A Whateley Academy Adventure

-Of Pranks and Finals

by

Morpheus, Domoviye, Fiddlerfox, and Amethyst

Part Two

Morpheus
Whitman Cottage, Wednesday morning, Dec 12th, 2007

Melissa Chambers stepped out of the shower and quickly dried herself off. After wrapping the large fluffy towel around herself, she made her way to the mirror and paused. There was something off with her reflection.

“What…?” Melissa started as she noticed that the Melissa in the mirror had a large mustache. She immediately reached up to her face, confirming the normal absence of facial hair. “Hey, Maxine…”

When she looked to her roommate, who stood at the mirror next to her, Melissa noticed that the other girl had a full beard in the mirror. The real Maxine lacked this little detail, confirming that this was just something with the mirror. In fact, a look around the room revealed that all of the mirrors were doing it. Every girl’s reflection had facial hair of some type.

“Cool,” Melissa said with a grin, appreciating this little prank. She had no idea who was doing it, but it was funny and interesting, and that was what was important. “Good one.”

A moment later, Melissa looked back at her reflection and made a show of twirling her mustache before she turned and left. Several other girls were still gaping at their reflections with shocked expressions which made Melissa giggle.

Melissa quickly returned to her bedroom then began to get dressed for the day. However, as soon as she opened her closet, she froze and stared in surprise.

“No,” Melissa gasped, reaching for what should have been a school uniform. She pulled out the hanger and clothes, verifying that this was NOT her uniform. And unlike the bathroom mirror, this was no illusion either.

What should have been her school uniform was an entirely different type of uniform. The jacket and pants were yellow with red stripes, though there was a white lacy collar and a pair of oversized red shoes at the bottom of her closet. It was a clown outfit. In fact, all of her school uniforms had been replaced with clown clothes.

“Trixie,” Melissa exclaimed, immediately realizing that something this devious could only be the work of her archenemy. Her nemesis.

Then, since these things had to be done properly, Melissa dropped to her knees and raised her hands above her head. In the most dramatic and overacted way she could manage, she cried out, “TRIXIEEEEEE!”

Domoviye
Wednesday morning, Dec 12th, 2007

Wakanda looked up at the large screen and sighed, it was her turn for the combat final. She enjoyed fighting, but doing it for an audience made her feel self-conscious. She didn't like so many people watching her, hoping for something exciting to happen.

Her MID didn't make her seem too powerful. Exemplar 2, ESP 3 precog with danger sense, training in mixed martial arts, affiliated with The Tigers, and regular baseline weaknesses, for Whateley she wasn't special. Back in Haiti, Jean Helsing had told her to downplay herself when talking to the MCO; she'd followed his advice even after getting an updated MID at Whateley.

Then she saw her opponent and her stomach dropped. Gambler, a probability mangler, and a brand new member of the Capes.

“Mèd,” she swore in her native Haitian Creole.

“What's wrong?” Interest asked. “You can take her, she's just a warper.”

Stinger chuckled and shook his head at the naive freshman. “Probability manglers aren't normal warpers. Most warpers are ranked by the dimensions they can affect. Manglers tap dance on dimensions, and the lowest rating they get is a two. With a two, things are going to be interesting. At three, things are going to suck. Anything above four, which is Gamblers rating, well, that's when you say, 'fuck my life'.”

Getting out of her seat, Wakanda just nodded while her friends tried to encourage her as she walked to the gate. She was glad she'd decided to save time and wear her costume instead of carrying it around. The special Kevra skirt with padded leggings underneath, and the long sleeve blouse were dark blue and red, making her resemble a Haitian dancer. A colourful hair wrap kept her braids safe from being grabbed, and the thick cloth was filled with shock gel, protecting her head. It only took a moment to add the last piece of her costume. Taking her mask from a secret pocket, she placed the thin gel-like film over her face. The film was coloured to look like glittering blue and red face paint, obscuring her features. She stuck out in a crowd, but it wasn't as obvious as a traditional superhero outfit. The machete strapped to her thigh and the shock baton in her sleeve should be all the weapons she needed.

Reaching the gate, she saw Gunny Bardue waiting for her.

“Wakanda, you're doing a Crash. A wizard has started a zombie apocalypse with multiple types of zombies. You need to get past the zombies and henchmen, and kill him quickly or everyone is going to die.”

The blood drained from her face. Just competing against a probability mangler was bad enough. Having to do it in a Crash, she might as well just quit now. Biting her lip, she pushed the depression away. She could do this. She'd already done a lot of things she'd never have believed, this would be the same. Gambler was just a freshman, if she couldn't beat her, how was she going to defeat her demon?

“OK,” she said.

Knowing Gunny's reputation, she didn't ask any questions. He wouldn't reveal anything useful. Instead she closed her eyes and entered her precog trance. The world faded away, without a thought she walked to the metal gate and waited.

Distantly she heard an alarm go off. Without any hesitation, she slipped through the still opening door and was running to the left. Something that smelled acrid flew past her face, hitting the stadium wall with a wet, hissing splat. Following the steps her precognition gave her, she fled the enemy. They didn't need to be faced, only avoided.

Jumping, she twisted in midair, her feet slamming into a metal wall and pushed off to land in the middle of a group of zombies. The air reeked of rotten flesh and blood, the trance didn't let it slow her down. Her shock baton fell from her sleeve into her hand. Jabbing it forward, she felt it hit something, electricity hummed and cracked. Then she was running again, ducking and weaving under arms she couldn't see, and would only distract her if she did look. There was a mission to complete, the faster she did it, the better.

“Gambler, this is a crash. A wizard has raised hundreds of zombies who are going to infect the nearby city. You need to get past his henchmen and the zombies, capture the wizard, then call for your transport, so he can be forced to end the spell. If he dies you lose,” Sensei Ito said, handing her a small radio.

“Got it,” Gambler said, trying not to panic. She was a probationary member of the Capes, this was her chance to show them what she could do. They still didn't think she could hold her own in a real fight, since she was practically a baseline except for her luck mangling, and that was seen as a double edge sword. She had to prove to them that she was more than capable of being a hero.

The wannabe superhero went to stand by the big metal gate, trying to stop shaking from excitement and adrenaline.

Shuffling her cards, she dealt herself a poker hand. A royal flush, not bad. Grinning, she felt the odd tingle as luck took an unusual turn.

The alarm sounded, starting the match.

Someone sneezed on the opposite side of the gate as it opened up. Diving to the side, Gambler just avoided being turned into Swiss cheese as a group of gunmen opened fire. Even with her costume, which made her look like a rich, Old West gambler, but was well padded Kevra with lots of pockets for holdouts, those bullets would have hurt.

Drawing her pistol, she trusted her luck and aimed at the corner of the open door. Pulling the trigger, the gun boomed in the confines of the room. The bullet struck the metal door frame and ricocheted with a piercing whine into the arena. Then there was an even louder explosion, causing dirt and smoke to fly into the waiting room. Gambler had no idea what she'd hit, but it had done the job. Taking a chance, she ran into the arena, pistol raised, ready to shoot anything that moved in the smoke.

A scream was cut off as the machete cut through the neck of an ANT. Wakanda swung her baton upwards, knocking out the last of the light bulbs in the lobby of the old mortuary. A henchman drew his gun and started firing blindly in the dim emergency lights, not caring that she was surrounded by his compatriots.

Ducking low, a body almost fell on her. Wakanda stepped aside, shuddering in disgust as realistic blood coated her arm. Her shoulder hit another person. Using all of her enhanced strength, she pushed the man towards the shooter, using him as a human shield. Then she slid past the dead man and her machete gutted the gunman.

He screamed in pain, trying to swing his gun around to shoot her before he died. Without a second of hesitation, she crushed his temple with her baton, making him drop like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Her body wanted to rest. She had no idea how long it had been, but she'd been fighting, running and dodging without pause for several minutes. Despite being an exemplar, she was still human and the Crash was taking its toll. Her power wouldn't let her though. The future knowledge was pushing her onwards. She needed to win, and it would make sure she did.

Trusting in her power, she followed its movements, going where it led her. Opening a door, she stepped inside and closed it behind her, knowing it was safe.

Then she stopped. It smelled of rotten meat and growling filled her ears.

The knowledge that told her how and when to move, always keeping her a few seconds ahead of everything, came to a jarring halt as the future went wild. She didn't know what to do.

A dry, bony hand grabbed her wrist. Teeth dug into her shoulder trying to get past the Kevra, breaking her trance. Opening her eyes, Wakanda saw that she was surrounded by zombies.

Screaming, she swung her baton, breaking the arm of the zombie that was holding her wrist. Wrenching her arm and machete free, she stopped trying to use her precognition and turned solely to her training. As the zombies swarmed her, she swung her weapons and lashed out with her feet, trying to keep them at bay.

Gambler shuddered at the high pitched screams coming from the room. She didn't know what Wakanda was dealing with in there, but it was better that the martial arts knife nut dealt with it than her.

Scooping up her cards, she hurried on, trying to avoid the bloodbath that Wakanda had made of the henchmen. Watching the girl do all of that with her eyes closed had been freaky. Fortunately it seemed that luck mangling was more powerful than precognition.

“Now where would the bad guy be?” she muttered to herself.

Walking down the hallway, she was surprised when a trio of henchmen came charging around the corner with their weapons drawn. Then the first one tripped, hitting the ground and losing his gun. His partners couldn't stop in time and fell on top of him, getting caught up in each other's limbs and gear, while also dropping their weapons.

Pulling out her stun gun, she knocked the two on top out for at least ten minutes, and knelt down to talk to the first man. “So, there are cannibal zombies all around. I could knock you out and leave you here where you will be found and eaten alive, or I could let you get up so you can try to escape. Which one do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Let me escape!” the ANT pleaded.

“OK, but first you need to do something for me. Where's your boss and what type of defenses does he have?” she asked.

A pair of strong hands grabbed her vest from behind, swung her around and was about to slam her face first into the wall. Gambler brought her hands up trying to protect herself, when the grip slipped and instead of being driven into the wall as hard as humanly possible, she just hit it and bounced. Stars still flashed in her eyes while her head rang like a bell, but it could have been far worse.

She lost her footing and fell to the ground. At the same moment a boot grazed her arm, leaving a nasty sting. Rolling along the floor, she narrowly missed getting stomped. Her body tingled, and Wakanda slipped on a fallen gun, giving her time to get to her feet and head back to the larger room where she might have a chance to run away.

Her opponent was soaked in blood, her costume a mess, the Kevra was even torn in places, and bruises covered her exposed skin. At least she didn't have her machete or baton, Gambler thought.

Drawing her cards, Gambler didn't bother to shuffle, she just threw two cards face up on the floor. A seven and a deuce looked up at her. She groaned, looking at the worst possible hand, the tingling of her power became uncomfortably hot. Henchmen and zombies flooded into the room.

Wakanda jerked back as a gun was fired right in front of her face, blinding her for a second. A rotten hand grabbed her around the neck, dragging her towards its bloody mouth. Bringing her foot up and back, she slammed it into the zombie's knee. It started to slide down, dragging her with it. An elbow to the monster’s ribs made it let go. Spinning, she brought her foot down on its head, cracking the skull.

She couldn't get back into the trance, too many things were happening too quickly. Bullets were flying, grenades exploded, and zombies were spitting acid at anything with a pulse. Her precognition was helping her avoid the worst outcomes, but it was impossible to rely on it completely without risking getting overwhelmed.

