It took me a while, but I made it.

Thanks for being so patient with me. I'm gonna work on LMB and a Christmas Oneshot like last year before heading back to Hello World Arc 2.

Chapter 5

Trick

Miller scowled as he navigated the brightly lit street, whilst a group of three teenagers crossed the road in front of him, dressed in various colorful costumes as bags and baskets of candy hung from their hands. Almost every house was covered in decorations—bats, jack-o'-lanterns and plastic gravestones, with mechanical skeletons crudely cackling from their hunched positions over the faux stones. And then there were the children. Children everywhere. Big and small, wearing masks and long flowing robes, striped jumpsuits and whatever mad manner of clothing kids seemed to thin was appropriate for Halloween. If he'd been on duty, he'd be arresting half the stuff they were carrying around. Whether those chainsaws were fake or not, someone would have their eye taken out by them by the end of the night.

But that wasn't his concern right now. He was more focused on the figure he'd seen maneuvering their way through the densely packed crowd. The figure looked like Amanda.

It'd been a while since he'd last seen her. But that figure in the crowd in the dark hoodie… it had to be her. She was wearing a mask, and a terrifying one at that, but that wasn't enough to conceal her identity. The hoodie was a dead ringer. And Miller knew the girl well enough to recognize the way that she walked. The slinky, yet somehow stiff movements were distinctive. Yep, that was Amanda, alright.

A kid in a Ghostface costume accidentally bumped into her, causing her to whirl back briefly to look at him, before continuing to weave through the crowd. The slight glimpse he got of her hair all but confirmed her identity. Miller cursed as the car in front of him suddenly stopped, letting out a group of kids, all of them dressed as various horror slashers. Jason, Freddy Kruger, Michael Myers… did parents even care what they let their kids watch these days?

Amanda appeared to be watching the children as they got out of the car before her attention went to the car itself. It was just Miller's luck that she looked a little more to the left. And she laid her eyes on him. The two of them were completely still for a few moments. Miller reached for the door handle, and Amanda took off. Miller opened the door, abandoning his car in favor of pursuing Amanda on foot, to the protests of the cars behind him. The girl was far too agile—she casually vaulted over a wooden fence, unrepentantly kicking off a kid's toy crown with one of her legs. The kid screeched something unholy as Miller passed him in pursuit of the masked girl. She didn't look back, just kept on running. She crossed the road, sliding over the hood of a car and jumping over a kid who'd fallen on the footpath. Miller had no hope of catching up with her. Not like this.

Amanda proceeded to push aside two girls dressed as princesses, ignoring their cries of protest before vanishing behind a large tree… and not coming out on the other side.

Fuck.

He'd known she had abilities. But… teleportation?

That was just bullshit. And if Amanda was hiding behind the tree, he'd eat his hat.

When he got home, of course.

But no. She definitely wasn't. The crowd kept walking, and the space behind the tree was most definitely not occupied. Amanda was gone again, vanished into the shadows.

It took him only a few more seconds to realize that as she'd walked through the crowd, it had been in the direction of her house. It took him another few seconds to realize that she might actually be going there, no matter how obvious it was. Another second was spent pondering what she might be doing, and then he was running again. He ignored the pain in his chest, his gasping breaths as he maneuvered around men and women, teens and toddlers, baskets of candy and plastic props, Halloween decorations and leafless trees. His feet crunched against the thick carpet of orange, red and yellow, highlighted further by the setting sun. Someone from behind him tried to grab hold of his jacket; he ripped them off, continuing in pursuit of Amanda. He didn't have time for such trivial matters. He was looking for Amanda, and if she was where he thought she was…

He saw her house. Standing, quiet, alone, undecorated. A single smattering of white in the middle of a rainbow. Miller ran, the crowd shouted, his hand knocked a young child's candy bowl out of their hands. Their cries could still be heard as he continued to navigate the flood of faces and masks, grinning goblins, eloquent fairies, blood smattered killers and all other sorts of unworldly creatures. A hand reached out—he knocked it aside. He reached the front yard, the house untouched, and the grass growing wild and twisted. And he saw the shadow in the window.

Slowly, Miller crept closer to the door, paying close attention to the shadow.

That's too still to be alive.

Was Amanda even alive, at this point? She was the Slender Man's Proxy. Were those even alive? Or were they long gone?

The shadow in the window moved slowly as if turning its head towards him. And then it froze. Just for a second or two, maybe. He imagined the old clock inside the house, ticking and ticking as they stared at each other. The shadow tilted. Miller inched forwards. And then it shot upwards. Miller ran for the door, thinking that Amanda was going to escape.

But then there was a single click, the sliding of a latch, metal against metal, and Amanda was standing in the open doorway, hood down, hair brushed out of her face, and the grinning mask dangling precociously from her fingers.

"Well? Are you going to come in?" It was so… so strange. Her voice didn't sound any different. And yet he felt as if the person talking to him was far older and mature than the scared girl he'd talked too not long ago. The one who cowered and whimpered and lived with her terrible, abusive mother, but kept silent so that things wouldn't get worse for her. She didn't look so scared anymore.

Silently, Miller walked the last few steps, Amanda casually stepping aside as if letting in an old friend.

