New Wave got caught in the bubble."
"As in Panacea?" Knox straightened up. "How did you confirm that?"
"Their house is on the edge. Glory Girl came in this morning..."
Rebecca listened absently as Piggot spoke, looking down at the file in her hands. There was a picture of Scion attached. He was hovering just above the grey bubble, sitting crossed-legged in the air, naked.
She traced his silhouette, her nail scraping against the smooth photo paper.
Everything we've worked for. Was it now?
"Chief?"
Rebecca looked up. "Arrange for a counsellor for Glory Girl. Give their address to the science team; if they're near the perimeter maybe they can do something. Panacea and New Wave have priority." She closed the file. "Now, let's discuss Scion. Do you have any surveillance on him? What's his latest status?"
***
Sophia jerked awake, groaning as the sun pierced her eyes. She pushed herself up slowly, feeling her back crack as she stretched herself out. She checked her watch; it was broken somehow, reading 6:00am when it was clearly not. Sophia rubbed her head, feeling the straps of her mask surreptitiously; nothing seemed out of place.
Falling asleep on a stakeout — sloppy. Sophia shook her head. Emma told her there'd been a spate of robberies in the upscale boutique stores near her neighbourhood so she thought she would extend her patrol here, shoot some fools.
She peered over the rooftop, down into the street. Nothing seemed broken into, but everything was strangely quiet. Maybe next time she'd take up Emma's offer, bring her along to help on stakeouts. Shit was too boring to do alone anyway.
Then she noticed it.
A massive gray bubble, looming over the bay, cutting a neat, grey semicircle into the skyline. A chopper suddenly flew over and she stepped back instinctively to the shadows, but it simply continued towards the dome.
"What the fuck," Sophia muttered to herself. She pulled out her phone; 2 missed calls from the PRT and 4 from Emma.
She called Emma first. "Hey—" she managed to get in before the redhead barrelled over her.
"Thank god you're alright! I've been calling for the past hour!"
"Yeah sorry," Sophia scratched her neck awkwardly. "Kinda fell asleep last night."
"I told you to bring me along," Emma teased. "Anyway, never mind that. Have you seen it?"
"The giant fucking bubble? Yeah. What the hell is that?" Sophia double-checked the empty rooftop out of instinct, before unbuckling her mask off. She stuffed it into her duffel bag alongside her crossbow.
"No idea. The mayor's press conference is starting soon and my dad's saying they'll probably declare a state of emergency."
"Damn," Sophia whistled as she pulled the last of her armoured plates off, stuffing them all into her bag. "Must be some villain shit."
"Yup," Emma agreed. "Where are you now anyway?"
"At the boutiques," Sophia replied without thinking before groaning. She could already hear Emma slapping her knee as she guffawed.
"Please don't tell me you literally just woke up."
"Shut up," she grumbled. "Stakeouts are lame anyway."
"Is the big, bad Shadow Stalker whining?" Emma was smiling; Sophia could hear it brightly even over the phone. "C'mon you baby, I'll get mom to make an extra serving for you."
"Didn't say I was coming over," Sophia replied, but she was already heading down the side stairwell, mentally plotting the route towards Emma's.
"Uh-huh. You wanna lug your shit across the city on foot? Pretty sure all the buses aren't running now."
"Tell Mrs B. I want 2 servings, bitch." Sophia ended the call before she had to listen to Emma laughing at her again, but she was smiling too.
She fired a quick text to her mother before setting off. She hefted her bag up her shoulder as she walked along the quiet neighbourhood. The lack of the usual bustle along the street was unsettling.
It took her ten minutes to reach Emma's place. The house was brick red, with ivies crawling beautifully over its facade. A neat thicket of roses lined the foundation, squaring off at the corners as it went around the sides, along the entire house.
Sophia pulled her bag higher as she walked up to the house, kicking at some dead leaves scattered on the path. She knocked on the door impatiently. Her bag was getting uncomfortable on her shoulder, and she couldn't wait to stash it up in Emma's room before grabbing breakfast.