Gambler wasn't doing much better. She was barely holding her own, shooting her stun gun at the henchmen and her pistol at the zombies, and sometimes mixing up the two. Wakanda was pretty sure the wannabe superhero was still standing only because of her luck power. The girl was falling, stumbling, and even being yanked off her feet in ways that let her avoid getting shot, hit by acid or bitten.

Grunting as a bullet bounced off her costume, likely leaving a nasty bruise, Wakanda tried to get closer to Gambler. A swift kick to the knee or hip would put the hero down for good. Grabbing a pistol out of an ANT's hand, she used it like a club to get through the chaos of henchmen and zombies. She aimed for the head, it was the only way to permanently put down a zombie, and she'd found if she didn't do the same to a henchmen, he'd come back as an undead.

Yet another grenade landed close by. Her danger sense and precognition came to her rescue, directing her to grab a zombie and throw it on top of the explosion. Shrapnel still bounced off her skirt and legging, but it didn't injure her beyond some new bruises. The ANT's nearby weren't so lucky.

Scrambling over the downed and dazed opponents, she finally had a clear path to Gambler.

And then a massive zombie charged through the wall, sending cement and bodies flying.

“Kaka!” Wakanda shouted. Spinning on her heels, she opened herself up to her precognition and ran down the hallway, jumping, dodging and sliding past anything that got in her way.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Gambler shouted as she ran. She'd lost her pistol and stun gun, and the smoke grenades, flash bombs, and stun baton were useless against the giant zombie chasing her.

The only thing going her way was that her power had calmed down a little, so the world wasn't exploding around her. In fact it seemed to have turned useful again, giving her a clear path to run.

Charging through a set of metal doors, she saw a flight of stairs going down. Not slowing, she ran down, barely staying on her feet. If she was lucky the zombie wouldn't be able to get through, or it might have trouble getting down the stairs.

The doors flew off their hinges, hitting the wall with a loud clang. Rather than taking the stairs, the zombie just jumped down, landing right behind her.

She dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding having her head taken off. Scrambling back to her feet, she looked around for somewhere to hide or something to use as a weapon. There wasn't much in the room, just a bunch of mystical looking junk and drawings that dominated half the space, and a door behind the zombie. The zombie reached out for her with a hand as big as her head.

Struggling to avoid being caught and killed, Gambler reached for her power. It wasn't easy to control without her cards, it was like dealing with a wild stallion, fighting and fuming every step of the way. It felt like it was squirming away from her grasp. And then she had it, the tingling was under her control. She pushed it outwards at the zombie, giving it all the bad luck she could.

Wakanda was completely lost. In her mad dash away from the chaos and the giant zombie, she'd gotten turned around and didn't know where she was, or where she was supposed to go. The only good thing was that her precognition seemed to be working again.

Looking down the corridor that was streaked with blood and bodies, probably from Gambler, she closed her eyes. Emptying her mind, she ignored the bruises and the heaviness that filled her body, opening herself to time and fate. Slowly turning in a circle, she felt a slight pull. Walking forwards, she turned when the feeling told her to.

Suddenly her sense of confidence and direction ended. Chaos once more reigned in her mind, and then the voice in her head was screaming danger.

Opening her eyes, another giant zombie, different from the last one, ran down the hall towards her. It was too fast to run from, and it was blocking her from her goal. Tightening her grip on the battered pistol she'd turned into an impromptu weapon, she ran at the monster.

It swung at her, and she ducked under it's fist, getting right up against it's cold, slimy body. Grabbing it's pants, she yanked down as hard as she could, popping the button and breaking the rotten belt. The clothing came down, giving her a close up view of its soiled underwear, she let go and jumped away, narrowly avoiding getting slapped. Then she was scrambling for her life as the zombie toppled over with its pants around its knees.

Wakanda didn't have time to think or catch her breath, she just acted. Jumping on the back of the fallen zombie, she used him as a springboard to get well away from it, and ran down the hall. Her precognition started working again, and she ran through a door that looked much like every other one. Racing down the stairs, she heard the massive zombie running after her.

Entering her precog trance, she jumped down the last flight of stairs, and only as she was in the air did she realize what was about to happen. Training made her turn her jump into a flying kick. A sickening crunch filled the air when she hit something that started off solid but turned squishy under her heel. Bouncing off the skull of the first giant zombie, she hit the ground, rolled with the impact and was back on her feet a second later.

“Fuck! How did you do that?” Gambler shouted. Then the girl screamed. “Outta the way!”

Instinct and precognition worked in tandem, sending Wakanda leaping away. The room shook as the second, pantsless giant zombie hit the ground with a roar. Cursing Wakanda turned to face the monster, her power letting her know she could defeat it.

And then chaos once more reigned.

Running around the spasming corpse of the giant zombie Wakanda had somehow killed with a single kick, Gambler struggled to control her power. It wanted to slip it's reins and bring chaos to earth. Gritting her teeth, she forced it to focus on Wakanda and the zombie.

Normally she wouldn't use her full power on a person who wasn't sheer evil, but it probably wouldn't kill the martial arts nut. And she needed to succeed at this or else she might not be allowed to be a Cape. As the mystical mumbo-jumbo stuff flared to life and hissed behind her, Gambler ran through the only door in the room.

And there was her target, an old man in black robes sitting on what looked like a throne of bones. Reaching for a flash bomb, she tripped over her own feet, and landed with a thud on the floor, an inch away from some glowing rune that made her eyes hurt just looking at it. If she hadn't fallen she'd have stepped on it and that probably would have been game over.

“They sent a clumsy child to challenge me,” the necromancer said. “I'm insulted.”

He raised a hand and Gambler found herself rising up into the air, held in a quickly tightening, invisible vice.

“Time to roll the dice,” she said, letting her power loose.

Wakanda dodged a flaring rune and was almost flattened by the zombie's fist. Rolling to the side, she really wished the monster still had pants on, she was going to have nightmares after this. And she already had more than enough from her Thanksgiving in Detroit.

Her precognition was absolutely useless thanks to Gambler, and the room was exploding at random from the magic leftovers from the zombie raising ritual. She quickly found herself being backed into a corner near the door that Gambler had run through. If she could just turn around and open it, she might survive, but the zombie was not slowing down. It was all she could do to just avoid the fists that were as big as her head.

And then she ran out of room, her back hitting the wall.

The zombie grabbed her in its massive hand. She pounded its wrist with the empty pistol, which was about as effective as spitting in the ocean. It raised a fist to turn her into a paste.

She closed her eyes, hoping the ANT was programmed not to kill her.

Then the runes and magical items filling the room exploded.

Gambler could barely breathe, and she was pretty sure her ribs were cracking as she hung in the air being crushed by magic. “Any day now power,” she gasped.

The wall behind her exploded. The door slammed into her back sending her careening across the room, landing in a very painful heap.

Someone groaned. It might have been her. In fact it probably was her.

Looking around, she saw Wakanda unconscious, or maybe dead, on the ground under a zombie arm. “Well I don't have to worry about her at least,” Gambler whispered, her mind fuzzy.

Rolling over, she tried to see what had happened to the necromancer. Through the dust she saw the remains of his throne. “Aw shit.”

The necromancer was underneath the giant zombie, and from the way his hand was poking limply out from underneath the enormous monster, he was very dead.

Getting to her feet proved impossible. So she crawled over to Wakanda to check for a pulse. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she felt a strong pulse and heard the girl moan. “Stay still, Wakanda. Crash is over, the necromancer is dead.”

“Ow,” Wakanda replied.

“Believe me I feel the same.”

The Haitian girl said something in what sounded like French. Then she groaned and said in English, “I hate luck manglers.”

Lying down, Gambler nodded. “No argument here. Now shut up until the healers get here.”

Morpheus
Wednesday afternoon, Dec 12th, 2007

Gwen Wylann sat in the observation area of the arena, surrounded by her friends as they watched the combat finals matches. Several large screens were displaying the current match, though none of them paid it much attention.

“You should have seen his match,” Dana exclaimed, gesturing to Fixx, who looked a bit self-conscious. “Too bad you missed it, Collin.”

Collin shrugged. “I wish I’d been able to make it.”

Dana grinned. “Oh yeah, our boy Fixx here, ran into a hardware store and came out with this ridiculous new weapon…”

“It was like an old episode of the A-Team,” Gwen offered. “When they go into some shed or garage full of random junk and come out with a tank…”

“It was quite impressive,” Porcelain agreed. “Most devisor would not be able to create a new weapon in such a short period of time, especially with materials that are generally considered…inferior.”

Fixx turned red with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. “It wasn’t that impressive…”

“Oh, it was,” Gwen stated firmly.

Collin let out a disappointed sigh before saying, “Now I really wish I’d seen it…”

“It was almost as funny as Breakdown’s match,” Dana added with a broad grin.

Jinx, Dana’s girlfriend giggled at that. “Now THAT was funny…”

At Collin’s questioning look, Dana explained, “Breakdown started disassembling one of the ANTS to figure out how it worked…and got so distracted by that…she forgot she was in the middle of her final.”

“She got overrun by the zombies,” Jinx added with another laugh. “It was funny…because she didn’t even notice them coming…”

“We’re definitely going to have to give her some crap about that,” Dana agreed with an evil grin. “Devisors are so oblivious…”

Fixx let out a pained sigh. “I’d argue…if that wasn’t true.”

Gwen chuckled at that, looking forward to the friendly teasing that all the Poesies present would give Breakdown. As cottage mates and friends, it was their duty.

Then Gwen looked at the monitors and saw that in the main arena, Cauldron was surrounded by a group of zombies, which could signal the end of her final since the girl wasn’t known to be much of a fighter. The slender redhead wore a bandolier across her chest, full of glass vials, and a moment later, she pulled out one of the vials and threw it into the gathering zombies.

As soon as the vial hit the ground, it exploded into a bluish-white mist that spread along the ground…and over the zombies, leaving a layer of frost and ice behind. However, it didn’t just stop there. The frost and ice continued to spread, almost like some kind of ice version of napalm, quickly engulfing more than half the nearby zombies.

“Good job, Erin,” Gwen muttered, realizing that she must have underestimated the other mage. Erin, AKA Cauldron, was always talking about making magic potions, but not about what they could do in a fight. “She must have been holding out…”

Then, back on the monitor, Cauldron quickly drank another vial, right before she ran off, moving far faster than normal. It was almost like she had low-level speed powers, which obviously came from that potion.

“Oh yeah,” Fixx exclaimed from a few feet away, drawing Gwen’s attention back away from the combat final that was still going on. “Talking about devisor quirkiness… That weird art teacher came into the labs today…”

“Really?” Collin asked, looking only vaguely curious. “Why would she do that?”

Fixx chuckled for a moment before answering. “Get this,” he said, still grinning. “She was trying to commission someone to make plaid paint.”

“Plaid paint?” Jinx asked in surprise and a bit of confusion. “Isn’t that sort of…impossible.”

“Devisors,” Dana pointed out. “Making the impossible and ridiculous possible.”

“Art teachers are always eccentric,” Gwen pointed out with a shrug. “Especially that one.”

The conversation continued for another minute, until Gwen realized the combat final match had ended. Gwen frowned slightly at that since she hadn’t even seen who won the match. Before Gwen could ask her friends if any of them had noticed, an intercom announcement filled the room.

“PORCELAIN AND GRAVMAX, PLEASE REPORT TO THE ARENA.”

Everyone turned to look at Porcelain. “It looks like you’re up,” Collin said.

