Masquerade X Demolition

I turn around, facing the damage of the explosion. Everybody's dead. And I see dead people. The air is putrid. Probably because no human is supposed to have to breathe in gasoline and factory fumes all at the same time. Not even a gas mask would help this.

A few blocks down, I can see the wreckage of His house. I hope he wouldn't hate me. He loved the old me. I'm pretty sure my sunny personality and pretty face wouldn't win him back over to a murderer. He wouldn't want me to change. But then again, the dead can't want anything. If he were alive, he wouldn't like that I cut my hair. He wouldn't like that I carry around at least ten throwing knives. He wouldn't like that I became a ruthless killer hellbent on destroying the people that took the man I love.

I look to the north side of the base. I work alone. After The Explosion, I reclaimed my family's old land and built a base within the crater that the bomb created. It's mostly out of stolen parts, illegally smuggled drugs for quick surgeries and a few bottles I could salvage from the liquor store or 83rd st. I'm not even 21. I don't care though. I stopped respecting laws when our own congress voted to bomb their own country.

It's windy outside. The air is so toxic you can hardly see the sun anymore. And when you can, it's only for about ten seconds before it goes away like it's hiding from you, afraid of what you are and what you've become. It would make sense. The sun has seen everyone at their highest and lowest moments. I just wish the Sun wouldn't feel like a bad omen these days. I used to love it.

I head below. There's a list of the living I managed to come across from the Pentagon's servers. By come across I mean an entire year of broken keyboards and viruses just to get a small list of only 3,000 people. It seems like a lot until you remember we were at 8 Billion two years ago.

My feet hit the ground as I jump from the third step to the ground. I look around at the broken computers and gun rack on the wall.

Two years ago, I lost my world. I don't know how or when I'll get it back, but-

TING. TING. TING.

"Hurry! We don't know if anybody's here!" a girl's voice whisper-shouts.

"Shut up!" a boy shushes her.

"Sh*t!" the girl whispers.

I grab my rifle and point it at the entrance.

"Come out, you have ten seconds. I've got a loaded rifle, zero patience, and I don't miss often!" I yell.

Two brown-skinned people come out. I lower my weapon.

"Who the hell are you?" I demand.

"Tre," the boy points to himself, then the girl, "Gianna." he says.

The girl looks at me, almost as if to size me up. I step forward, letting her know I'm not scared of her.

"Why are you in my base?" I ask.

"Um…" the boy stalls.

I lift my rifle back up. "Talk or get shot. Your call," I say.

Tre raises his hands in surrender. I see his wrist flick quickly.

BANG!

I fire.

The girl- Gianna raises her nine millimeter. "What the hell did you just do?" she demands.

Tre holds his hand, "She shot the knife out of my hand," he groans.

I look back at Gianna and nod to her gun.

"Get that out my face and I won't aim for his head," I say.

She intensifies her glare before glancing at Tre. He nods quickly, but reassuring. I wait until she has her gun on the floor to put mine down.

"Sit." I say

. They both look at me. I kick two crates towards them before sitting on my table.

"Why are you really here? Both of you," I ask.

Gianna rolls her eyes. Tre nudges her.

"We heard of you," he explains.

I nod slowly. "Uh-huh, and what else?" I ask.

"We were told that you could help us defeat The Doctor and Caligula," he says. I raise an eyebrow.

"Caligula like the disgusting Roman emperor who watched people battle to the death and burned people on crosses?" I ask.

He nods, "That might be the most accurate description of him so far." he mused.

"He really burns people on crosses?" I ask.

Gianna speaks up, "Not on crosses. He… he's a lot worse than most people let on," she says.

I can tell she speaks from experience so I don't ask any more questions.

"How did you hear of me?" I ask.

Tre glances at Gianna. "A friend of ours, Vienna, said to come find you. She wanted to make sure you were okay," he says.

I must have a weird expression because he says, "She knew some guy named Kayden. She said you'd know who that is," he shrugs.

My heart sinks. I can feel the hot chills storming down my arms. "S-she knew K-Kayden?" I ask. Gianna raises an eyebrow. "What was this Kayden guy to you?" she asks.

I realize I'm tugging at my necklace. I look down at the silver ring. "Nobody," I say.

Tre looks around. "Pretty sweet base you got going down here," he says.

I glance at the picture of Kayden on the table. I didn't bother to frame it. The edges are faded, giving it an unwanted vignette. I grab my handkerchief and start cleaning my gun.

"Yeah, thanks. Tell me about this plan to defeat this… Caligula," I say.