Hopefully it was sausages and eggs today; she was in the mood for some salt and oil. The door creaked open, and Sophia tried to smooth her stupid grin to a more respectable scowl as she turned—
A bald girl stood in the doorway, beaming as she held the door open. She was dressed in a sleek black bodysuit with a red sash tied around her waist.
"Hello, Sophia," she said. The girl's eyes seemed bulbous as they raked over Sophia, and her face was familiar in a way that set off chills down her spine. "You sure took your time walking here!"
The ward almost took a step back. She slid her bag off instead, holding it loosely in her hand. "Who the hell are you?" she pretended to ask as she craned her neck for a better look into the house.
"I'm hurt, Sophia," the crazy person pouted. "I like to think I've kept up my looks even as I aged."
Sophia didn't hear her answer. In a mirror facing the living room, she saw Emma tied to a chair. She was gagged with some fabric wrapped tightly around her lower face, and her eyes were wide and terrified.
Sophia immediately swung her bag at the stranger. It slammed with a noisy clatter into her head, pushing her slightly into the house.
She dived forward, phasing through the girl. She pulled her bag with her, and when they were through she whirled around, materializing and smashing the full weight into the stranger.
The girl didn't budge. Instead she turned around, letting the bag slide off her. She was still smiling.
"Ah, getting slammed with bags," she said cheerily. "I've missed your greetings, Sophia."
It was that sardonic tone that struck Sophia. "Wha—Taylor?" she asked incredulously.
Then Taylor was in front of her, standing tall, pinning Sophia with a sharp, curious gaze. Sophia jerked backwards, her arm swinging up instinctively, but Taylor moved impossibly fast. One hand reached out to cover her eyes, and everything went black.
Sophia blinked. Her head bounced off something hard as she reared back, and it took a second to reorient as she found herself tied to a chair just across Emma.
Taylor was seated on the coffee table, fiddling with her crossbow. All her equipment — the armour, the tranquillizer darts, the heavy bolts — were strewed over the table. The bag was thrown carelessly over the sofa, behind which stood three battered lockers.
Sophia ignored the lockers, focusing on the nerd instead. She looked completely different without hair.
Uglier, Sophia smirked internally, before growling.
Bitch isn't even paying attention. Taylor hadn't noticed Sophia was awake.
She knocked me out in an instant somehow. Brute package?
Her eyes darted around before zeroing in on the bolts scattered just next to the other girl. She'd just sharpened them the day before for the stakeout. Stainless steel, tri-blade broadheads with more than half-an-inch cutting diameter. Sophia tensed as she tried to shift discreetly, lining herself up towards Taylor.
Grab a bolt before she can react, then go for the eyes.
Sophia counted backwards in her head, eyes centred on the bolts. She waited until Taylor shifted away, attention still focused on the crossbow; then she phased forward, arm outstretched to—
"ARGH!" Sophia slammed back against the chair, nearly toppling over. Her fingers jittered as she clenched them, trying to will the numbness away. Belatedly Sophia realized she was strung up in Christmas lights. The soft, colourful lights winked at her tauntingly.
"Yowza!" Taylor appraised her amusedly. "Wards never teach you to pay attention to your surroundings, Shadow Stalker?"
Sophia tried to force her irritation down. "Big words, Hebert. You know what you fucking did? You attacked a Ward. You attacked civilians. You wanna go into the Birdcage that bad?"
Taylor only looked more amused. She placed the crossbow down. "Now, now, Sophia. Are you trying to scare me? Only the most heinous criminals go to the Birdcage. I haven't even killed anyone yet."
"Yeah, because you're useless," Sophia scoffed, struggling against the cables around her. "So fucking weak, you turned villain. What is this, your dumb revenge?"
Hebert didn't reply. She held up her arm instead, and with an exaggerated flourish, she plunged her other hand behind it, as if reaching into some deeper pocket, to pull out a long, gleaming knife. She swung it about, her eyes never leaving Sophia, and without a backwards glance she threw it straight into one of the lockers.
Sophia managed to force her flinch down.
Never show weakness. "Are those— did you drag our lockers here?" she barked a sharp derisive laugh. "You think you're scary, poking holes at our shit?"
