Arachnid forelimbs loomed out of the building, to a body mostly concealed in mist. Its singular, amber eye peered out of the black, swarming with splattered pupils. Some gazed upon Wade. Others scanned the environment, falling on anything that drew their attention.

All as one, those pupils focused down on the challenger approaching the giant.

Norman.

He drew his smitelight.

fweeeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

FFFOOOOOOOMM!

For a moment, night became day.

The smoke scream wailed.

Its appendage came down so fast that the air whistled. It pierced deep into the concrete where Norman stood, but he wasn’t there anymore. Wade hadn’t seen him dive, but he saw Norman end the roll and spring back to his feet.

Norman slashed at its joints with beams of his smitelight. The screaming giant’s leg faltered before it swept at him, tearing a path through the concrete. Norman backflipped clear of it. He fired a small burst of light midair.

FFAASSH!

The smoke scream reeled back into the building as his beam sizzled into its eye.

Wade watched in wonder. Norman was in his element. Was this what he was training for?

Gut instinct told Wade to check on the box once secure in the back.

It had shattered.

A screaming creature slammed against the rear window, its single flap flaring ferociously. Shrouded in black smoke, it was a lesser version of what Norman was fighting. It must have sensed the bigger one’s presence as they passed, provoking the attack which freed it. Offspring or mate, Wade didn’t care. Moving on muscle memory, he drew his gun. The nyctal took a bullet before scuttling onto the vehicle’s underbelly. It was too fast.

It's claw tore through metal, missing him by inches. Almost as an afterthought, he snatched up the smitelight before diving out the window into a slide.

He aimed.

It pounced.

Bathed in his smitelight beam, its attack fell apart and it sprawled on top of him. Haphazard claws slapped against his chest, but the strength that allowed it to slice through metal was all but gone. Its swipes were drunk with the light exposure.

Wade threw it off of him, fired up the smitelight’s taser function and jammed it into the nyctal. Steam mingled with black mist as it fried instantly, going limp.

He took a moment to collect himself. A split-second too slow and he would have been skewered.

SQUEELP!

A shower of gunk splattered across the street. The giant smoke scream’s eye had exploded. It took one too many blasts of smitelight. The fight was over. Rather, it should have been, but robbing the beast’s vision proved a curse in disguise. It wasn’t fighting anymore. It was death flailing, striking out at everything and nothing.

Norman ran as it began to bring down the city block. Then it tripped over its own legs and fell. If not for the viscera, it might have been a funny sight. However, Norman was within squishing range. He wasn’t going to make it.

Wade almost didn’t notice the rosy pink atmosphere fade in.

Norman spun to face the falling giant, whipping out his metallic orb.

It stopped falling.

Rosy rings held it aloft. They raised it into the air. It struggled, dancing in their grip like the strings of some twisted puppeteer. Ethereal tentacles sprang out of nowhere, seizing it in an iron grip. The smoke scream could scarcely twitch. Several tentacles enveloped what passed as its head. A flash of heat and they withdrew, leaving a gaping crater where its cranium had been. A series of sickening snaps racked the air as they cracked it apart like a lobster. Translucent sacks enveloped the pieces, buoyed by balloon-like bulbs that helped them remain airborne.

Wade blinked. He knew what this was. An A.M.E. had arrived. A.M.E.s were apex predators, but this kind of power was beyond what he’d imagined. Was it really over? Just like that?

He went into high alert as atmospheric tendrils probed towards Norman. He found himself reaching for the smitelight alongside his gun.

A vague, white aura flared around Norman. The tendrils bent around it as though striking a shield. He didn’t flinch.

Wade tilted his head. Did Norman have some way of fending off an A.M.E.?

The tendrils pulled back, but hovered close. They almost seemed uncertain, curious, as though this little mortal had piqued their fascination.

Above Norman, sinews of pink converged and congealed into a misshapen humanoid. They unraveled. The process repeated itself. This time, he saw details: eyes, wispy hair, some kind of dress. It was feminine. The sinews fell apart once more.

“Don’t give up,” Norman coached.

Realisation stoked Wade’s interest as he glanced between Norman and the entity. Was this …?

His answer came soon enough. As though heartened by Norman’s encouragement, the streams of pink came together in earnest. They tried and retried different configurations, each one more thorough than the last. Finally, her form reached its final stages. Abounding in grace, she descended before Norman, staring at the ground. Her body language brought to mind the image a schoolgirl in for a scolding.

Wade’s jaw went slack. She was beautiful, like a mythical creature of the night, but more than anything, she was familiar.

“Amy?” he exclaimed.

Amy seemed to notice him for the first time. She peeked around Norman and gave an absent-minded wave that made his heart flutter. Returning her attention to Norman, Amy fiddled with her claws. She looked uncomfortable in her own skin.

“I … told you not to look for me,” Amy chided softly.

Her voice flickered like a flame. There was some kind of flanging effect, but it was unmistakably her voice.

Norman nodded. “You also said you were hungry, so I brought you something. However, it seems you’ve already eaten.”

