In the rain, hurried footsteps pattered through the puddles of a dark alleyway. A soaked figure in a jacket ran with bare feet, attempting to flee into the night. In this quarter of the city, there seemed to be little to no power; there was barely any lighting to speak of.
This person traversed the darkness expertly. If you looked closely enough, you would see an animalistic glow to their eyes that resembled that of a cat's. They ran without stopping, but were otherwise silent in their graceful sprint.
Much heavier footsteps came from behind them, denoting the thud of shoes on the wet floor.
"Stop right there!" shouted a woman in the dark. She was the one giving chase, and surprisingly was hot on that person's bare heels. As they rounded a corner, stepping out into a street lit by only a scant few lights, she grabbed her radio and prepared to relay a message.
"This is Delta-24, in pursuit of the suspect along Faraday Avenue, now passing 8th Street."
From the other end, a man's voice hurriedly responded.
"Be advised Delta-24, suspect is considered extremely dangerous. We have detectives en route. Don't get too close."
"Copy that."
Barely winded, the woman continued her chase down the street. Not only was this area dark, it was lifeless. Anywhere else in the city would be full of light and life, even this late into the night, but not here.
The buildings were dead, the streets were dead, and even the night sky seemed dead. It was like a completely different place.
Passing by one of the dim street lights, the officer noticed that the suspect had slowed down. By the time they arrived at another one, a few hundred meters further down the road, the suspect had come to a complete halt.
The officer immediately stopped as well, almost losing her hat.
They both stood in the rain, facing each other, neither side moving an inch. Standing just a few feet apart under the light, the officer could make out a little of the person's features. For one thing, they were most definitely male, and taller than average.
They were mostly thin, but their legs and thighs were impressively shaped. Whoever they were, they were clearly suited for running.
Then, they stepped forward. It was a slow movement, done purposefully so that the officer would see. In response, she took a step back.
This was all he needed to know.
"I recognize you, you know." The man spoke, his voice guttural. "You're one of them. One of the beat cops that actually volunteered to patrol this hellhole. I saw you this morning, right before I killed poor Ms. Harding."
"You just confessed. That's more than enough to take you in. I'm sure once we start digging we might even uncover some more crimes. Wanna do us a favor and confess to those too?"
"Funny, but I don't plan on getting caught."
Just like that, the man vanished. At first, the officer thought he had run off, but her eyes sparkled and she rolled to the side in panic. A clawed hand narrowly missed the back of her neck; she had managed to evade a fatal attack.
"Impressive. That ability just saved your life."
Eyes wide, the officer did not even seem to notice that she had lost her hat. She stared at the sharp claws on the man's hand, and thought about what would have happened if she didn't move.
With a quick movement, she held down two buttons on her radio.
"This is Delta-24. Suspect has engaged-"
Both the rain and the air itself was parted by the man's hand. Yet again, the officer narrowly escaped her death.
"Backup is two minutes out. Be careful, Simmons." There was a trace of worry in that voice that made the last part of the message seem personal. The officer, 'Simmons,' chuckled softly.
"Is that all your ability's good for? Dodging? Jeez, this is annoying."
"You're telling me?"
Again and again, the man attacked with his claws at a speed faster than the eye could see. Yet, each time, Simmons managed to roll or jump out of the way of his attacks, which drove him crazy. After using his insane movement speed consecutively over the course of those two minutes, he was panting and his movements were becoming sluggish.
Finally, there was a whirring sound in the distance. In the darkness, the headlights of the two arriving cars stood out.
"I'm guessing you can only move that fast over short distances, and not constantly. That, coupled with the claws and your physique... You're one of the 'Morphs' aren't you? Cheetah-type, maybe?"
"Tch!"
The man tried once more, but he couldn't even scratch her. Simmons ability- whatever it was- enabled her to get out the way at the very last second. She had already gotten comfortable with his attacks when he had been at top speed, so now that he was so much slower, he was easier to react to.
"Whatever you are, you're definitely not a 'Neonater.' I'd probably be dead right now if you were."
The cars flew toward them, then simultaneously reverse-thrusted, coming to a full stop. Two detectives each came out of those cares, all of them rushing to Simmons' aid.
"Don't move, Felix!"
Felix and Simmons looked over to those detective, but Simmons was far more relieved. She found and picked up her hat, which was no more soaked than she was, and put it back on her head.
Felix looked at her, and in a split second he made his decision. Simmons looked over her shoulder, but then she realized that he wasn't coming at her. He was headed for one of the detectives.
