I negated gravity and jumped.
Just a soft hop—barely even a push-off—and the world dropped away beneath me. Nine stories of building blurred past in a second, the wind parting around me like water. My feet touched the rooftop gravel with a gentle *click*, and I was there.
Diana was standing at the edge of the roof, peering over the side with a look of pure anxiety on her face. Her auburn hair was a soaked mess, her torn blouse was clinging to her tits like a second skin, and her pencil skirt was hiked up so high that I could see the entirety of her black lace thong.
She looked up when she heard me land.
"You!"
"Me."
"Where the hell did you go?! You said you'd be right back! I've been standing here for—"
"I was gone for like ten minutes."
"TEN MINUTES?! I was alone! On a rooftop! In the Flats! For ten minutes! In the rain!" She threw her hands up, her chest heaving with indignation. "I thought you died! I thought I was going to have to jump off this building or wait until morning or—"
"I didn't die. See? Alive."
"You—ugh!" She pressed her palm against her forehead, taking a deep breath. "I cannot believe this. I cannot believe I'm standing on a rooftop in the middle of the night with a teenager who thinks it's perfectly fine to just leave people stranded."
"In my defense, you were safer here than anywhere else in this neighborhood."
"That doesn't make it okay!"
"Fair enough." I smiled at her. A sheepish, embarrassed smile that I hoped conveyed at least a small amount of genuine remorse.
She stared at me for a long moment, her jaw clenched. Then she let out a long, slow exhale.
"...Just get me down from here. Please."
"Alright. Come here."
I walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. She stiffened at the contact, her body going rigid.
"What are you—"
"Trust me."
She looked at me. Then at the edge of the building. Then back at me.
"...If you drop me, I will haunt you forever."
"Noted."
I negated gravity on both of us and stepped off the edge. She let out a startled yelp, her fingers digging into my arm hard enough to leave marks. We descended slowly—gently—like an elevator with no cables. The rain-slicked wall slid past us, and I could see the glow of streetlights below getting closer.
Her grip on my arm was borderline painful. But to her credit, she didn't scream this time.
Our feet touched the ground with a soft splash, landing in a puddle that soaked her already-ruined shoes.
She let go of me immediately, stepping back and smoothing down her skirt—which was a lost cause at this point.
"...Okay. We're down. Now what?"
"Now we go back to the alley and get your stuff."
"The alley? With the—"
"The thugs are taken care of. By the vigilante."
"The immortal one?"
"Yeah. He handled it."
She looked at me suspiciously. "How do you know?"
"I was in the area."
"You were 'in the area' when you left me on the roof?"
"I was curious."
"Curiosity is going to get you killed one day."
"Probably."
We walked back toward the alley in silence. The streets were empty—no cars, no pedestrians, nothing. Just the sound of our footsteps and the distant drip-drip-drip of rainwater draining off awnings and fire escapes.
Diana was limping slightly. Her heels—designer ones, from the look of them—had been destroyed during her abduction, and she was walking barefoot on the wet pavement. I didn't offer to carry her. That felt like it would cross some kind of line. Find the original chapter at novelping.com.
We reached the alley.
"Okay, your bag should be somewhere around—" I started.
Then Diana looked past me and saw the bodies.
"OH MY GOD—!"
She screamed. A full-throated, horrified scream that echoed off the alley walls. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes going impossibly wide.
The thugs were... still there. All seven of them, scattered across the alley in various states of destruction. The rain had washed some of the blood away, but the bodies themselves were still very much intact. The whole scene was very much messy.
The one who'd landed on the dumpster was still draped over it, his spine bent at that impossible ninety-degree angle. The one whose head had exploded was just a red smear with a torso attached. The one who'd been impaled on rebar was still twitching slightly—post-mortem spasms, probably.
"WHAT—HOW—THEY'RE—"
"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck. "I was surprised too."
"SURPRISED?! They're dead! They're all dead! That one doesn't even have a head! And that one is—" She gagged, turning away. "Oh god, I'm going to be sick."
"That must've been the vigilante's doing."
"THE VIGILANTE DID THIS?!"
"He said he didn't have a no-kill rule."
"HE—what kind of vigilante doesn't have a—oh god, there's brains on the wall. Is that—I think I'm going to—"
She dry-heaved, bending over with her hands on her knees. Nothing came up—she probably hadn't eaten in a while—but the sound was nasty.
I stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to finish.
"...You okay?"
"DO I LOOK OKAY?!"
"Not really."
"Your bag." I pointed. "There it is."
Her purse was lying behind the dumpster, half-submerged in a puddle. It was a designer bag, probably worth more than my entire wardrobe... and it looked mostly intact.