“Good luck,” Jinx told her hopefully. “As ironic as that might be, coming from me.”

“Luck will not be required,” Porcelain stated as she slowly stood up. “But your well-wishes are appreciated.”

“Just be careful,” Dana warned her with a worried look. “Gravmax can be dangerous.”

Gwen frowned. “And a bit of a jerk. I know he hangs around with your roommate…”

Porcelain smiled, which was creepy as her white ceramic face suddenly cracked and formed into an almost rictus grin. “I am not concerned.”

“Well, good luck anyway,” Gwen told her.

Porcelain paused for a moment before announcing, “Please accept my upcoming performance as my official application to join the training team.” Then before anyone could respond, she quickly hurried away.

Fixx just watched her go before chuckling to himself. “This should be interesting.”

Porcelain stepped into the arena and paused to look around. The buildings and setting were completely different from the previous match, but that was to be expected as they changed those things between every combat final.

As soon as the voice from the intercom announced “BEGIN”, Porcelain held out her hands. The white ceramic shell that covered her body began to spread out from her hands, growing and taking new shapes. Mere seconds later, she held a pair of white porcelain swords, each one curved in in a similar style to a scimitar. Without a word, she strolled forward.

It didn’t take Porcelain long to encounter the first zombies. They looked like humans who had been deceased for weeks if not months, though vines grew all through their bodies making them appear as much plant as former human. Three of these beings were shambling towards her.

The eerie looking girl did not pause or hesitate as she lashed out, first with one sword and then the other. A zombie head hit the ground followed immediately by another. A moment later, both swords struck the third monster at the same time, leaving it to collapse to the ground as well.

Porcelain merely glanced at the bodies to make sure that they were no longer moving, then she calmly continued on to her goal.

“NO WAY,” Dana exclaimed as she jumped to her feet. She pointed at the monitor that showed Porcelain. “DID YOU SEE THAT?”

“I saw it,” Gwen responded, a bit stunned by what she’d just seen. Porcelain was supposed to be…harmless. This was the GSD girl who could barely move around because of her condition, much less fight. This went against everything she knew about her friend. “I don’t understand it though…”

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Collin added. Fixx merely nodded, not taking his eyes off the monitor as he quietly added, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Gravmax stood in the middle of the street, smirking down at the crushed zombies that were spread out before him. Gravity was a powerful force, one that could flatten his enemies into the ground and even shatter their bones. And of course, it was a force that he controlled.

“You pathetic monsters are no match for MY power,” Gravmax exclaimed.

The defeated zombies were still moving, though mostly just a few twitches from the vines. Gravmax couldn’t do much more to them with his powers, nor did he need to since they were clearly no longer a threat.

The boy was about to turn around when something suddenly hit him. He snapped around but didn’t see anybody there. However, what he did see was a decapitated zombie head on the ground beside him. Before he could fully absorb this, another severed zombie head flew through the air towards him, just barely missing.

“What the…?” Gravmax exclaimed in surprise. “Who’s throwing…”

Another zombie head flew at him, hitting him in the shoulder. Gravmax jumped back and snapped around, ready to lash out with his powers. Being attacked was one thing, but being attacked with severed zombie heads… That was just…wrong. That was disgusting on so many levels.

A moment later, his attacker finally revealed herself. His opponent, Porcelain, stepped out from around the corner of a building, holding another severed zombie head in her hand. She threw it at Gravmax, making him wince instinctively as it came towards him. This time though, he saw it coming in time to step out of the way.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?” he demanded.

Gravmax silently cursed himself. He couldn’t believe he was getting nervous about Porcelain of all people. Everyone on campus knew that girl was helpless…practically a cripple because of her GSD. Sure, she was creepy looking, but she was absolutely no threat to him at all.

“Time to end this match,” Gravmax announced with a smirk.

He raised his hand to focus his power, only to pause when he realized that Porcelain was standing just outside his range. She just stood there, as if knowing full well that he couldn’t reach her…as if she was intentionally taunting him.

Before Gravmax could figure out how to reach his opponent, he felt something grab his ankle. He immediately looked down, expecting to see a zombie hand rising from the ground, but to his surprise, there was an inky black tentacle wrapped around his ankle instead. The tendril ran along the ground, right towards Porcelain. Then the tentacle suddenly yanked, pulling his legs right out from beneath him so that he slammed onto the ground.

Gravmax gasped in surprise and growing horror. He’d seen black tendrils like that before, only a week and a half earlier when a bunch of them had burst into his dorm room and grabbed him in the middle of the night. Someone, he didn’t know who, had ambushed him while he slept and left him tied up and naked in the middle of the courtyard. This person…this mysterious shadow monster had humiliated him and left him a laughing-stock.

Porcelain was suddenly standing over Gravmax, too close for him to use his powers on without catching himself in the effect as well. Without saying a word, she reached up and tore off her face. It broke off in one piece, looking like a simple porcelain mask that she casually tossed aside. And where her face had been, there was nothing but a mass of black tendrils, just like the one wrapped around his ankle.

“YOU!” Gravmax screamed in terror, his voice coming out as a high-pitched squeal. “YOU DID IT… YOU’RE THE SHADOW MONSTER!”

His suddenly terrifying opponent stretched and her clothes tore apart and fell away…along with her white porcelain skin. Her porcelain shell shattered and crumbled, leaving a pure black figure beneath. Black tendrils spread out from the dark body and wrapped around Gravmax, ensuring that he couldn’t get away.

A second later, Porcelains’ face began to reform. White shell appeared over the black featureless face, but instead of her usual face which resembled the blank features of a doll, this one was a half-skull which was more mask than face. Other bits of white shell appeared around her body, forming bits and pieces of armor over her shoulders, forearms, and knees while sharp blades grew at the tips of some of her tentacles, forming claws at the ends.

Porcelain held out one hand, which now clutched a bone-white sword, a scimitar, which she lowered to Gravmax’s chest. Suddenly, a warm rush spread over his pants while the scent of urine filled the air.

“Please,” Gravmax blubbered. “No…”

His opponent tilted her head and stared at him, as if studying him. Then, she finally spoke.

“Normally, I would not demonstrate my capabilities so openly,” Porcelain said. “However, my primary reason for restraint has ended and there are those I wish to impress today, much to your misfortune.”

With that, Porcelain reached down with her free hand, the one that was not holding the sword. She grabbed hold of Gravmax’s hands and then white porcelain began to form, spreading over his hands and then hardening so that his hands were bound and manacled together. She reached down to his feet and repeated the process, leaving them trapped in white porcelain as well.

Porcelain didn’t say another word as she abruptly turned and walked away from Gravmax, leaving him trapped and helpless in the middle of the street. She didn’t even spare a backward glance at him as she walked straight towards a group of approaching zombies, raising her sword as she did so.

“That was insane,” Dana exclaimed. “I mean, Porcelain was legitimately terrifying…”

“I had no idea she could do ANY of that,” Collin said with a shake of his head.

Gwen nodded, agreeing with both her roommate and her boyfriend. “Yeah… That was pretty shocking, except…” She paused and looked at Fixx. “But you didn’t look surprised at all…”

“Wait,” Jinx gasped. “You knew?”

Fixx shrugged, looking self-conscious. “Only for a week or two…” Then he quickly added, “Porcelain made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“We can’t begrudge you for that then,” Collin said with a quick glance to Gwen.

“Now, let’s find Porcelain so we can congratulate her,” Gwen suggested.

But just as they were heading out to find Porcelain, they saw her coming towards them. She was back to her normal self, minus a single scrap of clothing. Her entire body was covered with her usual white porcelain shell, though it was heavily cracked at all of her moving joints. The lack of clothing made her looking even more like a living doll, or at least, like a living doll from some horror movie.

Gwen noticed that other students were watching Porcelain as well, but instead of their usual looks of pity and contempt, they wore expressions of wariness and concern. Maybe even fear. In just one match, Porcelain had permanently changed her entire image.

“Porcelain,” Jinx waved to her.

“Isabelle,” Fixx greeted her with a broad grin. “That was amazing.”

“Totally awesome,” Dana agreed. “I didn’t know you were such a badass.”

Porcelain hesitated for a moment before saying, “I had good reason to keep my true abilities hidden, but as of late, that reason has vanished.”

“We all have our secrets,” Gwen assured her.

“Not me,” Dana added with a grin and a look of mock innocence. “I’m an open book.”

Jinx snorted at that. “Yeah, let’s go with that…”

“Perhaps,” Porcelain responded. “But I decided that I must share some of mine if we are to train together.”

Collin chuckled at that. “Well, it looks like we are forming an official training team now.”

“Excellent,” Porcelain stated with a nod of her head that caused her shell to crack open around her neck. The crunching sound was nearly as disturbing as the broken appearance of her body. “I believe that a strong and well-practiced training team will be beneficial to us all.”

Fixx just grinned at that. “Now, we just need to come up with a team name…”

Morpheus
Wednesday afternoon, Dec 12th, 2007

“The fierce predator silently hunts his prey,” Monkeywrench narrated to himself as he walked across campus. “Completely camouflaged by his Hawaiian shirt, no one can see him coming…”

“Hey, Monkeywrench,” Orc called out to him with a wave.

Monkeywrench waved back, relieved to see that Orc just wanted to give a polite greeting rather than stop and talk. The furry boy was about to return to his task when he suddenly saw a velociraptor running past, dressed for some reason in an Elvis costume. He shook his head, knowing better than to question the dinosaur’s antics.

“Now, where was I…?” Monkeywrench mused. “Oh yes, the fierce hunter searches for his elusive prey…”

It didn’t take Monkeywrench long to find his target since he knew which route she usually took. His target was a cute looking brunette, who had a personality that was almost the exact opposite. This was Bekka Carlton, also known as Slingshot.

“This is for what you did to Balderdash,” Monkeywrench reminded himself.

The furry boy rather liked Balderdash, a sweet girl, who was unfortunately roommates with Bekka. Bekka was one of those obnoxious mean girls who constantly took advantage of Balderdash, either mocking her to the point of tears or manipulating her into doing things for her. Monkeywrench did not like Bekka at all.

And then, walking beside Bekka was a lean boy. This was Lewis Braekowski, better known around campus as Switchblade. He was one of Bekka’s friends, and more than once, he’d verbally abused Balderdash as well. And while Lewis hadn’t been Monkeywrench’s primary target, he was definitely a target of opportunity.

“And what an opportunity,” the furry boy said with a grin.

The only problem was, those two targets had a third boy with them as well. Doug Kelly. Broadsword. And he was carrying that ridiculously large sword with him, as usual. Doug could be a bit of a cocky braggart, but he’d never been mean to Balderdash, as far as Monkeywrench knew.

“Unfortunate collateral damage,” he mused. “Or maybe I’ll give him a chance to leave.”

Monkeywrench approached the trio, trying to decide exactly how he wanted this to go. His primary goal was actually to test out his latest invention and to get some laughs while at it. He’d chosen his specific target…targets, just because he felt bad for Balderdash, but getting revenge wasn’t his primary goal.

“Look, it’s that filthy monkey,” Bekka said with a contemptuous glare.

“Careful,” Doug joked. “He might throw a banana at us.”

Monkeywrench grinned at that since Doug’s joke eased up his conscience a bit. Now, he didn’t have to feel guilty for including Doug in the crossfire.

“Get lost, monkey,” Lewis exclaimed vehemently.