Taylor only raised an eyebrow as she pulled out another knife, sending it into the same locker. Emma was struggling furiously now, a muffled keening coming from her gag as she tried to twist and turn out of her ropes.
A chill shot through Sophia as she suddenly realized. "Where are the Barnes?"
Taylor sprawled backwards, propped up against her arms and smiled with half-lidded eyes. "Where do you think?"
"You're bluffing." Sophia turned to Emma, trying to meet the redhead's eyes. "She's bluffing! Hebert's sheep. She doesn't have the fucking balls to do anything."
Taylor leaned forward. "Emma watched me put them in there herself, you know. I had to make a quick pit stop at the garbage collection centre but I managed to find enough trash to make it more comfortable inside for them." Her smile grew larger and her eyes shone brighter as she spoke. "Exactly just as you did for me."
Sophia spat at her. "Fuck you, Hebert. You think you're big now? The PRT's gonna roll up and fuck you up. You untie me now and I'll make sure you don't get sent to fucking hell."
Taylor froze, her smile disappearing as she reached up to wipe the glob of saliva off her face. "Very typically uncivil, Sophia, but I appreciate your stubbornness," she said through clenched teeth. Her mouth strained to smile as she tried to put on her cheer again. She cleared her throat, and tried again; this time she managed a twisted, overly-wide grin. "Really. I mean, had to gag Emma because she wouldn't stop wailing, you know."
She pretended to yawn. "Only 10 minutes with her and she's already begging. Boring!"
"But you!" the girl exclaimed, hopping closer and draping herself around Sophia. She had another knife in her hand as she gestured wildly. "The fire, the bravado!" Taylor grabbed Sophia's jaw, twisting it to the side to face her. "Is this what Emma turned on me for?"
Sophia tried to headbutt her, but Taylor just darted back, chuckling. "Relax, Sophia. I'm not here to ask anything outrageous from you." She sat back down, crossing her legs. "I just want an apology. For everything you did to me."
"What?"
"Just say sorry." Taylor shrugged casually. "Simple, right? But you have to really mean it!"
Sophia was silent for a moment. She tensed her muscles and took a deep breath, straining against the cables. The pain only focused the blinding rage in her mind.
Hebert was prey. Hebert didn't get to talk down to her like that. Hebert didn't have the balls for murder.
"Fuck you, Hebert," she snarled. "You were a fucking loser then and you're still a fucking loser now. You think you're special just 'cause of your powers? Fuck you, you bald freak. You still want to live? Untie me now and maybe,
just fucking maybe, I'll ask the PRT not to stick you in their deepest hole."
Taylor stilled. The room grew silent, leaving just the sound of Emma still sobbing behind her gag. Sophia held her breath, trying to slow it down. She was in control; Hebert was still completely frozen, her eyes glassy while one hand went up, almost unconsciously, to touch her gleaming head.
"Apologize," she finally said, softly, still not looking at Sophia.
Sophia scoffed internally. Hebert looked like she was about to fall apart. She leaned forward as far as she could, smirking. "What? You think cutting your hair made you some kind of badass? No. It just made you a bigger loser. An uglier freak. Just like you always were."
She relaxed back into the chair, modulating her tone. "Don't make this shit worse, Hebert. Untie me and surrender. I'll put in a good word for you. The PRT's even got shrinks to fix losers like you."
Taylor snapped her gaze back to Sophia, eyes cold and crystal clear. She pressed her palms against her thighs, squeezing them.
A panic attack? Sophia wanted to sneer, but she kept her face blank. Hebert was about to break. She just knew it.
Taylor stood up abruptly. She strode back to the lockers and wrenched the nearest one open. An overpowering stench rushed out with Zoe Barnes as she tumbled out into Taylor's arms. She looked around blearily as she clung to the younger girl. She was also gagged, with her hands bound behind her back and her feet tied together.
Sophia turned slightly, her hands wrenching against her restraints instinctively as she tried to cover her nose. Taylor looked unaffected. She pulled Zoe forward easily, a firm grip around the woman's dull red hair, cutting a path through the trash to the coffee table.
