Ultimate Wonder Woman #19: The Coming Madness pt.1

[jackalope]

Ultimate Wonder Woman #19
Fear and Wonder: The Coming Madness pt. 1

Gateway City Bank

She breathed in the air, smelling the sweat of nerves. The familiar tingle of kinesis made her legs tingle. She smiled. Something inside her had missed this.

A gunshot rung out, which she pulled her body left and dodged. She leapt over the desk and rolled onto her knees.

“Where is she?” a voice asked in a harsh whisper. Another man gestured at one of the desks in the middle of the bank floor.

“We're so fucked!” a voice added.

“Shut up!”

Nine, she guessed nine. She sighed; maybe there'd be a couple hiding out back. She looked around at the bank; it was really nice, the cut marble stone reminded her of the temple at her home. Her old home. Opening her backpack she pulled out an apple, rubbed it and took a bite. She caught the eye of a sweating bearded man, wearing a white security guard uniform, he cowered under another desk. She lifted her eyebrows and gave a small wave of her hand whilst she munched away.

“Don't you know who that is? That's the Wonder Woman...”

The security guard seemed to be uncomfortable, either in pain or just desperately afraid. She gave him a smile to reassure him. He pulled out a pistol and put it on the floor and pushed it towards her. She picked up the weapon and looked it over. Obviously, she thought, he wanted a compliment. She pointed at a gun and gave him a thumbs-up, then placed the weapon on the ground and slid it back to him. He looked at her with disbelief.

She turned, still crouching, and leapt the desk. Two shots, her arms blurred. The balaclava wearing robbers scrambled, dodging aside, ducking and sprinting out around her. One robber pumped his shotgun. Lifting it, her heavy black boot slammed it downwards, and he unloaded into his own foot. His cry was cut short by her other foot in his face.

Pang She turned to face a pistol toting aggressor. She jumped, turning in the air, her fist connected with his jaw. She took another bite of her apple. Two were running for the doorway. A chair crashed into front runner's legs. He tripped, the following runner following suit. Diana dropped the apple core in the rubbish bin.

“Now!”

She turned in time just to lift her arm in time to knock the first shot aside. Five men stood on the other side of the bank counter, unloading a medley of weapons at her. One clipped her arm. Teeth gritted, she concentrated, making sure her deflection did not hit the innocents within the room. One of the gun man collapses with a bullet in his shoulder. Taking turns loading, the others kept firing at her as they started to move to the exits. Her legs set in place, the force of the rounds knocked her back inches at a time.

“Keep it up, don't let her move!”

She made herself to move faster. They were halfway towards the door, running in two groups on either side of her, forcing her to move each arm to defend her flanks. One of the guns suddenly clicked, out of ammunition. She used the chance to duck under one of the heavy wooded bank desks; she flipped it over as a barricade.

“See,” said one of the robbers pointing at the desk, as they met up on the other side of her, nearer the exit, “that's how it's done. I told you, teamwork, focus on the aim, don't get flash. Those costumed fuckers could learn a thing or two from your average professional crook. Never take your eyes off the pr...”

They dived aside, as the huge wooden desk flew towards them.

Close behind the Amazon appeared, lasso in hand. With a crash the table landed, skidding along the floor still on its side. Diana kicked off it, roping the furthest gunman, who had almost made it to the exit. Kicking and screaming, he was dragged back. Her foot smacked aside a pistol, flicking back upwards to clock the robber's jaw. Ducking a punch, she quickly wrapped the rope around the man's arm and yanked him off his feet.

She turned. The barrel of a rifle hovered in front of her face. A blur of movement. Pulling the trigger, the barrel exploded from the twisted end. She lowered her wrist braces, and plucked a shard of metal from her elbow. The stunned robber looked at her, not bothering to duck when the fist connected with his forehead.

Outside the sound of sirens wailed, as half a dozen cop cars pulled up. She could hear the slamming doors as police emerged from their cars.

The remaining robber conscious, caught in the lasso, rolled over and looked up at her. “You know, you’re just contributing to the rise of costumed crime. It's kind unfair on us... normals.”

She crouched down and pulled off her backpack, unzipping it and grabbing some rope from it. “You have gun,” she said flicking her eyes to him, then pointed behind her, “they does not. Fair?”

“No.” He sighed, watching as she tied his hands, “You're pretty hot you know that? I would totally bang you...” He hesitated, “I don't know why I...”

Finally secured, she removed the lasso and wound it up. Red-cheeked, she avoided his eyes, “Plaise, stop talk.”

“Attention,” the megaphone echoed from outside, “this is the Gateway P.D. we have you surrounded. We don't won't any unnecessary violence.”

Diana walked to the entrance, then turned back at the Security guard who was just now getting to his feet. She pointed at him and smiled, “You got this?”

She stepped out into the daylight.