“You know,” Monkeywrench responded with a broad grin. “Monkeys are known for flinging more than bananas…”

With that, Monkeywrench held up his new invention so that they could get a good look. It resembled a metallic version of a super soaker water gun, being shaped somewhat like a rifle with two cylinders on the top and side.

“This is my Primate Operated Offense,” Monkeywrench announced with an evil grin. “Guess what it shoots?”

“You disgusting freak,” Bekka hissed, raising her hands to fire one of her force blasts. At the same time, Lewis formed a pair of his energy daggers while Doug just gave a curious look. “Now you’re gonna get it…”

Monkeywrench exclaimed, “Say hello to my little friend,” as he opened fire.

A glob of brown goo slammed into Bekka’s chest and knocked her backward onto the ground. Lewis dodged a second glob of the brown goo, his enhanced speed giving him the advantage, until he tripped over Bekka and fell onto the ground beside her. Two more globs hit him and Bekka.

“Nasty,” Doug exclaimed, holding his sword out in front of him like a shield and using it to block two more shots.

Monkeywrench just laughed as he fired a couple more blasts from his POO launcher, until the chamber ran empty. Then, he abruptly turned and ran away as fast as he could.

“Now to give them the slip.” Monkeywrench exclaimed.

With those words, Monkeywrench casually tossed a couple banana peel grenades behind him, knowing that they’d explode into some slippery puddles. That would slow down any pursuit long enough for him to get away.

After Monkeywrench was gone, Doug just looked at Lewis and Bekka, both of whom were freaking out.

“This is DISGUSTING,” Bekka screamed at the edge of panic

Lewis tried getting to his feet, “When I get my hands on you…”

Doug joked, “Please don’t threaten to spank the monkey…at least not in front of me.”

Then Doug turned his sword and looked at the nasty brown smears that covered the other side of it. That might be annoying to clean off. Then he paused as his nose was hit with a familiar smell, but not the one he’d expected.

“Hey,” Doug said, sniffing his sword and then cautiously touching the brown goo before bringing it to his mouth to cautiously taste. “It’s chocolate pudding... My favorite.”

Monkeywrench was feeling rather pleased with himself as he returned to Twain. His POO launcher had worked perfectly. Well, it could use greater range and a more accurate aim, but it had still worked great. He’d been able to fire off an entire canister of compressed pudding without any issues.

“Next time,” he joked, “I might try banana flavor.”

When the furry boy reached the main door to the cottage, he noticed Blackbox and Ripple standing beside it, talking.

“Hey, what’s up?” Monkeywrench asked.

Both boys turned and glared at Monkeywrench, which wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Maybe if they were friends with Bekka and Lewis, but it would have been too soon for them to have heard about his little joke.

“Mister Filbert is looking for you,” Blackbox told Monkeywrench.

“What?” the furry boy asked in surprise.

Blackbox and Ripple were already wandering away, so Monkeywrench shrugged and continued going inside. He’d barely gone in when he was caught by surprise. The floor was completely covered in banana peels, which spread all the way down the hallway. There were easily hundreds of peels, maybe even thousands. And then, just to emphasize this, there was one of those little signs that warned of a slippery floor.

“Talk about a slipping hazard,” he whispered in amazement.

“THERE YOU ARE,” a loud voice suddenly growled from behind Monkeywrench. He snapped around to see Mr. Filbert, the dorm parent for the cottage. And he looked pissed. “You’ve gone too far this time.”

“What?” Monkeywrench gasped, his eyes going back to the banana peels all over the floor in sudden realization. “I didn’t do this…”

Mr. Filbert shoved a broom into one of Monkeywrench’s hands and a garbage bag into the other. “No more of your monkey business. Get to cleaning.”

“But it wasn’t me,” Monkeywrench protested, knowing that nobody would possibly believe that. After all, this was exactly the kind of prank he was known for. Then with a groan, and seeing that Mr. Filbert was already out of sight, he just shook his head and groaned. “I’ve been framed…”

Domoviye
Combat Finals Announcer, Wednesday afternoon, Dec 12th, 2007

“Oh this will be a good fight! Sunny makes these vines that are really tough to deal with once you get wound up in them. The zombies should be no problem for him,” Tink said over the speakers.

B's smile could practically be heard in her voice. “So we'll get to see who’s stronger, plants or zombies.”

“Yeah!” Tink chirped. “Hey, that would make a great game. Plants vs. Zombies... Hmm. doesn't really roll off the tongue. There's gotta be a better name for it. Rotten Vines? Nah. Green vs. Green? Ugh.”

B sighed. “Wonderful. My roommate is out of commission for a while as she uses her tiny brain working out that problem. So, I guess I'm on my own here.”

Morpheus
Wednesday afternoon, Dec 12th, 2007

Louis Geintz woke from his nap, though it would have been more accurate to describe this less as having been asleep and more as having been projecting his consciousness elsewhere. Regardless, his awareness returned and he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings, surroundings which never changed. However, this time, something was different.

Alien eyes looked up to the surface of his tank, which was much darker than it should be. Pinpricks of light and small pillars were everywhere, but most of the light was being blocked. There was something up there.

For a minute, Louis continued to just stare up at the surface with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and wariness, trying to determine what was interfering with the light. Since this was Hawthorne, even if only the basement, it could be nearly anything at all. The various possibilities which came to mind grew increasingly worrisome. Finally, he moved to get a better look.

The entire surface of his tank was covered with…rubber ducks. Small yellow rubber ducks, the same kind that kids might have in their bathtub. There were hundreds of them, enough to cover nearly the entire surface. Most of them were normal rubber ducks, but some were different. There, scattered among the other ducks were some devil ducks, rubber ducks with black devil horns. These ones were like a clearly written signature which told Luis exactly who was responsible.

“But…how?” Louis exclaimed in stunned confusion.

Even though Louis was sure of the WHO, in regards to this prank, he still had absolutely no idea of the HOW. How could she possibly have done this without him knowing? He was a psychic, one of the most powerful on the planet, and regardless of whether he was projecting his consciousness or not, he should have been able to sense someone getting near his body. Doing something like this without his being aware of it would be quite the challenge, even by Whateley standards.

Louis burst out laughing, causing the water in his tank to slosh around and waves to form on the surface. Rubber ducks were tossed about, some even being flung entirely out of the tank.

“I don’t know how that Imp pulled this one off,” Louis mused as he continued chuckling to himself, “but I will certainly enjoy trying to figure it out.”

The Imp crouched down on the roof of a building, staring across campus at Hawthorne Cottage. She wished she could be there to see the look on Louis’ face, or at least his reaction to her little prank. But unfortunately, she couldn’t risk sticking around any longer, not unless she wanted to get caught.

“I never thought I’d be able to put this thing to a good use,” Imp mused as she casually flipped a small rounded crystal up into the air and then caught it again.

After she’d…acquired this power gem, Imp had never intended to actually use it. It had a low-level mind control ability, which she considered to be far too sketchy for anyone to use, even herself. In fact, she’d even considered flushing it down into the sewer to get rid of the thing entirely, but she hadn’t wanted to risk a mutant gator finding it and creating an army of rat minions. Again.

Fortunately, while doing a little research on the power gem, Imp had discovered that it actually had one more ability, one which was a bit less sketchy and a lot more useful. It could mask the user from psychics, hiding them from telepaths and the like…at least for a short time.

In spite of how useful that trick could be, Imp still didn’t like carrying that power gem around. The mind control aspect was just a little too dangerous, even for someone as responsible as she was. This particular prank had been worth making an exception for since there was no way she could have snuck that close to Louis without him sensing her otherwise. But now that her little fun was over, it was time to put the rock back into hiding.

“It was totally worth it,” Imp assured herself while slipping the power gem back into her pocket. “I just hope that this little prank quacks Fubar up as much as it does me.”

Morpheus
Wednesday afternoon, Dec 12th, 2007

Trixie grinned as she walked away from Dickinson Cottage. School was over for the day, and she’d already switched out of her uniform and into her comfy normal clothes. Now, all that was left was to see what kind of fun she could get into.

“I’m sure there are some good pranks going on,” she mused, looking around and wishing that she knew how to find the pranks. “I want to see them…”

She absently scratched her arm as she debated whether it was better to watch other people’s pranks…or pull her own. Of course, it was no contest. Pranking other people was way better, obviously.

“I do still have to get Jade back for that giant marshmallow pie thing,”

At first, Trixie hadn’t been sure who had been responsible for the pie, but some people in the know insisted that it had been Jade and Beltane. Trixie didn’t know Beltane, but she was familiar with Jade, so Jade was the one she was going to hit first. But the question was, how?

Trixie continued scratching at her arms more frantically, suddenly realizing that the itch wasn’t going away. Instead, it was getting worse. And it was spreading. Instead of one arm, it was both arms…and her back…and.

“IT'S EVERYWHERE!” Trixie cried out. She desperately scratched at one spot and then another, exclaiming, “ITCHY, ITCHY, ITCHY…”

The gadgeteer ran around in circles for several seconds while she tried to figure out how to scratch all her itches, then she had an idea. She dropped to the ground and began rolling around, using the ground to scratch her entire back all at once while she continued trying to get her arms.

“What’s going on?” a voice asked.

Trixie looked up and saw another student standing nearby, a girl who was giving her a somewhat worried expression. Not an expression of worry for her, but more about her…as if she might somehow be a problem.

“I’m itchy,” Trixie explained, still trying to scratch the itching all over her back.

“O…kay,” the girl responded awkwardly as she slowly backed away. She gave Trixie one more look before turning and hurrying away.

“Stupid,” Trixie growled in annoyance. “I should have asked her to scratch my back…”

After this, Trixie got back to her feet and then ran back towards Dickinson and her room as fast as she could. Maybe if she got out of her clothes, she could reach the itchy spots better. Or maybe, a shower might help…

When Trixie reached her room, she slammed the door shut behind her and began to get her shirt off as fast as she could. She was halfway through with that when she finally noticed the package that was sitting in the middle of her bed. It wasn’t a big package, only about six inches by six inches, and about two inches deep. There was also a ribbon around the box and this immediately drew her attention…and her suspicion.

Trixie carefully looked over the box, trying to see if there was anything written on it. There wasn’t. She stood back and threw a shoe at the box, half expecting it to explode or do something else interesting. When nothing happened, she finally decided to open it, being careful as she did so.

Inside the box, there was a piece of paper that simply said, “TO TRIXIE, FROM MISCHIEF.”

However, what was even more telling was the other item in the box, the one that had been sitting right beneath the note. It was a flea collar.

“Itching powder,” Trixie hissed, knowing that her devious rival had a supply of the stuff. Obviously, that was what Mischief had used on her.

Trixie was relieved to know the cause of her incessant and maddening itching, but also angry. Once again, her rival had struck at her in a cruel and underhanded manner. That demanded only one response, or at least only one immediate response.

With that, Trixie dropped to her knees, held her fists above her head and cried out in an appropriately dramatic fashion, “MISCHIEEEEEF!”

Domoviye
Hawthorne Cottage, Wednesday evening, Dec 12th, 2007

The normally quiet basement that FUBAR called home was not so quiet at the moment. A squeaky voice trying to sound deep, was singing quite loudly.

You load 16 tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt,
St. Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store.

A net more commonly used for picking out snot balls dipped into the water and picked up another load of rubber duckies floating contentedly on the surface. Lifting the toys into the air, Tink flew to the side and dumped the ducks into a garbage bag held open by Interest. Both girls were in detention and serving time helping out at Hawthorne. For Tink doing detention at the cottage was practically her full time job, Interest however, was a newcomer.

