Death's Mistress: Origins of Supers: Book One

by D. L. Harrison

That was about when the fastest of the last two got close enough to grab my ankle, and his hand felt like a vice of nerf foam. I spun wildly and started flying backwards through the water as he pulled me toward him, essentially climbing up my body while doing several hundred knots two hundred feet below the ocean’s surface.

  My heart pounded as I saw death in his eyes, this guy really wanted me dead. Me. It was… shocking to see that murderous rage in his eyes directed at me. Despite everything that’d happened so far, I still didn’t really feel like a threat. I was a good person, damnit. Worse, it was a self-righteous anger, he really thought I was a nut bag murderer. I was incensed as a surge of anger went through me and not all that far from panic as my heart pounded in my chest.

  I pulled back the other leg and kicked him in the face as he grabbed me below the knee.

  His head snapped back and I could tell I’d just rung his bell hard, but he held on stubbornly and when his hand reached my thigh, I felt panic, and I was also really low on air at that point. My chest was burning, and the need to take a breath was hard to hold back even thought I knew it’d be my death.

  Point was, I was done playing around with half measures as I released a far more targeted and powerful sonic blast to break his shoulder blades, at the same time I kicked him in the face and rung his bell for the second time.

  The bastard just smirked at me. He looked amused, and I realized in that moment he was completely immune to my sound attacks.

  He’d also slowed me down with our grappling, and I’d lost track of asshole number two in our struggle, which turned out to be a huge mistake when I felt a second arm go around my neck. In my defense, I had yet to go through training. I didn’t know how to fight, much less been taught the importance of vigilance of watching all of my surroundings, and not to focus on just one thing.

  So, I had some asshole groping my inner thigh, and another one trying to strangle me to death from behind. They had a solid hold on me and started to fly up, swim up with power, whatever. Point was they were about to deliver me to the energy guys so they could put a hole through my heart, or something similarly bad.

  The only good news was the iron grip of his forearm digging into my throat kind of tickled. Like it was a five-year-old trying to strangle me with a nerf garrote.

  I mentally took a deep breath, only mentally because I didn’t want to drown. One problem at a time. I sent out a sonic blast to shatter the strangling asshole’s arms and legs, and to my relief he screamed like a little girl in agonizing pain, and he let me go as he raced to the surface. Probably in fear that the crazy blonde lady would blow up his head next, their opinion of me working for my side for once.

  We stopped rising at that point without both of them involved.

  He was still a faster flyer, but I was stronger, and my flight power was linked into that strength for leverage somehow. He had both of his hands around my body now, holding me in a grip around my outer thighs. He was struggling to lift me, just as obviously running low on air and in pain like I was, but the look in his eyes told me had no intentions of ever letting me go.

  I also got the impression he was trying to crush me, but fortunately for me that whole idea was a non-starter.

  I leaned down and punched him in the face, which rung his bell for the third time. I could see he was disoriented by it, but it wasn’t enough. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I know my eyes were begging him to let go, to not make me kill him as my lungs burned and ached to draw breath.

  He was still crawling up my body, moving one arm at a time, and I opened my legs and wrapped them around his chest, then squeezed. He grunted but didn’t look like he was going to let go, so I kept squeezing harder, and harder. His ribs cracked, and the bastard still wouldn’t let go of me, he’d also stopped moving, merely holding my body against his with his arms wrapped around my hips.

  He couldn’t crush me, but I could sure as hell crush him. Didn’t the fact I hadn’t yet not occur to him at all, make him question anything he thought he knew? That I’d made sure no one had died up until then? People were stubborn, when their passions were involved. Logic and facts notwithstanding.

  I was out of time.

  I knew I’d be gasping in a big swallow of water any second, as my instincts kicked in and demanded air despite being underwater. I tightened my legs further and his upper body compacted from both sides with a disgusting crackle of bones and ribs. I felt rage in that moment, how dare he make me kill again. But it was him or me, the bastard wouldn’t give up, and I’d protect myself. I hated myself, and I hated him, even as his eyes went dim. But he’d had no right to my life and was the aggressor. Government agent or not, he was in the wrong.

