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Author's Note: Here's Ch. 12, finally time to change the pic. I think I'm really proud of this chapter, it's the one I've been waiting to write for a while now. Kudos to anyone who can tell me who Number One is. :) I'd like to thank djkauf for the editing and DC Comics for the characters. Pic Update: I edited the pic that appears here, to remove something that shouldn't belong on her chest---well right now anyway.

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Chapter Twelve:

“Why do I have wear this?” I asked, trying to cover up my bare midriff.

Onyx didn’t say a thing. Instead, she spun her wooden stick and smacked me in the knuckles. It stung. I moved my hands. The outfit in question was nearly identical to hers except it was purple. Last night after she dropped that bomb on me about turning me into the city’s protector, she told me to go home. She said she wanted to see me as soon as school got out. I tried to tell her I had a job at Leslie’s but she wouldn’t hear about it. She then said she’d make arrangements. I’m not sure what kinds of arrangements they were until I got a call from Leslie this morning: apparently, she had a brand new nurse working there and she didn’t need me to come in. It scared me that Onyx was on top of things as much as she was.

That scared me a bit. Here was a woman who knew pretty much all about me and it seemed she had a lot of connections. She was also in league with a creepy computer Hacker that seemed to know everything I was doing. So you can see I had grounds not to trust her. Looking at her now---standing there with her wooden staff, her hands wrapped in boxer’s tape---there was reason to fear her. Especially when I showed up today and she had this outfit waiting for me. I don’t know how she knew purple was my color but the idea of wearing it freaked me out.

I was still rubbing my knuckles when she started walking around me. When she got behind me, the staff slapped hard against my back. “Bad posture” she said, causing me to snap to attention.

I was definitely taking that stick from her.

“I’m going to be in the hospital if you keep on smacking me that hard”

She smiled when she got in front of me again. “In order for me to teach you anything you need to learn how to carry yourself better.”

“I thought I was.”

She swung her stick again but this time I reacted. It was another split second thing like last night when she threw the knife at me. My hand came up and I blocked the blow with my forearm. If she was impressed, she didn’t show it. Instead, her foot lashed out from the other side, driving into my exposed legs, taking me down hard to the mats. Hitting the mats knocked the wind out of me and it took me a few minutes to recover. Onyx didn’t move to help me. I slowly pushed myself to my feet, glaring at her. I definitely hated this woman now.

“Let go of that hate,” she said curtly. “Anger will not help you in a fight. Anger is a weakness that causes men to do stupid things.”

I frowned and nodded. I’d seen a lot of people fight in anger---too many in fact. They came in swinging like wild men and in the end; they tired themselves out far too fast.

Onyx walked around me again. “You have weak posture, very little muscle mass and no strength to speak of.”

I groaned. Hit me where it hurts why don’t you.

“But” she continued. “You have a lot of speed and great concentration. You’re agility is top notch too, as well as your reflexes. Normally I would compensate by showing you offensive martial arts but in your case I think we shall play to your strengths.”

I nodded. “What are those exactly?”

She didn’t answer that question. Instead, she told me what she was going to do. “In your case, defense might be the best way to go. I’m going to start with Aikido, which will help you subdue your attacker without too much bodily injury to him. From there I’ll move onto Feng Shou, a form of soft style martial arts that will help you quite nicely.”

Then we began. First, it was all about learning the techniques. I didn’t catch on at first but after an hour or so, I started to pick it. I think I impressed her some. She said I was a fast learner. I think it helped that I had a lot of gymnastic training. It also helped that I seemed a lot more flexible than I ever was as Steven. It was amazing how my body could move now, bending and twisting in ways that I never knew it could. I was agile too, able to do more flips and jumps than ever before. I couldn’t help but think about the fire in the warehouse---the one that started all this. I had been moving and jumping incredibly back then as well. I wonder if that was the beginning of my Meta powers starting to manifest themselves.

I spent about five hours with Onyx as she drilled me on the various techniques of Aikido. We finished about eight then I was able to get dressed and go home. By the time I got my normal clothes on my body was sore---if felt like I’d been pulled in several different directions at once. When I was leaving, Onyx told me she wanted me to exercise at home. She said I needed to turn my flab into muscle if I ever wanted to do anything productive. She gave me an exercise regimen and made me promise to stick with it.

