by Wyatt Kane
The large room had been loosely sectioned off using cabinets instead of walls, allowing Ty and Lilith to see many different displays all at once from the entrance, from intricate crystal ware on the left and a collection of porcelain masks that could have been from Venice on the right, all the way through to mechanical marvels at the far end that could have been put together by DaVinci himself.
It wasn’t the same room shown in the video, but instead was one more prone to damage. The beauty and history within the cabinets and on the walls would have been enough to make Ty stare in wonder if he’d had the leisure to do so.
But he did not. Standing in the middle of everything, surrounded by the collective work of great masters who had put their heart and soul into creation, was a woman whose soul must have ached only to destroy.
“There she is!” Lilith said. “What do we do?”
Ty could hear the conflict in her voice. On the one side, she was determined to lend what aid she could, but on the other, at her core, Lilith didn’t want to hurt anyone.
The woman had her back to them and was making her way through the displays, hurling her dark vitriol over the cabinets, pushing them over, flicking drops of acidic intent this way and that. Ty could smell it, and it wasn’t pleasant. Like vomit and rot all rolled into one, he’d cleaned toilets at the Concubine Club that had smelled better.
Yet, in a way, it was also useful. He could track where she’d been by the mess she had made, the burn marks on the floor and destroyed works of art.
But it wasn’t just the artwork her passing had damaged. Here and there, people were on the floor, hiding in corners as they clutched wounded limbs to themselves.
This woman, this spitting cobra with acid on her breath may not have been as destructive as Concussion had been, but she was toxic enough in her own way. Even as she vomited a stream of bile at a full-sized replica of DaVinci’s helicopter design, Ty indicated the wounded.
“Take them to safety,” he said. “If they’re injured, take them to a hospital. You know the drill.”
Lilith nodded and blinked over to one of the injured. Moments later, she disappeared out of the display room altogether, leaving Ty alone with the woman he’d started to think of as Spit Bitch.
With a last glance about, searching for Tempest, Ty flexed his shoulders and gritted his teeth. He was more tired than he wanted to acknowledge, and the ache behind his eyes had started to pound. But the history Spit Bitch had already destroyed was of incalculable value. He couldn’t let her continue.
As the DaVinci helicopter crumpled into a puddle of dark, festering liquid and Spit Bitch searched for her next target, Ty called out. “Hey, you!” he said. “That’s enough!”
Spit Bitch turned at the sound of his shout, spewing vomit from her mouth at the same time and flinging gobs of acid from her hands. She couldn’t say anything, not with the gross fluid erupting from her throat, but her expression said plenty. Ty saw the light of recognition in her eyes and all thought of other targets ceased to exist. She let out a strangled cry choked with hate and charged toward him for all she was worth.
Ty had planned to use one of his EMP grenades to take care of the device on her wrist. He’d done it before and couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t work again. But he’d misjudged. He should have used it before he said anything. Before he attracted her attention his way.
The vile woman was surprisingly quick. Already, she’d closed the distance between them to the point where Ty couldn’t risk it. If he did, there was a good chance he would be caught in the blast.
Instead, he set himself to meet her attack, and wondered again if her venom would be able to eat through his shield.
Before Ty to find out, the air around them was suddenly shattered.
Ty flinched, looking about in time to see Tempest streaking through the air. With a shriek of anger and triumph, the blonde superhero careened into Spit Bitch with an audible ker-thump! The impact lifted the woman into the air before crashing into an exterior wall.
It was a sickening hit, and Ty knew if Tempest ever hit him like that, he would have suffered multiple broken bones and numerous internal injuries. Yet Spit Bitch was apparently made of much sterner stuff. Half buried in the wall, she started to move, and even from where he was, Ty could clearly see her intent. She was going to vomit her acidic bile at Tempest from point-blank range, and not even Ty knew how that would go.
“Look out!” Ty shouted, and whether it was because of his warning or not, Tempest acted. With a howl of fury, the blonde superhero wrenched Spit Bitch out of the wall and flung her face down on the ground.