  I truly believed that, even back then as I took my second life, once again in desperation because all other options had failed. This time I didn’t know if he deserved to die, but I did know it was justified as self-defense. Maybe if I’d been trained back then, I could’ve used grappling techniques to overpower him and throw him off, or maybe just broke his arms somehow, but I hadn’t been trained yet and he was trying to murder me, not arrest me. I was pretty sure that was illegal.

  I took off quickly at that point, left him behind. I made it almost another two miles before I rocketed straight up as I turned invisible and bobbed up out of the ocean. I didn’t have a choice, and I was terrified my gambit of going deeper hadn’t worked. I wondered if my head would be blown off as I gasped in a deep breath and then scanned the horizon with wide and tear-filled eyes, upset over what had just happened.

  I continued to gulp in deep breaths and my head cleared, and the pain in my chest faded, as my body was satisfied with its surfeit of oxygen.

  I saw the two brawlers and two energy wielders almost a mile away, flying in a grid search pattern. I only had my head above water, and they hadn’t seen me yet, so I took a deep ass breath and then dove back down underwater. I worked my way away from them at two hundred feet below, then circled back around to shore and headed west. I flew a long and leisurely circle, so that I went nowhere near Manhattan, and I approached Excelsior from the suburbs in the west.

  Maybe I was overly paranoid, but I didn’t want to risk another fight, and I imagined every hero was still flying around the city in anticipation of my return. Flying back in invisible would just be risking lives for no reason and foolhardy besides. Fortunately, the warm air, long flight, sun, and wind had dried out my suit, but I imagined my hair must be a mess.

  I landed in the suburbs, bought a brush, as well as a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from a terrified young lady with the visa gift card up my sleeve, and put it on right there in the store. After ducking out invisible, I went to the train station that headed into the city, and turned visible in the women’s bathroom, as the dark-haired brunette.

  It wasn’t until I took the train into the city, and I was sure I was in the clear, that I became Belladonna with the black hair, and went back to the safehouse.

  The anger and guilt mixed for what I had to do. But I’d also decided on that long flight that I’d had no choice. Did that make me a psychopath? To protect my own life? I knew then that I wouldn’t hesitate a third time either, if I had no choice. Self-defense, and the defense of others, those were good reasons to kill in my mind, if that was the only alternative to dying or an innocent dying.

  I’d always known that of course, it was common sense, but I’d never felt it viscerally before that day. There was no morality comparison either, not in my mind. He’d come at me murderously, the evil had been in his heart, and his intentions had been to take my life at any cost. I’d do my best to avoid it in the future, to make it the last option, but that second time was the last time that I shed tears for the loss of my naïve innocence.

  Chapter Eleven

  The news was on when I got in and joined the others in the living room. All five of them were there, plus my daughter who was sitting on Sarah’s lap. She looked quite content there, and outside of a bright smile and a momma she didn’t mo
ve an inch. Little traitor, I laughed.

  “So, how bad is it?” I asked as I sat down, strangely content and in no hurry to take off the super-suit. It was pretty much invisible beneath the jeans, and I only had to mimic a little skin for the part that showed above the t-shirt’s neckline and for my arms.

  Maria said, “They were showing clips of what happened in front of city hall, and parts of the video that went up. But less so since Hammer was killed. They’re still showing the clips, but the headline story was his death, which they’re calling a murder of a federal agent.”

  Was that his super name? I needed to learn all their names, faces, and capabilities if I could. It would’ve helped to know that he was immune to sonic attacks before he had a hand on me. I knew a few of them by appearance, but there were sixteen pairs of them in the city alone. Something else to add to the list.

  “He didn’t leave me any choice, he wanted me dead. He was also immune to my sonic powers.”