Is that what she thinks we are?

Miller had never been able to help her. Not with the abuse, not with her other problems… but he could help her now.

If only she would let him.

xXx

Amanda closed the door, the sound of the sliding latch and the loud click punctuating the silence as Chief Miller stared, confused, worried. Misunderstanding everything. She could see it in his eyes, from the moment she'd noticed him following her. She shouldn't have run, really. She'd known he'd find her, known he'd figure out where she was going. And she'd wanted to talk to him, hadn't she? After all, the man had tried his best.

"Why were you following me?" she asked, tracking Chief Miller's eyes with her own. Her fingers gripped the mask tighter. The man breathed deeply, slightly lowering herself to match her height better. He was going to try and manipulate her, try to come across as more friendly. "Don't do that. I don't have time for your mind games—if you want to talk to me, you talk to me the same way you'd talk to anybody. You say your piece, and then you leave. So say it. What do you want?" The Chief shifted uncomfortably back to his original height, before sighing.

"Look, Amanda—"

"Don't call me that." Her voice was quiet, laced with a cold tension. She gritted her teeth as her fingers tightened even more around the rim of the mask. She felt her shadow beginning to shift, ever so slightly. "Not here. Not while I'm out."

"What?"

"Don't call me that."

"No, I mean, what do you mean when you say that you're out?"

Oh.

You idiot.

"That doesn't concern you."

"I'm pretty sure it does."

"No," Amanda said, shaking her head. "It doesn't. It concerns me and all other affected parties. Those don't include you, Chief Miller. Actually, you haven't answered my first question. Why the fuck were you following me?"

"I wasn't, at first. I didn't even know you'd be there."

"Not an explanation."

"Amanda, don't make this harder than this needs to be." The girl laughed, shaking her head.

"Me? I'm making this harder than this needs to be? Hate to break it to you Chief, but I don't see myself doing anything to make this harder. As far as I can tell, I'm asking you a question, and you're trying to avoid it. I don't like that." Amanda let the dagger emerge from the shadows within her right sleeve. It flew out in a single fluid motion, her hand catching it before it went too far. The chain swung as the metal ring fell into her other hand. "Now, answer the question." She moved the ring to the hand holding the dagger, fingers shifting to make room before something else fell into her hand.

"Amanda—wait, is that a whetstone?" he asked as Amanda began repetitively scraping the blade over the stone. She nodded, before letting the stone fall out of her grasp. It quickly fell to the ground, swallowed up by her shadow, which reared up to envelop it in darkness before reverting to its regular state.

"Oh, don't worry," she said when she saw the concern on his face. "This isn't for you. I'm just getting ready."

"Is that why you're out here? To kill more people?" Amanda frowned.

"You were called in for that? Fuck." She allowed the blade to dangle from its chain, absentmindedly swinging it back and forth by her side like a pendulum. She walked past Chief Miller, on her way to the backyard. "He didn't mention that to me. But hey, it wouldn't have made much of difference, I guess."

"Amanda," he said as he followed after her, "what are you going to do?"

"Like I told you, it doesn't concern you." Amanda opened the door to the backyard, taking in the withering plants, the uncut grass. She slipped her mask on, pulling the strap behind her head. Shadows leaked from her eyes, spilled out between the sharpened jaws, resembling an unholy waterfall of darkness. "If you have nothing else to add, then you should probably leave."

"Amanda, you don't have to do this."

"I told you not to call me that."

"I don't care, goddammit. You don't have to kill just because he told you to." Even with the mask on, she looked legitimately offended by what he had said.

"Is that why you think I'm doing this? God, I'm not doing this just because he told me to. I'm helping people, Chief Miller," she said in exasperation. "Really helping. How many criminals do you allow to walk free? How many murderers get away because there wasn't enough evidence, even if everyone knows that they did it? How many people end up leaving prison and committing crimes again, because you thought they could be reformed? It's bullshit, all of it. The whole system is a fucking lie!" She turned to look at him. "You know it's true, Chief. Open your eyes. The system isn't working."

"But you don't need to kill. Killing—"

"Don't give me that bullshit," Amanda shot back. "You can say as much as you want that killing will only make me as bad as they are. But there's a difference, see; if I kill, it's for a good reason. They, on the other hand, do it for pleasure. I get rid of people like that. We get rid of scum like that."

"Amanda—"

"Stop saying that!" she screamed at him, her voice horribly distorted by her mask. "Stop fucking saying that! I am not Amanda! Not here, not now, not ever to you. I'm Iron Maiden, goddammit. Iron Maiden."

"Whatever he's been saying to you—"

"He's been saying nothing strange, Miller. You're the one who's trying to manipulate me."

"You're talking about murder like you're just running an errand."

"That's exactly what I'm doing."

"You're talking about killing someone," the man cried. "This… this isn't you!"

"Oh, it's me, alright," Amanda—no, Iron Maiden, said calmly. "People die every day. Car accidents, overdoses, murders… if I kill a couple more, what's the difference? People still die. We still live in this… this kingdom of bullshit. All I'm doing is lowering the death toll in the foreseeable future. Tell me I'm wrong, Chief. Tell me I'm wrong, to my face, and say it like you mean it."