That night when I got home I crashed on the couch, falling asleep without dinner. For the next few weeks, I practiced every day. When I wasn’t with Onyx, I was exercising. She also gave me a strict diet to stick to. It was a pain at first but it was helping. After a week, I started to see results as muscle tone started to appear. The training was grueling---I got smacked several more times by her stick---but it was worth it. I finally got away from the techniques. Then we moved onto the actual martial arts itself. I’m not going to say I was a savant but I took to it really quickly. I’m not sure if it was my Meta power working or not but Aikido seemed to be made for me. After every training session, she made me spar with her. I was still nowhere near as good as her but I was getting better with each day.

When not training, I exercised. I split my time up between a local gym, a little workout room I set up in the basement and the park. I did mainly running in the park, using the track they had there to my advantage. I wasn’t the only one either. The first few times I had run, I was alone. Then another girl started to show up, too. She was an amazing runner; it was like she was built for it. She was built for a lot more too. She was in great physical condition like her body was crafted to be a super athlete. She had a great one too---her body I mean. Tall, lean and tight. It made me kinda jealous but seeing as she was blonde too, I felt connected to her in a way.

After the first few times, I started trying to keep up with her. A little healthy competition never hurt anyone. But she always left me in the dust. After a week though, she slowed down. Neither of us spoke to one another so I didn’t even know her name but it didn’t matter. She was a running partner and I liked that. Running with her sorta became routine and I was getting better. I was nowhere near as fast as her---probably never would be---but it was cool that she let me attempt to run with her. Us mere mortals---me ---running with the Gods---her.

After three weeks of Aikido and Feng Shou, Onyx dropped a bomb on me.

“You’re really getting the hang of things, I think we can move onto the next part,” she said, walking with her staff behind her back, her usual casual stance when she wasn’t trying to hit me with it.

I nodded, huffing after trying to beat her again. “What’s next?”

“I’m still going to teach you the soft styles but I’ve been giving it a lot of thought,” she said, pulling the staff out from behind her back. “I think you might adapt very well to a little weapons training.”

“Weapons?”

She nodded. “You want to help people don’t you?”

More than ever. But I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I just nodded.

Onyx smiled. I’m not sure I liked that smile.

_____________________________________

Training with Onyx seemed to be the only thing I did anymore besides school. That and exercising. The rest of the world seemed to disappear for me. My social life kinda suffered because of it. Uncle Jim was happy that I had found something to do---I told him I was keeping my body in shape; he approved. Barbara liked that I was doing something with my free time. Jen was the only one who knew the real reason I was doing what I was doing. At first, she was a bit annoyed that I was spending all my time becoming a “Well Oiled Fighting Machine”---her words not mine. But she came around quickly. In fact, she was into it more than I was. She told me that she was going to help me anyway, she could.

I was leaving my third period class when she caught me in the hall.

“Steph” she said, huffing up behind me.

I heard her coming a mile away. Besides the martial arts, Onyx was teaching me to be aware of my environment. It was a bit paranoid but she said you never knew when someone might try to ambush you. So I heard Jen coming the moment she left her classroom, three doors down from mine. I knew it was her from the distinct tap of her shoes and the flap of her long flowing skirts. Onyx would set up drills where she’d blindfold me and then attack me. The goal was that I had to use my other senses to tell where she was coming from. At first, I sucked at it really bad. I got sticked a lot. The other day though, I actually heard her. Contrary to what I originally thought, she does make noise when she walks. It’s slight because she walks in a catlike way, barely making a sound. But I was able to hear her and manage to dodge her first blow before I got cocky and she put me on the ground.

But I was learning.

I snapped around to face Jen, she was still in mid-run. She had to slide to a halt so as not to crash into me. I put my arms out and grabbed her wrists, stopping her almost immediately. She huffed and puffed and thanked me.

“Maybe you should come running with me” I said which she stuck her tongue out at me.

Then we laughed.

We continued walking down the hall, laughing about her inability to exercise. I noticed something today that I hadn’t noticed before. Guys were checking me out. I guess they did before but today there seemed to be a lot of eyes on me for some reason. The only thing I could think of was that my body was starting to finally shape up. It was a long way from being as toned as say Onyx or my friend the Mystery Runner but it was getting there. It made me feel good to have their eyes on me. It also made me wonder why I hadn’t landed any of them yet. Not that there weren’t a few likely candidates. There was a boy in my English Class who asked me out the other day but I was too busy training, so I had to turn him down. There was also a guy in Math class who kept trying to get my number---but he was slimy.

But every time I thought of a guy only one came into mind and to think of him made my skin crawl.

