Chapter 29: Cat's Last Stand

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From the villain that strikes fear into our protagonists:

Cat.

Lucifer has the prettiest wings.

Sure, Poison's look alright, but they're fluffy, delicate things. They're more equipped for Victoria's Secret angels than flight. And on the rare occasion Fallout shows his, they're jet black, graying at the tips.

But Luce's look nothing like his relatives'. They curve into beautiful, sharp-edged crescents, their shimmery black feathers almost translucent, like fish scales. Purple light glows from thick, leaf-like veins and it's memorizing to watch them pulse.

Angelos--Lucifer--seethes. His raging aura flickers like flames and his wings a
glow in the hellish light. According to his file, that's the point. His wings store his energy. They hold his human electricity, giving him all the more power to access at any given time.

He glowers, his eyes purple and rippling with electricity. Normally, I'd kick his ass to Chinatown and laugh while he spits up blood. But I don't want to. I almost don't care what he'll do to me, whatever it is, I deserve it.

I killed Kitten after all. I didn't mean to, but it happened.

Sure, the guy annoyed me. More than a couple times I imagined strangling him until the color drained from his beautiful face. But to do it...

A strange pain builds in my chest. I do horrible things on a daily basis, but to murder Kitten...

I don't know. Something about the pretty boy and his pretty friends knots me up inside.

Way back when, Jacob told me about two unturned projects in the area. The idea of sitting powerhouses fascinated me, so I stalked them for weeks on my free time. I grew fond of the Gatsby dude and annoying as Angel's patheticness was, he amused me. I admired the protective girl, the way she seemed to take command. To put it bluntly, I cared. So much so throwing the kids into a criminal organization's lap repulsed me.

I wanted them to--until the time came--live the 'normal teenage experience' I never had. When the Tremendous Trio left for Death Tower, Angel pleading and panicking all the while, I knew the guy would freak. I stood at the building's base, waiting for the moment he fell.

And when he did, I caught him.

I only meant to scare him at first. He was such a panicky, overdramatic mess and I thought it was hilarious. If he hadn't touched me, I would've plopped him back on the roof after a "joy ride" so he'd collapse a blubbering mess in the girl's arms.

But after the touch that eventually 'turned' him, it was my duty to bring him in, whether I wanted to or not. And when he escaped, I had to sever all my icky 'feelings' for him and his friends.

So what did I do? I made it my priority to rip their lives apart. I left the mother of the group with the guilt of knowing she couldn't protect the ones closest to her, I humiliated the charmer, and I abused the puppy until it became a Doberman.

I destroy things, and I'm proud of it, dammit! The kids shouldn't mean anything! Gatsby, Lucifer, they're projects! Nothing but tools! Why should I care what I do to them?

I should be glad I killed Kitten. He was useless anyway, just another source of all those gooey, gut-mushing feelings, but I'm not.

I'm slipping. Luce grabs my neck. His shadow looms over me and I grow sweaty under the mask. It's sickening to think I'm scared of him. Owl throws a lasso, but he redirects it with a flick of a finger. The chandelier drops, shattering in thousands of pieces and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light comes from Lucifer's flickering aura.

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