Chief Miller was silent. She knew he wanted to, so, so badly. It was on the tip of his tongue. She watched him silently as he opened his mouth to say it, say it to her face... and his expression changed, his face slipping. He put his lips back together, going back to silently staring at her. The Iron Maiden nodded, tilting her head.

"Are you going to try and stop me?" she asked. "Tell me, Chief. Come on." She watched the emotions, the expressions, as they warred for control of his face.

"Will you kill me if I do?" He replied with a question, equally relevant. The Proxy made a gesture with her hand, once to both sides, right and left.

"Not unless I have to," she finally said. "Not unless you force me to do it. Are you going to?" She watched. He did too. She moved, ever so slightly, taking a single step backward. The Chief's hand inched towards his gun. That was all the answer she needed.

The shadow beneath her feet extended, bursting into action as dozens of dark tendrils exploded out of its endless depths. The ground shook, the man stumbling back, hand desperately trying to grab at his gun. The thrashing limbs slammed into the floor, the walls, the ceiling, plaster raining down upon them, spider webs of cracks forming in the walls with each impact. The flood of darkness moved, and Miller ran. Bladed tentacles shot out of the inky blackness, burying themselves into plaster and floorboards alike, gouging large tears into the formerly spotless surfaces. Chief Miller, finally getting a handle on his gun, pulled the trigger repeatedly as he ran backward. The projectiles disappeared in the endless dark, the shadow swallowing them whole as the tentacles continued to reach towards him, undaunted by his retaliation. A new shape pushed itself out of the shadow, a gaping maw filled with rows upon rows of serrated jaws, two blank circles above it where its eyes would have been. It took Miller a few moments before he realized what the face was—and then he was backed up against the door, his hands scrabbling to slide the latch, abandoning his gun to be swallowed by the shadow. He shoved the door open, hurling himself through the entrance before he heard a deafening series of blasts behind him, the entire street suddenly screaming, children crying, men and women stampeding away from the house. Miller, lying on his back, pushed himself up as he groaned in pain.

The front door had been torn from its hinges; it was lying on the ground next to him, scratched and scraped, chunks of it torn out, now scattered throughout the unrestrained grass. Miller stared at the doorway, its paint peeling, the frame torn and broken. The shadow was gone.

He rushed to his feet, running back into the house, unwilling to believe it. Unwilling to accept the fact that Amanda… that Amanda had just done that to him. He searched the hallway, saw the door open, the cool night air flowing into the house. Her footprints were non-existent as if she'd never gone outside. But he knew better.

Miller was silent as he looked back at the house, at the hallway, now torn apart, enormous claw marks engraved into the walls, as if some wild beast had rampaged through it. Amanda had done this. Amanda had released that… that thing, and left. Left with the creature which had worn that face in the shadows. The mask of the Iron Maiden.

xXx

She was admittedly surprised that no one paid much attention to her. Her mask, while unique, was not something that stood out amongst the flood of other costumed people. Serial killers, fantastical creatures, film characters… what was one mask amongst all that?
Nothing. That was what.

Amanda walked with a purpose, scanning the crowd of faces for the person she was looking for. It would be difficult, considering that most of the people here were wearing masks. But well, she knew several things about her target.

Rob Banks was a tall, brunette male, aged 18 and had last been seen on his social media wearing a gas mask and fake tactical combat gear. That costume happened to be worn by exactly three people at this party, who she had seen dipping in and out of the crowd throughout the course of the party. One of them had taken off his mask and was now gulping down a beer with his friends. That definitely wasn't Rob Banks. And there were still two others roaming around. One currently heading to the restrooms, the other in the middle of a crowd of teens currently gathered around a computer. And he was blonde, so that wasn't Banks either. What they were watching, she wasn't sure, but whatever it was, from the sound of their moans, they were obviously jerking off to it.

Amanda sidestepped two dancing skeletons, weaving in between some sort of fish monster and someone wearing a Voldemort costume. Her hand was down, prepared to catch the knife when she needed it to fall into her hand when she felt the arm around her waist.

She froze. The world kept moving. Another arm. A hand inched upwards, towards her breast. She froze. She couldn't—

"What's up, sweet cheeks? Nice ass." The voice was female, surprisingly, and sounded as if its owner was incredibly drunk. Amanda wrestled against the girl's grip, but her grasp was firm. "Aww, can't have you running, can we? He'd get mad if you did." She felt a shiver creep down her spine.

Who the fuck—

"You want to watch your language there. Too many expletives can't be good for you." Amanda twisted her head around to look at her assailant and froze once more. She was met by a reptilian face, jaws wide, fangs abundant, and two large black eyes staring at her emotionlessly. And there in the center of the mask's right eye, crudely scratched into the glass, was the Operator Symbol.

"Hey, darling. How you holding up?" The mask didn't move as she spoke, but its wearer somehow managed to convey an unreal level of emotion through the way she talked. She felt the hand creeping higher. And then higher.

