Frozen
All 5 guns were trained on her, ready to fire if she moved a hefty inch, two of those guns were a rifle with enough power to rip her head and shoulders to shreds. But not even the threat of death could wipe that glossy smile off her face. It was seductive yet seeking. It asked for more, but only for those that could handle her. And 13 well-trained militia found out the truth. Limb locks, pressure points or simply heavy trauma to their head or spine brought their lives to a halt, and most of the guys she faced were equipped with blades and assaults. Talk about poorly executed.
“If this is about your friends, I do apologise,” she spoke, her voice gentle and accented. “But if you want to kill me, at least be men and pull the trigger. Having all these guns pointed at me does not reinforce your fragile masculinity…guns, seriously.”
“Quiet, lady,” one of them spoke threateningly, pressing the nuzzle of his assault to her temple except instead of a whimper, he received a chuckle in return.
“You want to play it rough? I like to think you’ve done your homework on me, nice-smelling man. Weird how you put us in a room with no windows and an outside lock. Are you under rotation? Am I gonna be in here for long?”
“What the? How do you know that? You can’t even see.”
“The best thing about not being able to see is that I don’t have to. Just smears of blues, oranges, yellows, purples and reds. And if you haven’t noticed, I am blindfolded.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“That’s what you call a threat? That’s adorable. Since we’re here throwing threats around...” The man that held the cold weapon to her temple looked around him as freezing winds gradually swirled around the woman’s seat, the rest of the men realising that it was snowing. Inside the room. Just as one was about to fire, ice crawled up the rifle and shattered in moments and it wasn’t long before everyone else’s firearms did the same. “I can do you one better.”
“How the hell is she doing that?!”
“She’s a Meta...crap!”
“Get her to stop, man!”
“Shame. I’m bored now.” She broke free thanks to the element freezing the restraints keeping her tied to the chair and, with remarkable speed, floored three men in seconds, her movements leaving a wispy trail where the hands were. The other two, who had to take a moment to realise what happened, began to adapt to the situation by transferring their bodies into a fighting stance; feet spaced apart, fists up to shield their face, knees slightly bent. But the woman sighed as she straightened up from resting on one knee, turning around to face her remaining opponents, blindfolded and without the need to place her body in such position.
“Surprising. I thought a blinded hostage would be easy to apprehend…” She dodged a left hook and countered by grabbing the arm that shot out at her and pulled him towards her, her shoulder slamming into the militia’s bulletproof vest with enough force to launch him off his feet and slam into the far wall. “But since this has become a predictable situation, it seems like you’re wasting time rather than making me wait for some man in a mask.” The last man standing went for a low kick but she blocked with her own and spun around, executing a mid kick that forced him back a step, but she wasn’t done yet. The woman launched forward and went for focused hits, every strike sending a shockwave of ice into his vest and when she felt it consume the entire garment, a heavier punch burst the vest to glassy fragments.
“Huh―?!” The militia didn’t have time to blurt out his sentence because she booted him into the nearest wall and, while he was doubled over to recover, axe-kicked the back of his head and heard bones crack on impact with the floor.
“Huh. Man in a mask…” Her hand reached off to whip the blindfold off her face, revealing her cloudy, lilac eyes, before throwing it onto the floor and sauntering to the door. “Batman better not be rescuing me.” Reaching it, she snatched the dark grey half hoodie off a hook and slipped it on before tilting her head at the door in front of her.
“She’s in this room.”
“She took out five guys, they’re all down.”
“Boss says to shoot her on sight.”
“Honestly? This was the best they could do?” The woman snapped her palms and a barrage of ice pierced through the steel door, impaling the figures outside and she smiled hearing them collapse onto the ground. “Now, if I can find who came to kidnap me and beat his ass, I could go back to completing my mark.” Finally regaining her composure, she put a frozen index to the door and traced its shape, pushing it gently when she was finished to have it give way for her. With an approved hum, she stepped on the door, the bodies under it, and quickly scanned her surroundings before blasting into a bolt down the corridor.
