Pandemonium
The chaos erupted so suddenly, panic spreading through the vast underground mall like a plague, consuming the space in mere moments. Customers from one direction stampeded as if fleeing the most terrifying demon imaginable, survival instincts overriding any semblance of decorum.
The mall was already teeming with holiday shoppers when the exits quickly became clogged. In an ill-timed coincidence, all the lights overhead flickered out, plunging the underground into abyssal darkness. Fear thrives in the absence of light, and blindness robbed everyone of their bearings, their frantic movements reminiscent of headless flies.
People clutched their cell phones, using the limited glow of flashlights to see, but this did little to restore order. An almost imperceptible haze of dust filled the air, and from a certain direction, people continued to flee, like a torrential river current.
Eerie, guttural growls echoed sporadically, hinting at a savage beast wreaking havoc somewhere in the shadows, instilling a prehistoric terror. As Jay shielded the Reynolds couple, swiftly heading for the emergency exit, a whooshing noise pierced the screams. Something was cutting through the air at high speed.
Jay's hand shot up to catch the object—a stainless steel pot lid, now grotesquely warped from the tremendous force behind it. Even he was taken aback by the sheer power it conveyed.
Curiosity tugged at him, but ensuring the Reynolds' safety was paramount. He discarded the crumpled lid, ushering them through the panicked crowd.
Mrs. Reynolds clung to her son's hand, her voice tinged with anxiety. "Jay, where are we going?"
"To the emergency exit," Jay replied, his voice a calm anchor in the disarray. "It's just ahead."
The commotion in the distance persisted, fissures running wild across the ceiling, stones and debris raining down like a harsh downpour. In the chaotic mass of fleeing people, Jay's sharp eyes caught sight of a little girl, no older than eight or nine, ignored by the adults, sobbing on the ground. The ceiling above her, burdened beyond endurance, cracked open, threatening to bury her under a cascade of broken pipes and rock.
Without a conscious thought, Jay's instincts took over. He slipped his hand from Mrs. Reynolds' grasp, telling her to "wait for me," before dashing off like a whirlwind into the fray. Mrs. Reynolds called after him, but he was already gone, a shadow swallowed by darkness.
Reaching the girl, Jay shielded her with his body, a human umbrella against the falling debris. The rocks shattered against him, but he was unscathed.
The little girl ceased her crying, wide-eyed at the dark figure protecting her. "Are you Superman?" she asked.
"Why would you think that?" Jay responded, surprised.
"Mommy said Superman comes back when you need him."
"I'm not—I'm not Superman."
A frantic voice cut through the chaos, "Jessie! Where are you? Can someone help? Has anyone seen my daughter, Jessie?"
"Mommy!" The little girl sprang up, calling out, "I'm here!"
Jay followed the sound, quickly spotting the anxious mother in the crowd. Scooping up the girl, he darted through the throng, depositing the child into her mother's arms.
"Mommy!" The girl cried, leaping into her mother's embrace. The mother held her tight, tears of relief staining her cheeks, a reunion too sweet for words.
Jay faded back into the shadows, swiftly returning to the Reynolds, who stood patiently waiting. They didn't question his absence, simply resumed following him once he returned.
At the emergency exit, Mr. Reynolds twisted the handle in vain. "It's locked," he muttered in frustration.
Jay stepped forward, dismantling the lock with ease and kicking the door open to reveal a pitch-black stairwell leading up to ground level.
As he was about to lead the Reynolds out of the chaos, something made him hesitate. His gaze drifted back to the terrified, scrambling crowd, the image of the helpless girl and her mother's tears fresh in his mind.
It wasn't about heroism but about being present during a tragedy with the power to intervene. It was impossible for Jay to stand idly by.
Noticing his stillness, Mrs. Reynolds asked, "What's wrong?"
Taking a deep breath, Jay turned to his parents. "I'm sorry, but you two go ahead. There's something I need to do. I'll catch up, I promise."
Without waiting for a reaction, he plunged back into the abyss of the mall.
Meanwhile, outside the underground mall.
The police had arrived, cordoning off the area. Police cars blocked all the exits, officers ready to respond to any threat.
Detective Holchie, in charge of the operation, was a seasoned veteran of the Metropolis Police Department. He'd seen his fair share of bizarre incidents—laboratory monsters on the loose, alien invasions—all now anecdotes for rookie officers.
His orders were odd. An unidentified disturbance in the mall and civilians trapped below, yet he was told to secure the perimeter and hold position.
When Holchie questioned the safety of the civilians and the need for rescue, his superiors were vague, saying a specialist team would handle the situation, and they were to wait.
Holchie's second cigarette reached its end. He dropped the stub to the ground, crushing it underfoot, his patience wearing thin. Whoever the specialist was, they were late. Holchie was ready to take matters into his own hands in three minutes if no one showed up.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the roar of a motorcycle engine shattered the silence. An aubergine-colored custom bike leaped over the police cars, landing with a spectacular drift. The rider's black hair whipped in the wind as she dismounted.
Removing her helmet, she shook out her dark locks, her tall silhouette unforgettable in a midriff-baring purple uniform, half her face masked, leaving only the graceful line of her chin exposed. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the scene with predatory sharpness.
Holchie was dumbfounded. He hadn't expected the "specialist" to be a striking woman who seemed more suited to a masquerade ball.
"Thanks for holding the fort, detective," she said coldly, confidence radiating from her. "I'll take it from here."