  Debra said, “We know that, honey. You did what you had to do, but for now we’ll need to lie low, train you to fight, and stay out of things for a bit. We need to make you hidden from thermal so you can slip away easily too, doing anything else before then is just asking for more trouble. Plus, let’s give your statement and video a few weeks to sink into the psyche of the people before giving them more to think about. Last, and perhaps most importantly, the blood they have should lose whatever connection it has to your body in another three weeks or so, otherwise you’ll have supers on your ass every day you go out.”

  I sighed, “I wish I’d have thought one of the heroes might try to rescue me, I could’ve just walked away if I had. I also made a mistake going to the ocean. I should’ve gone into Manhattan and lost them in the crowds.”

  Germaine shook his head, “No, your instincts were to avoid people, avoid collateral damage, and it was the right move. Going into the big apple could’ve ended up a lot worse. You’ll be more prepared next time, not just for fighting, but for slipping away invisibly. You did what you had to, and hindsight doubts and foolish regrets doesn’t help anyone.”

  “You seem sure we can get thermal proof tech or a suit.”

  He nodded easily, “Glenn is sure it’s possible. Heat shielding technology already exists, and the scientists are already working something up for you. It’ll just take time. He’s also pleased with today, it’ll take time for it to sink in, but this was just our first move.”

  Sarah said, “I imagine they’ll be even angrier, after you made a fool of them today when they’d set up that trap, and they lost another one.”

  She wasn’t wrong. They’ll all be after my blood now. I snorted, as if they weren’t before?

  The news came back on and I watched through the cycle. Some were saying there should be an investigation, but many were saying I was just another crazy supervillain, completely ignoring the fact I should’ve been dead and tried to prevent collateral damage.

  Inconvenient facts were often ignored like that, when they conflicted with someone’s world view. I got the idea it would be hot for a while, then be brushed off and forgotten, and that was frustrating. It made me wonder why I’d done it in the first place. The road to convincing enough people and exposing the truth would be a long one, and perhaps it would ultimately be impossible.

  But I had to try, otherwise I’d be complicit in every new super they killed from now on, and my soul couldn’t abide that. I couldn’t even imagine how Glenn felt about it, losing his wife’s life and fighting that tide for many years already with not much to show for it but a crazy conspiracy theorist label by the press.

  The government had already given out some double talk about why and how I was still alive, and no one even questioned it. That was… disturbing to me. I could only hope there were some ignorant people high up in the government who would see through it now, and also decide to poke around. Probably not though, politicians weren’t very quick to stick their necks out, rock the boat, or take responsibility for anything.

  Besides the death of Hammer, the only other bad thing not counting the mission message itself being rejected, was that they now knew I could look like anyone. Still, there were a lot of petite and athletically curvaceous women in a city this size, and the facial feature changes meant they couldn’t find me from photo recognition at all despite having that knowledge. Point was, I’d lost an edge there, but my new identity was still quite safe.

  Germaine asked, “Did you eat lunch?”

  I shook my head. It’d been close to two by the time I’d made my way back into the city.

  Germain nodded, “Do that, and then we’ll start your training.”

  I got up and headed up to my room first, and I changed into a pair of yoga pants and a black clingy t-shirt I wouldn’t mind sweating in. Mostly because I was going to have to turn off my strength and resistance to physical damage, and I already knew the suit wouldn’t feel like a full body nerf hug without it. It’d be incredibly uncomfortable in fact, and it’d pinch my skin as I moved.

  That done, I went down to the kitchen for some food.

  Apparently, I didn’t know how to stand correctly to maintain balance. I didn’t know how to walk either despite my natural athletic grace. Then there was my center of gravity, awareness of my surroundings and opponents, and how to take a fall. How not to focus on any part of my enemy but their whole body all at once as well as my surroundings. During my first torturous training session I didn’t even throw a punch, which I’d probably do wrong too.

  He also explained how Krav Maga was about never stop attacking until your opponent was down, and all sorts of other philosophies which we also adapted to the fact I was a super. The rules were a little different, if I went full bore at everyone, then I’d be killing people left and right. But the aggression part wasn’t wrong, when I was forced to fight, I needed to never stop until I’d won it. The trick was balancing the two.