Fourth period for me was Physics. For Jen it was Art. Not that seniors really had Art like normal underclassmen. This Art class was Design, meant for kids who wanted to pursue a career in Art later in life. Whereas I always dreamed of going into law enforcement, Jen wanted to be an Artist. A fashioner designer actually. When we were kids she used to spend hours drawing girls in different dresses. She was really good at it, even then. She once made her own dress and made me model it for her. It wasn’t bad---for a ten year old.

“I’ll see you at lunch” I turned to leave her when she grabbed my arm.

“This is why I was running toward you,” she said, pulling me into the classroom.

I didn’t like the Art room. It smelled like paint and plaster. Jen dragged me past several paint splattered drawing tables to some lockers in the back of the room. She opened her’s and pulled out her sketchbook. She locked it up there in the morning and took it home with her each night. When she finally let go of my arm I followed her over to one of the desks. She dropped the book down gently and took a seat on the stool. Then she flipped through it, going by dress design after dress design, until finally coming to a few pages in the back of the book. From looking at the first one, I could tell they weren’t dresses. I inwardly groaned. Ever since I decided to tell her about wanting to make a difference, all she wanted to do was create a costume for me.

I thought I’d told her no but apparently she decided to go ahead anyway.

“I thought we talked about this,” I said as she flipped through the hero sketch pages, all the girls bearing a striking resemblance to me.

“You talked, I pretended to listen.”

I frowned but continued to look at the book. At least I could humor her. There were some really nice ones though. I put my hand on a page that showed a drawing of a figure---its face was covered in a black mask---decked out all in purple with black gloves and boots. There was this real cool hooded cape that made her look real wicked. Underneath Jen scrawled: Purple? No More Purple. I frowned at her and she smiled. She flipped a few pages and finally stopped. The figure she stopped on had a lot of potential. It was an interesting design. The figure was decked out all in black---skintight leather maybe---with a cape and a cowl of some sort. The cowl covered most of the figure’s face, leaving her eyes and mouth exposed. It was a sinister look. It looked like a figure that might strike fear into the hearts of criminals everywhere.

“This is the one,” she said, taping the picture with her finger.

“The one what?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your costume stupid.”

“You’re serious?” She nodded. “You want me to wear that?”

“I think it’s kinda sexy.”

I couldn’t argue with that. But I wasn’t exactly ready for that stage yet. Not that that stopped Jen. She started talking. Apparently, she had some of it already made. It turns out she was able to buy a black leather cat suit from a store around the corner---selling left over Halloween costumes. I can’t believe I forgot all about Halloween. It was November third now and yet I was so caught up in training that it completely passed me by. I felt bad about that, Jen and I used to go out every year. She made the costumes and I found the best houses. We might have been a little old the last few years but it was still fun. It worked that I was so short and flat chested---at least I used to be---people used to think Jen was the older sister taking me Trick or Treating.

“Hello Steph, are you even listening?” she asked, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I shook my head. “What were you saying?”

She gave me her frustrated look. “I think we should do this tonight.”

“Do what?”

She rolled her eyes. “The hero thing. I’m almost finished with the costume, just have to work on the cape a bit. I should have it done by tonight.”

I sighed. Once Jen got going, there was no stopping her. I just let her talk and tuned out most of it. I looked down at the picture again and smiled. I think I could make that look work.

_____________________________________

I took a deep breath and it’s all I could do. The suit---my costume---left little for anything else. I used to make fun of girls who tried to hard by wearing tight clothes and attracting attention to themselves. But never again. When I saw the drawings in Jen’s sketchbook earlier today, I thought they looked kinda cool and sexy. But seeing it on paper and in real life on were two different things entirely. After I agreed to give it a try in the classroom Jen was ecstatic, it was all she could talk about the rest of the school day. When the day ended, she was eager to race back home and start finishing it. Me, I hopped into my car and drove to Onyx’s. After a few grueling hours of her kicking my ass I was ready to call it quits until my cell rang.

Jen wanted me to try on what she created. So I grudgingly drove to her house. When I got there, her grandparents were already in bed. It was only ten but they were old. I had to climb the fire escape and go in through Jen’s window. She had everything waiting for me. I had to admit when I saw it all laid out on the bed I did think it was pretty cool. It definitely looked like something a superhero might wear. So when she talked me into trying it on I was happy to do so. Suffice to say, it took the two of us to get me into the leather. To say it was tight was an understatement. At least it seemed to breathe which was a good thing. But I could barely breathe which in my opinion is not so good.