“Hey, watch it with the net!” Interest shouted, wiping drops of water from her face.

Tink ignored her, and just kept right on singing.

I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine,
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine,
I loaded 16 tons of number nine coal,
And the straw boss said, "Well, a-bless my soul"

FUBAR's human image appeared beside Interest. “Thanks for helping out.”

“It was part of my detention,” Interest grumped. “I can’t even make a clone to do this.”

“Then thank you for not getting into a fight with Tink. She isn't the easiest to work with sometimes.”

“It wouldn't be so bad if she would just shut up. She's been singing that song for an hour now.”

Flying back, Tink was still singing.

You load 16 tons, what do you get?
Another day older and deeper in debt,
St. Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store.

Chuckling, FUBAR replied. “You need to forgive her, small minds can only hold so many things in them at any one time.”

Smirking, Interest had to nod. Tink glared at the pair and began singing louder.

Domoviye
Crystal Hall, Thursday morning, Dec 13th, 2007

Jane sat down with her breakfast and smiled at her friends as they all joined her at their usual spot in the midground between the tables used by the 'pretty' students of Dickinson and Emerson. As usual she mostly stayed quiet while the conversation went on around her, just nodding and making a little comment as necessary. No one expected her to say much, which was fine with her. She was just happy to be included.

Finishing the last of her sausage, she was about to use her buttered toast to wipe the plate clean when there was a scream from a nearby table. Looking up, a girl was grabbing her chin which had sprouted a long, thick beard. More shouts and exclamations came from all over Crystal Hall, as a dozen or so students found themselves with brand new facial hair.

“Someone spiked the food, didn't they?” Aella asked, while looking nervously at her plate.

Cooper burst out laughing. “Yeah, I think they did. Smile, do you want to borrow my razor.”

Jane turned and saw her roommate's eyes go wide as Smile's boyfriend almost fell out of his chair from laughter. The blue haired girl now had a blue goatee. Suddenly where a small human girl with a beard had been sitting, a foot tall fairy sans facial hair sat in her place.

“Uh Jane,” Incognito said, pointing at her face.

Looking down, Jane saw she had a thick curly beard that was rapidly heading to her stomach. Grabbing the coarse hair, she had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. It wasn't the first time she'd had a beard, but it had been a few years.

Her laughter got even louder as Incognito suddenly grew mutton chops and a mustache. It looked ridiculous on her best friend, and the entire table joined in the laughter.

It took a few minutes for the laughter to stop, and Jane was left gasping for air. Finally, she was able to concentrate and shifted, removing the beard. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, no one else at the table had unwanted facial hair. Smile, still in her fairy form, acted like everything was normal with her.

Incognito was looking at himself in a hand mirror. “Not really my style, but hey, I finally have a reason to use my new razor. This will be a good test for it. And I may keep the mustache.”

Jane forced herself to not laugh again, her stomach was still sore from laughing so hard. “Lose the mustache, unless you want me to play 70's porn music whenever you're around.”

“It's not that bad,” Incognito said, pulling on the hair.

“Yes it is,” everyone at the table said.

Rolling his eyes, Incognito shook his head. “Fine. I'll shave it all off after breakfast.”

Domoviye
Thursday morning, Dec 13th, 2007

“Looks like it's my turn,” Incognito said, straightening his lab coat. Fortunately he had been true to his word and shaved before heading to the arena, his plan wouldn’t work if he had a mustache, much less big mutton chops.

Jane grabbed his arm, “Be careful, Shaun, you've already spent enough time in Doyle for the year.”

“Don't worry about it, what's the worst that can happen? It's just a potentially violent fight with rampaging zombies all around,” he tried to joke. It fell flat with Jane looking seriously worried about him. So he just patted her shoulder and gave her his best smile, while his other friends all shouted encouragement.

The gadgeteer was actually feeling pretty good about his chances. Reaching into his pocket he felt his secret weapons, which would make winning the combat final easy. Too bad Jane didn't know about his secret plan, and he didn't have time to tell her.

Getting close to the gate where he'd learn his exact challenge, he ran into his competition, the bully Thud. In a fair competition, the large brick would break Shaun in two without breaking a sweat. So as Shaun's mom always said, don't fight fair.

“Hey Thud,” he said, reaching out to pat the boy on the back. “Look, we both know this won't be much of a competition, you win easy. All I ask is please don't humiliate me. I'll stay out of your way, you don't come looking for me, I let you fight the zombies and win, looking kick ass, while I do my thing and hide. And I'll owe you a favour, maybe a nice leather jacket with some hidden pockets that no one will be able to spot, even if they're holding it.”

Thud sneered, but seemed interested. “OK, you've got a deal. I'm going to want that coat done up really nice.”

“Yeah sure. No problem, In January we can meet up, I'll measure you and we can pick out what style you want.” He held out his hand for Thud to shake, and when the bully shook it, Shaun used both his hands to show his thanks.

Walking together to the gate, they got their briefing. They weren't doing anything special, just find the cure and get it to the pickup point, nice and simple. Thud left to go to the opposite gate, and Incognito got to work.

Flipping his lab coat inside out, he put it back on and pulled several strings hidden in the seams. In fifteen seconds he went from wearing a lab coat to a leather trench coat in a feminine style, it even looked like he had wide hips and breasts. Next he took a flesh mask from his belt, pressing it against his skin, so the glue would seal it on until he used a counter agent. A blonde wig came out of a pocket along the hem of his coat. Putting it on, he took a moment to comb the bangs and shoulder length hair into a proper messy style. For a final touch he unzipped the bottom of his pant legs, and pulled the now loose material up past his knees where tiny hooks held them securely in place. From his knees down it seemed like he was wearing woolen tights.

Looking in a compact mirror, where a rather pale, geeky boy had been, a fashionable blonde woman with a nice tan looked back at him. And it had taken him just under a minute to accomplish it, although the instructors were giving him odd looks.

“What?” he asked. “Thud isn't going to be looking for me.”

Gunny just shook his head.

Thud wasn't sure if he should be happy to get an easy combat final, or pissed that he wasn't going to have a fight. This was his second fight in the finals, the crash with Tink had been for bonus marks, so he didn't really need to do much for a good mark in BMA. A good hard fight even if he lost would have been fun. But an easy A was still an A.

Making sure his mask was in place, he cracked his knuckles, it was almost time to break some zombies and take the win. The buzzer went off and the gate opened. He rushed onto the small town street and began searching for an important looking building.

About two minutes after entering, his sleeve beeped. Something else beeped on his back. “What the hell?” He started to raise his arm when there was a pop and hiss. A thick greenish cloud surrounded him, it smelled like a mix of rotten chicken and a whole truckload of dirty diapers. Gagging he tried to stagger out, but there was another pop and hiss. Everything started going black, he staggered three feet and collapsed into unconsciousness.

Incognito sat in the briefing room after winning the combat final, feeling rather smug. He'd won easily enough, and Thud was still sleeping off the effects of a sleeping gas developed by Alchemical.

Gunny sat across from him. “How did you plant the gas capsules on Thud?”

“I'm good with my hands, Gunny,” he said. To prove it, he handed the old combat instructor his wallet back. “I just talked to Thud before we entered the arena and put a timer on the gas packs that would ensure he was in the arena when they went off.”

The old man grabbed his wallet back with a glare. “All right. I understand why you'd gas him. But why did you decide to use a stink bomb on him as well?”

“Trixie makes the best stink bombs. I had one lying around, and I thought it would be a good backup in case Thud woke up early.”

“You get a B. Good plan, but in a real situation you wouldn't get a chance to plant the gas on him. Now get out of here,” Gunny said, checking his pockets to make sure nothing else was missing.

Morpheus
Thursday late morning, Dec 13th, 2007

“This should be an interesting match,” Dr. Raul Tenant noted after looking at the MIDs on display. “They have nearly identical powers.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Conrad Filbert responded from a short distance away. “Between those two boys, I know exactly which one I’d put my money on.”

The two of them were in the faculty observation area of the arena where they had a great view of the combat finals matches that had been taking place over the last few days. Normally, Dr. Tenant either would have been working in Doyle or would have been at standby in another area of the arena, ready to deal with any injuries that occurred, but he was currently off duty and chose to spend it actually watching a couple of the matches.

“Aegis and Iron,” Dr. Tenant said, looking to Filbert. “Are either of them one of yours?” Since Filbert was the house parent of Twain cottage, there was a good chance that one or both boys were under his care.

“No,” Filbert responded with a shake of his head. “But I’ve heard about both boys…especially Aegis. He has a reputation for jumping into fights and leading with his face. Reckless and unable to fight…a poor combination.”

Dr. Tenant nodded at that, having heard stories of Aegis’ numerous fights during the first weeks of the year and the poor results. In fact, he had even looked after the boy in Doyle after one of those fights. If it wasn’t for Aegis having regen, there was a good chance that he would have been crippled for life.

“And what are the chances that those two will cooperate?” Dr. Tenant mused aloud.

Filbert gave a short laugh. “Ha. Those two? Slim and none.” He chuckled for a moment, then added, “And if…when it comes to an actual fight between those two, I’d put a hundred on Iron to win…”

Suddenly, a new voice spoke up from behind them, announcing, “I’ll take you up on that action.”

Dr. Tenant turned to see the new art teacher coming towards them. The Imp was a strange choice for a teacher, even in a school like Whateley, but he had to admit that she seemed completely qualified to teach her subject. At the moment, she was giving Filbert an almost predatory smile, one made even more sinister by the devil horns on her forehead.

“I have a hundred on Aegis,” she stated, holding her hand out to Filbert.

Filbert hesitated for only a second before shaking her hand. “Done. This will be easy money.”

The Imp just smirked in response and Dr. Tenant noticed that her tail was swishing back and forth, almost like that of an excited dog. Then without another word, she took a seat near them and turned her attention to the arena.

“Like I said,” Dr. Tenant mused to himself with a faint chuckle. “This one will definitely be interesting.”

Chris Matthews stepped into the arena and then paused, resisting the urge to check his mask to make sure it was still there. He knew it was still in place because he’d only put it on a minute earlier and he could feel it on his face. In spite of that, it didn’t stop the nervous worry.

The mask was a larger style domino mask, which he thought looked pretty heroic. He just wished that he had a real costume to go with the mask, because if he was going to do this, it would have been better to look the part. Besides, that kind of thing could only help him get the attention of the Future Superheroes of America. Maybe if he was lucky, they’d decide he was worth paying attention to.

“Focus,” Chris told himself, knowing that he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He knew the theme of his combat final, if not the details. He had to make his way through a zombie apocalypse, get a cure, and get it to the drop-off spot, all while dealing with not only the zombies, but also his opponent, Iron.

Of course, they changed the actual details of the arena between each match. The city map would change…and it wasn’t always even a city. Rapier had been dropped into the middle of an empty desert while he’d heard of someone else ending up in a jungle. And then there were the zombies… Sometimes there they would be slow and shambling, while other times there might be fewer of them, but they could be larger and stronger…or faster and smarter. The people running the matches seemed to take a certain amusement from shaking things up.

Whatever the details were, Chris knew that he wanted to…NEEDED to do well, and not just for his grade. He wanted to impress his friends. He wanted to prove that the Imp hadn’t wasted her time by tutoring him. And most of all, when he told his parents about this match, he wanted them to be proud of how he did.

