The old woman’s body flailed. Grass flew skyward as she bounced several times, finally landing in the neighbor’s yard. Every person’s eyes followed the lady as if she was the ball in a ping-pong match. My eyes darted to Al, who wore a stern expression. Her assessing gaze roamed over the other party-goers.

“What the death was that?!” I demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Instinct.”

She fell into a crouch. Before I could stop her, she surged forward and clotheslined another of the greeters on the way to the house.

“Al!” I shouted. She’d completely lost her mind! I apologized to the remaining awestruck individual from the welcoming committee and gave chase. “What are you doing?” I called to her but got no response.

As I ran, I felt an odd sensation, like I’d run through a soap bubble, then I was blindsided by a table that sent me to the ground. Dazed, I rolled onto my butt to look at where it had come from. A soccer mom’s chest heaved with massive breaths, and she growled at me—literally growled at me like a rabid cougar.

Before I could grasp what was happening, a cane hurtled toward the side of my head. I reacted by raising my arm to block, but when it connected, my forearm buckled. The force of the walking stick had snapped the bones in my arm like kindling. The rest of the cane shattered, sending splinters into my face. The pain shocked me out of my confusion. Before the cane-wielding old man could stab me with the sharp end he still held, I scrambled out of reach and quickly surveyed the scene.

What I saw was pure mayhem. Across the lawn, a kid leapt through the air like a spider monkey, landing on Al’s back. Before he could fully latch on, she reached over her shoulder and threw him at a man swinging a lawn chair. It was as though the boy had become a human baseball. He flew across the yard into a table of food. Brats, burgers, and buns were tossed into the air.

My uncanny sense for danger alerted me to a hand trying to palm my head from behind. I knocked it away and winced when I remembered my arm was broken. Cradling it, I rolled away and hopped to my feet. My attacker was the greeter that I’d apologized to as I ran past. The one Al had knocked down rose, and when my eyes investigated the neighbor’s yard, the elderly woman was getting to her feet. Bones shifted beneath the skin on her face until her skull returned to its normal shape. She looked completely unfazed by Al’s devastating punch.

“Unholy crap,” I said in disbelief. To offer support and not out of absolute terror, I ran toward Al. As I booked it, I concentrated my energy into my broken forearm. The intention to heal the bones specifically quickly restored them to normal. I flexed my fingers then refocused on Al.

She had just uppercut a man wearing an apron onto the roof of the house. An instant later, my mentor’s body bent sideways unnaturally from a purse swung by a blonde in a sundress. The attack took Al off her feet, and she collided with a stainless-steel grill. It was sent a few feet into the yard. She recovered quickly, favoring one side, but a man caught her by the throat and slammed her into the siding. The force left an impression of her in the wall. She gasped and I felt a tug in my chest.

As I closed in to knock the man off her, I was instead forced to back bend, when a gout of flames blasted out of her mouth like a dragon breathing fire. The man’s head was blackened and extra crispy as he slumped to the ground. Al rubbed her neck and jumped away from the wall to create some distance from the hoard. I followed.

Her eyes scanned the crowd with the desperation of a wounded animal. She held her stomach with one arm, while the other dangled at her side. Every person that she’d struck down slowly rose to their feet. The man on the roof jumped down into a heap. Bones jutted from his broken legs. He ignored the pain, dragging his lower half as he crawled toward Al. All of the party-goers slowed to encircle us.

“I think they’re mad you ruined their party,” I jested. There was no smirk or clever quip in response. Her teeth were clenched; her full focus completely on the battle, but she wasn’t going to be able to fight in that condition. I arrived at her side and gingerly placed a hand on the shoulder with her dangling arm. Even with my slow deliberate motion, my touch got the reaction of a maddened beast, but she was able to catch herself before her murderous intent overwhelmed me.

“I’m going to heal you.”

“Hurry up,” she growled.

She used her other arm to send a wave of fire at the crowd to ward off any attacks while I sent a tendril of energy into her to inspect the damage. A broken arm, dislocated shoulder, and several broken ribs. My magic caused her to grimace as her arm set itself, her shoulder went back into the socket, and her ribs fused together. The expression of pain and anger on her face dissipated.

Her head twisted in my direction, and her eyes met mine. I smiled. Maybe she’d forgotten how impressive my healing ability was because the grin that spread across her face made her look like the suburbanite-slaying demon that she was.