She forced Zoe to her knees, swiping the table clean to press the woman's head to the wooden surface. Taylor leaned over her, placing her face just next to her's. They peered up at Sophia, two faces huddled together for a selfie; one was smeared with dirt, detritus on her hair and body while the other was placid and calm, almost challenging as she stared at Sophia.
The ward glared in response.
A bluff, she repeated in her head, even as she felt cold sweat pepper across her back.
"Hey Aunt Zoe." Taylor rasped, never looking away from Sophia. "Just need to borrow you for a sec'."
And then she grabbed Sophia's crossbow and smashed the blunt handle into Mrs Barnes' face. Emma shrieked, loud enough to hear through her gag as Taylor brought the weapon down, over and over, into the woman's face. Her nose caved in first, bone snapping with a nauseating crunch. Blood sprayed, splattering bloody streaks all over Taylor and the tabletop as she smashed the crossbow in, deeper and deeper.
Sophia fell slack. A queasy cold filled her, suffusing her body and limbs, and she felt adrift in her body. She wanted to turn away, to look anywhere else, but Taylor held her gaze, unblinking even when blood sprayed into her eyes, and so Sophia was pinned, watching helplessly as Emma's mother turned into a gaping hole.
The clock in the living room chimed, and Taylor twitched. She paused and exhaled, before pulling the crossbow out. The weapon made a sticky squelch as it sprang free. Taylor dropped the corpse, brushing it away almost carelessly as she sat down.
"Woo!" Taylor shook herself and took a deep breath. "What a rush. I think I feel better now." She raised a hand to rub her head absentmindedly, nearly hitting herself with the crossbow. "Oops!" she sniggered before throwing it across the floor to Sophia. It left a long wet streak across the marble tiling. "Sorry about borrowing your weapon like that. But gosh, you really hurt me with your words, you know. I suppose some things will never change between us, eh?"
Taylor laughed again.
Sophia couldn't speak. She was rigid in her seat, her mouth parted and her mind blank. Her eyes darted around the room, zipping between Taylor, the corpse on the table, and Emma.
Emma had fallen silent, her eyes red and unblinking as they stared at the blood dripping off the table. The cloth wrapped around her face was soaked with tears.
"Hellooo?" Taylor followed her gaze backwards. "Oh Emma, honey," she cooed, walking over to the redhead. She circled around the other girl and pulled the gag off.
Emma remained unmoving as Taylor laid over her in a loose hug. "You're not crying, are you?" she asked, nuzzling against her friend. She gently wiped under the redhead's eyes with the pads of her thumb, leaving bloody streaks across her face. She patted consolingly on Emma's cheek. "Only losers cry when their mommies die, remember?"
"S-stop."
Taylor glanced at Sophia. "Hmmm?" she hummed, still wrapped around her catatonic friend, idly dabbing little red spots on her face.
"I'll—I'll do it," Sophia said, her voice rough and croaking slightly at the beginning. "I'll do what you want me to do."
Taylor settled her head down onto Emma's shoulder to watch Sophia. Quiet stilled the air for a long moment before Sophia jolted up slightly and started stammering out her words.
"I'm—" She cut herself off, swallowing loudly. "I'm sorry."
Taylor waited. "Is that it?" she asked incredulously. She strode back to the coffee table and pulled it closer to Sophia. The body slumped and dropped to the floor behind her as she sat down, crossed her legs and folded her hands at her knees. "Sorry for what?"
"Huh?" Sophia blurted, her mind racing. "For what?"
"What. Are you. Sorry for," Taylor said, enunciating each word slowly. "Please Sophia, keep up."
"I'm, um, sorry. For bullying you."
"For pouring juice over my books and homework?" Taylor started tapping the floor with her boot.
"Yes. For that." Sophia agreed, before hurriedly repeating at Taylor's raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry for pouring juice over your stuff."
"You're sorry for stuffing me in my locker."
"I'm sorry for stuffing you in your locker."
"Sorry for breaking my mother's flute and shoving it into shit."
Sophia exhaled heavily. "I'm sorry for breaking your mother's flute and shoving it into shit."
