There was something special about seeing someone so imposing so small. Chopped in half.
It'd taken effort to sniff out the flaws at first sight but now the girl was rank with them. She wasn't a model, just a frightened girl, running from the boogieman she'd picked a fight with.
More could be coaxed. Paige disappeared in a blur of pure speed and reappeared in front of Vanessa who gasped, their noses touched.
"Remember this? Probably not. Ya brotha hadn't unlocked much of it really." Paige said in Japanese.
That had to hurt, so Paige waited, bracing for Vanessa to take a swing, shoot a flame, anything.
She ran.
"Shame" Paige sighed.
The girl was doing her best. It wasn't much but she was committed to running. Something old and half-forgotten bubbled up her stomach, tingling under her skin.
Disappointment.
Paige jogged behind her, grabbing the back of her head, pushing it into the ground.
Her face skid, cries drowned in dust, sand and ash.
Paige tried to help her face along, but the momentum was lost. All that was left was to clap free her fingers of bloody hair and wait.
There was a pleasant hum to her sigh.
It really was a beautiful day.
Vanessa stayed down a while before getting up. It was over, but she wouldn't die so easily.
That was it! What she was looking for. People were more animal than they'd admit, and every animal put up a fight before the end. Paige had nearly been crushed like an insect, put up a fight and fate allowed her life.
The Greek retreated, but put up a fight. She wanted Vanessa's fight, her struggle.
Fire blasted, bending around Paige's shield.
It was time for her cleaning ritual.
The one good nail was broken. There was no glow, no sheen, just cracks and bloody stains. Why was power so… ugly?
Vanessa stepped closer, glistening in sweat. Both hands were fully extended, waves worked their way up her palms and down her wrists. Sweat sizzled, melting boiling, steam oozed out.
It was passing the minute mark.
Paige raised an arm. The flame abruptly centred in front of Paige's chest as if stuck in a blocked funnel.
"[Ya friend didn't know he could do that right?]"
Paige pushed the fire back into Vanessa's hands and the moment the flame died Paige flicked her hand up and shot her into the air.
"So you said you were going to make me die screaming, right?"
Vanessa, kicked out, struggling against the force lifting her. The one she'd planned on crushing Paige with. Higher and higher she went, Paige below. Drops pattered on her shirt.
Blood.
Paige eased her down, with the utmost care. The girl folded in on herself, a hand pointed at the ground.
Her lips were moving.
"[Sorry. I can't let ya go!]" Paige yelled.
The invisible force lifted Vanessa to her feet. She still tried to point, muttering. Paige pointed at her fingers and clenched.
"[I said no!]"
There was a sickening squelch and crackle Vanessa's hand folded in a way that would only be fine for a rubber doll.
Her scream was short lived.
Paige disappeared and reappeared in a high-speed headbutt. She crumpled in a heap.
The little model had done it, put up a monster of a fight. She'd been wrong, running counted if it was a part of a plan.
There was nothing wrong with a tactical retreat. It was a shame she couldn't sit her down, talk to her, maybe pat her on the back, old people shit. Even as an Elite, she deserved the pat, but that wasn't the real world. In the real world she was a goddamn Kingsley, Cole's sister.
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She could've been her friend. Could've taught her things, even laughed. But revenge? Revenge is love with blood in its teeth—and Paige's heart's already been claimed. Now, Vanessa lies broken beneath her, and Paige has questions. Not for vengeance. For war.
"Are daddy's precious Eagles trying to kill me? Again?"
Some things you can't burn out. Some things have to be answered.