Trial of the Mouse

Chapter 17

Defiance

Becky peeked down the empty hallway, her ears alert for any footsteps that would signal that she was either being followed or someone was coming back through her hallway.

All the while, she was thinking of how to get the Scarebeast under control. Okay, so what do I know so far? She asked herself, mentally checking through her plan as she snuck through the halls. I know that Friitawa captured Alice and Jervis a few weeks ago and forced him to build a mind control card strong enough to use on Jonathan when he transformed. Jonathan told me the cards are useless unless there is a controller to use it. So, it would make sense that Friitawa would have the controller on her so that she could control his actions remotely. So, to get Jonathan back to normal, I need to either somehow subdue her and get the controller or jump on Jonathan and get the card out.

She sighed. Both plans sounded like suicide, but that was the only way to revert Jonathan to his normal state and stop Friitawa before she could destroy the entire city. She knew she was already too late to stop some of the city from falling into fear, as the terrified screams and cries outside told her. She willed her leg to move faster, trying to get to him before it was too late.

As she stopped at the end of the hallway, she could see a ladder leading up to the roof. She was thankful that this area had been a small business district before the economic crash, as she could hopefully make it to the top and have enough height to hop onto the Scarebeast once he was near the building and enough width to keep her distance from Friitawa if she decided to engage her.

But another challenge was going to be that ladder in front of her. With her crippled leg, she would have to rely on mostly her arms to pull herself onto each individual rung.

She took a deep breath, and began to climb, her cane hanging by her shoulder as she hung onto the rungs, her limp leg dangling behind her like a tail as she climbed.

Her arms were straining as she climb, but she was determined to press onward. She didn’t know how she knew, but she could feel that Friitawa was waiting for her on the roof. She continued to climb higher, her eyes focused on the higher railings. She knew she would likely freeze if she looked down, and she didn’t have that amount of time to hang there.

She glanced to her side. She could see the nameplates of the levels of the building, and she knew that she had a long way to go before she would reach the top.

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Friitawa looked in gleeful triumph as she watched the Scarebeast trample the towering skyscrapers of Gotham City. From her perch on the roof, she could see the progress that her new pet was making as he rampaged across the city.

Police sirens wailed in the night amid the sounds of people screaming in terror as fear gas filled the air as she took in a deep breath, reveling in the sounds of screams as countless people tried to flee from the terror she had wrought upon this city.

Even the Caped Crusader and his friends, the Justice League, could do nothing to stop it. Even Superman, know throughout the cosmos as the Man of Steel, was powerless against Scarebeast’s noxious Fear Gas, his powers going out of control as he battled the unseen terrors in his mind, destroying anything in his path as the others tried to curb his powerful eyebeams and super strength.

Everything was going perfect. The Justice League was incapacitated, Jonathan was under her control, and the city was falling to its knees in defeat. Soon, she would prove herself worthy of not just Jonathan’s fear, but also everything and everyone’s in the world and throughout the cosmos. She could feel excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of such power.

“Hmm, it seems you are as much of a tenacious nuisance as I’ve heard, Rebecca,” she replied, sensing the girl’s presence from her perch on the rooftop.

“What can I say? I’m hard to get rid of,” Becky replied, her cane ready and curved at Friitawa’s back, scythe opened and ready to slice.

The albino turned her head. “So it seems.” She held out her hands to the sky, basking in the fear radiating off the city. “Isn’t it glorious, Rebecca? All those people screaming in agony and fear, unable to run away, unable to fight, just succumbing to the inevitable terror that claims us all.”

“There’s nothing glorious about it, Friitawa. Those people are dying down there!” she cried, watching in horror as the Scarebeast stomped down on a red convertible, smashing it into pieces with one blow of his foot as the thing continued to tramp onwards towards his goal, his teeth-filled maw calling her name as fear filled his eyes, while he could do nothing to stop its own rampage. Fear gas crawled like fog upon the streets of Gotham, screaming and sirens filling the night in an unholy cacophony of terror.

“What of it? They are weak, pathetic sheep that do nothing but serve the wolves that they are under. Why should they have anything but what sheep are good for? A slaughter.”  She turned to face the girl. “Why do you even care? You should be enjoying this with me. I know Jonathan would. After what they did to us, Rebecca, they deserve what is coming to them.”

“No, they don’t. None of us do,” she snarled. “Not me, not Jonathan, not anyone. A world living in fear will collapse in on itself. People will be tearing each other apart from the inside out. Only a few, if any, will survive.”

“But that’s how the world works, isn’t it, Rebecca? It’s Survival of the Fittest, after all. And I know I am the fittest of this whole lot.” She started to chuckle, as she reached into her lab coat’s pocket and pulled out a circular rod. She pressed a button on its side, and it unslid to reveal a long, black and white scythe. “But, I’ll, at least, give you a little chance to fight. After all, fear is all the sweeter by crushing what remains of hope.”

With a roar, Friitawa surged towards Becky, aiming right for her throat. Becky ducked her head out of the way of the woman’s blow, parrying with her scythe as Friitawa unleashed a flurry of attacks on her at almost inhuman speed.

Becky leapt out of the way as quick as she could, Friitawa’s scythe scraping upon hers as she backed away, unable to counterattack without providing an opening for the albino to attack.  

“Is that all you can do, dear plucky Becky?” she asked mockingly, as the girl struggled to get up. As the woman taunted her, Becky flicked one of her fear bombs towards her, blinding her enough to strike back, only to find that Friitawa parried her blows perfectly, not even appearing to be alarmed or even struggling against her blows.

“Pathetic,” Friitawa exclaimed, knocking Becky back with the handle of her scythe, the scythe/cane sent flying off the roof and sending Becky teetering precariously over the side of the roof, struggling to keep her balance. Before she slid off the edge, the albino grabbed her by her throat, holding her high above the edge of the roof and threatening to drop her into the glass vat of chemicals full of the mutagen below her, which, with enough exposure, would melt her skin and bones until it was nothing but paste. “So, Rebecca Albright, how does it feel to know that the last thing you hear will be your precious Jonathan screaming?”

With a snarl, Becky spat in her face. “Go. To. Hell!” she ground out, her eyes staring defiantly at the monster before lashing out with her good foot, kicking Friitawa in the stomach as the albino let her go, sending her falling towards the ground far below her.

Friitawa’s surprised expression was the last thing Becky saw as she fell to her death, her vision fading to black as she heard the crash of her head hitting the aged bricks of the other building and the shattering of glass all around her, and then all was silent.

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Friitawa looked down at the body of Becky Albright below her, tisking slightly. “Shame. I would have wanted that fight to last a bit longer.” She turned away, going back to observe her magnificent beast destroy the city.  

Then, she stopped. A sudden thought had just hit her. She had only tested out the prototype of the formula on herself. The toxin she developed and had tested on her goons had been with the other steroids and DNA mixed in. The batch she had currently, which Becky had crashed into, was the one where she had mixed both her serum and the one she had tested on the Scarecrow. As she had never combined them before, she had no idea what was going to happen. But even if the chemicals somehow bonded with her bloodstream, a fall like that, at that trajectory, would have killed her. After all, it’s not like the serum could restore life. Could it?