“You just need to break it in” she told me.

“Break it in?”

She nodded. “I have just the thing too.”

That’s when she showed me the paper. The front-page article was about the Thrill Threat but on page two, there was an interesting story. Apparently, someone broke into a Joke Store and instead of emptying out the cash register and safe, they stole all the merchandise. They didn’t even touch the cash. It was actually the third in a series of bizarre crimes. The only evidence that the police seemed to find was a strange hair fiber and in one case, a bit of white material that turned out to be face paint. I suppose it takes all kinds. Well Jen talked me into investigating. So I put on the cape and cowl and went out the window. I felt like a total idiot, crawling up onto the roof but she insisted.

She also insisted she had a pretty good place where the robber might strike next. There was a novelty shop two blocks from her apartment. According to her digging, it was the fourth in a row. She figured the robber was going in a line, hitting one place after another. Me, I thought it was a waste of time but I decided to humor her anyway. So that’s how I found myself hopping from her roof onto the building next door, finding that I moved surprisingly well in the tight leather. It was a bit restricting but it was a lot better than I thought. I found that wearing this outfit, I could see my new muscles a little better and it clung so tightly to my body that it showed up curves that I didn’t even know I had. Though it was a bit embarrassing, it was also a bit sexy too.

The only thing I didn’t like were the boots. Knee high and with a two inch heel, not exactly the smartest thing to wear in a situation like this. But they were the only thing that Jen had---left over from last year’s Halloween costume when she hammed it up as a sexy witch. I suppose I could deal with the boots, they weren’t too bad. The cape was going to be a problem though. I tried to talk her out of it but she insisted. She had it made me look dark and sinister. It was cool looking but on paper only. In the real world, it blew in the wind too much and got in my face. It wasn’t exactly light either, dragging behind me like a giant black blanket---though it was made of a lot thinner material.

I took another deep breath, inching closer to the edge of the building. After jumping from roof to roof, I finally found myself across the street from my target. Bozo’s Boutique, complete with a giant clown head sign. I remember seeing that during the day and being kinda freaked about it. But at night---the clown head’s white face seemed to glow in the streetlights and its eyes were large and menacing. I have this thing about clowns. I’m not afraid of them but they give me the creeps. I couldn’t help but shiver when I stared at it.

A buzzing soon added to that shiver. At first, I freaked until I realized it was my phone.

I reached to my belt and pulled it from one of the little pouches there. The belt was Jen’s idea too. She made it a few days ago, said I needed something to carry my stuff in. When I asked her what “stuff” she was referring too, she shrugged. There were about seven or eight little pouches on the same thing. One of them had a small can of mace, the other a pair of plasticuffs. A third one had a penlight. The others weren’t filled except for the one that had been vibrating a few seconds ago.

I flipped open the phone. “Yes Mother, I’m here," I said, knowing it was Jen.

“Any action yet?” she asked excitedly.

I groaned. “I just got here.”

“Oh” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “You’ll call me if anything cool happens right?”

I groaned again. “What are you expecting to happen?”

“I don’t know... cool stuff.”

I rolled my eyes. “If anything cool happens, I’m calling the police. I shouldn’t even be out here. The last time I got caught on a rooftop, I was nearly roasted alive, remember?”

There was a long silence. “I thought you wanted to help people?”

She had a point. This had been my idea to begin with. She was only helping me to achieve my goal. That night when I followed my father and almost got killed I was a normal human being. Now I was something else, something greater than me. And even though I didn’t have a handle on all my Meta stuff, yet I knew I was a lot more than what I was before. But I wasn’t ready for this. I’d only been training with Onyx for a few weeks, which hardly qualified me for being a heroine. I’m not sure how long Bruce had been training but it was clear that he actually knew what he was doing. Hell, the Roving Ravager even looked like a professional compared to me. Me, I was an overly ambitious girl who wanted to play hero to help punish people who hurt my friend.

I already failed doing that once already. I sighed. I wonder how Jen would react if I told her this was all a bad idea? It would break her heart but there was no way I could do this. I wasn’t Bruce after all…

I sighed. “Look Jen, I’m sorry…” I started to say but was interrupted by a scream.

It was loud and shrill, shattering my whole core. I clutched the phone tightly. It was a woman and she sounded like someone was murdering her. My heart started to hammer in my chest and my palms started to sweat. Someone was in trouble, someone who needed help.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Jen but I’ve gotta go.”

