Moments After The Bobs Replace The Nine

The Simurgh

A stone hurtles out of the darkness.

Unaccounted for, it strikes the board. Individuals are redirected. Plans are disrupted. Arranged decisions, timing, and dialogue exchanges are thrown off course. Without any warning, years of preparations and manipulations are put in jeopardy.

The Simurgh double checks. No. She was not in error. The predictions remain changed. High above the Pacific Ocean, a tool pretending to be an angel hangs in the sky, and sees her schemes fall apart.

A new player has entered the game.

She does not feel annoyance towards this unexpected obstacle. She does not feel anything at all.

Instead, she recalculates. The table has been disrupted. Not every ball will fall into its pocket anymore.

Searching, she finds the source of the disruption. Eight individuals are acting outside the realm of predicted behavior, and acting on knowledge they shouldn’t possess. The Slaughterhouse Nine’s psychological trajectory would have to be reevaluated.

The Simurgh’s priorities shift. She tries to understand how this knowledge was given to them. A conversation is eavesdropped on. Worm. Ward. A series of fiction novels? Winged_One searches for it. Standard definitions of the words are found, but no novels are associated with them. Interesting.

The board has been shaken, but the Primary Objective remains the same: Challenge Me.

Scans are redone. Possibilities are reconfirmed. Precognition of the Slaughterhouse Nine continues unimpeded, indicating an early course change towards Brockton Bay. Targets are identified. The Slaughterhouse Nine is no longer an unknown variable. Her plans are still threatened. The Simurgh could act.

She doesn’t trust it. The Slaughterhouse Nine were believed to be accounted for before. That judgment was incorrect. Another stone could tip the balance at an unanticipated time.

The future is no longer as certain, but some possibilities can be emphasized over others. This is not the first blindspot the Simurgh has encountered, merely the most elusive. A shotgun approach will be required. Possible vectors are limited. She is being watched, and expected to act within specific parameters.

The watchers will act as a vector. It wouldn't be the first time. She passingly identifies that others in her position would be amused by the irony. Amusement was irrelevant. The Primary Objective will be completed.

The Simurgh let go of her flight. She plummeted out of the sky, wings and limbs limp, eyes closed. Exactly eight seconds later, she caught herself, rose back to her previous altitude, and continued on her way.

—

Dinah

“When the small ones call out, near or far, I shall come no matter rain or car! Dust, wind, cats or birds, none shall stop a rodent’s words. With her sword in hand and her danger detector, evil beware of the Mouse Pro-” Click.

Dinah curled up on the living room couch, Mr. Stripe cuddled tight against her chest. Without looking, she tossed the remote in the direction of the coffee table. It missed, landing with a soft thud on the carpet, but she couldn’t bring herself to care and left it there. Her eyes were focused on the blank television. Her mind barely registered it. She wiped away her tears and took a deep, shuddering breath.

Tonight was the night.

She hated it, or at least she thought she did. She’d been mad before, like that time when she was grounded for saying a swear word in front of Mom, or when Mrs. Higgins assigned three sheets of Pythagorean theorem homework even though she knew how to do it, or when Carla started eating the birthday cake before she got to have the first bite, and other stuff she forgot soon after it happened. She’d said she’d hated those things too, but she knew that was wrong now. None of that had ever made her feel this tightness in her chest and shoulders. None of that had made her want to scream and punch the wall as hard as she could. None of that made her sob into her pillow at night, looking for any other way, anything else she could do.

There wasn’t one. Mouse Protector wouldn’t save her this time.

It wasn’t like there weren't any other options, but all of them were so much worse that taking them was stupid and would just lead to the same thing anyway. Dinah kidnapped. As usual. It didn’t matter what she did.

Calling the PRT didn’t even come close most of the time. Mannequin could beat Armsmaster under most circumstances, Burnscar would easily burn down the building Miss Militia was hiding in even if she was warned, Battery and Assault would be crippled by Jack Slash no matter how fast they ran, and the rest couldn’t stop the Siberian from grabbing her and running off. The location didn’t make a difference either. They always found it.

Brockton’s heroes were good. They had to be in this city. But the Slaughterhouse Nine were, as Mouse Protector would put it, the biggest of cheeses. Every question she asked in hopes they could protect her always ended the same way. The closest they could get was one weird interaction where Clockblocker killed the Siberian by touching her somehow, but she just reappeared over and over until Clockblocker made a mistake and kidnapped her anyway.

If Dinah really pushed it (said something about a cauldron or something, she didn’t know why that worked), the Triumvirate would show up. And, well…

Apparently Jack didn’t need knives to use his power, just anything sharp. The Siberian's claws were really sharp. Sharp enough to cut Alexandria.