Nor was she finished at that. Somehow, she had gained an iron bar about two feet long. Tempest flung herself onto Spit Bitch’s back and with all the strength at her command, smashed the iron bar against the back of the woman’s skull.
For just an instant, Ty froze in place. Tempest’s intent couldn’t be mistaken. She wanted to murder Spit Bitch where she lay, and there wasn’t much Ty could do to stop it.
Yet at the same time, Tempest punctuated her efforts with questions.
“Where is the Master?” she demanded, pounding at the back of Spit Bitch’s head. “Where is he? Who is he?” Again and again, she shouted her questions as she pummeled the woman into the ground.
Ty’s uncertainty lasted only a moment, but even in that time, he feared the worst.
“Tempest!” he shouted. “You can’t do this!”
Yet the blonde superhero could do it. She hit Spit Bitch again, and Ty saw the woman’s arms and legs jerk as if in response.
“Where is he?” Tempest shouted again.
Between Ty and Tempest, it was the blonde superhero who was the stronger. Ty had replicated part of her strength with the technology added to his shield. But if it came to it, he knew without doubt that she would best him in a fight.
Yet he never hesitated. In part because he couldn’t conceive of an eventuality where Tempest would attack him, and in part because it just had to be done, Ty used his shield in a way he hadn’t before.
In his ongoing quest to give himself flight, Ty had achieved something not quite as grand. With the right motivation and effort, he could skim across the ground at a much quicker speed than if he just ran.
“Tempest, stop!” he shouted, and used the technique.
As a special attacks went, it wasn’t much. Certainly, it didn’t compare to Tempest’s pile driver technique, or even Ty’s own shield cannons attack. If anything, it was a fast travel option, though it didn’t compare well to Lilith’s teleportation at all. But, just at that time, in that circumstance, it was enough.
In less than a heartbeat, Ty reached Tempest’s side. Without pausing to think, he reached out and gripped the blonde superhero’s arm as she raised her club once again.
“Tempest! You’ve got to stop!” Ty said, using every last ounce of his strength to hold the blonde superhero back.
It worked. Somehow, using the power of his shield, Ty had managed to prevent Tempest from smashing her club into Spit Bitch again.
The blonde superhero turned with such an expression of rage that Ty knew he had gone too far. As well as her strength, Tempest also had speed in her arsenal of weapons. Ty didn’t have time to think. All he knew was that Tempest pivoted and slammed her fist into his chest with all of the power at her command.
Despite Ty’s shield, despite having tested it with Tempest’s strength in the past, Ty learned something new. Before, he’d asked her to hit him.
But this time, Tempest wasn’t playing. His shield still held up, still cushioned the blow, but not nearly as well as it had done in the test. Ty found himself flying through the air with his arms and legs flailing. If it weren’t for his shield, he would have landed in a heap on the floor. As it was, his shield caught him and lowered him gently to the ground.
At the same time, he heard the horror in Tempest’s voice as she realized what she had done.
“Ty!” she said. “Oh my God, Ty!”<
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13: Dead or Alive
Tempest closed the distance between them in an instant.
“Oh my God!” she repeated. “Oh my God, I hit you!” She wrapped him up in a hug, then pushed him away, holding him at arms’ length. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry!”
Ty was physically unhurt by Tempest’s expression of rage but was admittedly rattled. On top of the ongoing headache and exhaustion, he just wanted her to calm down a little. He held out his hands in an effort to hold her still for a moment.
“I’m okay,” Ty said, and that was enough to get the blonde superhero to crush him against her in another hug.
“I’m sorry,” Tempest said from his shoulder. “I didn’t know it was you. I wasn’t thinking.”
Ty held her back. “I’m okay,” he said. “My shield did its job.” They held each other for some moments, and Ty could sense the blonde woman’s relief. Yet, after a while, Ty pulled himself back enough so he could look at her. “Tempest,” he started. “The woman…” He wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
In the end, he didn’t need to. Tempest glanced back toward Spit Bitch, still prone on the museum floor, and reacted in shock.