She stared at it, then at the bodies, then at me. Then she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked—very carefully, very deliberately, stepping over a severed hand—to the bag. She grabbed it, wiped it on her skirt, and clutched it to her chest like a lifeline.
"Okay. Okay. I have my bag. I have my phone—" She pulled out a phone, cracked but functional. "—I need to get out of here. I need to get *far* from here."
She looked at me, her green eyes wide and desperate.
"Can you... can you walk with me? Just until we're out of this neighborhood? I don't... I don't want to be alone right now."
I hesitated.
It was late. The Gen 1s were running out of time. I needed to figure out what to do with them. And I really didn't want to spend any more time playing bodyguard for a woman who'd called me a creepy vampire.
But she was shaking. Rather than from the cold, it was from fear. Real, genuine fear. The kind that made your bones ache and your stomach twist.
"...Fine."
"Thank you." The relief in her voice was almost physical. "Thank you, Noel."
◇◇◇
We walked.
Out of the alley, down the street, through the rain-soaked Flats. Diana was barefoot, wincing every time she stepped on something sharp, but she didn't complain. She just walked, her bag clutched to her chest, her eyes darting at every shadow.
I walked beside her, hands in my hoodie pockets, scanning the streets with my system eyes. Everything was clear, no more thugs, no more villains, no more immortal edgy warriors of justice.
After about ten minutes of walking, the neighborhood changed. The broken streetlights and graffiti-covered walls gave way to functioning infrastructure. The buildings got taller, the streets got cleaner, the rain puddles got shallower. We'd crossed from the Flats into Midtown.
Diana let out a breath she'd been holding for what felt like the entire walk.
"Okay." She stopped, turning to face me. "Okay. I think... I think I'm safe here."
"Thank you." She looked at me, and her expression had changed. The fear was still there—lurking beneath the surface—but it had been replaced by something else. Gratitude. Real, genuine gratitude. The kind that made people's eyes go soft and their voices go quiet.
"I mean it, Noel. Thank you. You saved my life tonight. If you hadn't been there..." She trailed off, swallowing hard.
"Don't mention it."
"No, I need to—"
"Seriously. Don't mention it. To anyone. Ever."
She blinked. "...Why?"
"Because I said so."
She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head. "You're a very strange young man."
"I've been told."
She laughed, a real laugh this time, short and breathy. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out... a wad of cash.
A *thick* wad. She peeled off several bills—hundred-dollar bills, from the looks of it—and held them out to me.
I stared at the money.
"I—what?"
"Take it," she said. "Please. It's the least I can do."
I looked at the bills in her hand. My brain did some quick math. Ten bills. Hundred each. That was...
A thousand dollars.
A thousand dollars.
My brain short-circuited for a moment. A thousand dollars was... that was two months of food. That was a new phone. That was new clothes. That was *breathing room* in a way I hadn't experienced in years.
"I hope this is enough," she said, her voice soft. "I don't... I don't know how to properly thank someone for saving my life. But this is what I have on me, and I want you to have it."
A better person would've refused. A hero... the kind on the billboards, the kind with the licenses and the agencies and the action figures... would've smiled and said "I don't do this for money" and walked away with their cape billowing in the wind.
But I wasn't a hero.
And I really, *really* needed the money.
"Thank you," I said, taking the bills and stuffing them into my hoodie pocket. "This is... this helps a lot."
"Good." She smiled. "Take care of yourself, Noel. And maybe... stay out of dangerous alleys at 1 AM?"
"No promises."
She laughed again, shaking her head. Then she turned and walked away, her bare feet slapping against the wet pavement. I watched her go until she disappeared around a corner, her auburn hair the last thing I saw.
I stood there for a moment, my hand in my pocket, feeling the crisp edges of the bills.
"...A thousand dollars."
I grinned.
"Fuck yes."
I turned around and started walking. Then jogging. Then running. The city blurred past me as I picked up speed, my feet splashing through puddles, the wind whipping through my hair.
Then I negated gravity on myself and jumped.
*WHOOSH.*
The ground fell away beneath me. I rocketed upward, clearing buildings, soaring over streets, the city spreading out below me like a glowing map. The air was cold and clean, and for a moment, I just... hung there. Suspended between the earth and the sky, weightless, free.
I landed on a rooftop—a high one, maybe fifteen stories—and stood there at the edge, looking out over the city.
The rain had stopped. The clouds were breaking apart, and through the gaps, I could see stars. Actual stars, which was rare in a city this big.
I pulled out the wad of cash and counted it again.
Ten hundred-dollar bills. A thousand dollars.
I smiled.
"Best night of my fucking life."