"Watch out!"
Slash!
"Gah!" One of the detective had been cut, but since Felix was so drained, he could not do much more than this.
"Damn you!"
The partner of the detective that had been attacked rushed forward, his hand outstretched. A powerful force like a magnet was created from his actions, and it pulled Felix all the way into his grip. Then, holding onto Felix's throat, the detective slammed him into the wet street.
"That was a stupid move, Felix. A very stupid move."
Before too long, they had Felix placed in suppression cuffs and were shoving him into a car. As for the detective he had cut, the wound wasn't too bad. Once he got it cleaned and patched up, he would be good to go.
"You're Simmons, right? Nice work out here. That ability of yours must be something else."
"It helps every now and then. I was lucky he wasn't one of those Neonaters."
"I hear ya. Street's getting more and more dangerous for us, and the New Gens don't seem to fancy the beat. Anyway, hop in and we can go process this asshole."
Simmons chuckled, adjusting her hat, "Copy that."
"I'm Detective Neil, this is Detective Pierre," the same detective introduced himself as Simmons got in the backseat. Felix was in the other car, with the detective that had pinned him down and the one that he had attacked.
"Nice to meet you, Detective Pierre," Simmons took her hat off and untied her hair. She gave it a little shake after she saw that the screen separating them was up. They wouldn't get wet as long as it was.
"Likewise, Simmons. I heard quite a bit about you from the Captain. She told me she's impressed with your decision to patrol here. Not a lot of rookies volunteer for something like that."
"It's where we're needed most. A lot of shady stuff happens in the Dark. If we don't begin to have a presence here, we'll never make a dent in crime around here."
"That's something you don't hear everyday," Detective Pierre remarked.
"Especially not from a rookie," Detective Neil added, looking over at his partner, impressed.
"I aim to change that ...one day."
"Heh, you didn't sound too confident there."
Simmons gave a small smile, but fell into thought. The rest of the ride was mostly silent, and once they left the Dark, the world itself seemed to brighten. It was like they had entered an entirely new reality; nothing was the same. The buildings were taller and draped in all manner of colors and lights, giant holographic billboards, electronic signs and like.
There was barely even a trace of darkness here, a stark contrast to where they had just come from.
Before long, they got to the station. It looked like a giant box with multiple windows, and was also splendidly well-lit and designed. The cars were parked on either the leftmost or rightmost ends of the compound, and the rest was dedicated to the building and its two entrances. On the very top was a white neon sign that read, 'S.C.P.D.'
Felix was taken inside, and they started to process him. Simmons was in the middle of writing up her report when she heard the telling sound of a transmission coming through. Someone was coming into the station via teleportation, and there were few people that would do this.
All the officers momentarily stopped what they were doing and looked toward the door-shaped gate. Once the transmission was stable enough, the person on the other end would open the door, and step into their destination.
The door opened, and all eyes darted back and forth from it.
A dark-skinned woman with freckles from her eyes to her cheeks entered. Her curly brown hair was pulled into a bun, but a number of strands had come loose, falling to the left side of her face. The skin around her eyes was dark, darker than they should be, and her lips were dry.
She stepped into the station and shut the door, folding her arms and adjusting her posture so her weight shifted to her right leg. She dressed conservatively in an over-shirt, peach-colored undershirt and pants, with a necklace around her neck. The pendant was tucked under her shirt, as she always wore it.
"Captain Callan," one of the officers greeted her, and she nodded. Her pale green eyes scoured the floor until she found who she was looking for.
Simmons gulped.
"Brooke Simmons."
Simmons hurried to her feet, dropping her pen but not bothering to pick it up. A nearby officer bent over and stopped it from rolling, but was unsure if to give it back to her now or later.
"Yes, sir- uh- ma'am- um"
"Sir is fine for now. You're with me."
Simmons grabbed her pen and hurried to where the Captain was standing, uncertainty running through her body.
"Argyle, Henry, two suits are coming over to take Felix off your hands. Give them whatever paperwork you have, understood?"
"Sir."
Those two, Argyle and Henry, were the ones that had taken Felix in the car with them, Henry being the one Felix had attacked. Felix was despondently sitting in his chair, head held low as he reminisced on whatever. With the suppression cuffs, it would take an incredible amount of control over his abilities to be able to use them to escape.
That was something he did not have, because he wasn't what they called a 'Neonater.'
Simmons got to where the Captain Callan was standing and swallowed hard. This woman stood at least a foot above her, which unnerved her even more.
"We need to talk."