I talked about this a lot more on my Instagram stories or in my thread in the official Monster Prom discord server, or if you're curious about her, my askbox is open! 🩷
= Female Amateur Hero x Male Villain Doctor (part 10)
Hero scrambles back, "Wha--what's going on?"
The nunchuck slinger hovers at the end of the dancefloor, waiting like a cat ready to pounce. In the interim, two others jump down near her. One brandishes her brass knuckled fists, while the other swings a metal baseball bat. They can't be older than she is.
Somehow, Hero's always expected that she'd fight big, hulking mercenaries. But seeing girls her age digs a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Have they been put up to this, too?
"I'm--I'm not with them--" she says, gesturing towards the villains, "--they kidnapped me--"
"Shut up." and the girl with the bat swings.
She ducks sharply. The bat whistles over her head. A strobe light shatters and she just narrowly avoids the worst of the falling glass.
"Listen to me! I need help!"
"Don't care," the girl with the high ponytail barks behind her mask. Then she throws a metal-knuckled punch. Hero jerks away. Not fast enough. Thin metal slices her chin. The warm dribble on her skin sends panic up her throat.
"I don't want to fight you!"
She throws a punch. It doesn't land. Doesn't have time to.
"Too late."
Something cold, heavy, and immovable slams against her ribs: the steel bat. Air forces itself backwards from her lungs. She's weightless, falling, strobe lights streaking across her vision like shooting stars.
Then impact.
Her bones crush each other, grinding at the joints. Muscles tense and scream. Her skull whacks the side of the dance pit.
The shooting stars stab her eyes with pain. She's blinded, disoriented. But she senses them closing in. Why are they doing this?
And then she hears it: laughter. Not from the trio, from the onlookers. She's...she's just a sport. Just another slot in their friday night entertainment.
They have no idea who she is: what she can do.
The most pathetic feeling swims in her stomach. Aren't they right, though? She can't do anything, can she? Her powers aren't hers. She's not brave at all. She just wants it to stop. Wants to go home.
As she curls into herself, she's grabbed by the hair. Crying, Hero tries to unhook the claw-like grip but her efforts just draw out more laughs and jeers.
Dragging her across the floor, the ponytail girl throws her against the other corner of the dance pit.
Hero's back slams into the unyielding concrete, sending a searing pain rippling through her head. Desperately, she throws an explosive blast at them. But she's not aiming right. The blast only tears out a few floor pads: inconvenient but hardly lethal.
Voices jeer at her overhead, but her brain feels swollen and heavy.
"Hey! Hey! You're gonna give up? Just like that?" one voice swells over the rest, like a cliff facing down the ocean, "C'mon, Starflower."
Hero forces herself to turn her head. There, just above her at the edge of the pit, crouches Villain.
"You're gonna take this from them?" he asks, that wry smile on his face, "You cooked my chest in seconds and you're gonna let these ripoffs take you down?"
She reaches toward the edge, her shaking fingers barely catching on. Why does he feel so far away?
"There's--there's too many, Doc--" she gasps.
Even with her bleary vision, she sees his grimace at her nickname. "Listen, Starry, there's always gonna be too many. That's why you get help."
He catches her shaking fingers and pulls her to her feet. But not out of the pit.
"Help me up," she begs.
"Give 'em hell first," he says firmly, "I'll be here."
A heavy hand grabs her hoodie. Hero throws her palm at her attacker's face, combusting in their eyes.
"Ack! I'm helping you, you little bitch!"
It's Brute. Hero's dropped to her feet. She fights to keep balance. The room swims around her, agony pounding in her head.
The three girls have recouped. Now, they're even closer.
"Shitshitshit, what do we do?" Hero asks, barely keeping herself from hiding behind Brute.
"Don't know, but I got three pills, two vodkas, and a whole lot of fuck all in me right now," He picks Hero up like a ragdoll, "Can supes still fly?"
Screaming, Hero bodyslams into one with the baseball bat. Dazed, she lurches to grab it, but the girl snatches the bat back. Hero narrowly avoids the first swing. The second catches her thigh. Painfully.
On the third swing, Hero clamps her hands on the fat end of the bat. The girl tries to wrench it out, but Hero follows close.
"Dafuq you gonna do now?" the girl snaps.
"This," and she zaps the bat.
The girl death drops onto the dancefloor. Hero hears a few loud shouts. Some drunken folks think it's part of the dance routine.
Seeing Brute contending with the other two girls--he's not winning--Hero vaults herself out of the pit. Amid the jibes of the onlookers, she stumbles up to the bar.
Seated on a stool, Villain turns to her, a fruity drink in hand, "Here, this is up your alley, isn't it?"
She shoots a glance, instead, at a half-empty whiskey glass beside him, "Is that yours?"
"Yeah?"
No sooner has the word left him, Hero snatches the glass and downs the rest in one gulp. Fire burns through her bloodstream, kicking a new life into her brain. Barely registering the Doctor's horrified confusion, Hero lurches back towards the pit.
"You want a fight?" she yells, electricity pumping into her fingers, "I got one!"
A compounding blast of electro-shocks sends waves through the pit. Sparks, catching the exposed wiring in the bare floor panels, explode like pyrotechnics in the girls' faces. Brute ducks out of the way as the whole floor lights up enough to blind the three young women.
Shouting and cursing, they scramble out of the pit. The bartender swears something in a language presumably only half of the patrons understand.
"You forgot we're crazy, Arn," Villainess calls out, swinging the mic at the end of its cord, "Send more of your worst, you limp-dicked sycophant! Oh, wait--that'd be you, huh?"
Laughs, screams, and fists erupt from the crowd that's left.
And in the chaos that follows, Hero escapes into the bathroom. Locking the door, she plants herself against it, waiting a beat to make sure no one's followed her. Then hunching down next to the toilet, she pulls out the stolen phone she swiped.
Thank god the drunken dude she took it from didn't have a passcode to his old iphone. Desperately, Hero punched in the six digit call.
911*#*
"Pick up…please pick up…"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
previous: part nine
MASTERLIST
next: part eleven
Holy fricking moles, I have fought with this scene for far too long and I'm so proud of myself that it's done! I cannot wait to show y'all what comes next!