New Wave couldn’t help either. A third of the time Brandish answered and didn’t believe her at all, the jerk. If Dinah managed to talk to Lady Photon or Glory Girl, they could be convinced, but the Nine cut through them like a hot knife through butter and got her and Panacea. Sometimes Glory Girl tried to attack again anyway by herself, broke her arms, and Bonesaw sprayed a gas into her mouth. Dinah figured it was probably poison or something else just as bad.

The third option was worse than surrendering. The snake guy would have someone with round glasses drug her and… Dinah didn’t like looking at those timelines. The Siberian killed the snake guy in those though, so she considered it. If she was going to be taken anyway, why not beat a supervillain along the way? But she’d likely get drugged first, and the futures that continued after being injected were filled with pain and hunger and sickness and this aching feeling in her head that she couldn’t shake free and…

Dinah pulled free of the mosaic and resisted the urge to throw up again. She had to be more careful about doing that. It was too easy to get lost in the glimpses of the futures her power showed her, like a thousand eager kindergarteners shoving their art projects in her face and asking if their drawings looked cool.

It didn’t matter. The Nine were too strong to fight, and she couldn’t run. Anywhere she went, they found her. Sometimes it took hours. Hiding always led to the Siberian breaking through the wall of whatever building she was in, no matter if it was in the Docks, Trainyard, Boardwalk, Boat Graveyard, school, or anywhere else she could think of. There was one timeline, where she convinced her parents to drive to Florida to visit her grandparents, that lasted almost a week. Then a woman in a fedora stepped out of a portal and her sight went dark.

So that was it then. Dinah laughed a little, shaking the couch cushions slightly. Her power let her see all the options, like a choose your own adventure story. Except this story always ended up the same way. There was nothing she could do about it.

Dinah glanced at the digital clock next to the TV. It read 8:07 pm. The Amazing Adventures of Mouse Protector usually came on at eight, so Mom had decided Dinah’s bedtime would be at nine. That way she would have about thirty minutes to get ready for bed once the episode finished.

She’d never thought about it before, but that was really nice of her Mom, wasn’t it? And now… Dinah felt tears begin to build up again. Now she wouldn’t be able to see her again, would she?

Dinah felt her power stir, and she hastily pushed it down before it could answer. The question didn’t matter. Not right now anyway. She couldn’t afford to waste her power when she knew she’d be in danger soon.

Not as much danger as she should be in though. For some reason, the Nine didn’t want to hurt her, which was weird because the Nine hurt everyone. Well, that was probably because they wanted to use her power. It certainly wasn’t because she was a kid. She’d heard about what the Siberian did to kids who weren’t Bonesaw.

Dinah shivered. She guessed the nine percent given by her power was when she got hurt attacking them or they did something by accident, which was good, but this was the Nine. She couldn’t trust them.

“Dinah? Sweetie, are you ok?”

Dinah jolted in surprise and looked up. Mom was standing in front of her, a worried expression on her face and her hands on her hips. “What’s the matter sweetie? You didn’t want to watch Mouse Protector?”

His hand flicked as he winked. Mouse Protector vanished and a line of invisible cutting force left a deep gash where she’d stood. She reappeared above him but he was already hopping backwards. Jack Slash’s other hand twitched and she barely blocked with her shield, only for the first hand to swipe again at her knees and-

Dinah shook her head, not wanting to meet her mom’s worried gaze. “No. I was just… Thinking.”

It only took two days for her life to fall apart.

“You look sad, sweetie. Is there something I can do to help? Do you need some headache medicine?” Janice Alcott replied, concerned, but obviously not hearing the capital letter. It was for the best, Dinah reminded herself. She had a great mom, but the Siberian ate great moms for breakfast.

“It’s fine, Mom.” Dinah rubbed her eyes and gave the older Alcott a tired smile. “I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s not something you can help me with anyway. I’ll figure it out.”

“Ok. If you say so.” She looked behind her at the television before turning back to Dinah. “Do you want to go to bed early?”

She thought about it and nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

Dinah pulled herself off the couch and trudged over the bathroom. Her mom called after her. “Sweetie? I’m going to try and get some work done on the computer in my room. Let me know if you need anything ok? Anything at all.”

“Ok Mom!” Dinah called back, shutting the bathroom door behind her. She took another deep breath, unhooked her toothbrush from the wall, and paused. Wait a minute. Do I have to pack? Like when we go camping?

She started going through the bedtime routine a little faster than usual. There is no way I’m wearing Bonesaw’s clothes. She gagged a little at the thought. Or using her toothbrush! Ew ew ew!

—

So this was it. Dinah sat on the steps leading up to the Alcott household’s front porch. Her backpack filled with clothes on her back and resting on the stair above her, toothbrush and toothpaste sticking out of the front pocket.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It was cold outside, the April chill seeping through her sweatshirt and underneath the hood. She crossed her arms tightly. Not cold enough to see her breath, but enough to make her shiver and bounce her leg up and down.

