What do we do?
We save people.
Sometimes we fight evil.
What happens when there are no conflict in the area?
Are we obsolete?
No.
Do we go proactive, should we change the world?
No.
They move as they will .
We just make sure that they stay on course.
What if they 'stay'
Reassure them.
Tell them that the world is safe.
Dale emerged from his colourful road, the arrows pointed to this centre of pain his eyes guided him to the path of tears. It wasn't prevention, neither was it an ongoing fight but rather he arrived on the aftermath. Smoke. Soot. Dust. It reminded him of the paintings of hell, on a smaller but a more concentrated scale. The world that exists in front of him shows the remains of a great disaster, the world that only 'he' can see shows him a dull grey vastness that expands as he tries to reach out. This house is only beginning for another story.
12 years old, she ran away from home after the fire.
It as a case of a super-brawl gone wrong, demons tried to breach into our world and the heroes got there late. Everything started with a bunch of suburban cultists that wanted to gain financial power, hearing voices from beyond the veil that sacrifice will be rewarded with its weight in gold. Several cows later they managed to convert an old mirror into a two-way. They see a great burning. A neighbourhood had to be contained, nearby heroes immediately rose to the action.
A house got eaten by the fire. Because of the heroes they survived but lost a member to the accident, there were casualties on all sides but the horned ones are sent back before they can maintain their dominion over the world. Henry, their beloved Corgi died during the event. Losing a home, losing a family member. For one little girl that was all too much. She vanished, her parents are at the hospital. They are stable, but she is nowhere to be found. Bad. Extradimensional energies are known to have odd effects on humans.
Run.
She kept running.
Towards a single direction.
Her lets brought her to a place where her emotions carried her.
Her stamina gave out in a familiar place, it was the bank. A place that is similar to where her mother works, she didn't want to look. A sense of familiarity pulls her back to that horrible night where the figures escaped from that burning hole in the sky. Anger. Fear. Frustration. Inability to do anything caught up with her, seeing their pet getting stomped as she hid from behind the safety of a closet door.
It ate her dog.
Tiny fists made a smashing at the bank, the ATM never stood a chance. Security guards can't do a thing, if she were a little girl it would have been different but in this case she has gotten touched by the other side. Her hands and feet carry more power than a truck each, the woman didn't want to use her gun either. Who would point a weapon at a twelve year old?
She's a nice kid, that was what her parents told Dale at the hospital.They wanted her to come back, he promised them that everything will be alright. Her father suffered grievous injuries, so her mother told him everything about the daughter that he can use to find her. With the last words spoken before she rested he takes off into the air, feet as fast as the wind separated him from all obstacles. Passing blurred faces as they felt a breeze.
Wilma, the security guard did the sensible thing. She told the people to escape from the back door as she tries to stall the kid before backup arrives. Her handgun is holstered on her side, but she pulls out her taser just in case.
"They had to move away, Can't let the policemen in, they will be casualties. Guns are bad for children." Dale arrived on the street across the bank. "What I can do is divert them of another case, twenty dollars to the man over there to hand in some evidence of a drug dealer's hideout. Let them do the human stuff." eyes did not make of the man walking on the air, an oriental man and his friends ran to the police station several blocks away after getting the slip of Old Hickory. Dale messed the Alarm system in the bank, he will pay someone to repair it later anonymously but first he has to diffuse the problem.
The woman in the bank is doing a good job, but she needs to get out since the girl is doing the best that she can to hold back the corruptive energies that have infected her mind. It is nothing like demonic possession, but rather an 'urge' one that tells her to wreck things. If she snaps 'Wilma' judging by her name tag will be reduced into pastrami, however there is Dale. He immediately swapped locations with the security guard, placed her in a seat on a nearby restaurant and paid for a sandwich. {I can take it} He drops his weapon at the door, approaching with open arms noticing as her colours began to change.
Without warning she punched as hard as she can, he felt sadness in her fist. He also felt as if a car had crashed into his face, the back of his head crashed to the counter immediately. He hadn't realised that the punch took his feet off the tiled floors and managed to send him momentarily flying. He moved away before a her body followed after, she landed on his previous spot. The counter was gone, ruined under a pair of blue skechers.
Today is that day where he gets beat a kid wearing hello kitty, Dale followed the legendary spectacle between ali and foreman, because he doesn't want to hurt her. No way in hell would he raise his fists against a child, even if she has strength on her legs that can be used to tag him. Its a shame that from observation and several punches that the girl has better form that he does when it comes to fighting.
He finally stopped at a corner where he planted both feet, hands are lowered so that she can hit him exactly where she wants. Jeans, she kicked him on the knee. Goals are simple, demonic energy is powerful but for the new host it strains the body. Dale will put his mettle to the test, laying down his endurance on the line. Every punch that didn't sent him to sleep will be spent on pushing her closer to exhaustion. The road is a long and painful path, but it is the way of his life. She didn't punch in combinations, but she is a swarmer. By her height she aims well into the gut, occasionally adding some kicks to his shins and mixing in some jumping attacks.
Eye contact was made, from one bruised eye into a pair of young ones. The victim, confused. Scared. Letting go. Getting caught in the moment when his old guilt resurfaced, that night that took away two lives. Haunting him, part of the motivation that made him help others. An event that made him refuse to use lethal means, the first and the second happened on an accident. It is his vow that whenever he is conscious these things would not repeat. When his senses come back he received a punch that shook his face.
Taking the hurt since it is better him than someone else, since he can take it. Helping when other's wont, fighting when others cant. It is his responsibility it is his life.
It is his choice.
During her rush of strikes he did her best to contain her anger, making sure that all of it is concentrated on him. For he saw a veil of thorns, blinding her eyes. Cutting inside, pricking her heart and piercing out. It is caustic and dangerous for her, he extends his invisible touch to alleviate her pain. All the way from the first punch, changing the colours slowly to bring her back to the good times. Her mother. Her father. Her dog. In between every hit that rattled his skull.
punches that are counted by the seconds stretched into minutes, combinations that are counted by the minutes moved into hours, emotions that lasted for hours felt as if they were about to reach for days. One day that would not extend into a week, one day that will be contained within a few hours. A few hours that are used for that right moment. A broken nose, used to lift her sorrows.
She began to feel for her actions, fist covered in someone else's blood. Her humanity getting dominance over the intoxicating effect from the dimensional rip. The thorns began to change, he can see green instead of the previous colours. He made the move, all for nothing.
A hug.
She did not fight, her arms are fatigued.
"What's your name?"
He reminded her of her father.
"Mia. Mia Hoy"
Not long ago she had an episode of anger, her father calmed her down.
"It's Over, It's all over. Go home kid, your family is waiting."
tears flowed down her cheeks, he can envision flowers.
Three days later her mother got out of hospital and an 'anonymous individual' paid for renovation , in the kitchen there is a note with a bar of Hershey's.
Before Mia got a chance to read it her mother called her outside, she was ecstatic. Upon hearing barking the chocolate bar was dropped to the floor.
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