"Stop." She was aware of how desperate she sounded, how pathetic, but that simple action, the arm snaking around her waist, it had paralyzed her. She remembered waking up in that hospital, seeing him on top of her, forcing himself onto her, into her—

Her shadow got out. Blades and tendrils exploded from the darkness by the dozens, slicing through thin air and costumes, Amanda instantly feeling the lizard girl's grip to be absent as the darkness spread. There were shouts of horror and confusion, people stampeding towards the door as the shadow continued to lash out, its tendrils whipping back and forth in an attempt to find the girl and… and…

Crush her burn her kill her yes no don't let her touch me stop touching me—

"Gotta hand it to you, darling. You're fast." Amanda shakily looked up, her body still stiff as she slowly recovered from her panic attack. Lizard girl was hanging from the ceiling, her hood pulled back to reveal the entirety of the mask. It covered her head entirely, all the way down to her neck at the very least—it continued down to underneath her shirt. The entire thing was covered in yellow and orange scales, a bony crest jutting out of the forehead. The jaws were less jaws and more of a beak full of sharpened teeth, which were now snapping mechanically, even when the girl wasn't talking. On her hands she wore gloves which ended with pointed claws on each finger; those hadn't been there before. Retractable, perhaps? Her feet received similar treatment, claws buried into the ceiling to prevent her from falling. The way she hung, she looked entirely natural, as if she was standing upright. Lizard girl grinned at Amanda, waving nonchalantly as if she hadn't just molested her.

You fucking—

"I told you to watch your language," the girl said, suddenly sounding extremely serious, as costumed partygoers continued to stream out of the house. "And my name ain't Lizard Girl, sweet cheeks."

"Then who the hell are you?!" Amanda screamed. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"How many times have I—oh, fuck it. You're not even listening." The girl sighed, then chuckled playfully. "The name's Sunnyside," she said, accompanying her words with another casual wave. "And I think you know who I am, Amanda. Or should I say, Iron Maiden?" Lizard girl—Sunnyside—began to move, stepping backwards as if she were walking on the ground. "C'mon. I know you recognize it. Come out and say it." There was something about Sunnyside's demeanor that screamed madness—the girl was completely loopy, and it was evident in the way she moved, the way she talked, the way she kept laughing at random moments even when neither of them had said anything.

"Are you talking about the Operator Symbol?" she asked, her eyes darting to the bathroom, which she knew Banks had yet to exit from. She struggled to rein in her shadow, which was still pulsing outwards like a flailing jellyfish. "You're with him?"

"You don't need to ask that question, honey," Sunnyside said to her pleasantly. "The Operator… now, he's a little crazy, probably even crazier than me—I know, right? Unbelievable—but the guy knows what he's doing. Everything he does, everything he says, he says it for a reason and most of the time? It's a darn good one. So when Mister Bandage Face tells me that you, Mandy—can I call you Mandy? I think I will—when he tells us you need to go kaput, Mandy dear, he means it. And he means that you need to go for a reason. So fuck it all, right, Mandy? You need to die, full stop. And don't look at me like that. You fucking came here to kill someone too. Because he told you, right? We're in the same situation right here."

"If you know why I'm here, you know what Banks did," Amanda rebutted fiercely. "You know that he needs to go. And fuck no, you're not allowed to call me Mandy."

"I'm not?" Sunnyside asked, looking hurt. "But Mandy dearest—oh, fine. Fine, fine, fine. I bloody know what Banks did," she said, and the serious tone returned. "He's a little bastard, isn't he? Fucking hate his kind, believe me. But hell, Mr. O's orders come first, and you know what? When it comes down to you or Banks, I couldn't give two shits about him. You, though? Bandage Face wants you." Sunnyside brandished her claws, flicking them upwards—downwards, actually—with glee. "As far as I'm concerned, Banks can go fuck off and live as long as he doesn't get in my way. I'm interested in you, Mandy girl. And not in a romantic way."

"Uh-huh! She's already taken!" Amanda spun to the left as she heard another voice ring out. It disturbed her to know that the girl standing there was one that she had seen, yet hardly paid attention to. She was wearing a red and black dress which cut off at the knees, and a mask which resembled an enormous spider with its legs wrapped around her torso. She wore armored panels on both shoulders, the left of which the Operator Symbol was emblazoned with scarlet paint. The right shoulder panel showed off a glowing red hourglass, with tiny little lines branching off which Amanda assumed to be spider legs.

"And you are…?" Amanda said sarcastically. This had been going on for way too long already.

"Hourglass, at your service!" The girl did a cutesy twirl before bowing deeply. "And how are you, this fine evening?"

"Just so you know," Sunnyside said with a grin, "she isn't crazy. She just thinks it's funny." Hourglass giggled in response, waving up at the girl hanging from the ceiling.

"Hi Sunny!" she said cheerily, teetering over on the edge of her toes.

"Sup, Arach-Kid. You're late to the party."

"Sorry. Traffic was bad." She shrugged. "Halloween, remember? Gets the kids crazy~." Sunnyside chuckled.

"See, Mandy girl? She's not totally insane."

"Whee!" Hourglass said, as if she was trying to prove Sunnyside wrong.

"She tries her best, though," the reptilian faced girl said, continuing on as if Hourglass hadn't said anything at all. "Anyway, as I said, Bandage Face—"

"The Operator wants to kill me, yeah. I'm not surprised," Amanda said drily. "You've said that a couple of times now."