Actually, that was probably the nerves, she realized. Because despite humming the Mouse Protector theme song softly against the ambient howl of the wind rushing down the streets, despite reminding herself that they didn’t want to hurt her, despite thinking about how much worse it would be if she did anything else…

Dinah was scared. She was scared out of her mind.

What if they kill me anyway? What if they don’t come at all? What if the snake guy gets here first? What if Bonesaw gives me extra arms? What if heroes attack them and I get hurt that way? What if…

Escaping the house was easy. Too easy. Mom liked to listen to music while she worked, and Dad was still at the bar with his drinking buddies like every night on the weekends. No one was there to notice her silently stuff her backpack with everything she might want to bring. She’d just walked out, making sure to open and close doors as quietly as possible.

It shouldn’t have been that easy to leave everything behind. Dinah almost wished her mom noticed and stopped her, but she knew how that future ended. Why couldn't it show her a good future? Was her life really that screwed up?

5.0037211048839462218% chance anyone will notice you sneaking out of your house before the Slaughterhouse Nine arrive to kidnap you. As far as Dinah could tell, the times they did notice was when she tried to get a goodbye hug from her mom, or started loudly crying on the porch steps. She didn’t like how her power made her look like a crybaby, but after getting the urge to do both soon after she finished packing, she knew it had a point.

So there she was. The streets and sidewalks were empty. No one else was outside at this hour. The neighbors across the street had their window shades open, and Dinah could see the backs of their heads as they watched something she couldn’t make out.

A pair of headlights turned the corner and Dinah’s head snapped around. Was that them? She could hear the engine make a chugging noise as it got closer, the brightness of the lights ruining her night vision.

No. She slumped back down as the van drove past, the doppler effect changing the pitch of the engine as it left. No, it wasn’t. They drove a tan colored RV, not a black van. She could see that much when she asked her questions.

Dinah scowled. Couldn’t they hurry up? She didn’t want to jump at every shadow and pair of headlights all night.

Though, on the bright side, she wouldn’t have to do her homework for a while! Dinah giggled a little bit, pressing a hand to her mouth to keep the noise down. Why don’t you have your homework done, Dinah? Sorry Mrs. Higgins. Crawler ate my homework. She giggled some more.

Then the laughter subsided, and the fear was back. Jokes wouldn’t stop them either. Nothing would.

Her mind went back to Mouse Protector again. Not the show this time, but an interview. Her dad asked if she wanted to watch it, and Dinah didn’t even know what an interview was before her dad explained what it meant. Once she realized that Mouse Protector, the real Mouse Protector, was going to be on TV though, she’d been so excited. Funny how long ago it felt now.

“To me, a hero isn’t something you are. It’s an action. When you see a guy pull a gun and demand a girl to strip, what are you going to do?” Mouse Protector shrugged. “Are you going to ignore it? If you do, then you’re a coward. Are you going to call the police, hiding behind excuses of ‘I’m not good enough’ and ‘this isn’t my job’? Then you’re a coward with a conscience. Or…” She leaned forward in the chair, her cape framing her shoulders perfectly in the studio lighting. “Are you going to stop him? Are you going to push past your fear and be brave? Are you going to help, not because it’s your job, or you want a good reputation, or Mouse Protector said you should, but because it’s the right thing to do? Because if not you, then who? That’s being a hero. You don’t need superpowers to do that.”

She’d made a promise to her dad that night. She was going to be a hero. She was going to be brave. She was going to do the right thing, even if it was scary.

The shadows shifted and Dinah looked up.

A tan RV pulled to a stop in front of her.

Oh.

She could hear her heartbeat speed up, the “thump thump thump” pulsing in her ears.

They’re here.

She didn’t feel brave anymore.

She’d thought about this moment for two days, workshopping what she was going to do. What she was going to say. Walk up and make a bus driver joke? Plead with them to leave her alone? Glare at them and refuse to say a word? Scream at them for ruining her life, her future as a superhero? Laugh at Crawler for being too fat to fit in a normal van?

Dinah couldn’t move. No. That was wrong. Dinah didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to go with them. She didn’t want to let them win. She didn’t want to acknowledge this was real. She didn’t want to be brave. She didn’t want… this.

She didn’t want this.

The world seemed to freeze. All she could see was the RV. All she could hear was the throbbing of her heartbeat. All she could do was sit, frozen in indecision.

The door opened with a click, and the most wanted man on earth stepped out.

He was tall. Taller than her dad, but not by much. He had a neatly kept beard and mustache, the same color as his dark hair cut short in an unremarkable hairstyle. His jeans had holes at the knees, and his button-up shirt was not buttoned up all the way, white with dark splotches that became more prominent around his hands.