She’s been here before, an abandoned 4-star hotel after the owner lost touch with the business with profits plummeting into the darkened abyss. One hell of a place to train, though, especially the grand hall where the guests would meet up for...something. She didn’t know, she wasn’t familiar with the arts of a 4-star hotel.
The grand hall. Just had to take a left and…she almost stopped when two militia that stood watch had a gun pointed at her, but when she cover-rolled, during the motion, she cast a sheet of ice over the worn-out carpet and giggled at the pathetic sight of the two trying to gain their footing on the ice.
“Here,” the woman spoke to herself as she dove through the top window to the grand hall, moving into a swift side flip to daintily land on her feet and let out a sharp but relaxed exhale. She decided it was time to flick her hair out of her hoodie with a sassy hand, which was an unusual colour like her eyes, but couldn’t help but let a softer, more flirtatious smile creep onto her freckled face. Definitely not Batman, that’s for sure. “Well, hello, my Arkham-wearing saint of some sort. Who wields awesome guns and has the body of...a god.”
Whoever stood several tens of metres in front of her donned a futuristic version of what the rest of the militia wore in this place. Accents of red streaking his camo-printed clothing and a sagging utility belt, with a streamlined, bat-eared helmet that blurred out his identity, and a chest plate that resembled the Arkham symbol. His gun didn’t waver as he stepped forward once, his steps almost soundless. She glared at his feet for a brief moment; he was being careful, light-footed. The militia wasn’t even close. This must be their leader. Only problem was that brief moment ended up with him pulling the trigger.
And in that brief moment, the bullet froze before it reached her, bouncing off her chest before clattering to the ground encased in tinted ice.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he spoke firmly, the helmet tuning his voice with a demonic hum.
She flipped up her palms, “Remember you just tried to kill me.”
“I know who you are. Might not be on the database, but you’re there…Alias.”
“Still not dropping the fact you tried to kill me, but at least someone knows who I am. Your men really love throwing around ‘lady’ and ‘woman’ and don’t even have the decency to ask for my name. If it’s of any consolation, I do have one.”
“You’re not from here and that makes you a ghost and a good one at that. Your manipulation in ice and infrared perception allows you to have control of any situation. Like this one. I bet you’re memorising my body heat, how much I’m exerting.”
“I am and it’s higher than most: 37.28 degrees Celsius. But you.” Alias began to stroll up to him carefully, watching his trigger finger tighten slightly but didn’t attempt to stop. “You’re intriguing. I know the evils that lurk in Gotham City but you’re different. You went out of your way in capturing me so you can at least humour me, right? Tell me,” She stopped when the nuzzle was at her forehead. “Who are you?”
“They call me the Arkham Knight.”
She chuckled, “Cute name…but I’ve heard that every villain here’s launching a mass attack against Batman, with Scarecrow leading the charge, am I correct?”
“You’re not mistaken.”
“Then I want in. Like everyone else, I have a thing against him, and I want to make sure...the last time I see him is on his deathbed.”
“Didn’t pin you for the grudge-holding type.”
“Says the Knight emulating Batman’s appearance but I guess we all got surprises.”
“How did―”
“The ears, for a start. The fact you have bat ears and wielding guns is making Batman wonder...who did I have to break to cause such a scar? Who did I leave behind that he’s forgetting his sense of morality?”
“You don’t know me.”
“No I don’t, but if I manage to persuade Scarecrow I’ll know more than you.” Her palm encircled the barrel of the gun as she leaned in close to where his ear would be. “So promise we’ll meet again. Everyone else is boring.” And just like that, Alias let go of his gun and turned around before silently walking off and flicking her hair once again. And that was when he watched her use her power, her hands surrounded by an icy mist as a glacier shot her into the air, the Meta Mercenary vanishing through the cracked window a second later and the Arkham Knight put his iron sight down.
“That, was Alias?” Someone had asked him through his mask, the Knight sliding his pistol into the empty holster.
“I thought they were rumours but...”
“She proves to be a valuable ally.”
“And a pain in my ass.”
“We must be prepared to adapt to changing situations, Knight. We shall see what she is planning to do, but for now, keep an eye on her.”
“Understood.”