* * *

The screens played different angles of Wonder Woman leaving the bank. Police waved their weapons then she waved back. One figure, bathed in the reflected light, watched as she nervously smiled at everyone, then took off, leaping clear over the cop cars and down into the city. The some of the screens started back in the loop, whilst with others the footage continued into mute shots of journalists reporting on the matters.

Veronica Cale sipped her coffee and, without turning, spoke, “Who is she?”

“Merely another chess piece on the board,” the distorted reply came from the shadow figure in the corner. “Nothing to worry yourself with.”

Cale shook her head, but did not turn it; the unnatural void creature unnerved her- though she tried not to show it. “She's operating in my city. I don't appreciate being told what I should be worrying about,” she said coldly.

“You have much to worry about,” the Shadow said flickering away and reappearing by the blond CEO. The Shadow leaned in close, “Many secrets you would like to keep hidden. Especially now you are with the Star laboratory consultant.” The figure appeared on the other side of her desk. “The Amazon has her role to play in all of this. She is a catalyst; her contact has already changed the path of many, as you know yourself. Where would you be if she had not saved you from Dr Cyber?” Veronica drained the rest of her cup. The dark creature continued, “We are playing a dangerous game, one with many players and many plans. We must gather our own team to complete our goal. Have you found the biologist we require?”

Veronica nodded, “We've narrowed down a list. One will be found shortly.”

“Good,” the haggard voice said. The shadow figure flickered to the doorway. “When this time comes, I will deal with the Wonder Woman myself, she will have much to answer for.” The voice blinked out.

When she was sure the blurred figure had left Veronica sighed. A shiver ran up her spine. “She will have much to answer for?” she whispered under her breath. Turning off the televisions, she pressed the button on the intercom. “Margaret, get me Professor Zaul at Gateway University. Tell her we've got an offer for her.”

* * *

Metropolis Subway

Cracked tiles line a grime covered wall. Under a luminous flickering light, a woman sat huddled in a mound of old clothes and newspapers. Her head hung forward, lulling in the quiet. Normally, even at this time of night, the platform would be buzzing with people, but stop two of the 'Suicide Slums' had been closed for maintenance and for now only the homeless inhabited this area. On the white tiled walls behind her spray painted tags fill the area. Names and drawings build up and then suddenly give way around her, leaving a white-like halo around her. Within this space 7 symbols are drawn.

Her gaunt face slowly sinks downwards, only to jerk back up, reawakening. She shifts her arms, shuffling the old papers aside, feeling around for something. Smiling, she lifts a greasy paper ball, unwrapping a half-eaten burger. Her young face, prematurely haggard, took a bite. Her glazed eyes stared into nothing. Chewing, she pulled a thick black pen from within her pocket. She swallowed and then removed the cap with her teeth, and lifted her palm and drew. Switching hands she did the same on the other. Replacing the cap, she tucked the pen away and ate the rest of her burger.

Wind whistled. A vibration in the ground grew, and with it a faint rattling sound echoed down the subway tunnel. She closed her eyelids. The subway train ripped through the platform stop, never slowing with the area being shut. When her blind eyes opened she knew he was there.

“Hello my Priestess.” She was never quite sure whether the voice came from around her or within her. Or both. It sounded like honey and sunshine. “Your God is here.”

She turned her head. “Oh it's you; I thought it might be someone from the I.R.S., coming to collect my unpaid taxes.”

The God smiled, she could feel his tanned skin radiate onto her. “Kelly, your humour does you credit, you never fail to make me smile.” He stepped towards her. “I choose well.”

A flicker of sadness in her whitened eyes, which she quickly suppressed. She turned her face towards him. “What do you want, oh great god of light and healing?” she said flatly.

He crouched down in front of her, reaching out to brush the dirty blond hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Now, now, Kelly. You almost sound upset. It was an honour for your ancestors to serve me...”

“I'm sure they were kept in such temples of luxury...” She bit her tongue, unsure if she had overstepped some mark in the wave of bitterness.

She felt his hot breath on her cheek as he leaned in close. “Come mortal, I'm only trying to keep you safe from those that may harm you, or use your blessing....”

“Use it against you, you mean.”

“Careful.” She felt his hand suddenly grip her jaw, his fingers almost burning her skin. “Now what prophecies have you seen?” She tried to shake her head but he held it firm. “Kelly my Oracle, you can't refuse your God. Look I have even brought something to help.” The sound of something bubbling under a flame followed by an intake of breath.

She tried to grip his arm and pry it off, but it was like rock. Eyes wet, she whimpered, “Please... no.”

He moved his lips to hers and blew. She tried to hold her breath, but the noxious fumes floated around her and into her nostrils and mouth. The familiar dizzy feeling grew until her eyes rolled back. “The red god approaches and madness follows in his wake.”