“Oh my God,” she said again. “What have I done?”
Ty understood she wasn’t really seeking an answer. Yet he offered one anyway. “You put an end to a threat to this building and the people within it.” Even as he spoke, he knew there was more to it than that. The force Tempest had used to stop the woman had been excessive.
Tempest knew it as well. “Have I killed her?” her asked, her voice filled with uncharacteristic horror.
Ty didn’t know the answer to that question, but couldn’t see how anyone could survive what Tempest had done.
Yet Spit Bitch wore a device on her wrist, just as Ty and Tempest both did. And, just like Concussion before her, her powers had been enhanced in some way. Perhaps, whatever innate durability Spit Bitch possessed had been bolstered as well.
Ty swallowed hard. This was part of the life of a superhero that the comics seldom showed. The aftermath of the misuse of power by one of the good guys. The uncertainty of not knowing if an enemy was dead or not.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Ty asked.
At the same time, even if Spit Bitch was dead, Ty knew it wouldn’t have been the first time Tempest had killed. Nor was she the only killer on their side of the game. In the short time since he’d put on his device, Ty himself had racked up a considerable body count.
So, what would make this one any different from the rest?
Tempest held onto Ty’s arm as they approached the still form of the woman, and Ty knew the answer. The deaths he and Tempest had caused in the past had occurred within realms of a battle. Those deaths, while tragic in their own way, had been largely unavoidable.
With this one, Tempest had already won the fight. She could have stopped pounding Spit Bitch at any time. That she had failed to do so was a choice.
And it wasn’t the choice a true hero would make.
At first glance at the woman, it didn’t look good. The flooring in this part of the art museum was real wood, and it had taken serious damage around Spit Bitch’s head. While the rest of the woman’s body looked fine, if a little crumpled, Tempest had beaten the back of the woman’s skull bloody, and the discarded metal pipe she had used as a club had been bent with the effort.
Tempest didn’t say a word, but Ty could see the worry written on her face. Despite her rage of only a minute before, Tempest didn’t want Spit Bitch dead. Letting go of Ty’s arm, the blonde hero sank to her knees and reached for the woman’s neck to feel for a pulse.
Ty didn’t know what to hope for. On the one hand, he hoped Spit Bitch might still be alive because he didn’t want Tempest to experience the guilt of having killed her. On the other hand, the woman was dangerous, and a minion of the Master. She had shown no hesitation or remorse about destroying pieces of history or killing those who’d come to admire it.
In Ty’s mind, New Lincoln would be better off without someone like her roaming the streets.
As he waited for Tempest to pronounce Spit Bitch dead or alive, he looked to the woman’s device and realized he already knew the answer. The device hadn’t clicked open. It still formed a seal on her wrist in the same way that Ty’s did, that Tempest, Dinah’s and Lilith’s all did as well. And that meant…
“She’s still alive,” Tempest said, her voice filled with a mix of both surprise and relief.
“Good,” Ty said. “I think.”
“Yeah,” Tempest said. “Although, I have to admit, I’m surprised. I hit her really hard.”
Ty was interested in that as well, so he reached for the device on the woman’s wrist and quickly pulled up her character sheet.
And there it was in full detail. From the woman’s name to her skill, and including all of her normal attributes as well.
General
Name: Elissa Black
Modifications: Shark teeth, Feline eyes
Unique Skill: Toxic Exudate
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Baseline
Strength: 5
Durability: 7
Healing: 5
Stamina: 5
Agility: 4
Intelligence: 4
Wisdom: 3
Skill: N/A
Post enhancement
Strength: 7 (+4)
Durability: 12 (+4)
Healing: 8 (+4)
Stamina: 5 (+3)
Agility: 5 (+3)
Intelligence: 5 (+3)
Wisdom: 3 (+3)
Skill: 1 (+3)
Elissa Black, Ty thought, taking in the woman’s name. He thought Spit Bitch suited her better, but of greater interest to him was how it showed her alignment in black and white. If she could see that as well, wouldn’t that be motivation to change?