"Well, that's how information sinks in, right?" Sunnyside said cheerily. "But yeah. So, uh, I find that if you ask nicely, people tend to have a higher chance of complying with your requests. So, I was wondering—"

"I don't give you permission to kill me," Amanda said, cutting them off. "Sorry." She eyes Banks as he came out of the bathroom. He stared at the scene in the living room, Sunnyside and Hourglass both turning towards him.

"Oh, why does this always happen?" Sunnyside muttered. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Mandy." Suddenly, the Proxy was falling from the ceiling like a stone, her claws drawn and teeth brandished. Amanda leaped backward, catching the kyoketsu-shoge as it fell into her hand and beginning to swing the blade in a controlled circular motion. Sunnyside landed where she'd been just moments before, her impact accompanied by a loud thud, dust raining from the ceiling. Amanda released her shadow, the tendrils and blades returning from the void to dart out towards Sunnyside and Hourglass. Sunnyside easily leaped over the first lashing tendril, before ducking under the next and rolling to avoid three more burying themselves into the floor behind her. Hourglass held out her arms, aiming the palms of her hands towards the mass of tendrils approaching her—

—and then they slowed dramatically, moving like a man through molasses. Hourglass twirled to avoid the one stray tendril that she missed, giggling as she moved past the ones which were currently being slowed down. Amanda stared in confusion as she tried to move the tendrils; they moved, sure, but they were slow, sluggish as if time was being—

She looked back at Hourglass, who aimed her hands at another group of tentacles, which froze almost completely in place. Immediately, the tendrils she had frozen earlier returned to normal speed, whipping around the chase Hourglass again.

Fuck. She can freeze time.

Amanda saw Banks running, his foot getting caught in a hole her tendrils had made in the floor. She released the blade of her kyoketsu-shoge, willing the shadows to guide it towards her target quickly and smoothly. However, before the blade could make even half the distance, she was tackled to the floor by Sunnyside, causing her to tug the chain out of the air. The knife was pulled towards the ground, buying more time for Banks as Sunnyside scratched at Amanda's face. The claws glanced off the metal to little effect, but the impact caused her unprotected skull to slam into the back of the floor, dazing her. Sunnyside's jaws clacked together as she reared her hand back again, but she suddenly jumped backward, moments before Amanda's shadow burst out of her body once more, the gaping maw beginning to rapidly form before Hourglass promptly froze it in place.

The time manipulator dashed forwards, jumping in the air and delivering a scissor kick to Amanda's face. She barely managed to duck underneath the blow before throwing the metal ring up into the air, slamming into Hourglass' back. Sunnyside roared in outrage, speeding towards Amanda throwing a punch at her stomach. The Iron Maiden stepped backward, barely avoiding the thirst blow, but unable to miss the Proxy's follow up attack, which slammed into her shoulder with all the force of a sledgehammer. Amanda cried out in pain as she clutched at her shoulder, the splintered bone spearing into her flesh from the inside out as Sunnyside grinned wickedly.

"Aww, something wrong?" Sunnyside asked. "Did I hit you too hard?" She flung her arm outwards, slapping Amanda's mask. While her claws didn't penetrate, her head was painfully nocked to the side; she felt herself spitting blood onto the inside of her mask. Tendrils began wrapping around Amanda's body, shielding her from Sunnyside's relentless attacks. The Proxy continued to scratch uselessly at the thrashing mass of darkness, whilst Hourglass began to get up, aiming for Amanda's body. Noticing Hourglass' movements, Amanda used her shadows to propel her body away from the two, the ball of writhing tentacles shooting across the room and slamming into Banks just before he reached the door. The teen exploded, his blood and innards painting the floor, walls, and ceiling like a disturbing arts and crafts project. Amanda kept going, her form bursting through the wall and scattering Banks' remains as it went.

The shadows retraced, and Amanda tumbled painfully onto the ground, her arm snapping into an awkward position as the bone ground against itself, splintering even further. Her scream of pain was drowned out as the shadows emerged once more, this time resembling imitations of her kyoketsu-shoge. The knives on chains shot forwards, racing towards Sunnyside and accelerating quickly. The lizard-themed Proxy shot onto the ceiling, grabbing it with her claws in order to avoid the storm of blades. Hourglass blasted the area she was standing on with one of her time fields, effectively preventing herself from being harmed by the blades. The proxy was still moving at normal speed from within the field, as was evident by the way she started speaking.

"That's so unfair," she grumbled as she watched Amanda pathetically attempting to wrench herself upwards with the fence, before falling down to the floor with an earthen thud. "She can fly."

"You can stop time," Sunnyside pointed out cheerfully. "You can't really complain. People would die to have an ability like yours."

"Except I was experimented on before I got those powers! This chick was born with them and didn't even know it!"

"Fate's a bitch, huh?" Sunnyside dropped down from her place on the ceiling as Amanda's attack ceased, the blade's no longer flying. Hourglass promptly canceled her time field, allowing the tips of the shadow weapons to dissipate into thin air. "You'd think she'd be harder to deal with, but to be honest, that was pathetic."

"Easy for you to say," Hourglass grumbled. "My back is killing me."

