The Blood of Heroes

Dante slowed down as he neared an inlet of the line of buildings that held a doorway and dropped to his knees beside a body clad in the gray attire the rest of us had on; this one was intact of all limbs. Propped up in a sitting position, with gray bricks speckled with red spots, the corpse sat lifelessly hunched over as its midsection was ripped open. Dante, not quite sure on what to check for first, spastically ran his hands over the body. Finally, he reached for the deceased’s ripped stomach and grabbed ahold of a torn piece of the bloodied spacesuit and opened it, exposing pink, red, and yellow organs and white ribs. The colorful array of insides was enough to make him drop the cloth and heave a moan.

"How could this have happened?" he asked. Although it was a rhetorical question, Dante got a response.

Quinn’s voice spoke seriously and critically, and it caused a chill to run up my spine and tingle outward to my arms and legs as I heard his words. "Maybe she knows."

All together, Dante, Cammy, and I shot our eyes over to Quinn, wondering why he would say something so strange and unsettling, but neither he nor Kat were going to give an exchange of glances as they had the front of their helmets facing down the street. The three of us followed their line of sight to see what had entranced them.

It was intriguing, captivating, and fascinating at the same time—but it was not right. It was the kind of situation, especially for a male, that made you want to know more although you knew it was temptation personally handing you trouble. Spellbound, Dante rose from his stooped position to watch, and I equally gawked along with him and Quinn.

Strutting down the street as if she were on a runway modeling the newest article of clothing, an eye-catching, young woman sashayed her petite and seductive body while maintaining a naughty-but-you-know-you-want-me look. She didn’t have on any form of protection from the non-oxidized air, but that didn’t matter. With her skin an obvious purple and her long hair dyed a deep green (a tacky combination, but she made it work), she wore a scarlet dress that ruffled around her bosom and hem that was cut off between the shoulder strap and forearm to show more skin. Although there was no wind at all, as there could hardly be without oxygen in the atmosphere, her lengthy hair blew backwards beguilingly and her dress flowed temptingly across her tight body. With her appearance and essence, the siren called loudly to us without making a single sound.

"Whoa...," breathed Quinn involuntarily. "Urgh!" I never broke eye contact with the enchantress gliding towards us, but I knew that Kat had slugged him one in the stomach for looking at another female.

The violet sex symbol continued to make her way, targeted at Quinn and Kat. Either from the being the first noticeable objects or from being the first known spoken infatuation, she disregarded Dante, Cammy, and me; no one, though, made any move to protect themselves or others. And nobody could have foreseen the act of violence that became unto us so quickly.

Her hips at last rocked and swayed to a stop, standing about a hundred feet in front of Quinn and Kat. It may have been too far of a distance for me to notice it, but as her sensual body tauntingly came to a halt, whatever color her eyes were previously started to vanished. With her diminutive head cocked down and teasingly looking up, a flare came across her eyes and surged into a deep red, almost matching the burgundy of her dress. Straightening her back and taking her frame to its full height, the angry amethyst angel stretched out her arms along her sides and began to float above the pavement. As if a gale had quickly taken precedence over the winds and only heeded her control, the temptress created a tempest that rose from behind her. While her dress and hair brutally snapped in the gusts, the sun above clouded over with black billows. The storm may have come out of nowhere, but the sky became a deep, dark conglomeration of gray as the clouds whirled in drafts of an atmospheric rage.

The winds picked up in our direction—although our tempestuous hostess’ garments and hair fluttered backwards—and the five of us had to shield our shields from flying debris of garbage, leaves, and stones with swats of hands; bodies in the street started to stiffly roll over with the strong breeze. But as the possessed viciously violent violet woman vehemently hovered in midair, she was not affected by her surroundings as she empowered them.

I actually saw it before I heard it, but that would have made sense since light travels quicker than sound. Still suspended in the air with wind whipping around her body, the atmosphere-controlling female opened her mouth to its full extent; and, actually, when I saw it, it almost seemed inhuman the way she gaped her oral cavity—it was if she had no jaw bone to restrict the wideness of her mouth. But as her chin dropped down and a large, black hole formed amid her tight, crimson lips, the scenery rippled in defined circles as a squelch pulsated over the airwaves.

The fictitious banshee came alive, her sonic scream beating through the air swiftly as would a touch upon water expand. Her forceful screech had no color, but it could still be seen as it disrupted the pattern of objects, like when heat rises and objects on the other side bend accordingly. Regardless of how it was seen, Quinn and Kat had absolutely no chance of getting out of the way.

As the annoying shriek pierced the ears, the first throb made Quinn and Kat only stumble backwards, trying to regain their balance, but the second shock wave that entrapped them was more powerful. Sending them helplessly into the air, the couple was synchronously lifted from the ground, arms wielding wildly in desperation, and crashed together into the windshield of the car behind them. The glass easily gave as their backs slammed into it and deeply indented white, layered circles, sending shards into the air that were burst into smaller pieces from the sonic boom and blown away by the wind. Grunts and moans were heard as they collided into the vehicle, and the three of us on the other side of the street merely watched as our friends feebly bounced helplessly from the automobile and onto the ground; Quinn tumbled on the left side while Kat could be heard landing on the right.

Dante was the first to react against the act of aggression as he rushed into the street and faced our assailant, letting rubble and trash bounce off his body as if it were only part of the air. I dashed along side him, to do whatever I could, while he took out his pistol and instinctively took aim. Playing both judge and jury, Dante wasn’t going to wait for an explanation and began to pull the trigger intensely.