Officer Hardy tightened his grip on his service pistol as he sprinted down the narrow alley, his boots splashing through puddles under the flickering streetlight. His breath came in sharp bursts. His focus locked ahead while his partner, Officer Riggs, huffed close behind, muttering, "Not another damn goose chase..."
"There they are!" Hardy shouted, his voice strained from the chase.
A woman darted ahead and moved with an eerie grace, her long coat billowing behind her like wings. Beside her stood a shorter, stockier man, his hood obscuring most of his facial features and his arm wrapping around the neck of a teenage girl.
Tiny tremors rippled around the poor girl's arms as if her body were recoiling against his touch. Tears streaked her cheeks, and her chest rose and fell in erratic sobs, her eyes darting toward the officers.
Hardy skidded to a halt, raising his weapon. "Stop right there." His hands shook as he leveled the gun, and his breath hitched as he met the girl's tear-filled gaze.
The woman didn't stop. She turned slightly, just enough for them to glimpse her pale face and piercing eyes.
Hardy's heart pounded. He forced his voice to be steady. "I said stop. Don't make this worse for yourself."
The man pulled the girl closer to him. "The hawk doesn't bargain with the mouse."
"Quiet," the woman interrupted. She glanced at him briefly, her malicious gaze silencing whatever threat he had been about to make. She turned to face them fully, her sleek, metallic polearm held loosely at her side.
The officers exchanged a glance before Riggs fumbled to his holster. "Drop your weapon and release the hostage."
The man holding the girl sneered. "Ah, but don't you see? The storm doesn't release the branches. It snaps them. It's nature's way."
The woman tilted her head before stepping forward. "Do you even know what you're trying to save? Or are you just playing the part of heroes because the uniform tells you to?"
Riggs's patience snapped. He fired. The bullet sliced through the fog, but before it could hit its mark, the woman charged ahead, her coat flaring with each shift in her position. Her polearm spun in a blur of silver light, deflecting it with a metallic clang.
Hardy followed suit, sending a volley of bullets hurtling toward her, but in vain. Each one ricocheted off her weapon, sparkling against the alley walls.
Riggs's hands began to tremble, his knuckles white while his voice wavered. "Chester... what are we dealing with here?"
The woman surged forward in a blur, closing the distance between them in seconds. Her polearm arced through the air, striking Chester's gun and sending it spinning out of his grip and clattering onto the rain-slick pavement.
Hardy gasped as his weapon flew from his hand. He dropped to his knees, the cold rain soaking into his uniform as he scrambled toward the fallen pistol.
Riggs staggered back as cold sweat dripped from his forehead to his eyebrows. The woman dashed to him in an instant. She knocked his pistol aside and brought the blade of her weapon to his throat, the cold steel brushing against his skin.
Her cerulean eyes locked onto him, freezing him in place. "You're out of your depth, officer. This fight isn't yours to bear."
Riggs bowed, struggling for breath. "Please, have mercy, I have a daughter at home."
The woman glanced at him from head to toe. "Spare me the theatrics." She took a sudden step forward and drove her knee into his chest, forcing him backward. Riggs stumbled, tripping over her outstretched foot, and landed hard on his side; the air knocked from his lungs as he writhed on the ground.
The hooded man chuckled as he rested his hand on the cane's hilt. "Begging won't help you here, lad."
She turned her head toward him and narrowed her eyes. "Enough. Grab the girl, and let's go before we draw more attention."
Hardy's eyes were on the whimpering hostage. "Please, let her go. She's just a child."
A smirk tugged at the corner of the woman's lips. "Just a kid? She's the spark to ignite a fire you can't even begin to comprehend. And she's coming with us."
Chester's hand trembled inches from the radio on his vest. His pulse raced as adrenaline surged through him, but the closer he got to activating the transmitter, the more his body rebelled.
Before he could speak into the radio, it shattered, the sharp crack echoing through the alley as its pieces fell to the ground. The officer's fingers tightened involuntarily around the device's remains, but they were useless now—just jagged shards of plastic and metal.
"Your devices won't work against us," she said. Then, she gently twirled the weapon in her hand with a flick of her wrist. "Radio waves are trivial to manipulate."
Chester's mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. Her power, ease, and control were all too much for him. He lowered his jaw to the ground, his palms gripping the pavement tightly. "You won't get away with this."
The man's laugh spilled out again, harsh and rasping, as he reached out to pat Hardy mockingly on the cheek. The officer flinched at the touch, and the man guffawed again. "Get away?" he said while trying to contain his amusement. "The raven doesn't flee the field; it feasts from the corpses of the weak."
And so, the pair vanished into the shadows, and the girl's muffled cries faded, swallowed by the alley's darkness. Chester could only stare into that darkness, with the rain coming down on him in heavy sheets. "Father, I'm sorry. I've failed you."