Amy looked back at the pieces of smoke scream floating in their sacks.

“What are those? Some kind of digestive system?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Amy nodded lackadaisically. “They’re really gross. I’m a little self-conscious about them.”

“Well, I’m a little self-conscious that we brought such a small snack,” Norman admitted on his end, looking over to the smoke scream Wade had fried.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Amy shrugged with a dim smile. “It drew out the big one, so I’d say you guys did a lot for me. Smells good, though.”

Norman sniffed the air and snapped his fingers in eureka. “It does, doesn’t it? Wade, I think I owe you one.”

Striding up to the half-fried smoke scream, Norman scorched it with a combination of taser zaps and light. It steamed with a delightful aroma.

Wade noticed thick pink liquid drip from Amy’s mouth. She caught him staring and sheepishly wiped it off. Was she drooling?

Her atmosphere vibrated in sync with Norman’s beam. It almost seemed to growl. She withdrew it from the light.

Norman picked up the little smoke scream and offered it to Amy. It had to be hot, but his gloves took it like nothing. After all that frying, the creature’s lost water weight made it a lot lighter. Still, the fact that he could lift it so easily was impressive.

Norman looked a bit disappointed in himself. “Sorry. I wish I could serve it on a silver platter, but-”

Amy snatched it from him and tore into the meal like a starving beast. Her hair tentacles drooped, among other features, as she almost literally melted.

Apparently, she wasn’t eating fast enough. Her hair tentacles took over, yanking the nyctal from her hands. Her entire head morphed into a feeding frenzy of tentacles. With empty hands left in holding position, Amy let her arm hang. Her body language suggested she was neither in control nor expecting this. The … ‘avatar’, of sorts, wasn’t big enough to consume the whole thing. It acted like a meat grinder, breaking down the meal into pulp released into the rest of her atmosphere. At some point, Amy decided to just let go and enjoy it. Whether she realised it or not, she’d begun bobbing her shoulders in a happy dance of bliss. Wade thought it was the cutest thing ever. Her element of danger made it all the more adorable. Amy had never been harmless. Seeing her do something cute was like watching a tiger act like a kitten. All the more precious.

The feast ended fast as it began. Amy’s head and hair snapped back to normal.

“MMMMM!” Amy exclaimed. “I thought I’d never eat a cooked meal again! Have you done this before?”

“Ways of cooking them started popping up on the forums,” Norman explained. “I’ve been experimenting.”

A morbid thought crossed Amy’s mind. “I wonder if it would work on something like me.”

“Pretty sure you’re a special case,” Norman supposed.

Amy’s mood darkened again. She looked him in the eye.

“Norman, seriously, you need to leave me alone,” Amy implored. “When you cooked that nyctal, the A.M.E. almost attacked you for the bright light. You know how A.M.E.s work. They sometimes use loved ones to lure in victims. What if that’s what I am? I can’t guarantee that it won’t kill you at any given moment.”

“You beat it, didn’t you?” Norman asked, though it sounded like a declaration. “You wrestled the A.M.E. into submission and took over. That’s why you didn’t attack us just like that.”

She looked at him long and hard. “How did you know? I mean, I thought I beat it, but it could be some kind of trick. Maybe everyone thinks they beat it. Maybe that’s how it gets them to be the bait.”

“If that were true, don’t you think it would have struck by now?” reasoned Norman. “A.M.E.s aren’t known to be patient when they have a target in their sights. They don’t let the bait have conversations.”

Amy’s mood brightened. “Yeah ... Good point, but there’re still moments when I can’t stop before it does something. Besides, everyone in this city is hurting. Do you really wanna be seen with the face of the hurt? One of the creatures responsible?”

Norman reached a reassuring hand for her shoulder. With a light zap, it went limp and hung at his side. Amy stared in horror, but he shrugged it off.

“Amy, when have I ever been afraid of you, or to be seen with you?” he asked. “You’re strong. You’re probably the strongest girl in the world, and you are more than enough to keep me by your side.”

The atmosphere grew warm and red with her avatar. Wade realised that she was blushing. The way she looked at Norman? That smile that could light up a night. Wade knew: whatever relationship they had before, it had sky rocketed to the next level.

Amy twirled her hair in her claws. She almost looked giddy.

“M-maybe next time I’ll get you something to eat,” she offered. “I mean, I can’t cook to save a life, but I’ll figure something out.”

Norman blinked, flummoxed. “You mean … like a …?”

She beamed with a nod. “Yeah. You win. I know it sounds forward. Trauma bonding can be deceptive, but honestly, there’s no one I’d rather at my side than you.”

Wade clapped all slow and savoury-like. “NOW KITH!”

Amy chortled.

“Dude, ruining the moment!” Norman lightly rebuked.

Wade scoffed. “As if. The meteor that killed the dinosaurs couldn’t ruin what y’all got goin’ on. Better than Twilight.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard anything is better than Twilight.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Do yourself a favour and don’t watch it. Ever.”

“Norman is more than enough supernatural romance for me,” Amy firmly declared.