Amanda scrabbled around in the grass, her fingers clenching around uncovered earth and uselessly pulling it free from the ground. The shadows attempted to lift her up, then disappeared only a second or two later. She heard Sunnyside snicker, her shoes plodding against the earth as she and Hourglass emerged from the house.

"How you doing, girl?" Sunnyside knelt down next to her, putting a hand on Amanda's mask. "A little under the weather?" The shadows flickered weakly before dying, reverting to their regular state. "That bad huh? Shit, girl, you look like you've been through hell and back." She traced her fingers along the mask's rim, gently prising it up. "Let me take a look at you. Make sure you're all right." The latter statement was accompanied by a disturbing chuckle, as Sunnyside pulled the mask off Amanda's face, tossing it away in glee as she leered down at her. Amanda tried not to shakes as she felt Sunnyside's claws on her face. The moment she felt the blades slicing into her skin, she knew she'd failed.

"Sh. Sh, sh… quiet. Be still. Don't wanna cut yourself anymore, do ya?"

"Sunnyside." Any trace of the playfulness previously plaguing Hourglass' voice was completely absent. The girl's hands were clenched into fists, shaking irately. "Stop playing around."

"What? I'm just having fun," the Proxy protested before she turned to look at her partner. "What's got you so mad?"

"You promised. You said you wouldn't do stuff like this anymore. You said you'd stop playing with them."

"Humans?"

"You know what I mean. You know exactly what I fucking mean, Sunny!"

"Well, sorry, I guess." Sunnyside withdrew her claws, standing up. "I forgot. Heat of the moment, you know."

"That's complete bullshit. When we started dating, we had an agreement—"

"I'm well aware."

"Then why do you keep doing things like this? Every time, every goddamned time, Sunny. Every goddamned—oh god!"

Amanda's shadow, its strength returned, lashed violently at Sunnyside, the Proxy being flung into the air by the unexpected blow. Hourglass screamed, backing away and raising her arms, poised and aimed towards Amanda. The Iron Maiden, though barely conscious, managed to evade the blast by mere centimeters, as her shadows blasted her off towards Sunnyside. The Proxy was still in the air when Amanda intercepted her, falling down to the ground near the forest. The kyoketsu-shoge propelled itself from within the shadows, racing ahead of the rest of the amorphous mass to stab Sunnyside through the leg. The Proxy, thrashing mindlessly, claws swiping uselessly at the air. Amanda's tendrils braced against the earth, halting her before she could hit the ground. Sunnyside, still hanging from the chain, screamed as her foot was torn off by the whiplash from the kyoketsu-shoge being pulled back by Amanda. The resulting explosion of flesh and blood would have sickened most—the Proxy's foot had been completely snapped off, chunks of meat hanging limply from the bleeding stump. The white bone was shattered, tiny splinters scattered across the ground and embedded into Sunnyside's own leg.

Amanda allowed the tendrils to slowly lower herself to the ground, panting loudly as the shadows began to retract. Her shoulder, whilst not healed, had been numbed of pain by one of Laughing Jack's lifesaving candies. She mentally noted to thank him once she got back home.

Sunnyside pulled her bloody stump towards herself, whimpering a little as her body quivered uncontrollably. Any trace of the cruel and mocking persona she had worn previously had vanished—she looked pathetic. Like a stupid, worthless, utterly pathetic weakling. And as she stared at Sunnyside, groaning on the floor, shaking wildly, Amanda realized something. When she had killed those human traffickers, burst Banks open, pierced her blade through Sunnyside's leg and promptly torn off her foot… she'd gotten a rush. It had been brief, sudden. But watching the Proxy suffering? In pain? It was just so…

It was hilarious.

She thought it was hilarious. Sunnyside was in agony, Hourglass was probably immeasurably worried, and Amanda just stood there, clutching her shoulder. Watching someone suffer and getting pleasure out of it.

This is who I am.

She remembered what she'd said to Chief Miller.

Oh, it's me, alright.

She hadn't realized how much she'd meant those words when she'd said them—they'd been out of her mouth before she could even consider what she meant. But looking back on them now? She realized. She realized everything. There had been a sense of satisfaction she'd gotten, every time she'd killed. Mixed in with horror, sure, but in the midst of it all, there's been a level of enjoyment which would have disgusted the Amanda of yesterday. The Amanda standing over her prey, the Iron Maiden? She brushed it off like it was nothing.

And she was glad.

"Sunny!" Amanda felt herself smiling when she heard Hourglass calling out, though she refused to turn her back on Sunnyside. And yet, Hourglass would undoubtedly be trying to freeze her in time…

Making her decision, Amanda released her shadow, spikes as dark as midnight exploding from her back like a porcupine, extending further until she resembled an enormous sea urchin. She didn't stop when she felt several of her bladed shadows freeze in place, just kept going, the others accelerating and changing directions to better match the girl's position. Every time Hourglass fired another blast to freeze more tentacles in place, the ones frozen previously would immediately be free of the effect. It was a hopeless endeavor, the tendrils only growing closer and closer towards her with every blast, every strike.

