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The Vespidian
Contamination, Chapter 9

Contamination, Chapter 9

The Vespidian

Arc 1 Contamination

Chapter 9

The vehicle slowed and stopped with a slight jerk.

Molotov shifted. "What is problem?"

"Comrade, road is blocked," said the Russian driver.

I stirred, sitting up, gazing out vehicle at the road covered in tires. Something like that should not happen. My eyes roamed, but there was no one in sight. Molotov scowled and opened the door getting out. She looked left, then right, and sighed heavily. "Looks like we need some music."

She pulled the boom box out, took a few paces, and set it on the ground. She pressed the play button and started tapping her foot to the beat. Nodding her head back and forth, she was shuffling a little bit. She clapped twice and mouthed the words to the song. She was really getting into it, then pulled out a rocket launcher. "Burn baby burn, burn baby burn. To my surprise it's one hundred stories high. People gettin loose y'all. Getting down on the roof. Stoke the flame and out of control so entertaining, out of control."

She pointed it to the run-down restaurant directly across the street. The windows broke out, and people threw themselves as she fired. The missile screeched and plunged deep inside. A shock wave burst out, and the building collapsed, with smoke and debris scattering everywhere. She smirked and put the rocket launcher back inside before pulling out a flamethrower. She primed it, and the flame spouted a hundred feet before her, landing directly on all those trying to get back on their feet. Screams filled the air, and the stench of burned flesh rose. Disgust filled me; the aroma made my stomach churn with hunger.

"Babababa I hear music in the air." Molotov laughed. She stepped towards them and unloaded another burst, giving rise to even more frantic yells.

She walked over, kicking the tires off of the street. Molotov glanced around and closed her eyes briefly, then her head snapped toward the ruined building. She pulled the pin of a grenade and hurled it over the next wall into a side alleyway. It detonated into a blood fountain, and gore spouting over the walls. She was still dancing to the boogie with a demonic grin. When the song ended, she wiped her hands and put away the boombox. She whistled when she returned to the car, closing the door gently. I held my head, trying to make sense of it all. She really did kill people. Somewhere in my head, I always thought it was a joke or something, but I can't deny what I just saw, and she looked like she enjoyed it.

"Drive." She said, twirling a finger through her hair and humming along. She gazed at me with a mischievous smile.

"What was all that about." I cringed.

"Just blowing off a little steam."

I retreated from her hand. "You just killed all those people and it was nothing to you. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She sighed and scooted over so that I had nowhere to escape. Her arm wrapped around my waist, and she grinned. "They were going to rob whoever stopped there or tried to run. Unfortunately for them, they ran into me. They were scum, no one will miss them."

"Why are you so heartless? I don't want this." I tried to push her away, but her hand grasped my spine, and I shuddered, hearing a loud crack, unable to control my arms.

"Shhh." She whispered, leaning in, her grip tightening. "You will learn to take life. Leave it to me. Given your disposition, I know you will learn to love it. Did you think I did not see how you yearned to tear your mother to pieces? I look at you Vespidian and see nothing, but boundless potential. I will train you to kill. I believe that you can eat people as well, I know you have been craving meat lately. I know... How about I lock you in a room with a little snack?"

My eyes gaped at her, and I shook my head desperately. "Please anything, but that I don't want to kill anyone!"

"In time. No need to worry, I won't rush this, that would ruin the enjoyment after all. By the end of this, you will see things my way, I assure you. How about that dinner? I have worked up an appetite."

She nestled in, leaning against me. I trembled in horror. I realized once more just what sort of monster was keeping me company. Though I resisted her temptation and urging. I had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before I started to see things her way. If I wanted to survive in this world, I would have to adapt, and there was no better place to learn than from Molotov. I felt that if I could survive her cruelty, I could survive anything. What scared me more than her was that I really did want to kill my mother. If she had not intervened, I want to think that I would not have killed her. But I know deep down that is a lie. I have a feeling in my gut that I would have enjoyed it. I was disgusted with myself, but I had already decided to survive no matter what it took. Even still, I knew that I was not ready yet to take a life.