Tre clears his throat. "First things first, his name isn't actually Caligula. That's just what his servants refer to him as," he explains.

I glance from his curly hair to his light brown eyes. "Caligula, Dhamer, either way this guy is a piece of sh*t," I say.

Gianna shrugs, seemingly satisfied with the comparison. "Fair point," she says.

Tre rolls his eyes, "We need an empire," he says.

I snort. "And how long did it take you to come up with that?" I ask.

He glares at me. "Ha-ha," he says with mock humor.

Gianna smirks. "I said the same thing. That's why he has an attitude," she explains. I shrug in agreement.

Tre sighs. "My point is that we can't defeat this a**hole by ourselves. Vienna is on her way," he says.

I nod slowly. "So does everyone know where my base is now?" I ask.

Gianna smiles, "Not really, just the people that matter," she says.

I nod.

Except Kayden. I glance at the time on the wall.

10:12.

It's reasonably late.

I stand up and head over to the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Tre asks. I ignore him and open the trap door then head to the surface.

There's a small riot group- the Lost Revolution that runs a bar a few blocks away. Normally they do t let anyone under the age of twenty one inside but they've gained a certain level of respect for me after I killed one of the Aera Taqa members inside.

After arriving, I can hear the music coming from the boombox the Revolution managed to salvage from the war. There's a man and a woman outside the door with a little girl holding onto her mother's hand. I open the makeshift door and slide into a barstool.

"Ah! The Destroyer!" Hanaan, the owner belts.

I smile slightly as he pours a glass of something, probably whiskey, judging from the smell. "How's business today?" I ask.

He sighs and slides the glass over to me.

"Slow." Hanaan mumbles.

It's normal for him to be this brooding. Two years ago, his wife and daughters were killed. He's ex-military and his family was killed during the war, stationed in Russia as American spies.

My thoughts are interrupted by a deafening scream. Everyone looks around and grabs their guns, but I grab my knife and open the door. Stepping outside, I can see two bodies.

There's a man running away from the scene, so I follow. I grab my rifle off of my back while in full sprint. He ducks behind a pile of burnt wood. Instinct and adrenaline takes over. I jump over a barricade and into the pile of burned wood. The man grabs his gun and points it at me, the beam on it glowing red in my chest. I look into his eyes. He has no fear, no remorse, no regrets- he doesn't deserve to live. I instinctively grab his gun, dislocating his thumb, spinning into his chest and forcing all of my weight into the joint of his shoulder. I can hear him scream in pain as I return to my stance and point the gun in his face. He's shaking.

"Never had a shoulder dislocated?" I ask, aiming slightly downward, firing three shots into his chest.

He grabs onto my arm and slams his head into mine in a last attempt to fight. I punch him in his face repeatedly until I can feel blood on my knuckles. He's still gasping for air, so I wrap my arms around his neck and snap it.

I stand up, feel weak from exerting so much energy.

I walk slowly back to the front of Lost Rev, and stop in my tracks. I lean down and study the bodies, their faces have been beaten bloody- they're already dead so the scream had to have come from…

My eyes wander to a small child- the same one I passed earlier. It takes a minute to sink in that her parents were just killed in front of her. Something in me snapped. Suddenly all the noise vanishes, the air pressure heats up. I look around but it feels like I'm being moved in slow motion a spark catches my attention, and my heartbeat accelerates. The little girl sobs- a heartbroken sound that feels like it could've ripped my soul out. Then she raises her hands and I realize that she's on fire. A little girl is on fire. Adrenaline rushes through my veins and I run over to her.

"No!" She screams.

Then the fire stops. I realize she was the fire. She's Powered.

"Are you okay?" I ask as I fall to my knees and hug her. She doesn't even smell like smoke. She's not even burned.

"My mommy…" she says shakily. I pull back and look at the bodies.

"Hey, hey- don't look at that." I say, guiding her face away from the scene.

This little girl has fire Powers, probably emotionally distraught aside from watching her parents be killed in front of her. And there's nothing I can do about it.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Layla. Layla Campbell." Layla sniffs.

"Hey." Tre's voice startles me.

I look up to see Gianna next to him. She looks at the bodies, then to little girl. Pity envelopes her face. She hugs the girl tight.

Tre glances at me. "I need to talk to you when we get back to your base," he says.

I realize he's looking at the blood on my knuckles. I can think of a multitude of reasons for him to lecture me, but hopefully it's not one of those 'You didn't have to kill him!' speeches and instead one of those 'Oh my God, you're so amazing! How'd you handle him so well?' speeches.