And then the girl changed her strategy—she began to blast the ground beneath her feet, the tentacles reaching towards her caught in the splash effect. She blasted continually, the tentacles slowing whenever they came anywhere close to her. Hourglass strode confidently, no longer hindered by Amanda's attacks, walking forward undaunted. Amanda's shadow retracted back into itself, instead bursting out along the ground in a wall of spikes to block Hourglass' steady advance. Another blast and the wall was frozen before it could grow. The Proxy jumped over the low shadows, blasting the ground again as Amanda raised another row of spikes. The Iron Maiden grabbed Sunnyside, blasting herself upwards again. Nothing but empty air and an enormous drop beneath her.

Some hundred feet or so in the air, Amanda changed her trajectory, dragging a battered Sunnyside behind her as she let out another burst of shadow at an upward angle, shifting directions to where Hourglass stood with hands raised. She let out a blast; Amanda created a wall of shadows in front of her, tanking the blast. Another blast fired off and directed to the spiked tendrils looming over Amanda's temporary barrier. The spikes along the top froze, the rest of the wall withdrawing back into the thrashing mass now racing down upon the earth, tendrils trailing aimlessly and jaws slowly forming between rows upon rows of rippling darkness, eyeholes widening above it like unholy spotlights. The face of the Iron Maiden was back.

It only lasted for a second; a single blast from Hourglass and the center of the mask was frozen, the rest of it flowing over it to make up for it. Amanda directed dozens, hundreds, of blackened tendrils towards the ground, the storm of appendages battering and skewering the earth. Explosions of overturned dust, uprooted plants and grass, grey stones bursting as the tendrils made contact, taking hold, getting a grip. And with every tendril, Hourglass fired, each blast aimed at the enormous black mass, getting closer and closer, blotting out the sky as it spread wider and thinner, each layer frozen another hindrance to it, another obstacle.

Amanda burst off to the side, leaving the dark mass in its place as she raced down one of the tendrils, abandoning the large thrashing eyesore as bait for Hourglass to blast at. The Proxy kept firing, Amanda kept the tendrils going, and as the Iron Maiden reached the earth, raising her hand, the battle was won. From the tendril in which she was located shadows sprouted like vines, twisting and forking in the air like dark lightning and reaching out towards the Proxy, who promptly froze the area around her.

Hourglass danced out of the way of the first strike of lightning, running towards Amanda as the girl shifted to the left, moving the tendril' place and changing with it. Sunnyside's head was dragged along the ground, the Proxy long unconscious since the moment they first blasted off. And then she froze.

Hourglass trembled, stumbling as she walked towards the Iron Maiden's frozen form, Sunnyside, paralyzed next to her, breathing loudly.

"Oh, god," she muttered as she dragged the other Proxy out of the blast zone, carrying her bridal style before running, faster and faster, her bare feet beginning to ache as she raced over the hard ground and sharp stones cut into her skin. And in her arms, Sunnyside was still breathing, her leg still bleeding, eyes remaining closed. Hourglass panted as she left the Iron Maiden behind her. Saving Sunny was more important than killing that bitch anyways. They could get her later. When they had more help. For now, they needed to get home.

And she could use a shower.

xXx

It was almost midnight, and Corey Stanfield was running.

Just ten minutes ago she'd been relaxing in front of the television, feet up and head resting on a comfy pillow. Now she was running for her life.

How things changed…

She tore through the undergrowth, bushes, and shrubs hindering her escape as behind her, she felt the soft pattering of padded feet against the earth, crunching on the blanket of leaves on which they trudged, predator and prey. Corey paused briefly to catch her breath, leaning against a tree and panting heavily. She heard an inhuman growl from the darkness behind her, and then she was running once more.

The growling had been soft at first, barely noticeable among her screams of terror and the ominous sound of footsteps following her. Then, as she had continued to run and the footsteps had become more rapid, the growls had increased in volume. Slowly but surely, until they could have been two feet behind her.

And she never would have known.

Corey had seen the thing chasing her; at first, she had thought it to be a wolf. Then it had appeared to be just a normal, irregularly sized dog. She'd almost slowed down. But then again, a regular dog does not leaves claw marks as deep as the ones in her arms.

She'd raised her arms, trying to defend herself. A single swipe. That was all it had been. A single swipe and her flesh was torn, blood was exploding out of her arms, and that dog… it had smiled. Just smiled. Like it had just rolled over, done a stupid, meaningless trick. That smile… she could still see it.

The dog was there, all of a sudden, a dark blur in a forest full of shadows. Corey screamed, running faster, faster, but the dog matched her speed, its jaws widening to reveal rows upon rows of sharpened teeth. The thing was toying with her. Corey stumbled briefly, her foot catching on the loose root of a tree. It stopped her for less than a second, maybe even less than half. But it was enough.

Before she knew what was happening, she had been knocked onto the ground, her face in amongst the dirt and leaves, the dog's large body effortlessly holding her down as its slobber began to drip onto her back. Corey screamed into the ground, thrashing wildly in a futile attempt to free herself. But the dog remained, staying stock still on her back, growling menacingly as if giving her a warning. The moment Corey stopped struggling, the growling stopped.

Fuck. This thing is intelligent.

Feeling the creature's claws pressing down upon her hips and shoulders, Corey gasped out loud when she heard the sound of footsteps slowly approaching them. Though blind, she began to thrash once more, desperately trying to grab the approaching person's attention.

