[center] [hr][hr] [img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/45/4a/fb/454afb4d0581b0baadfa33e02d71f9aa.jpg[/img][/center] [right][h2][color=7ea7d8]Brenda and Paco star in...The Runaway: Issue #9[/color][/h2][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4732837]Previous Issue[/url][/right] [hr][hr] [b]Washington, D.C[/b] "What the hell was that thing?" Brenda exhaled, slowly lowering the firearm from her aching shoulder. Try as she might, she couldn't force her hands to stop shaking- whether that could be attributed to her aching head wound or that anxious knot in her stomach, she wasn't quite sure. It had come out of nowhere. One second she was listening to the radio, and the next they were crashing into a tree that shouldn't have been there. Then that...that [i]thing[/i] dragged her out of her window. It had kicked her, clawed at her and dragged her across the pavement. She tried to fight it, but it wasn't worth the energy; it could've killed her at any point during their struggle. So why didn't it? Still on the floor and reeling from his recent beatdown, Paco was staring up at her with eyes as wide as saucers. It looked like he was trying to say something, but for all the flapping his lower jaw was doing, no words were coming out. Only whispered mewling and gasps. Brenda didn't know if she wanted to punch him or hug him. She settled on bending down and placing a small hand on his comparatively gargantuan shoulder. "I'm gonna need you to pull yourself together, Pac." Her words were delivered with a forced, unnatural softness. It took a deal of willpower for her to swallow her anger. "We need to find out why that thing attacked us and where it went. It must have something to do with what's happening to Jaime..." She couldn't imagine why it would target the two of them otherwise. A metahuman attack was rarer than a plane crash; or so the [i]Daily Planet[/i] said. "But I...I can't do that on my own, Pac. So...come on. Get up." Despite the flimsy layer of kindness and understanding his friend tried to speak with, Paco felt nothing but shame. He could see the smothered fury behind her eyes, and it only made the twisting knife of guilt feel ever sharper in his chest. Turning away, his gaze was cast over the destruction they'd brought to that poor old man's house by dragging the monster there. Thankfully he was unharmed- they all were- but it could have gone so, so much worse, and Paco would have no one to blame for that but himself. "Alright." He muttered, pushing against the floor to bring himself back up to his full, towering height. He still felt small standing alongside Brenda, though it wasn't a physical smallness. "I'll help." "Good." Brenda nodded, punching his shoulder before taking her gun back up in her hands. It's weight was worse than she remembered- it'd been a long time since she was allowed to fire a shotgun. "Put that big brain of yours to work." She took a step away, her gaze remaining on the big guy expectantly. He was her best bet at figuring all of this out. The wheels were already turning within his mind as he traced his eyes over where the 'fight' had happened, following it from memory as best he could. Paco spun around, pointing down to the floor where he'd fallen. "It could've killed me here," his finger shifted a few feet to the right, "or right there. I was on the ground twice, defenseless. But it didn't." Why? Was it toying with him? That display on it's way down the stairs certainly made it seem so. That, and the weird...playback of his voice. It had said something on the stairs, too; something Paco hadn't. But he didn't manage to catch it. "Yeah, yeah...Me too." Brenda nodded. "You think it wanted to, I dunno, kidnap us? Like they did Jaime?" Paco stopped. He looked over at her, his brow furrowed in concentration, his earlier fears forgotten as he cycled through the events and every possible reasoning for the attack that he could come up with. "Maybe." He whispered. Suddenly he jerked forward, making for the door at a rapid sprint. Brenda had to scramble after him to keep up. They stepped outside of the house, Paco already part way through the backyard. He pointed at the pulsating gash in reality. "There!" He shouted, climbing up over the fence to continue toward it. An uprooted tree was sticking part way through the wound, their van twisted around it's trunk from where the two had crashed into one another. "It came through this, but it's still here." Paco stopped in front of it, spinning about to face Brenda. "But why?" An audible pop like a needle through a blister sounded mere inches behind Brenda. [b][color=8882be]˙dɹɐM 'ǝɯ oʇ ʞɔɐq uǝɹplıɥɔ ǝɥʇ ɓuıɹᙠ"[/color][/b] The voice of another filtered through it's crooked mouth, broken and unintelligible. Paco shouted out her name in warning, but it was too late- That thing had already reached around and wrapped one of it's clawed fists around the shotgun. She fought against it's ironclad grip, pushing, pulling and shoving with all of her strength in an attempt to force the gun out of it's hand, but to no avail."No, no- damn it!" Brenda roared, throwing repeated elbows back into the monster's ribs. It let out a cackled, reversed laugh before slipping it's other hand behind Brenda's collar. It lifted her up with relative ease, tossing her into Paco's chest with enough force to make him stumble right back into the tear in the world. Paco let out a scream as his vision was consumed by a bleeding sky, and he started to fall. [center] ... And he fell. ... And fell. ... And fell... [img]https://em.wattpad.com/318629b27a5b1f9410cd6b355cae566cf6485a94/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f704c63646942533955666f6f30413d3d2d3335363034353538332e313439386538663737343737326635343535393937333737383430382e6a7067?s=fit&w=720&h=720[/img] [b][i]Bzzt[/i][/b] Not responding. Please wait. Not responding. Please wait. Rebooting now... [img]https://i.imgur.com/gAM7jlb.png[/img] There was nothing but [color=black][b]𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘.[/b][/color] What is life except an endless, throbbing [b]mɒɘɿɔꙅ?[/b] A [b]ņ̴̯͕̜̟͉̪͙͓̣͉̯̠̔̅̕ỉ̴̲͔͋̐͑́͂̾̿͐͂̍͘g̵͚̊̀h̵̢͚͈̤̫͓̬͔̜͖̼͎̼̎̔̈́̽͋̽̌t̵͇̦͚̝̏͌̏͆̑͗̂̽̐̚͘͝͝m̶̨̡̳͕̞͓̳̱͖̤̭̜͎̰̆́́ą̸̧̱̹͖̬͙̼̜̦̀̎͑͗͆̓̕͠͝r̴̨̘̱̱̯͔͙͍̝̙͇̩̍͐̌͂́́̾́͐̄̽͘͠͠e̷̙͋͑̀ of[/b] your own making? We are it's [b]ɘɿuɔ.[/b] §êê ¥ðµ §ððñ~ [/center]