“Okay,” he mused, making a show of cracking his knuckles. “Let’s do this.”

Chris started forward, taking note of his surroundings. He was in the middle of a city, but it wasn’t some ruined post-apocalyptic setting. In fact, everything looked neater and cleaner than the real thing would. There wasn’t a single bit of litter or graffiti in sight.

“Talk about unrealistic,” he muttered.

The other thing that Chris noticed was that there were no zombies either. Instead, there were people. Normal looking people who seemed to be just walking about doing normal people things. The only thing odd about that was the fact that there were a lot fewer of them than he would have expected to see in a real city. Then again, he thought that this went with the ‘too clean’ thing, being more of an idealized setting than a realistic one.

The sense of abnormal normalcy abruptly ended with a cry of pain that immediately drew Chris’ attention. He saw an older man standing in the middle of the street, wearing a stereotypical while lab coat. The man was screaming as though in agony, though Chris couldn’t see any reason why since he didn’t look as though he’d been injured. Seconds later, the man dropped to the ground and began shaking with some kind of seizure.

“Are you okay?” Chris called out, already moving towards the downed man.

Before Chris could reach him, the man suddenly leaped back to his feet and lunged at a nearby woman, biting into her neck. She screamed and dropped to the ground while several nearby people tried to pull the lunatic off her. He snapped around and began biting and scratching at them as though he was some kind of rabid animal.

“HEY!” Chris cried out, “STOP!”

The man in the lab coat ignored Chris and continued to viciously attack everyone nearby. Then the injured woman scrambled back to her feet and lunged at another woman, biting into her arm. She’d gone just as rabid as the one who’d attacked her.

“The zombie apocalypse,” Chris gasped, realizing that he was seeing the start of that event. “It’s starting now…”

For a moment, Chris thought that he had a chance to stop it. If he took down these people now, there wouldn’t be a chance for it to spread. That would make this mission easier since he wouldn’t have to deal with all the zombies. Maybe he’d even get bonus points for that,

But then, Chris heard more screaming from down the street. He looked in that direction and saw people running…and others chasing them. There were more of the rabid people and their numbers were increasing fast.

In an instant, the last vestiges of normalcy vanished as everything exploded into chaos. Everywhere he looked, people were either rabid lunatics or they were running away from them. Screams now came from every direction.

Chris ran to a woman who was about to be attacked and stood between her and the rabid man. The attacker was practically foaming at the mouth, showing no signs of intelligence, only of mindless aggression. Chris hit him and sent him flying back, right into a cluster of other rabid people. That drew their attention to Chris.

“Come and get me,” Chris challenged them, though they didn’t need any encouragement since they were already charging at him.

These rabid people seemed to be about as mindlessly aggressive as stereotypical zombies, though a bit faster. Instead of stumbling about and calling for brains, they just charged forward as fast any normal person. But fortunately, they didn’t seem any stronger than normal while Chris was a mutant with a PK shell that would protect him from any bites or scratches.

It took Chris less than ten seconds to deal with four new attackers, though when he turned back to the woman he’d been protecting, there was no sign of her. Whether she’d escaped or became another victim anyway, he didn’t know…nor was he sure he wanted to. He was happier thinking that she might have gotten away.

There no longer seemed to be any normal people left. They’d either managed to escape and lock themselves inside nearby buildings, or they’d been turned. That made things a little simpler for Chris since he didn’t have to worry about protecting each and every one of them.

“The mission,” Chris reminded himself. He’d been so distracted that he’d nearly forgotten why he was actually there. “I need to find that cure before Iron does…”

Chris had no idea where to find the cure, but he figured that it might be somewhere in the middle of the arena map. It would only be fair to put it an even distance between him and Iron’s starting positions, though he knew that he couldn’t count on anything actually being fair. What he thought that he could count on though, was that the people running this final probably wouldn’t want to make it too easy on either of them.

More of the rabid people came after Chris, and while none of them were a real threat to him, there was still a risk of them overwhelming him with sheer numbers. He avoided them as much as possible, not allowing himself to get distracted with those unnecessary fights. Soon, he reached the middle of the arena and found his goal.

A large armored truck was stopped in the middle of the street, smoke and flames coming out from the engine. On the side of the truck there was a company logo, a symbol that resembled a DNA helix. Chris had seen the same logo on the lab coat of the first man he’d witnessed going rabid. And standing in front of the truck, being ignored by all the rabid people, there was a nerdy looking woman wearing an identical lab coat.

“Please help,” the woman exclaimed, looking straight at him. “Some of my people were accidentally infected with an engineered plague and began spreading it before we realized the situation. Fortunately, I have the cure, but it needs to be delivered to the drop-off point so that it can be dispersed and end this madness.” She gestured around them before handing a vial full of glowing blue liquid to Chris. “Here, take this cure and deliver it to where the helicopter is waiting…” Then she pointed in one direction.

Chris took the vial, seeing that it was sealed up tight so there didn’t appear to be any risk of it leaking. “Um, if you guys have a helicopter…why can’t it come and pick this stuff up instead?”

The apparent scientist didn’t answer Chris’ question. Instead, she simply repeated, “Take this cure and deliver it to where the helicopter is waiting.”

“Okay,” Chris responded with a shrug, realizing that it was pointless to actually ask any more questions. After all, she wasn’t a real person, just a part of this whole game. “I guess I’d better get going then.”

Chris had barely begun moving in the direction that the scientist had indicated when something suddenly slammed into him from behind and drove him face first into the ground. He slipped around just in time to see another boy coming at him, ready to give him a swift kick in the ribs.

“Iron,” Chris snarled, rolling out of the way and scrambling to his feet before the kick could land.

Iron was a dark-skinned boy with an athletic build and a usually clean-cut and almost preppy look. At the moment though, he stood in front of Chris with a look of fierce determination on his face.

“Give me that cure,” Iron ordered.

“I don’t think so,” Chris responded warily.

He and Iron had mixed it up before. Their teams had fought a couple times, and since he and Iron had very similar powers, they always seemed to end up facing each other. Iron was a little more powerful than Chris, so Chris knew better than to think this would be an easy fight.

Iron gave Chris a smug look. “Then I guess I’ll just have to take it.”

Without any further warning, Iron rushed forward and threw a punch. Chris saw it coming and braced himself to take it. There was a flash of golden energy as their PK shells connected and then Chris was knocked back a few feet.

“Give it up, Aegis,” Iron said with a sneer. “You can’t win.”

Chris just scowled. “Make me.”

Iron came at Chris again, and as he braced himself for the oncoming punch, he suddenly remembered what the Imp always told him about taking a hit. Don’t. She always told him that even if he thought that he could take a hit, he shouldn’t unless he had no better choice. At the last moment, Chris suddenly shifted his stance, so instead of being hit across the face, he stepped aside and grabbed Iron’s arm. Using a move he’d learned from Sensi Ito, he yanked on Iron’s arm, pulling the other boy completely off balance and throwing him to the ground.

Chris smiled faintly, pleased that this had worked. Imp had been right, though he’d already learned that a lot of her lessons worked. He was better at fighting because of what she’d taught him…and one day, he might even become a better hero. He never would have thought that he’d care what a supervillain thought about him, but to his surprise, he did. He wanted to make her proud…though he would NEVER admit that aloud.

“I’m done playing with you,” Iron snarled, making a show of cracking his knuckles.

That act nearly made Chris burst out laughing since Iron just didn’t come across as the tough guy that he thought he did. Most of the time, he just came off as a spoiled rich kid who only thought he was tough, and this was no different.

Seconds later, Iron was on his feet and approaching Chris again, but this time he was more cautious. Chris frowned, realizing that he didn’t have time to fight Iron properly, not if he wanted to get the cure to the drop-off spot. Sure, this was only a make-believe situation, but if it had been a real disease and a real cure, then every minute counted. His scowl deepened as he realized that if he wanted to treat this like the real thing, then he couldn’t waste time with Iron.

“But I can beat him,” Chris muttered to himself, hating the idea of avoiding a fight. All he had to do was push himself a bit harder and he’d be able to take Iron. It was just a matter of who wanted it more. Then he paused before shaking his head. “No… I need to fight smarter, not harder.” Both Imp and Sensei Ito had told him that, and if both of them were saying the same thing…

Iron noticed that Chris was distracted and took advantage of that to lunge at him, punching at his face. Chris blocked the blow, though it hurt his arm. A moment later, he shifted his PK shield, draining power from most of it to concentrate the energy in one arm which began to glow with a golden aura. He stepped forward, hitting Iron as hard as he could and sending the boy flying back, right through several of the rabid people and knocking them out as well.

“Bowling isn’t usually my game,” Chris joked, “but this time I’ll make an exception.”

Chris glanced around, taking in all the infected and crazed people who were approaching. While he had been distracted with Iron, they’d both become surrounded. In just a few seconds, the both of them would probably be dogpiled and overwhelmed with numbers alone. Fortunately, Iron’s brief flight had caught their attention and the whole crowd was momentarily focused on him, giving Chris a brief window to act.

“I can do this,” Chris told himself.

Chris focused on his PK shield again, which had snapped back to normal as soon as he’d punched Iron. Now, he had to shift the energy again, just like he’d done before, though there was a difference. Instead of just focusing it into his arm, he also concentrated on changing the shape of his shield. He held his hand out flat while he forced his shell to stretch out and flatten, taking the shape of a blade. Then he suddenly snapped around and swung his arm at a telephone pole, slicing right through the pole with his PK blade.

His power tutor probably would have called out “TIMBER” or something like that, but Chris merely smirked and said, “Gotcha.”

The telephone pole toppled over, nearly landing right on top of Iron. Iron rolled out of the way in time, though only barely. Still, the crashing pole drove him right into another cluster of infected people who immediately jumped on him. This drew even more attention from the other rabid people, and in an instant, they all began rushing to Iron.

Chris grimaced, knowing that in those old action movies, the hero would make a cheesy one-liner about that time. However, he didn’t say a single word. Instead, he just watched Iron for several seconds, feeling hesitant about this. He wanted to beat Iron fairly, in a real one on one fight, not like this. But then he reminded himself that this test wasn’t’ about beating iron directly, it was about being able to complete the mission. With that in mind, Chris turned and ran towards the drop-off spot.

There were a few infected people in the way, though Chris easily ran past them. When one dove at him, he merely knocked the rabid man aside and kept going. It didn’t take long for Chris to see his destination ahead of him since it was pretty obvious. There was a helicopter sitting in the middle of the street with a man on the ground in front of it, waving for Chris. The fact that the infected people were completely ignoring him only proved that this was where Chris needed to go.

“And there’s the endzone,” Chris exclaimed triumphantly. “Time to make a touchdown.”

“Thank you for bringing us the cure,” the man in front of the helicopter said as Chris handed over the vial. He was wearing a lab coat with the same logo that Chris had seen before. “Now we can take it up and disperse it over the city, ending this plague.”

Just then, an alarm went off overhead, followed by the announcement that the final was over.

Chris slowly walked away from the primary arena area, exhausted and looking forward to sitting down for a real rest. The combat final had been rough enough, but what had really drained his energy was the debriefing that he’d gone through afterward.

“At least I’ll get a good grade out of this,” he muttered to himself. Considering the fact that just a couple months earlier, it had looked like he might fail BMA, this was awesome.

Just then, Chris noticed that a short distance away, a couple of teachers were in the middle of a conversation. He immediately recognized the Imp, and if it hadn’t been for her presence, he probably never would have even noticed Mr. Filbert, the Twain house parent.

