The hunt for an “S-rank Villain” was relentless. For many days and nights, she avoided heroes, villains, and everything in between. They wanted her, they mistook her for the true Feral, but she was not but a defective clone of the legendary S-rank.
All she could do was run away and pray for her own survival. A moment of respite was given to her, as she finally lost some of her newer pursuers.
She rested against some trashcans. She was battered, and beaten up and her body endured far too much abuse. She has been in the run for days now.
She was a clone of a S-rank villain. Even if she was lankier, skinnier, and her skin tone a little more sickly than the original, the resemblance was more than enough to put a bounty on her head, even her underdeveloped brain knew that.
She had to endure and fight through many brawls and blockades, and they only grew fiercer the more she resisted. She was so tired.
'Feral' wanted to sleep. She wanted to just eat some food, and not scavenge the trash for food, or fight for it. She broke a tooth too.
She held her face up. Why couldn’t she be like the other clones? Why did she step out when the others took it head-on?
Was the desire for survival that strong, or was she a mere coward? Was there a satisfying answer somewhere?
She looked at the setting sun. It was so vast, so magnificent. If only one day wings sprouted out of her back, and she was allowed to fly away. To where could someone like her go? She didn’t know.
Was the desire to fly away so shallow? No, it wasn’t. For someone who only knew carnage and battle, and somehow stepped out of it, the dream of flying was not shallow.
‘I could’ve easily snapped their neck. Why didn’t I…’ Killing was easy, so easy. It was almost second nature, then why did 'Feral' second guess herself? She was sure the other clones, and the original, would fare so much better.
They would’ve made a massacre. Her nature was defective, even if one caught that fact, aside from that strange monstrous girl, she knew she was a “failure”.
She smelled the dung smell coming out from the trash can. It made her nose itchy, and her battered body ache with pain.
'Feral' was tired of running. She was tired of everything. She raised one of her claws and placed it on her neck. Maybe it was time to die with dignity, and stop her own breath…
“Wow. What a pamonha’s face.” A shadow loomed over her.
'Feral' blinked. “Wow. Get that thing out of your neck, girl. It is going to hurt you.” She took her by the hand and rose her up.
'Feral' hissed, and jumped back, forgetting she was against trash cans. She felt her back hit the metal, and a shockwave of pain spread from her back, to the rest of her body. “Don’t worry, Pamonha. I’m not here to hurt you. Who put you through the wringer?”
'Feral' attacked with a hiss, but the woman blocked the attack with her arm, and her flesh erupted into red tungsten. Her claws stopped by her metallic constitution. “Wow, nice attack.”
Her whole arms, neck, and shoulders became tungsten, as the woman enveloped 'Feral' in a hug, and then immobilized her arms behind her back.
She didn’t place too much intent on her movements, just enough to stop her movements without hurting 'Feral' too much. “Calm there, girl.” Her arms became soft, and yet firm, and became a makeshift blindfold.
'Feral' got agitated, but a soothing voice came from behind her. “Calm down, girly. I mean you no harm. I will drop ya, and ya is going to tell me who hurt you. I kind of like your face, pamonha.”
Her heartbeat started to calm down, somehow this blindfold and soothing voice were working on her, but she failed to detect any ill intent from the one who held her down. “Now, play nice, girly.”
As she promised, the Feral clone was dropped. The blindfold vanished, as the woman’s arms returned to being made of flesh. A few drops of sweat ran down her face.
The Feral Clone turned around. “See, I didn’t lie. Girl, who hurt you that way? You look like trash.” While the Feral clone could understand words, speaking was another matter entirely.
She looked down ashamed. “Well, if you don’t feel like telling me, then I won’t press it any further. My name is…” The woman looked at conflict for a moment. “I’m nobody. I’m not important. You, do you have a name?”
The Feral Clone shook her head. Now that she had a better view of the woman, she was smaller than she anticipated. “Well, your name is Pamonha now. Because your face gives me lazy vibes.”
Nobody left out a hearty laugh. She didn’t feel any ill or second intent behind the woman’s words and actions. Who in the world was she?
Before she could think further, Nobody walked out of the alley. Feral stared at her back. The woman’s clothes looked new, and she was clean too. The woman turned around with a smile.
“If ya are going to look at me like a stray puppy, you should follow me as well. Don’t be there with your tail down and depressed. If it is going to make you happy, then follow me.”
The woman’s laughter got louder as the distance between them increased.
For some reason, Pamonha followed after the one who gave her a name.
(...)
Hours have passed. Pamonha had her hair dyed white with some spray paint, Nobody also gave her some heavy clothing to hide her appearance. “We are going to a nasty place, even I heard of it. So stay close to me, stray puppy.”
She was still lost why Nobody adopted her, why her of all people. She knew the woman just took her into her trailer. That was textbook adoption, and it made no sense.
They stopped before a place. It was dark, and filthy, and many people were in the building. “Who are you? You don’t look like a regular.” A beefy man spoke to Nobody. He was dressed like a bouncer.
She smiled. “I’m not yet a regular, but I plan on becoming one of Monstrous Corpora’s usual faces. I want to do business, and I find no better place than here.” The Beefy Man grimaced.
“Hmph. Prove you have what it takes, girl. Before we decide to deal with you as we deal with intruders.” Nobody smiled and placed her feet over the man’s.
In a second her clothes exploded, and her form became that of solid tungsten, her weight multiplied manyfold as the man felt her feet almost crush his.
He saw confiction in her bland eyes, and that she was not unlike the other regulars. He smiled through the pain, her form certainly in line witht he dance club’s name.
Her form was more in line with a demon now. “I want to become a regular, and don’t want trouble with the other regulars. Sorry about your foot.” She took her feet out of his, and the man nodded, hiding a grimace of pain.
“No problem. Many types try to come into this place, good to see we can still get our intended audience despite the rough times.” The beefy man walked out of the way.
“Is she with you?” He questioned, his gaze suddenly became severe, it sent a shudder down Pamonha’s spine.
“Yes, she is my protegee.” With just a word, his gaze softened, and soon Pamonha was allowed entrance.
She tapped the woman on the shoulder, suddenly cold like metal. She wnated to know why they were there. “Finding comrades. I have a nice thing in my mind. We are going to need help.”
The now “demonic” Nobody looked around. She didn’t needed to look far. SHe found an albino girl, bored out of her mind, in a place far away from others. She recognized the girl immediately, and walked towards her.
She slammed her palm on the table, startling the girl. “You. I have a big heist in mind, and I need a villain with your abilities. We are going to be shown everywhere.”
Nobody recognized Fluegel, a villain tagged as a small disaster by the Interpol. Meanwhile, Pamonha was left bewildered. She didn’t understand what Nobody was doing.
In the end, she was no longer a Stray.