I didn’t wait for her to say anything before I clicked off the phone. I didn’t bother to return it to its pouch as I ran to the other end of the building, away from Bozo’s. I ran for the source of the scream. When I got to the edge, I found myself peering down into the alley. In the dim light I could just make out a woman---on her back now---sobbing uncontrollably. Approaching her was a tall shirtless bald man. He raised his hand and the light glinted off the blade of a knife. It also seemed to glint off his alabaster skin. What I saw took me a moment to register. At first, I thought they were thousand of little tattoos. Then I realized they were actually cuts, lots and lots of little cuts. Some of them were little lines while others were groups of lines---four with a diagonal slash through them. Almost as if he was marking his body, taking count of something. Seeing those marks on his body sent a cold chill down my spine. I gripped the edge of the building with my gloved hand, a fury building inside of me.

“Somebody please” the woman screamed.

I dropped off the roof, landing catlike on the fire escape below, never making a sound. I guess my training with Onyx was paying off after all. Now that I was closer I could see things a little better. The woman was a mess, her makeup ruined, her silky white blouse torn, revealing a green satin bra underneath. She was wearing only one shoe and her stockings were torn. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on here. That only made my blood boil more.

“Please don’t do this,” she sobbed, backing up until she couldn’t anymore.

Her back was to a dumpster now, the scarred psychopath nearly on top of her.

“Shut up bitch,” he snarled, his voice feral.

He reached out for her but she struggled, kicking and tossing. He bent down, trying to pry her legs open.

“No please” she sobbed.

“Shut up and be a good Number 567.”

That did it for me. I threw the only thing I had which happened to be my phone. It spun through the air, smacking the son of a bitch in the back of the head. It was crude but effective but I definitely needed to get some of those things like Bruce. As soon as the phone hit him, I dropped off the fire escape. I heard the sound of hard plastic on flesh as it echoed down the alley. The only other sounds were her crying and his gasping in pain. But it had the desired effect. As soon as the phone hit the ground behind him, he spun around to face me. The woman was completely forgotten.

I locked eyes with her for a moment then with him. His eyes were cold and lifeless, the eyes of an animal.

He rubbed the back of his head. “That was a stupid thing to do.”

I didn’t say a thing. Which I think pissed him off even more. I saw another glint in the light as a second blade appeared in his other hand. Then he came at me, moving faster than I thought. It was a one two combination, one knife jab then another. My super agility kicked in there. I turned, grabbing the end of the cape as I did so. I flapped it in front of me in an arch, tearing the knife out of his left hand. The knife in his right---clearly his dominant hand---went right for my chest. It grazed the leather, slicing through. I’m not sure if it cut flesh or not but seeing as a scalpel couldn’t I was guessing the latter. When I didn’t gasp in pain, he was shocked for a second.

I launched a counterattack. Onyx’s martial arts training was all about using the opponents own force against him. It was about using his offense and turning it into your defense. He pulled back with his right hand, prepping for another strike and I waited for it. I caught his wrist, twisting up and pulling his body into me. I slapped the flat of my hand into his nose, hearing bone crack. He screamed out in pain. I twisted his arm, the knife clattered to the ground. Then I drove my knee into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The knee wasn’t one of Onyx’s moves, it was one of opportunity. It made sense, given the situation. I had him close and it felt right. It worked too. He gasped and nearly collapsed in my arms. But he was twice my size and having him fall on me wasn’t wise.

I pushed him back, slapping both of my open palms into his chest. He stumbled backwards. Then I leaned in, slamming my shoulder into him for good measure. I dropped him onto his back. I didn’t wait for him to move again. I dropped on him, putting my knee in his throat. I held him there but he wasn’t really in any position to struggle. While I held him, I opened one of my pouches and pulled up the plasticuffs. I stepped off him, flipped him over and cuffed his hands behind his back. The whole time my heart was racing. I was scared to death.

I leaned in, my mouth centimeters from his ear. “I guess that makes you Number One.”

I heard a sob. I snapped around. The woman was still lying with her back against the dumpster, the look of terror on her face lessened somewhat. I took a deep breath and approached her slowly. She flinched, afraid that I was going to come after her too. Instead, I bent down and picked up my cell phone, hoping it wasn’t busted. When I put it back in my pouch, I turned back to her, raising my hands so my palms faced her.

“Do you have a phone?”

She nodded numbly.

I smiled. “Call 911; tell them someone tried to rape you.”