Mr. Filbert handed something to the Imp, who immediately stuffed it into a pocket, then he stormed off with a deep scowl on his face, obviously upset about something. Knowing the Imp the way he did, Chris was confident that she must have been making fun of the other teacher…or even pranking him since that kind of thing was going around lately. When Mr. Filbert noticed Chris, he gave the boy a deep glare before storming off in an even worse mood.

On the other hand, the Imp seemed to be in a cheerful mood. Her tail was even swinging back and forth the way it did when she was especially happy. And when she noticed Chris, she grinned even more broadly.

“Congratulations on your match,” Imp exclaimed. “Great job.”

“Um…thanks,” Chris responded, a little startled at how happy she seemed to be about that.

“Really, Bart,” she said, using her nickname for him, the one that always annoyed him when she called him that. Of course, Chris knew that this was why she did it. She liked annoying him…and just about everyone else. There was a reason she was called the Imp. “You did an awesome job out there.”

“Thank you,” Chris said, feeling oddly pleased by the compliment. He looked back in the direction he’d come from, and then to the eccentric art teacher. “I tried really hard to remember everything you taught me…and Sensei Ito.” He quickly added the latter part so she didn’t think he was trying to brown-nose.

Imp nodded at that. “You kept calm under pressure and remembered to use your powers in ways your opponent never expected. You were smart about it too, and that’s the most important part.” She nodded approvingly.

Chris brightened up at her kind words, not sure of what to say in response. Then, without quite meaning to, he quietly admitted, “I just hope I did good enough to make my mom and dad proud.”

The Imp froze at that and just stared at Chris was a strange expression, one he couldn’t quite make out. Then she reached out and touched his shoulder, surprising him a little at this almost intimate contact.

“I’m certain that your mother is very proud of you,” she said, her expression becoming even stranger for a brief second before she abruptly switched back to a broad grin. “Now, you’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll want to celebrate your win.”

“Yes ma’am,” Chris agreed, giving her his own grin before he hurried off. But even as he left, his thoughts still lingered over the Imp’s assurances and how pleased those words made him.

Amethyst and Domoviye
Thursday afternoon, Dec 13th, 2007

Over the speakers Tink shouted, “Hurray! It's time for my dear friend Mutt to enter the fray! Mutt is such a cutesy wootsie doggy, that is always a good boy.”

“Tink, are you going to say anything about Fetch, who is also your friend?” B asked.

“He's cool too. But Mutt is sssssoooooo cute! And he lets me ride on his back.”

There was the sound of a palm hitting a forehead. “Let me just mute your mic for a moment. Our next opponents are Fetch, a manifestor and avatar, with a heightened sense of smell and hearing, who can also manifest his spirit dog, Mutt. Mutt is capable of growing to the size of a truck, and since he's just ectoplasm, he's hard to hurt.”

“AND HE'S REALLY CUTE!”

“Yes Tink, now hush. And his opponent is ElectroCute, a pretty new student who is a cat girl, with electricity powers, regeneration, and she's an exemplar three. Ouch, Fetch is going to have trouble with her.”

“She looks even fluffier than Mouser!” Tink said. “I don't know who to cheer for!”

There was a pause. “You might not cheer for your friend because his opponent is a fluffy cat?”

“Look at her! She's so fluffy and cute! I just want to give her a big hug and never let go!”

B sighed. “I should have expected that.”

Fetch entered the arena for his combat final, glad he couldn't hear what his friend Tink was saying about him and how cool he was. OK, Tink wasn't really talking about him, but his manifested spirit dog. He was usually forgotten once people saw Mutt appear, and that was going to happen now as well. Kneeling down, he scratched Mutt's head, earning a sloppy kiss in return.

“OK, boy, you remember what the cat girl smells like?” he asked his spirit.

Mutt gave a little woof.

“Good boy. You're going to stick by my side, but once you smell her let me know. You can do it right?”

Another woof.

“Good boy. If you do a good job, I'll get you a burger when we're done.”

Mutt wagged his crooked tail and barked in delight at the promised treat.

Standing up, Fetch sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose at the scent of rotting flesh. The Mcguffin was usually close to the zombies. So going towards the rotten smell was the best idea. Doing up his leather coat, he double checked his protective gloves as well as his padded baseball cap and mask combo which while not as good as a helmet was less conspicuous.

Ready for anything, he started jogging towards the zombies.

Felicia waited to step into the arena, checking her gauntlets and equipment underneath the baggy hoodie that she was wearing one last time. She didn't really have a costume yet, but she had an awesome idea that would help her stand out in these combat finals. Other than her hoodie and jeans, she was just wearing her gauntlets, a small backpack, and a mask. She'd been told that the mask was required, but couldn't see why it was necessary. How many fuzzy and adorable bobcat girls could there possibly be?

Since she was so new to the school, Felicia didn't have to be in a combat final, but after some begging and convincing she was allowed to do it for extra credit. It was too bad they wouldn't let her choose any entrance music though. She had the purr-fect song picked out and everything. That didn’t mean she couldn’t make an awesome entrance though.

The moment that the door opened to let her into the arena, she reached into the pocket of her hoodie for the goodies that she had gotten from her new pal, Xia, otherwise known as Gestalt. She quickly armed the flash bomb and tossed it through the entrance, followed by a pair of smoke bombs. They were all on a timer, so as soon as she tossed them, she followed them out to near where they had landed, counting down from thirty as she waved and smiled to the audience, wherever they were. When she reached number two, she tightly closed her eyes, just before the flash of light erupted around her.

“All according to plan,” she thought giddily as she opened her eyes and giggled, smoke billowing around her in a thick cloud to hide her from view. She didn’t have time to waste though, so she swiftly shucked her backpack, followed by her jeans and hoodie, leaving her only in her lacey pink bra and panties, and her gauntlets.

Then she searched in the backpack by touch for the leotard she would wear in place of a costume; it was a simple black and green and would leave most of her fur on display. Also inside, was a utility belt with various stuff she might need for a fight and a couple of other easy to get goodies. She hadn’t really had a lot of time to prepare for this, but she’d done the best she could.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, immediately regretting it as she began to cough and hack from the smoke she inhaled. *cough* *cough* *haaack* “Eww! I got it in my mouth! Focus, Felicia, and get into costume!”

She quickly stepped through the leg holes of the leotard, hopping around on one foot as she attempted to get into it. “Oh noes, it’s caught on a claw!” She couldn’t seem to get it unstuck and was still desperately trying and hopping around in her underwear when the smoke cleared.

Suddenly, she could feel all those eyes on her as she gave a nervous smile, laughed, and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly. “Ehehehe… umm… we are now experiencing technical difficulties, please stand by.” Aww, she had a whole speech worked out and everything, but now the moment was lost.

She was sporting a full-body blush beneath her fur as she managed to get her claw unstuck and quickly hoisted up the leotard to get it on properly. Once it was properly in place, she then extracted her makeshift utility belt and the other goodies she had packed and put them on in their proper places as well before tossing her shed clothes and backpack aside. She tried to shrug off the embarrassment and get ready for a fight, mumbling nervously to herself, “Well, I definitely stood out with that entrance. Now it’s go time.”

Sniffing the air, the smell of rotting flesh made her wrinkle her nose in distaste. It seemed to be coming from the same direction as the screams. "Okay, Felicia, you totally got this," she said to psyche herself up. "Taffy is going to be super-impressed when you swoop in, save people and find that package first."

She ran quickly toward the sounds and scents, the pads on her digitigrade feet making scarcely any sound. It wasn't long before the screams led her to a horde of a dozen undead attacking defenseless people. She smiled a feline smile as the horde came into sight. She had just the thing to take care of these undead bozos.

Reaching into one of her pouches, the cat girl extracted a ball bearing. Unfortunately, one of her claws caught and tore at the material of the hastily made pouch, spilling the remainder of the small metallic balls onto the pavement. Felicia let out a gasp before wailing, “Oh noes! I've lost my marbles!”

Wailing was precisely the wrong thing to do apparently, because it drew the attention of the horde onto her. She backed away slightly as she attempted to focus on the ball bearing that now levitated in front of her, rather than the zombies running toward her. She had been hoping to keep them at a distance at first, but it was far from the first time that she would have to improvise after a plan was cratered. It wasn’t even the first time today.

After a moment of concentration, she shouted out, “Neko Rail Gun!” Then she released the built-up magnetic force to send the projectile flying toward the zombies, striking one in the eye before bursting out the back of its head in an eruption of skull shards and brain matter. “Yes! Bullseye! Errr... Zombie eye.”

“Dammit,” she thought. She only got one, if she'd had time to charge her railgun attack properly, she probably could have taken out that one and the two behind it. She needed to think fast and improvise, those zombies were getting uncomfortably close. They were almost close enough to, well, it seemed like they were close enough to slip on the spilled ball bearings.

Zombies fell to the ground in a heap, and one flew past her as she deftly stepped aside and stuck out her arm to clothesline it. “Huh, and Taffy said this was nothing like pro wrestling.” The audible snap of the undead's neck caused her to wince, but she didn't have time to hang around. She had a mission to complete, after all.

Unfortunately, she couldn't have these things following her, so it was time to take out the trash. Unslinging the super soaker from her back, she quickly hosed down the zombies who were trying to get to their feet or crawl the rest of the distance toward her and then let loose with some of the electricity stored in her gauntlets. “So long, suckers!” she called back at the scorched and twitching zombies as she ran down the street to continue her search.

Mutt barked and stopped running. Sniffing, Fetch immediately knew what his spirit was barking for, he could smell the cat.

ElectroCute was down the street, and it seemed she was jogging towards the same place he was. If it came to a one on one fight, he was dead meat. Fortunately he didn't have to fight. “Mutt, play with the kitty!”

Barking happily, Mutt took off running. With each step, the spirit grew larger, going from knee high to the size of a small truck with a deep, echoing bark to match. ElectroCute saw the spirit coming and let out a shout.

Felicia gaped wide-eyed as Mutt ran towards her, seeming to get bigger with each step until he was easily the size of a truck. “Holy catnip! That is one huuuuge puppy!”

She barely had time for that brief exclamation before Mutt was upon her, barking and licking her with his massive tongue, causing Felicia to giggle and laughingly protest. "No! No slobber! Do you have any idea how long it takes me to clean my fur every morning?!" Then she moved in to tackle the colossal dog and soon the pair were rolling around and Mutt was barking up a storm as the pair played and Felicia laughed, completely forgetting what she was supposed to be doing.

Fetch stared in shock as his spirit and the cat girl rolled around on the street, laughing and barking like they were having a blast. “Doesn't she know she's being marked?” he asked the air.

The sound of zombies groaning nearby snapped him back to reality. Pulling out his collapsible baton, he started jogging hoping to get around the threats. With the way Mutt and ElectroCute were playing, they'd attract all the attention, letting him slip by mostly unnoticed.

There was something that Felicia was supposed to be doing, and she was pretty sure that it didn't involve playing with a giant dog. She managed to subdue Mutt, or more likely he had let her, and she was now giving belly rubs as she tried to get her bearings and keep Mutt from licking her again. He seemed pretty happy with the arrangement as she said, "Who's a good, big, stupid dog? You are! Yes you are!"

Now what was it that she was doing before puppy playtime? A groan caught her attention and that was when she discovered that she and the colossal canine were effectively surrounded. "Oh, right,” she muttered. The combat final was a thing, a thing that she was supposed to be trying to win. Now, how to get out of this situation?