The car arrived while I sat lost in my despair. Molotov pulled me along like always. I had no choice but to follow. We came to a new place this time. I jogged back into reality, gazing over the mess hall. Long tables were arranged in even formations. The armored men and women sat around eating and chatting. The room quieted down the moment we entered. It felt strange to draw such attention. I was unsure if it was me or Molotov that attracted their gaze. It was me. Of course, it was me. Smiles exploded all around from the hardened soldiers. They cheered, and I stood there, not knowing what the hell was going on.

"Vespidian is alive! Hey, pay up!" Shouted a few, laughing and punching each other.

Why do they keep thinking I am going to die? They were not looking at me like some monster. It felt so good. I never would have thought that a bunch of gruff and edgy people would be welcoming me. My smile spread, and one bolted over to the trash can, throwing up. My stomach churned. Was it my fault? Am I that ugly to cause a soldier to puke?

A few others were patting him on the back. "Oi, what did we say, man. This is why you don't start drinking at nine in the morning. How many shots have you had? Eight?! What the fuck man you holding out on us? Where is the stash?!"

The guy got shaken down, and everybody was laughing except me. My mouth twitched. I hated this face, so what if I was not the cause this time. I brooded the whole way over to the food station, but then I smelled the meat. Steak lit up my eyes, and I grasped Molotov's hand in excitement. She grinned, filling up a plate with mashed potatoes and gravy and a big juicy T-bone steak. I can say without a doubt that I was drooling. We made our way to the table, and the soldiers crowded around after we sat. Some of them were sneaking glances at me while others were poking at the wiggly things on the back of my head. I did not care. I wanted that food! I tried to use a fork and knife. Unfortunately, the utensils did not fit properly in my hands. It would take getting used to since my hand arrangement was different. Claws are hard to be delicate with. I ended up snapping the fork and knife from squeezing too hard.

I stared at the food; however, I am no animal. I would not dig into it with my hands... Damn it, bottom righty! It was already grabbing the meat and raising it to my mouth. I gave up trying to be civilized and opened wide. The whole steak, bone, and all dropped onto my tongue. I almost died from how good it tasted. I closed my eyes, enjoying the flavor. My grin spread as the mandibles set to work, dismembering with crunches and snaps as they cracked the bone and tore the flesh.

Meat at last. No wonder I had been craving it. How would something a little fresher taste? I opened my eyes and saw Molotov looking at me. She held another steak in her hand, dangling it in front of me. I turned away. With a sour look. What did I look like, some dog? It did look good; I could not help but sneak glances at it. It smelled so delectable too. My fingers were getting restless, and I ended up leaning toward her to get it. My mouth was open wide, waiting for it, and she plopped it in.

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I chewed delighted, and for the first time in over an hour, my chest did not feel like someone had cut it open and ripped my hearts out. I ended up shoveling the potatoes into my gaping maw as well. They were so warm and fluffy, but for some reason, I did not really like them... It was strange. I had two different expectations. I remembered how good they tasted, yet now they were kinda sour, but at the same time, they were buttery and delicious. It was as though my brain was fighting itself over what was reality. I could not make heads or tails of it. I was getting worried since Molotov was so quiet and not hurting me. Her face was blissful as she gazed at me. I raised an eyebrow or rather the ridge above my eye, and she wiggled her fingers at me. Was she flirting with me!? Not interested. My face scrunched up into a scowl, and she started laughing.

Molotov wiped a tear from under her eye. "You funny Vespidian. You should have seen face. Went from bliss to despair, then bliss to despair and now you're pouting. Feeling better now?" I shook my head, and she frowned. "What is the matter? Is there something you want to do?"

I thought about it and said. "I want to see you in an adorable dress."

Molotov's eyes nearly ripped open; she pointed at me and gritted her teeth. "Now you look here.... Wait, you were serious?"