"H-Hey! Help—help me!" The footsteps failed to speed up. Corey felt her hope fading. The dog barked loudly, causing her to jolt in panic as the footsteps suddenly stopped. She was aware that the person was standing mere centimeters from her head.

"You can get off of her, Smile." Corey froze when she heard the girl's voice. It was cold, harsh. Disinterested. "She's not going to escape."

"We've thought so before," another voice said, directly on top of her. Corey jolted again upon realizing that the dog was talking. This was surreal. Far too surreal, it had to be a dream. "We had to chase that one guy from three months ago for another hour before we caught him again. You remember that?"

"The difference here, Smile, is that you've injured her. She'll bleed out anyway if she doesn't die from infection." Smile snorted, but Corey could feel the weight of the dog's body slowly easing off of her. The moment she was freed from the burden, she instantly scrambled up, her heart thumping in her chest as she tried to escape from her two captors. Suddenly there was an immense pain in her shoulder as a knife was plunged into her flash. Corey screamed, limply falling back to the ground on her side, clutching her injured shoulder. She opened her eyes, seeing the mask of the girl standing above her. Plain, white, nothing distinctive. Just… just a mask. "Look at her. She's pathetic. You think she could run?"

"Not in that state," the dog muttered, taking back his point. "But you just stabbed her in the shoulder."

"You're telling me I should have let her get to her feet?"

"Fuck no. I'm telling you that you did good, doing that."

"I appreciate it."

"Fuck you, Chaser. I did all the running. How did you get your name again?"

"I have a cramp, Smile."

"How'd you get that?"

"Slept in a weird position."

"Hah!"

Corey watched, confused, as her two accosters continued to bicker with each other. It seemed almost… almost normal. Like these were regular people. Except that, well, one was a dog, and the other was wearing a mask and had just stabbed her.

"Get it over with then, Chaser. Slit her open."

"You're horrifically graphic, there."

"I like to think I have a good reason, considering the person we just chased down."

"Ah. Very true. Speaking of which…" the girl with the mask turned to her victim. "Hello Corey." The woman shook as the masked girl crouched down to meet her gaze. "I bet you're feeling really confused right now, but don't worry. It's my job to explain everything. Smile is just the one who catches people." Somehow, Corey got the impression that the girl—Kate—was smiling underneath that plain white mask. "You see, we hunt people. Not all people, not regular people. No, we only go after the bad apples. The rapists, the murderers, the drug and sex traffickers… yeah. That kind of human." Corey shook her head.

"I'm just a regular woman. I-I'm a cashier. I'm a bartender on Saturdays—I'm not bad. I'm n—I'm normal." She could hear the shudder in her voice. The shakiness. Evidently, Kate could too. And she knew that she was lying through her teeth. Otherwise, they wouldn't have chased her, would they?

"Corey Stanfield," Kate began. "Aged thirty-two. Worked as a cashier for two years, a part-time bartender for less than six months. Two sisters, one brother." The masked girl paused. "Murderer of seven children." Corey closed her eyes. She knew that she was dead. She'd known the moment she'd tried to run into the forest, and the dog had kept following. There was no way out of this for her. "Aged five to eight, none of them even teenagers. Tell me, Corey, why'd you do it? Huh? This wasn't for business. It wasn't for a friend. Wasn't because you had some rage you just needed to dish out, and those kids were just there. No. This was passionate. I mean, you could have killed them with anything. A gun, a knife, fuck, you could have just run them over. But you choked them. Slowly. So tell me, why'd you do it?" When Corey remained silent, Kate simply sighed, shaking her head. "So it was just for kicks? Just because you wanted to. What about Rob Banks? Why did he help you get rid of the bodies?"

"I don't know a Rob Banks."

"That's bullshit," the dog—Smile—said. "Banks was at the location where the bodies were buried within a five-minute timeframe of the children's deaths. Don't lie. Why'd he help you?"

"It's obvious," Kate muttered. "They were fucking. An eighteen-year-old boy and a thirty-two-year-old woman, fucking. Yeah, I bet he would have gone to the moon and back if you asked him to." Kate reached forward, painfully wrenching the knife out of Corey's shoulder. Corey screamed, her face pale, limbs limp and weak. "The thing about people like you, Corey, is that you're shit. Scum of the earth. We kill people like you, and the public still gasps. But on the inside, they thank us, because fuck, if there's one more murderer dead, then why the fuck should they be sad? Why should they weep?" Kate shook her head. "No, no. They're happy. Pleased, even. And that's how I'm going to feel. When I kill you."

Corey didn't try to escape. She only stared. She stared Kate in the eyes, as the girl held the tip of the knife to her throat, preparing to execute her victim. Kate paused, lowering the knife for just a moment, nodding to Corey. An acknowledgment that she had existed, that she had fought, run, tried her best to survive. That whether she was a serial child murderer or a human being, Corey Stanfield had meant something, to someone, to something, to some people. That in her last moments, Corey Stanfield may not have gone down fighting, but she took it without fear.

Smile chuckled. "Well, at least she has balls." And that was the last thing Corey Stanfield heard before Kate plunged the knife into her throat, and the lights went out in her eyes.