Intro
Her foot hit the edge. Her breath caught.
No more rooftop.
She was stuck between one step away from falling to her agonizing death from a ten stories high building and the creeping shadows that would soon swallow her whole.
The way he stopped — calm, composed, utterly patient — told her everything. She had nowhere left to go. And he was right, to her dismay.
He broke the silence first, his gaze having shifted to the crimson-feathered wings on her back.
“You’d think that having those, you’d have used them by now.”
She gritted her teeth, her fists slowly being enveloped by sparks turning into flames. He was always doing this, pissing her off, pointing out all her flaws and weaknesses in a constant attempt to remind her she’s weaker than him.
Her wings weren’t just for show. They worked — just not when she needed them to. The Guardians Association had tried to help her, but since no one else had wings, it was like chickens trying to teach a pigeon how to fly.
Too bad this wasn’t the enemies’ concern.
She launched at him, fist burning with heat as she aimed for his face.
He caught her wrist just before connecting, pulling her towards him.
Shit.
He punched her in the stomach.
Her already bruised body slid backwards on concrete, close to the very edge of the roof.
But it was just another scrape, right?
She pushed through it like a veteran — in getting her ass handed — and hurried to pick herself up despite the grimace on her face giving away the pain that bloomed in her body, aware that he wasn’t going to give her a breather.
She caught his hand mid-motion as he seemed to have wanted to grab her, but he only used the opportunity to push her backwards, closer to the edge.
Before she knew it, instead of stopping him from grabbing her collar, she was desperately grabbing on his arm to avoid falling.
And he saw it.
He saw the panic on her face.
Her grip almost slipped, and he caught her wrist, her body dangling over the edge of the roof.
She looked down — and saw nothing.
No street. No pavement. Just endless black. Her breath caught in her throat, heart hammering.
She looked back up at him, sheer horror twisting her features. She knew what he was doing. He was forcing her brain to make up the worst possible ending. And it was working.
And then, she did something she wouldn’t usually do.
She pleaded for mercy.
She shook her head first, her eyes begging for him not to drop her.
His grip didn’t change. His face was unreadable. No amusement, no malice. Just the quiet, distant look of a man weighing his options.
“Please—” A breathless whisper.
A short moment of relief as he lifted her and then —
He dropped her.
Her heart jumped out of her chest, the very moment nothing else stopped her from her fall.
She braced for the impact, for the most excruciating pain in her life and the end of everything.
She didn’t hit the pavement.
She hit metal. Hard.
The rusted fire escape groaned beneath her weight, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. She gasped, vision swimming, pain flaring up every inch of her body. For a long, aching second, she couldn’t move.
Great. Another hospital visit. Might as well get a membership card.
But she was still alive, still breathing.
Her eyes trailed up to the edge of the rooftop, where he stood, watching her for a few moments.
He probably was enjoying the sight of her turned into shambles. That bastard.
And then he left, without a word.
She coughed, almost choking on the blood in her mouth.
Just in time to hear the static of her communication device.
“Cal’. We’ve wrapped up here, we managed to get a hold of the artifact. Is everything alright on your end? You suddenly disappeared.”
She groaned, one hand gingerly moving to her face and brushing the hair away from her eyes.
What was she to say? That she once again got herself beaten and let the enemy escape? Or worse, that the enemy actually barely let her escape without losing her life. AGAIN.
“Calista! Answer me! Are you alright?”
“I’ll check on her, Rhea, I saw her heading to the rooftoop at some point—”
Calista grimaced. Another failure from her part.
“I’m alright.” she answered abruptly, and then a long moment of silence.
“Where are you? I can’t see you.” Nyx’s voice came over from her comm.
But before she could answer, the familiar figure was at the edge of the rooftop, looking down at her.
“Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have let you handle him! Rhea, call the HQ and tell them to send a medical team.”
Calista looked up at the sky, no longer hearing the voices around her as she realized she’s been so close to death. This one experience would give her some nightmares for sure for the following weeks. But what nagged her at the same time was the fact that he deliberately let her live.
Was he messing with her?
Was there some greater scheme behind this?
Was this just some sort of weird obsession on his part?
She exhaled, deeply.
Her life was getting more and more complicated ever since she had become what Hollywood would call a superheroine.
But it hadn’t always been like this.
Once upon a time she was just Mia Maddox — broke college student, running on caffeine and stress, struggling to pass exams and tragically failing at getting a job.
That was before she became Calista.
Before she learned that being a hero wasn’t like in the comics or tv shows.
It wasn’t about saving the day.
It was about survival.