I nodded, and she crossed her arms with a sour look. She glanced at me twice before sighing, "Alright, I has some in my room come along. This make you feel better?"

"Really? You actually will?" I fawned at her, and she blushed, swatting my twitching hands away from her. "No touchy feely got it. That is my job."

"Wait, you actually have dresses?" I asked, following her like a shadow. She walked along to the elevator, and I squeezed in after her. The doors closed, and she pressed the ninth-floor button. So her room is on that floor. What is it like? The elevator began to move; it was hardly noticeable with how smooth it went.

"Da. When I go undercover can't exactly be wearing black jumpsuit. Draws too much attention. You sure about this? I thought you did not like me after I kill people?"

I thought for a while. How did I feel, I wonder? I collected my thoughts and said. "Well, I still don't like that, but I understand it on a level. I am not ready to kill."

"Is that so? So you don't care if I murder people in cold blood in front of you?"

"I never said that! You should not kill either it is bad."

She looked at me with cold eyes. "Listen if you don't kill someone and let them go they will seek revenge. It is easier to simply deal with them then rather than later. Hesitating will get you killed you know. Morality is what the weak hide behind so they are not crushed by the strong in a civilized society. It is stupid excuse. Moment things go wrong silly little thing is thrown out window and cats and dogs are fucking in street. Society is very easy to destroy it is more of an illusion that we cling to, to say we better than animals."

I nodded, nibbling on my finger. She had a good point. It is not as though those were innocent people or anything, either. I mean, they had guns, right? They were going to rob us, maybe even try to kill us. Wait, could it be that I am just looking for an excuse to not feel bad about killing someone, and Molotov was giving it to me? Am I a good person? I scowled; this was not something a normal person should have to even consider. Oh, I keep forgetting that I am not normal anymore, let alone a person. Molotov keeps saying that people will come after me... Are they going to try and hurt me? I really should learn how to defend myself then, just in case.

My gaze fell on her back. "What kinds of dresses do you have?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "All kinds, I am rich."

"You don't seem very keen to wear them. Why?"

"It gives off wrong kind of image."

"You have Gothic Lolita stuff?" I must have had something similar to a rape face on because Molotov gave me a stern look.

"I do, but you had better behave or else." She was giving me the death glare. Didn't matter to me. I was still on cloud nine. I get to see her in a cute dress. Will there be frills? There has to be ruffles, right? My love of cute things is still here. Been a long while since I got hyped about a cute cosplayer. It gets me a bit excited, really. Ah, I wonder how Ichigo is doing?

She looked me over and turned a key in the panel. The door opened. A single room filled the floor. It was all hers. Training equipment was neatly stacked up to one side while a table occupied the middle of the room. The far wall had an assortment of desks, and in the far corner, behind a thick folding screen, I could see the edges of a bed. A wardrobe stood to act as a divider between the desks and the bed. She walked over, disappeared behind the screen, and left me to my own devices. I glanced over the table; there was a map of Bronson covering it with a knife stabbed into the middle.

The city could be divided into about eight sections, which she had with colored markers... At times I questioned if Molotov was really not just a little girl. It was cute how there were doodles all over the sides. I looked closer and realized what they meant. Sitting down, I inspected the map closely. The highlighted areas were written down as certain turfs. The Atomic Apostles, Sixes and Sevens, Mad Dogs, Scarlet Souls, Cyber Sirens, Angels of Hell, and the Diablo De Chillar were scrawled out with lists of who their members were and where they could be located. I did not even know that there were that many Super Villain groups in the area. I always thought this town was rather quiet. Well, besides the slums, that place was kind of crazy. To think there were so many evils just hiding below the surface. Of course, I had been locked in my basement out in the boonies for six years. So what the hell did I know?