“We’re in some sort of immortality field,” Al said. “The demon should be at the center.” She stretched. “Stay behind me. If you need to fight, boost your strength in bursts. You’ll conserve energy that way.”

I pouted. I was being treated as a kid again. Rather than going with her plan, as soon as she started running, I ran next to her. We weaved toward the party-goers like land dolphins.

Al paused to Sparta-kick the man that had labeled me a blasphemer. He went flying through the party house’s window. Her advice to use mage strength in bursts made so much sense, I felt stupid for not thinking of that against Cara. It also stood to reason that I shouldn’t have used every body augmentation at once.

Feeling jealous of Al’s prior fun, I made my way toward the spider monkey kid specifically. He didn’t expect me to grab him and throw him like a football at the soccer mom. Her face didn’t convey how immensely satisfying it was to rocket a brat across the yard at her. I was both impressed and disappointed when the woman caught the kid and whipped him back with a perfect spiral. I ducked, but was too slow, and our heads collided. I flipped several times in the air and landed on the ground. I looked up with a groan.

Al sent the elderly woman back into the neighbor’s yard with a haymaker. She followed it with a donkey kick to an incoming aggressor then ducked the grill master’s spatula, which lodged itself in the chest of a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt. She rose with an uppercut to the purse-wielding blonde and side-kicked someone else. All of her attacks flowed into the next like an unending combo in a video game.

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I rose in awe, until the cane-wielder swung at me again. I caught the implement, and yanked it away from him. I could also be impressive. I punched him in the face. It caved in like a water balloon. With the pointy end of the stick, I stabbed a man in the throat. Pulling out the weapon, a geyser of blood erupted from the wound, then I went into a batter’s stance. I shattered my cane-bat by knocking someone out of the park and the crowd went wild.

I took a staggering step toward my next victim. Something obscured my vision, but trying to shake it away caused dizziness to almost overwhelm me. I touched my head then looked at my hand. It was covered in blood. A quick scan showed me that the kid had cut open my forehead. Healing energy knit the wound together. When I looked up, the soccer mom screamed in challenge. Challenge accepted.

The crowd parted and I approached. I rolled my shoulders and neck, bouncing like a boxer preparing himself. The woman lifted a hand and clenched it into a fist. Her knuckles cracked and popped. I did the same, but nothing happened. We began circling each other.

Without preamble, she surged toward me with a wild swing. Like a jujitsu master, I grabbed her front and hip tossed her over me. However, I wasn’t able to follow through with a slam. She somersaulted and immediately went into a leg sweep that I wasn’t prepared for. I was momentarily dazed when I struck the ground. The soccer mom kicked me into the air, then slammed me to the ground with the force of her fist. I felt my ribs crack with the impact.

A moment later, she had me in a submission hold. Her legs were wrapped around my arm, she was pushing off my shoulder with her feet, and I felt like my arm was going to be torn off. I tried to tap out, but she wasn’t having any of it. Supplementing my shoulder and arm with strength still wasn’t enough as I felt my ligaments start to tear. I hissed in pain. Her grip suddenly released just as I was accepting that I’d lose the arm. I looked over.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Al asked.

“Supporting single mothers?” I wheezed. “And watch your language.”

“Stop messing around.”

I thought that would be the end of the interaction, but she picked me up and threw me toward the house’s front door like I was an immortal little kid that was fun to use as a ball. My head was the battering ram that broke open the door. By the time I recovered, Al was stepping into the house looking completely unscathed.

I got up to walk beside her. Using up even more energy, I healed all the wounds I’d accumulated. My goal was to look as eerie as possible as my injuries visibly disappeared. I realized the futility when the party joined us in the home and their bodies reformed in a grotesque display that gave me the heebie-jeebies.

Cara sat upon a throne with her legs crossed. I say throne, but it was really just a recliner set on the kitchen island. She was looking rather goth, wearing a leather jacket, a black skirt, and fishnet tights. Two shirtless men in their late teens, early twenties, fanned her with palm fronds, Satan only knows where they got them. Two guys with dad bods wearing football helmets stood guard on either side of the island.

“Ahh, I remember you,” Cara said with a smile directed at me. “What do you think of my castle?” She gestured around the room. “It’s much better than the one you destroyed, don’t you think?”