“That'll be my brother, always with the entrances,” he said releasing her face.

Her head lolled to the side as she spoke, “War follows close, as do the other children of Olympus. They fear the shadow that seeks to destroy them, and the child made to bring their end. They fail to see the other dangers, from close and from very far...”

“Other dangers?” She tried to fight the effect of the drug, but the visions pushed their way into her mind. She could hear his clothes move as he stood and took a step away. His voice still friendly, he changed topics. “What's with the symbols? I know the 'S' for the Alien who pretends to be mortal and the lightning bolt- for the Hermes imitator. Who are the others?”

She leaned her hooded head back on the cold cracked tile behind her. “They are those that must gather if the world is to survive the wraith of the New Gods.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “New Gods. What... New Gods? The Gods of Olym...who? ” His voice took a cautious tone.

“Not of Earth.” Hearing him sigh, she thought it strange how such a supposed 'God' seemed so un-all-knowing.

“Then where?” His voice was now tinged with hesitation.

“Dark Gods approach from space beyond, carried through tunnel of sound and fury. They are the True Ones, those born in the Fourth World closest to the Source.” She rolled her head up to him and let a lazy bitter smile form on her lips. “To them you are imitators, broken reflections of themselves. They would end your existence if they were to take this world. The Anti-Life would reign, the Dark Side its King.”

Apollo gritted his teeth. “How do I stop it?”

“You don't.” The Oracle lifted her hand above her, her finger pointing towards drawn star. “She might. They might.”

He looked at the seven symbols, then down at his Oracle that sat underneath. He had heard of such beings, the older gods had mentioned them, always in hushed whispers. The Forth Worlders? Here? He turned around; realising that what he felt must be what mortals called fear. “Don't speak of this to anyone,” he called over his shoulder, “or I will take your speech, like I took your sight...”

Kelly did not reply, instead she lifted her palms to face the god. On one was the word 'FUCK,' on the other- 'OFF.' The rumbling sound of the subway train passing sounded her God's departure.

* * *

Sirens blared. The cop car screeched to a stop and officers jumped out. On the steps of the large house a woman in a dressing gown stood crying. Her hair messy, her clothing seemed covered in blood. The huge figure of Sgt. Harold Champion passed her, stopping at the open door, with his gun drawn, and looking inside.

Mike reached the grieving woman. “Ma'am, ma'am. Are you injured?” She shook her head, crying even harder. Nodding, he carefully continued, “More police backup is on its way, and so is an ambulance. We will go into the building, make sure it's safe, and see what's going on. If you want to go over to your neighbours, or you can stay out here, until me know what's going on.”

Still balling she leaned back against one of the white support beams, leaving blood smears. Mike looked to Harold and nodded. Harold moved into the house, eyes glancing for any particular danger. He pointed at the stairs, “I'll take the upstairs- you sweep the downstairs.”

Mike nodded. As his partner moved upstairs, Schorr quickly moved around the ground floor. Fairly tidy, a few dishes and glasses left out in the kitchen from the night before. The lounge was clear- as was the laundry. “Schorr,” his radio crackled in. “Upstairs.” Mike ran. He heard Harold call from the master-bedroom. “In here.”

Circling into the room he saw Champion standing by the bed, then he could see what he was called for. “Fuck.” A bloodied mess of a corpse lay on the bed, savagely ripped open, organs spilled out. He bit his tongue- trying not to throw up.

“Another one?” Sgt. Champion asked. Harold looked back to Sgt Schorr, who wore a grave expression. The 'heart tearer,' the unofficial name given by Gateway P.D. to the serial killer that was loose in the city, was a number one priority within the department. So far the story was that it was a wild animal that had escaped from some zoo or private collection. On the down-low all of the force knew this wasn't the case. Though the killings had animalistic qualities to them in the bite and claw marks, no-one could identify what kind of animal could do such damage without being seen by anyone. The closest match forensics could come up with was a Cheetah, and behaviourally it seemed unlikely. Whoever, or whatever it was that was attacking people, was taking their hearts, for what he and the detective department suspected was for ritualistic reasons. It would be long before this theory leaked to the media and when that happened there would be mass panic.

Mike shook his head. “I don't think so.” The other attacks, though brutal, were reasonably clean. A bite on the throat and the heart taken, almost as if had been ripped from the chest. Sometimes there were claw marks but they'd never been this savage. “This looks different.”

More sirens. Harold holstered his pistol. “Back-ups here.”

The police radios started. “What is your situation? Over.”

Schorr nodded, pressing the button on his radio. “Roger, house clear- we have a 10-45D. We are going to need forensics.”

“Roger. On their way.”

They heard the other police men make their way up the stairways. Schorr called back to them. “Ronny, you might not want to come...”

The cop turned into the room and threw up.

“...in.”