There was no time to make a plan that would likely fail anyway, so she would have to improvise and use what she had at hand, as if there was any doubt that it was going to eventually turn out that way. Now, what did she have at hand? A horde of zombies, a big electric charge from playtime, a few items in her utility belt, and a really big dog. Since those zombies were starting to get close, she decided to start off by releasing all that electricity.

The result was both effective and amusing, resulting in the overpowering scent of fried rotting meat and the closest group of zombies twitching and almost dancing as the electric current ran through their bodies. She knew they weren't real zombies of course, but some sort of advanced robots, which was very appropriate since that was the dance they were currently performing. It was time to bust some heads.

In a flurry of punches, slashes, and kicks, Felicia disabled most of the group of twitching zombies. She was not about to bite them since she did not want to know how they tasted and neither zombies nor robots were something she was planning on adding to her diet any time soon. Snatching the last zombie standing by the arm, she used every ounce of strength and tossed it at the biggest group of the horde and yelled, "Clifford, fetch!"

The big dog turned from where he was snapping and batting at his own group of zombies, and gave a loud bark of joy. Spinning on his heels, accidentally knocking down the last zombie standing with his oversized tail, he charged after the zombie ball. Running full speed into the newest group of toys, he sent them sprawling like bowling pins.

It was only after the body was sent flying that Felicia noticed a torn off arm was still in her hand. She tossed it at another zombie's head, using the brief distraction to grab that zombie by the arm as well and swing him into another pair, sending all three flying as the large dog gleefully played with the zombies surrounding him.

Five minutes later...

Felicia was feeling pretty pleased with herself as she sat atop the giant dog, gave him a good kick in the sides and called out, "Ride 'em doggy, away!" The zombies were all dealt with and now she just needed to use this big puppy to quickly find the prize. Mutt didn't move. "Oh right, dogs are stupid." It was just as she was about to leap off and make a run for it that a buzzer sounded and a voice boomed through the arena stating that the combat final was over.

Fetch had won.

"Wait, I lost? Awww and I was so cool too," she muttered with a pout. She was just about to dismount her not-so-loyal steed, when Mutt took off at a run straight toward his master causing her to frantically cling to his fur. "No, wait! This was a bad idea, I wanna get off!"

Fetch sat in the chair, wiping sweat from his brow. He hadn't had to fight much thanks to Mutt and ElectroCute making so much noise, but he'd been running almost the entire time and he was tired out. Mutt, who was back to his usual small size, was panting happily, his crooked tail hitting the ground as he waited for his reward. The cat girl held a plastic garbage can in her lap, somehow looking green even with her fur after a wild ride on Mutt.

Gunny looked at them and shook his head. “Fetch good use of your spirit and senses to win the final. You get an A. ElectroCute... it's a good thing this is just a bonus mark for you.”

“Aww!” ElectroCute was about to say something when her stomach heaved and she threw up in the bucket again.

Fetch looked up at the old man as his super sensitive nose began running from the acrid smell. “Can I go now, please? Before I throw up too.”

“Get outta here,” Gunny said.

Racing for the door, Fetch wondered if most combat finals were like this.

Morpheus
Thursday afternoon, Dec 13th, 2007

“This is gonna be great,” Trixie said with a giggle as she hid around a corner, just down the hallway from the devisor labs. “She’ll be here any minute, and then…” She burst into giggles.

Trixie quickly looked down at the new toy that she’d ‘borrowed’ from Monkeywrench. After swapping out the chocolate pudding with a more appropriate material, it was ready for use. Now, all she needed was her target.

Suddenly, the intercom overhead came to life, which was no surprise since it had been making frequent announcements over the last couple days. However, instead of the expected announcement of who was to report to the arena next, a song began playing instead.

Never gonna give you up
Never gonna let you down
Never gonna run around and desert you
Never gonna make you cry
Never gonna say goodbye
Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you

The song abruptly ended just as suddenly as it had begun. There was nothing else over the intercom, suggesting that whomever had done this had either been caught in the process…or they didn’t want to claim credit for it.

Trixie was still considering this when her target finally arrived. She nearly missed her opportunity, but caught herself just in time. With only a couple seconds more delay than originally planned, Trixie jumped out from behind the corner, rolling a bowling sized ball along the ground before opening fire with her borrowed weapon.

A spray of white foam shot at the petite girl who barely dove out of the way in time. Then the target, Jade Sinclaire, codenamed Generator, pulled something out of her belt. An instant later, whatever it was unfolded into what resembled a metallic foil umbrella which acted as a shield, blocking the rest of the spray.

“NO!” Trixie cried out in disappointment. She’d missed Jade entirely.

A moment later, the bowling ball sized grenade exploded, sending out a spray of harmless shrapnel that spread out for nearly ten feet in every direction. After this, Jade lowered her shield took a look at her surroundings before locking her attention on Trixie.

“Nice try, rookie,” Jade announced in a smug tone.

“I almost had you,” Trixie grumbled.

Jade snorted dismissively. “Almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades and nuclear weapons.”

Then Jade cautiously touched the white foam that covered the outside of her shield. She gave it a sniff and then a cautious taste before looking at the colorful shrapnel that had spread over the area afterwards.

“Marshmallow fluff and sprinkles,” Jade said with some amusement. “Let me guess…you were going for a tar and feather kind of thing…”

Trixie reluctantly nodded her agreement, pouting as she did so. “Yeah…”

“Not too bad an idea,” Jade commented as she critiqued the failed prank. “A bit derivative though and not as creative as you could be.” Then she shook her head in mock disappointment. “And your follow through really needs work.”

Trixie gave the other girl a defiant look as she promised, “I’ll remember that in the future…”

“You do that,” Jade responded with a wide grin that hinted at an evil promise. Then she casually tossed her folding shield aside and continued on her way down the hall, going right past Trixie and pausing just long enough to add, “I’ll be seeing you later, rookie.”

For a moment, Trixie just remained where she was, filled with disappointment over the failed prank and how funny it could have been if everything had worked. But then, her thoughts turned to Jade’s final words and she suddenly felt a cold chill run down her spine.

Domoviye
Combat Finals Announcer, Thursday afternoon, Dec 13th, 2007

“... I don't think tentacles are supposed to go there,” Tink said over the speaker, her voice tight.

“Who is this Blue guy?” B asked. “I thought he was a wizard. I've never seen a wizard do something like that before.”

“I have. One of Mouser's comic books I'm not supposed to read had that spell in it. It was really icky.”

“And there are some more tentacles. OH GOD!!! I did not want or need to see that!”

“So that's what the ANT's look like without clothes on. Just like the girls in Mouser's comic books.”

“Uh... I don't think we're supposed to be showing this to teenagers. I'm out. I don't want to have angry parents coming after me,” B said.

The sound of a door slamming could be heard, as Tink commented on how Blue would fit right in with some Japanese actor named Hentai.

Domoviye
Thursday late afternoon, Dec 13th, 2007

Tink flew as quickly as she could up to the top of the library. Imp had finally left her class and from the looks of things was going to do her usual brooding hero impression at her favourite gargoyle. Fortunately the art teacher had to rely on walking and climbing to reach the roof, which gave Tink plenty of time to prepare her little plan.

Taking a piece of paper and a tiny jar of special glue that was about half as big as she was from her bag, Tink unscrewed the top and used the brush built into the lid to put a drop of glue on the paper. Flying up to the top of the gargoyle, she attached it to the cold stone head, giggling as she did.

The paper had, 'Brooding Reservations' in big black letters at the top, and below it in smaller handwriting were names like Batman, Champion, Goliath, Moon Knight, Daredevil and more, with Imp mixed in the middle.

Flying back down to the glue, Tink poured out the rest of it in two spots, both of them were the most likely places Imp would put a foot while grabbing the paper. The glue was a special one made by the gadgeteer Incognito. It would look dry, but when pressure was put on it, or a bit of heat from skin, it would become really sticky and actually dry super fast. He said it was to help with quick change outfits and masks, but Tink figured it would work great for pranking the art teacher.

Laughing to herself, she spread the glue as much as she could. Finished, she peeked over the edge and saw the Imp was almost at the library. It was time to make herself scarce.

“This is going to be the best prank ever! And I'm never going to tell anyone I did it,” she said to herself. As fun as it would be to let everyone know she got the Imp, Tink had no desire to be on the receiving end of the retaliation.

Fiddlerfox
Melville Cottage, Thursday late evening, Dec 13th, 2007

The twilight stars shone down upon campus as native wildlife went about their nightly routines. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about a fox being active at night, nor even about a fox running on campus after hours. A fox who was scurrying from bush to bush only to stop outside the basement windows of Melville cottage however, was a tad odd.

In an instant, a red haired foxgirl with a pair of floofy tails was next to the window where the fox used to be. Taking a hairpin out of her hair, she worked at the narrow window for a moment, then slid it open. Suddenly the fox was back, slipping through a window along the ground otherwise too small to crawl through and hopping down to the floor below.

Catherine looked about the room smiling smugly to herself as she moved a chair three feet to underneath the open window.

"I was unaware you were skilled at picking locks, cousin," spoke the voice in her head.

"Yeah, well, I also was married to a superspy and go to Xavier's academy. I probably know more than most people my age, either number."

"A fair point. I am glad that you decided we couldn't let all the pranking go unanswered. We are, after all, of the blood of foxes." Siona sounded smug as she spoke.

Catherine grinned as she reached for a small bag she had over her shoulder. "But of course! Besides... this'll be fun."

The mischievous redhead reached into the bag, withdrew a half mask respirator and placed it over her mouth. She also took out a pair of disposable plastic gloves and put them on before handling a book of Dickinson poems and six cans of Surströmming.

"Explain again why taking the cans from campus won't be noticed?" Siona asked curiously.

An eyeroll happened before the explaining. Siona wasn't from now, not really, so some bits of the way the modern world functioned still escaped her. "Because officially they never arrived. I simply had to be at the loading dock the day the shipment of supplies for the Scandinavian Cuisine class arrived. Every shipment of goods sent between places has bills of lading and packing lists stating what was in each shipment. These are double checked by the workers receiving shipments and any discrepancies noted. It's common for there to be a difference in amounts sent versus amounts received, and these are usually written off at that time. I just made sure six cans 'fell off the truck' and officially those six cans never actually arrived on campus."

"And the poems to shift the blame to our enemies? Not a bad plan."

Siona almost sounded impressed. Catherine was fairly proud of herself; the snobs of Melville had to get their noses dirty, and they should shift their attention to Dickinson cottage as opposed to figure out who actually was responsible. As part of the Dream Team, if anyone did wonder why Catherine was out and about at night, she had probable cause to be wandering while fulfilling her secret duties.

The book of poetry was next, with six pages of poems chosen randomly removed from the book. A small screwdriver appeared next, and a panel was carefully removed from the large hardware machine in the room. The machine which was, in point of fact, the entire reason this room was chosen. This room was none other than the room which housed Melville's forced air vent system for heating and cooling.

Each of the cans of Surströmming were systematically opened, placed atop pages of Dickinson poetry, and slipped into the forced air vent. Once the panel was replaced, Catherine systematically ensured no evidence of the crime was left behind. A moment later and the small fox leapt onto the chair and from there out the window before Catherine reemerged to shut and lock the window behind her.

As the fox crept silently into the night the unmistakable aroma of Surströmming began to waft through the cottage in her wake.

To Be Continued