Bloodstains. They were bloodstains.

Jack Slash smiled at her and stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, hands clasped behind his back. He looked like an ordinary guy, with a little red added for flavor. An ordinary murderer. A man with a knife.

Dinah stared, eyes wide as a deer in headlights. She’d seen this, of course, but it was different now. When she used her power, there was always that sense of separation between her and what it showed her. That what she saw wasn’t real yet.

This was real. This was really happening. That really was Jack Slash. They really were going to take her.

“Hello.”

She still couldn’t move.

Jack waited a moment, and when she didn’t answer he raised his head to look up at the sky. “It’s a lovely night out.” He pointed up above her house. “I think I can see the Big Dipper right there. No cloud cover to obscure it tonight.”

Come on, Dinah! You need to be brave! She took a deep breath. “Yeah.” And that was it.

He raised an eyebrow at her, amused. “Yeah indeed. You must be Dinah Alcott. Your hair is longer than I thought it would be.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t know why, but somehow it helped her find what to say. “You’re Jack Slash.”

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Suddenly she realized not looking at the scary murderer was a bad idea and quickly opened them, checking if he’d moved. He hadn’t, but the smile was gone. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“Yeah.” She firmed her resolve and stood up, her backpack sliding down her back. This was her chance. “Why?”

Jack tilted his head. “Why what?”

“Why do you want me?”

Dinah stepped off the porch and began to walk towards him. There was no point in resisting. They both knew how this was going to end. “Am I a hostage for the Protectorate? Are you nominating me? Am I going to have to go through your tests?” She spat out the word, trying not to show how scared she was. Based on his smirk, she wasn’t succeeding, but she wanted to know. “How do you always find me? How do you know?!”

“Hmm.” He let his arms fall to his sides. Dinah froze again when she saw the glint of metal in his hands. “I suppose your interest is understandable. While I’d love to answer your questions, it is a bit chilly out.”

The knife disappeared up his sleeve with a twitch, and Jack gestured to the open door. “Perhaps you’d like to discuss this inside? We wouldn’t want any eavesdroppers, now would we?”

Left unsaid is what would happen to said eavesdroppers. Dinah clenched her hands into fists. No. She might be in danger, but she wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt because of her.

Jack spun around and made his way back to the RV, not bothering to check if she was coming. A casual display of how much control he had over her. In that moment she had the insane idea to just run while his back was turned, but she shook her head and followed. I’m not a coward.

He waited next to the door and offered his hand. She eyed it uncertainly. Jack rolled his eyes at her and wiggled his fingers. “Come now, Dinah. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t need to grab your hand to do it. Let’s not waste each other’s time, please. We mean you no harm.”

Yeah, and I wish I knew why. She took his hand and he hoisted her up into the vehicle. She vaguely heard him climb in after her and shut the door, but her full attention was on the scene before her.

A girl that looked around her own age was sitting on a couch. Golden blonde hair curled in ringlets bounced as Bonesaw glanced up from her work and waved excitedly. “Hi!”

Another, older girl in a red dress was resting her head on Bonesaw’s lap, mouth opened wide as the biotinker continued to fiddle around in there. A small brown orb was carefully inserted inside and she started convulsing, gripping the cushions tightly. A line of circular burns traced a smile across her face. Burnscar. Dinah hadn’t known about her until she’d looked up the current known members of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Near the back, a man with shaggy black hair lay face first on the floor. She couldn’t see anything else, and didn’t recognize him. Next to him, however, was a pile of featureless white limbs connected by chains. It took her a second to realize when the chains retracted it would piece them back together like a… Mannequin. She didn’t remember anything about chains, but who else could it be?

Dinah saw a mass of tentacles and eyes behind them and hurriedly looked away. She didn’t want Crawler nightmares, thank you. Seeing him in visions and pictures online was more than enough.

In the driver’s seat was a woman she didn’t remember too, until she winked and a shard of glass lifted itself off the ground to spin around her finger. Shatterbird.

Finally, in the center was a young woman in a meditative pose, hands resting on her knees and legs crossed, with long dark hair and a red streak running through it. She reached up, took a pair of earbuds out of her ears and tucked them into the pockets of her jeans. That was three people now Dinah didn’t recognize on sight.

“Now that we have some privacy-” Dinah jumped at the sound of Jack talking behind her. She’d already forgotten about him. Stupid! Pay attention!

He chuckled. “Sorry about that. Now that we have some privacy, I’d like to introduce you to our newest member. Dinah, meet Cherish. Daughter of Heartbreaker…”

Oh no. Heartbreaker?!

“And mistress of the Slaughterhouse Nine.”