Tempest’s focus was different. “Durability twelve plus four?” she asked with a frown of puzzlement. “With my stats, it’s my skill that provides the boost that adds to the rest. But what does her skill have to do with any of that? It doesn’t make sense,” she said.
But Ty was starting to think he understood. “It does if she is gained a buff in some other way,” he murmured. He was thinking of the drug he had taken, the AZT-407. It had given him a +2 buff across the board, but, if that’s what caused the increase to Spit Bitch’s stats, it had done even better for her.
Before Tempest could ask him what he meant, he changed the subject. “In any event, we should get this off her. We don’t want her waking up still wearing her device.”
As if on cue, Spit Bitch started to moan into the floor.
Tempest nodded, and Ty reached for one of the EMP grenades at his belt. But Tempest shook her head.
“I have an easier way.”
“How?” Ty asked.
Tempest’s expression hardened. She reached for the device on the woman’s wrist, and for a moment Ty thought she was going to just rip it off, taking flesh, bones, and everything else with it. Ty knew Tempest could do it. She had the physical strength, and it would be effective. Yet that she could even think of the option made him hesitate.
“Wait–” he began, then understood he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. Tempest simply exerted her strength, crushing the device to the point where the casing broke.
Spit Bitch moaned in her semiconscious state, and Tempest kept crushing. With a puff of smoke to go with the protests of metal, Ty knew that the device had reached its limit.
Ty figured Spit Bitch would have a massive bruise on her arm, and more likely, the bones would be broken. But the device was done for. It tried to split open as it would have as if Spit Bitch had died, and partially succeeded. Tempest removed it completely, then crushed it like an empty beer can, giving a wordless grunt of satisfaction as she did.
14: Surrounded
Ty didn’t envy how Spit Bitch would feel when she made her way back to full consciousness. At the very least, her head would be aching. R
epeated blows by Tempest with an iron bar were not something to be treated lightly. Ty wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that her skull was filled with fractures despite her formidable durability.
In addition to that and her arm, she would also be suffering from withdrawal from the device itself, and that sort of withdrawal was on an entirely different level from the AZT-407 hangover Ty currently fought. It was beyond debilitating. A pain the like of which Ty had never experienced before, and had no wish to ever do so again.
Even if she still wanted to, in such a state Spit Bitch wouldn’t be able to do any damage.
Yet, as she had proven, the woman still presented a danger. The Master could supply her with a replacement device yet again, and once her injuries had healed, she could be back on the streets causing additional mayhem.
Ty and Tempest had allowed the woman the chance to walk away from defeat once before, but Ty was loath to let her do so again.
“What do we do with her?” he asked.
The blonde superhero was still a ball of roiling emotions. The horror at hitting Ty remained, as did a measure of the residual rage at the Master and what he had done. There was relief there as well, that Spit Bitch still lived. And yet, as Ty asked his question, an overlay of determination slid into place.
“We can’t let her go again,” Tempest replied. “I don’t want the Master to be able to continue to use her.”
Ty nodded. “I agree. But what can we do?”
Before Tempest could answer, Lilith blinked back into existence with an audible pop. He realized that the alarm he’d been hearing since he entered the museum was no longer sounding. The art museum had gone quiet.
“That’s the last of them,” the demon woman said.
Out of no more than curiosity, and because he didn’t want to think about Spit Bitch for the moment, Ty asked, “How many did you take?”
“About half a dozen,” Lilith said. She said it with tiredness in her voice, and Ty was reminded that she’d been teleporting injured people back and forth throughout the day. Yet there was pride there as well. Lilith had found her place on the team. She wasn’t exactly a healer, but her talent was better suited than Ty’s or Tempest’s to getting people the help that they needed.