Taylor regarded her for a moment, still tapping her boot on the marble floor. "This isn't working," she shook her head, standing. "Something's missing."
Sophia eyed her old classmate warily. She tested her bonds again surreptitiously. The fear had receded slightly and her head was a shade clearer now, but her heart was still beating wildly. Her body felt chilly and weak, the corded muscles she built slackened like putty.
Hebert was more insane than she anticipated. Sophia watched her pace back and forth, carefully making sure to look past the faceless woman on the floor. She spared a glance at Emma; the girl was just staring at the floor where the blood was pooling.
The PRT's coming soon, Sophia thought furiously. One of the neighbours must have noticed something. She hadn't responded to their texts either; they must be sending a team on their way.
Taylor suddenly stopped and turned around with a wide grin. "I'm an idiot. The answer was in front of me all along!"
Sophia froze, the hairs along her arms and neck standing electrified at the manic expression on the bald girl's face. Everything glitched out for a second, where the world flashed grey, then Taylor was seated on the table again, this time with Alan Barnes struggling against her grip.
"Barnes. The
Barnes. Of course you wouldn't care. You're
Hess!" Taylor exclaimed, effortlessly holding the man between her legs. "That's what I've missed! That's why you're... boring."
It was warm and sticky. Sophia blinked, spitting out the copper taste on her tongue and twisting her head before it caught up to her.
She saw disbelief mirrored in Alan's eyes as he slumped back on his heels, blood spurting from his neck, over his Sunday shirt and over Sophia.
Taylor wiped her blade clean on his sleeve. She tried to push him aside gently, but he collapsed forward, face up next to Sophia. Blood streamed around Sophia, soaking through her socks and seeping between her toes. She could almost see the life leave him, in pulses from the hole in his neck, draining his eyes empty.
Emma screamed. She buckled hard against her chair, screaming and shrieking unceasingly.
"W-Why?!" Sophia choked out as Taylor stood. "I apologized!"
"But did you mean it?" Taylor nodded to herself. "Of course you didn't. You didn't have the proper motivation." She pointed at Emma. "I mean, look at that! Awful racket, really, but proper
emotion."
It was like falling, everything in the pit of her stomach emptying out and the fear so thick it tasted sour when Sophia realized what Taylor was implying.
"No. NO!" She pulled against her cables. "Fuck you Hebert, don't you fucking—"
Taylor disappeared when she blinked, leaving her hanging with her feet steeped in blood. Emma was still screaming.
Then she was back, right up against Sophia, her face filling her vision entirely. "Boo-yah," Taylor smiled, bopping Sophia lightly on her nose before stepping back. She had her arms outstretched theatrically to present Sophia with her mother and brother. Both were gagged and tied firmly to their chairs, their eyes red with fear.
Sophia snarled incoherently, her hands and body straining forward futilely. The lights shattered and sparked as she phased in and out against the cables.
Taylor clapped twice. "Ah. The fire and energy. There's the Sophia I wanted to break." She crouched next to her mother, gripping her hand tightly to press flat against the arm of the chair.
"Don't you fucking touch my mother, you fucking psycho!" Sophia roared, her voice breaking. "I'll fucking kill you, okay?! I'll fucking kill you!"
Taylor whipped out a knife with a flick of her wrist and held it playfully just above her mother's fingers.
"Please. PLEASE." Sophia was crying. She twisted and turned, phasing against the cables again before collapsing back into the chair. She looked up at Taylor, her eyes wet and honest. "I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I hit you and fucked with you. I'm sorry I fucked your shit up. Just please, Taylor. She's my mom. Please, okay? Please."
Taylor chopped the index finger off and swiped it to the floor.
Sophia yowled wordlessly. Her chair bucked back and forth, nearly toppling over. "Why? WHY?! Fuck you Taylor! Just please. Fuck you, just please! Stop," she half-yelled, half babbled. Her words stumbled over themselves as she sagged against her bonds and cried.
Taylor only smiled. She pressed her knife against the next finger.
"I liked that apology, Sophia. Say it again."