“Uhh… Sure,” I replied lamely. “Yeah. So, Cara—”

“Jascia,” she corrected.

“Jascia… I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let everyone go and return from whence you came?”

As expected, she laughed. It was the condescending laugh of a ‘proper’ lady, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and everything.

“Let them go? They aren’t my prisoners; they enjoy serving me and I’ve given them immortality as a reward. Why would they want to go back to being weak scum?”

“Uhh… I’m not sure they enjoy it all that much, on account of being mind-controlled and all.”

She scoffed. “Silly peasant. They aren’t being ‘mind-controlled’. They’re enthralled. Captivated by my beauty.”

“Cool. Anyway—it’s not very nice and you should stop,” I said. Al smacked her forehead and Jascia emitted her proper laugh again. I maintained my poise, but knew I had to work on my speechcraft. Jascia cleared her throat.

“That won’t be happening. However, I am a magnanimous queen. For making it to my throne room and proving your might, I judge you worthy of my patronage. Pledge your loyalty, and you may become my champions. Your boon? Immortality.”

“No thanks,” Al said with a predatory grin. “I’m here to test just how immortal you are.” Jascia paled slightly.

“Now hold on there, Al,” I said, taking on a new role. “Immortality could be worth bending the knee.” I winked at Al who rolled her eyes. “Just out of curiosity. How do you go about granting this immortality?”

“Well, I simply—” Jascia paused and eyed me suspiciously. “You needn’t know how the ceremony is performed. You’ve already borne witness to my power.”

“Quit the chatter. Get off your high horse and fight me like a real woman,” Al said, ruining my masterful ploy. Jascia laughed again.

She dismissed the challenge with a wave of her hand. “A queen does not lower herself to the level of common folk. That is what her minions are for.”

I cleared my throat. “Of course, my liege. I apologize for my companion’s lack of decorum.” I bowed. “But surely you can understand our trepidation to join you. Truly, we would be most humbled if you would provide us with a small demonstration.” I’d managed to salvage my plan, clearly impressing everyone present.

“I grow weary of these games. Guards! Dispose of this rabble.”

“Well, that escalated quickly,” I said to Al.

“Did you really think that was going to work?” she asked, unperturbed by the charging pair of dads.

“It would have worked if you hadn’t messed everything up,” I shot back. She laughed.

“At least you’re good entertainment.”

I was conflicted at whether to take that as a compliment or an insult as I jumped backward to dodge a tackle.

Al, with the grace and ease of a Taekwondo master, which she probably was, brought a leg straight up in the air. Her heel came down in an axe kick, cracking her attacker’s helmet and embedding his face in the floor. She then walked across the man’s back like it was a red carpet.

I displayed my own grace and ease by leap frogging over another tackle attempt aimed at me. My dad-guard stumbled and crashed through a window. It was cooler than it sounds; you had to be there.

“Get her!” Jascia commanded, pointing at Al. Hopping off her throne, she bolted, and her troops began closing in. She paused only to unlock and slide open the back patio door. I almost chuckled at how ridiculous it looked. Then, I did something my mentor couldn’t. Using my colorless essence instead of the angry red stuff I got from Al, I bolstered my speed and jetted across the floor.

I grabbed the teenager’s arm before she could make it more than a couple steps onto the back deck. After pulling her back into the room, she fell on her butt. She scrabbled away in fear. This confused me a little. Why didn’t she just super smash me? Unless… her power lied in the ability to empower others, but she was as weak as any other human.

The crash of shattering windows grabbed my attention. More of Jascia’s neighborhood hoard swarmed the house like zombies. They charged Al, but she was punching, kicking, dodging, and throwing them like a Kung Fu master, which she probably was. She had a wide smile on her face the whole time. I returned my attention to my prey: the teenage girl at my feet.

She tried to crawl away, so I grabbed her leg. She kicked at me in a futile attempt to free herself. I was tempted to swing her over my head and smash her on the ground back and forth like the Hulk. That would have been a better plan than just holding onto her ankle, because the creature gave up trying to flee. She reached toward me and gripped my shoulders. A grin appeared on her face as she pierced me with her eyes.

They were a black so dark that no light reflected off of them, so deep that they seemed to pull me in. I realized too late that they were pulling me in. It was a tunnel with no light at the end of it. When I looked behind me, the room was gone.