She nodded again. She bent down to fumble into her purse. That’s when I decided to bolt. I didn’t exactly want to be around when the cops showed up. Too many questions that I wasn’t willing to answer. I ran back for the fire escape, jumping up with ease. I caught the bottom and flipped up, rolling up and over. I landed in one fluid motion then ran up the small bit of wall and back onto the roof. I stood on the roof---in the shadows---until I heard the siren. When I saw the police officer appear at the other end of the alley, I knew my job was finally done. An overwhelming sense of accomplishment filled me as well as dread. I could have been killed but that woman’s safety outweighed my own by a hundred percent. But it felt good to help her, as if it was what I was meant to do.

I smiled. Then turned and ran off down the roof, heading back in the direction I came.

___________________________________

It was nearly midnight when I got to the house but thankfully Uncle Jim wasn’t home. I still decided it might not be such a good idea going into the house dressed in a black leather suit, so I backed in the driveway and went up the back way. When I say back way I meant I scaled a tree in the backyard and went in through one of back bedroom windows. It didn’t take much and thankfully Uncle Jim kept them unlocked. As soon as I got into the house, I crept to my room. It took me a while to pull off the suit but it was worth it in the end. I was down to my bra and panties, the thing was too tight to wear anything else. I sat on the edge of the bed, my body covered in a sheen of sweat. I was breathing heavily, my heart still pumping. The whole time I drove home, I thought I was going to get noticed. After all, it’s not every day that a girl drives down the street wearing a black cat suit. But no one even looked my way.

Sitting on the bed, it was an overwhelming mix of fear and excitement. On one hand, I just did something incredible, but on the other, I was scared to death of it. I think I had just done one of the craziest things in the world and yet it was such a rush. I felt alive tonight, especially when I kicked that son of a bitch’s ass. Never before in my life had I felt like I was meant to do something. It was still a bit scary though. I fingered the slash on the side of the costume, the place where the knife cut through the leather. I touched my side just in case but I’d been right, there was no mark there. It was a shame he was able to cut the leather so easily but it was an occupational hazard I guess.

I flipped the suit over to stare at the front of it. It was really cool but something didn’t feel right about it. I loved everything, Jen did a fantastic job. When I dropped down off the fire escape and that guy turned around for second I thought he was going to wet himself. But he wasn’t as scared as I would have wanted. I’m not sure what it was but the sight of me didn’t send the same chills done his spine as they did mine. I guess I’d have to work on that.
I stuffed the suit under my mattress. Then I practically collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep before my head hit the pillow.

The ringing of the phone woke me up. I snapped awake, blurry eyed. The phone kept ringing. I blinked and shielded my eyes as the morning sun shone in my face. Morning, when did I fall asleep? I groaned and reached over, lifting up the handset. I cleared my throat before I spoke. “Hello?”

“Steph, oh thank God, I was so worried.”

I sighed. “I’m good Jen, all in one piece.”

There was a moment of silence. “Then that was you last night?”

I nodded. “Yep” then, realization of what she said sunk in. “Wait a minute, what was me?”

She laughed. “It’s all over the news, dummy”
I snatched up the remote and clicked on my little TV. I flipped to the news and saw the alley from last night. It looked so much different in daylight. There was a pretty Asian reporter talking. I turned up the volume.

“It was here last night that Jocelyn Greene was dragged into this alley behind me and was savagely brutalized by a knife wielding assailant,” said the reporter. “Usually in this city that’s the end of the story but not in Jocelyn’s case because she and her assailant weren’t the only ones who went into the alley last night.”

The scene cut to an earlier interview with the woman from last night, a bandage on her forehead. “It was him. He was dressed in black and had a long cape, just like all the papers say. He dropped out of nowhere then he beat the crap out of my attacker. It was him, he’s back.”

The woman looked ecstatic. Me, I frowned. Who did she think I was?

The scene switched back to the reporter. “The only question this reporter has is this: Was it The Bat, the mythical protector of this troubled city, has he finally returned to help the troubled people sleep easy at night once again?”

I clicked off after that. I was floored. They thought…

“Steph, you still there?” asked Jen’s voice in my ear.

I nodded. I forgot I was still on the phone. “They think…” I said into the receiver softly.

I could hear the excitement in her voice. “They think you’re The Bat.”

Author’s note: As I’m sure all of you know, comments are life blood to an author. I’m not begging or demanding, but I certainly would appreciate anything you have to say (or ask). It doesn’t have to be long and involved, just give me your reaction to the story. Thanks in advance...EOF