  Eventually, he did get down to blocking and breaking holds even if I was weaker than my attacker using leverage and resistance. He showed me several basic holds, and how to get out of them, which I was able to accomplish with my own muscle, despite him having the body of a linebacker and being more than a foot taller. That information would’ve come in handy a few hours ago, but I’m not sure by how much. Grappling would come up a lot no doubt, because brawlers knew they couldn’t match me force to force and take me out alone, so their goal would be to subdue or slow me so an energy wielder could take their shot. Like they had tried earlier that day.

  He also stressed a clear mind, not to fight with anger. Which, I was already guilty of, twice. Striking out in anger and desperation because I was about to die, which led to the two deaths on my hands.

  We worked on the grapples and escapes for a long time. He made me do it over and over until I was soaked in sweat with a racing heart, and until I could do them without thinking, by reflex alone. As we cooled down, he made me describe every second of my fight with the superheroes in detail. Once I’d done that, he pointed out every single mistake I’d made and every opportunity I’d missed. It would’ve made me feel two inches tall if he hadn’t used a gentle rumbling instructor's voice for it, clearly teaching me what I’d done wrong so I could get it right next time. There was no judgement or blame in it, just a cold practicality for next time when I could do better.

  Lastly, he taught me a simple mental calming exercise he wanted me to meditate with for an hour a day. It was hard to clear my mind and sharpen my focus, but he assured me once my mind was accustomed to it that I’d be able to do it while in a fight, which would improve my responses. I had the discipline not to give up, and I was determined to be the best I could be. Anything less could mean my death, the death of an innocent, or even my opponent.

  Sometimes that would be unavoidable, but if I didn’t do my best then it was my fault.

  The next three weeks of my life passed quickly, and I trained almost all day long everyday thanks to my quick healing and how fast I’d recover af
ter a quick meal. A lot of the training was mental, after the physical training we’d discuss what could be better and I spent time meditating.

  I slowly learned to master the calming exercise, as well as observe all my surroundings during a fight. He even recruited the others into my training, and while I fought against Germaine, I’d also needed to be aware of the others circling me. I had to dodge randomly thrown tennis balls during that aspect of my training.

  I was hit by a lot of tennis balls in the beginning, but I slowly improved. I had no protection against energy supers, outside of evasion or simply taking the hit and hoping my powerful healing would be enough to survive it.

  I also worked on perfecting several different sonic attacks, with Debra’s healing skills on call. I didn’t like it, but Germaine insisted, and he never complained once when I broke his bones. I didn’t have to practice killing with it, I could already do that just fine, it was the disabling part of things I needed to perfect.

  Lastly, I was devastated when he suggested a simple trick that would’ve let me escape. All I’d had to do was flash a bright light in their eyes to temporarily blind them, and they’d have been disoriented and I’d have escaped the fight altogether. But it was what it was, and it didn’t invalidate my earlier conclusions, I could only do what I knew to do.

  The first week alone we stuck to the grappling holds and escapes. When I could do them all without actually engaging my brain power, with muscle memory alone. He moved on to grapple hold escapes that had brutal and incapacitating responses built in. A counter-attack if you will. Kneecap breaks, elbow breaks, all kinds of nasty things that would incapacitate but not kill. The supers I fought would heal from it all quickly enough, even if it would be devastatingly permanent damage to a normal human.

  The second and third week we moved to basic sparring styles in both kickboxing and Krav Maga.

  It wasn’t fun, at all. It took discipline to get up every morning and do it, even on the days when I didn’t really want to. Motivation to do it came and went, but I was down there every day regardless ready to do it. It also hurt. I didn’t turn into some blackbelt martial artist overnight. It’d be years of training to be that advanced, but I was able to pay attention and throw a punch and to grapple a little. That, along with my strength, light, and sonics, should be enough to get started with.