The city itself was broken down into eight sections. The group lines crossed over these areas and clashed frequently. She put Xs where the group had recently done a job or gotten into a fight. There was a lot, and these groups seemed very active. The Cyber Sirens had the least amount of area and were located in a corner of the northwestern region of the city. It was a high-end neighborhood and had a mall as well as a lot of the more sophisticated businesses. Mad Dogs were the opposite and down in the slums in the city's south. Downtown had the Atomic Apostles; their area crept right up to the sphere with the Cyber Sirens, and the other side of the turf clashed with the Angels of Hell. The north side was the Scarlet Souls. The city's center was not controlled by any of the gangs at all. A strange, almost circular expanse radiating out seemed to repel all the unscrupulous elements. Then I saw why there was a fat HLH written on the area. The Hero League Headquarters for the city was there. No wonder the gangs were steering clear. Now that I looked closely, a few smaller circles in various parts of the city were the Hero Squad Stations.

The East side was the industrial, agricultural section of the city ended up being a strange hodgepodge of fields on one side. At the same time, there were factories and skyscrapers right next to it. This area was ripped in half between the Sixes and Sevens and the Diablos. I was not paying too much attention when we left earlier, so I don't know where we are right now, but my house was in the north, way out near the mountains and the forest reserve. I never knew that I lived in the Scarlet Soul area. In fact, I did not even know they existed.

I glanced over the list of Super Villains in that gang: Fold, Shadow, Mist, and Jack the Hammer. The names didn’t exactly screams originality. I mean, I could probably guess what their powers are just by the names.

A rustle diverted my attention, and I looked up to see a little princess. Her silky gold hair was curled, and a little bonnet covered the top of her head. The dress was pink and like a bell at the bottom. She was perfect down to the laces and white gloves. How can something so adorable be real? She would be fantastic as a fairy. I should make her do that next, and I will take pictures. I found it very hard to not run up and hug and pet her. It was a fight I was losing quickly as I started to gain speed while walking towards her. Molotov stared me down, and I stopped in my tracks.

"Da. You like, no? This what you were talking about?" Asked that gruff man's voice, shattering my illusions.

I nodded and sulked over to her. "Yeah. It looks good."

"I dressed up just for you and this is what I get?" She had a hmph look and patted her foot on the floor. It was the sort of thing that could drive anybody who loved cute things wild. "Now, what is problem?"

I lifted her up, and she scowled at me, but there were no punches or anything like that. I carried her under my arm, and she protested as we went to her bed. I sat down and plopped her onto my lap. She turned and stared at me in silence. I was unsure if she was angry or what, usually, there is violence if I do something unappreciated. Molotov started poking and pinching me when I said nothing. There it is, ow that actually hurts!

"Ow stop that!"

"Tell me what problem?"

I sighed, petting her like a doll. Oddly, she did not resist or break any fingers. I was almost disappointed. Oh god, have I been conditioned to her cruelty? I shook my head and said, "Just let me pet you for a while."

"What the hell will that do?" She asked, getting ready to stab me with a finger.

"Calm me down." I replied, lying back and covering my eyes with my upper hands while the lower one kept brushing her hair.

"This helps heart?"

"Yes."

Molotov did something I would never have expected her to do, she hugged me. I was confused at first. She had tortured, maimed, broken my fingers, and made fun of me, all for her amusement. Yet here she was, the only person who even tried to understand me. I suppose that Dad also tried, but he would never truly understand what I was going through. This wasn't some angsty teen bullshit; I wish it was. Molotov was so hard to understand. One minute she was stabbing me with a knife, the next cuddling up to me. She called me names and beat me, then picked up the pieces putting them back together. Is she my friend or my enemy? I do not understand at all. Perhaps Molotov is simply someone who cannot be understood. Why was I even attached to this terrible person who did nothing but hurt me? Was I that lonely and desperate? I just don't know. The only thing that I do know is that she looks like an angel, despite most likely being the devil. Who am I to judge? I am just a monster like her.

She lay back and nestled into my hollow stomach cavity, using it like a hammock and my chest as a pillow. I can't imagine it was comfortable, but she was not complaining. My hands idly pet her head, and I felt at peace.