EIGHTEEN
THE BOY WAS DEAD, BUT THE GIRL WASN'T.
And now the young man was trying to destroy Alexia's
home, and it wasn't a game or an experiment or something
to observe, he had to die, in pain and misery. How
had he dared to consider such a thing? He should be on
his knees in front of her, a worthless supplicant for her
to do with as she wished, how dare he?
Alexia saw the siblings walking away from their
treacherous deed, felt them wishing to leave as the automated
sequence began, lights and sounds flashing, systems
shutting down throughout the terminal. Their
perfidy was useless, of course. She would be able to
stop the destruct sequence with a minimum of effort,
using her control over the organic to sever every connection
in the facility, but it was the thought behind the
act that so infuriated her. He had witnessed the glory of
her capabilities, he had seen it and fled in terror ... and
yet he could fancy himself worthy to take a life such as
hers?
Alexia gathered herself, drawing all of her power in,
becoming complete. She knew that the young man had
picked up a weapon that had been sitting next to the
keyboard, a revolver that someone had left behind. She
didn't object, knowing that the firearm would give him
hope, and that for a victory to be complete, the victor
had to take everything. She would take his hope, she
would take his sister's life and then she would take his.
When she was whole, she imagined herself becoming
liquid, traveling through the structure of her surroundings
as easily as the organic extensions she controlled, and
then she was doing so, moving to confront the interlopers.
They were startled, as if they'd expected to succeed.
She slid out from inside her organic carrier, unfolding
herself, turning to look into their dull eyes, their wincing
sheep's faces. She watched them watch her, curious
in spite of her anger.
They argued in front of her, he insisting that he would
"handle" things, that the girl should flee. The girl accepted,
but reluctantly, insisting in turn that he should
survive. Following that ludicrous statement, the girl
turned and ran for the elevator.
Alexia moved to intercept, raising her hand to smite
the girl...
... and a perforation opened in her flesh, distracting
her. A bullet had entered her body. She turned and
smiled at him, at the gun in his hand, and reached into
herself, pulling the bullet out and tossing it toward him.
As gratifying as his expression was, the girl was gone
by the time she turned back.
It was time to expand her boundaries, Alexia decided.
To show him what she was, what she could do ... and
to put the fear of God into him, because as she closed
her eyes, imagining, wishing, she stopped being Alexia
Ashford and became Wrath, divine and merciless.
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