Wade found that a vaguely odd choice of words, but he shook away the thought. Maybe she was just being a bit cheesy.

Amy’s atmosphere compressed around the pickup truck and lifted it back onto its wheels. Her aerosol weaved in and out of its parts. Wade heard the metal bump and bend as she buffed out the dents with aerokinesis. She ran her biomass through it one more time.

“The damage feels mostly superficial, but I’ve patched it up a bit,” Amy announced.

She knew her way around a vehicle!? Wade felt a wave of jealously.

“It’s dark out now. Want me to escort you back home?”

“I think we’ll manage,” Norman assured.

“Speak for yuh dear own self!” Wade blurted.

Norman laughed. “Okay. Halfway, maybe. I wanna get the word out that you’re friendly before the neighbourhood goes berserk.”

Amy hovered around him like a mischievous little shark circling prey. Her movements were mesmerising, like a creature of the deep.

“Norman Newman, I thought you weren’t afraid to be seen with your girlfriend,” she purred playfully.

~‘Girlfriend’,~ he thought. ~Man … this is really happening.~

“No. Never,” he asserted gently. ~I really wanna take her hands right now.~ “But it would be nice to get them prepped so you don’t get bombarded with flashlights.”

Amy giggled. “Yeah. That would suck pretty bad.”

~

One Month Later

Minutes before The Eye of the Storm …

~

This sucked. It sucked bad.

Mr. Brukup had been given a very graphic description of what would happen if he so much as touched his keychain. John Crow was quite the wordsmith, and they weren’t exactly bros.

It sounded like a cataclysm out there. Why was Amy fighting like this? She was supposed to be a gentle giant! They even had the perfect hostage! Would John Crow survive this? Would he survive this? His keychain hung on the opposite side of the room, ever tempting. If he was going to die, he wouldn’t go down without his keychain.

He scrambled for it, pausing to steady himself as the building rocked. Snatching it from the wall, he squealed with delight and connected it to his arm. Endorphins flooded through his system and he sighed, sinking to the ground. No sooner had he relaxed than a familiar pang made itself known. His keychain was empty.

It demanded to be fed.

His eyes slowly shifted to Norman’s limp form. A grin slithered across his lips.

One last meal.

His smile fell as rosy pink sparked near Norman. Was Amy trying to create an avatar? The spark faded like an ember before flaring up again. It reminded him of someone trying to light a match. A few sparks later, a small rosy ball of lightning glowed to life above Norman. It dipped down to nudge at him, squeaking what sounded like encouragement. It was trying to wake him up, but Norman seemed rather committed to his concussion at the time.

Mr. Brukup almost laughed. Was this the best the mighty Amy could manage within the building? Poor Norman. All that big talk, only to get his organs slurped out of him. Mr. Brukup would do it right in front of her, a final act of spite.

He fanned away a brainfly. It was ruining his moment. Sure, John Crow had bred a special variant with a sting that worked like ten cups of coffee. It helped the landlords shake off the brainflies’ mind-numbing effects … in a really malicious way. Mr. Brukup wasn’t in the mood to get bitten by some uppity bug while basking in his little victory.

The bug moved on and settled on Norman. Amy’s orb yelped and tried to shoo it away. How pathetic.

The bug bit him.

Norman smacked it and jolted to his feet with the half-crazed look of someone who’d been rudely awoken.

Mr. Brukup didn’t move.

It was too dark. There was no way Norman would see him, right? His nightsight was gone, and John Crow’s A.M.E. was like a living shadow. Nyctal night vision was far superior. Mr. Brukup still had a clean shot, and Amy apparently hadn’t noticed him. He slowly raised his keychain.

Norman looked right at him.

Mr. Brukup froze for the third time. He felt silly. It had to be a coincidence. Norman hadn’t spotted him. The guy’s eyes were wide and vacant, like when a blind person knew where to look, but couldn’t see anything. And yet, Norman lifted two fingers to his eyes, before pointing them at Mr. Brukup.

‘I’ve got my eye on you.’

Mr. Brukup chocked back a gasp. How? Impossible! He’d sling the chain anyway!

fweEEEE …

A tiny capacitor whined.

Mr. Brukup noticed something on Norman’s other hand. At the back of his mind, he’d seen him reach into his pocket, but he was a little distracted by Norman’s threat. Had he been duped? Likely. This thing looked like brass knuckles, except with lenses: The kind one would find on electronic lights.

“What are you waiting for?” Norman asked, low and menacing. “If you wanna die, just come.”

… Mr. Brukup didn’t like this one bit.

Amy’s little light rasped a squeaky snarl before emitting a sound suspiciously like blowing a raspberry. It nudged Norman into following it. Norman strode across the room, blindly side-eying Mr. Brukup all the while.

Chills.

Amy’s light hovered over Norman’s backpack, stashed behind John Crow’s trembling easy chair. Norman gave her lightning ball a quick peck on what probably passed as its cheek.

It blushed bright red.

He pulled out a new nightsight and secured it on his head, firing it up. The chat reappeared.

“‘Eyyy, Night Seizers!” Norman grinned. “I’m back.”