Disclaimer:
"This is fan fiction for the Whateley Academy series. It may or may not match the timeline, characters, and continuity, but it's fan fiction so I hope it's forgivable."

Theresa, Kota and I were watching the news to see how my parents were doing. When the explosion rocked the building, the two girls screamed, I took it in stride. It hadn't taken the building down, so Mom was probably all right. Seeing Eddie battered and his manifested shell leaking what he called his shock gel, come flying through a brick wall and hitting the building on the other side of the street had me start to panic. I don't like the guy, but he's a three hundred kilo bug, whoever was strong enough to do that was not someone I wanted my parents fighting.

Two minutes later when the roof exploded, and... something came flying out, followed twenty seconds later by Mom jumping out of the building and running after it, and I was on the edge of my seat.

Then the alarms went off.

Police came running in. “Estelle, come with me,” a lieutenant who was in charge of general security that day said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. Other officers began to usher Kota and Theresa out of the room and not in the same direction.

“What's going on?” I demanded.

He didn't slow down to answer as we jogged to the elevator surrounded by heavily armed officers. “We believe a summoned entity is coming for you. You're being put into a safe room until it can be stopped.”

That shut me up and I actually began running faster than him. The staff was going into emergency procedures, the general workers going to the safe room which could withstand an explosion that would take down the building, and the guards who were heading for the armoury. Visitors to the gallery and gift shop were being hustled out through emergency exits leading straight into the police station.

I knew from the emergency test runs, that this section was being sealed off from the rest of the building, giving the police time to prepare the SWAT teams. This was the first time that anyone other than a few crazy people armed with basic weapons, had actually planned on attacking the building. With the heroes and defenses in place, along with the police and their heavy weapons, only the biggest villains would want to risk it, and Edmonton is too small and unimportant for the big villains to bother with. The biggest attack was by Dr. Diabolic almost fifteen years ago, which my parents really didn't like talking about, and that was mostly a simple smash and grab on a citywide scale.

So everyone was looking worried as we headed downstairs to a very secure basement, that was primarily used to hold very dangerous supervillains in isolation. Before the elevator was halfway down we heard a screech that couldn't be made from anything on earth.

The radio came to life, telling police where to go, asking if I was secure yet, ordering anyone who wasn't suppose to fight the thing to get away from the top floor, avoid stairwells, and the elevator. Then we heard the screams and gunshots over the radio as officers called for reinforcements.

I grabbed the lieutenants arm and pressed myself against him as if he could protect me from whatever that thing was. He and the other officers ignored me, double checking that their guns were in place, feeling their body armour, muttering prayers, getting ready to die.

The second the elevator door opened, we ran down the hall. Steel vault like doors slammed shut behind us, I could feel the electricity being turned on, making them lethal to the touch as soon as they were fully closed. Force fields surrounded them, probably causing brownouts in the city, this section was made to hold the worst possible threats that could kill hundreds or thousands if not contained it had top priority for resources. We reached the end of the hall, where ten officers were already waiting, hastily donning their gear. The cell was open, and I didn't stop running until I was inside, three of the officers joined me. The door slammed shut, the slight flicker of a forcefield surrounded the entire room. There was a chair, a bed, a squat toilet with a shower head above it in the corner.

It was absolutely silent except for the nervous shuffling of feet, the creak of the heavy body armour, and our breathing.

Sitting on the bed, I really wished that Mom and Dad were with me.

The lights flickered, and the room shook. I could hear the sound of gun fire along with some small explosions.

Tapping my belt, I charged myself up to the point where I was feeling giddy. Sparks began to fly off of me, much to the discomfort of the police.

The screeching started again. It sounded close. The lights flickered again and there was the sound of metal being ripped apart, as if it was tinfoil.

'Estelle Georgina Young, by your true name and blood I come to collect,' a voice whispered in my head.

I gave a small cry of fear, looking around the room to see who was talking to me. Backing into a corner, I started whimpering.

Metal shrieked again, and the police outside opened fire. It wasn't controlled firing, but wild, empty the clip as fast as you can hoping something dies firing. It ended very quickly.

'Estelle Georgina Young, I am here,' the voice spoke again.

The door exploded off of its hinges, as if the forcefield wasn't there, cutting a police officer in half. A monstrous hand on an unnaturally long arm appeared through the door. The two surviving officers opened fire. The red mottled arm twisted like a snake grabbing the nearest office by the leg. The man's scream was high pitched and warbling, I covered my ears sliding down.

The monster swung the police officer into his partner. They hit the forcefield and crumpled. The hand felt their bodies, found their necks, inch long talons pierced their throats. The blood seemed to rush out, the hand moved quickly, catching it, absorbing it into the slimy, sickly looking skin.

Screaming, I started to pray, knowing I was going to die.

The body of the thing finally came into view. It looked a little like a sea slug, a long body that moved bonelessly on hundreds of limbs, but the limbs themselves were a parody of real animals. Oversized claws, bloody fur that seemed more like needles, grasping hands that grew and shrank with every step, bug like feet dripping with acid, hooves that were razor sharp cracking the hard steel floor. It came towards me, a dozen hands reaching out to envelop me.

I couldn't think, only react. I sent every bit of energy into a blast that sent it rolling backwards through the doorway, bellowing in pain and anger. The arms became longer, still reaching for me, even as the monster rolled and writhed trying to escape the blast.

Slamming my bracelets against my belt, I let the energy surge around me burning the hands, before they touched my skin. As they recoiled, I sent another blast at the creature, catching it in the gaping maw.

It threw its hands in front of its body, slowly moving towards me as if it was fighting a strong wind. As my charge wore down, I hit my belt again, and again and again, my skin was hot and tight. Opening my mouth I hit it with everything I had.

The arms turned into smoking pools of slime, the slimy, leathery skin dried and cracked. But it kept coming. As I started to faint, I felt a hand grab me.

The only thing I remember after that was moving quickly, surrounded by blackness, the smell of blood and gunpowder and Mom screaming my name.

**

Late Afternoon

“We can help you,” Kota said, as Steve packed her suitcase, he was wearing his spare Fly By uniform sans the mask. Theresa already had her things ready to go and was standing awkwardly off to the side.

“I know you want to help, but you're a teenager, not a hero. It's safer and better if you go back to Whateley. As soon as we get Estelle back, we'll phone you to let you hear the good news, but right now it's not safe,” he told her.

Evelyn walked into the room, she was also in her costume without a mask, her face drawn and pale. Moving slowly, she scooped both girls into her arms. “Please, Kota, go back to Whateley. I want you back here for the summer, but right now, I... I need to make sure no one else gets hurt. Please.”

“Ok,” Kota said softly, feeling how Sun's body softly shook as she held back tears. “Don't get hurt.”

“I'll try.”

Two police officers escorted them out of the room so they could catch their plane back to Whateley. Evelyn was grateful the girls wouldn't have to walk through the bloody corridors of the top floor and the basement. There were a few places in between where the demon had found an unlucky person either trying to get to a safe place, or trying to stop it, for most of them they'd be using DNA and dental records to find out who they were, but they were well marked out and easily avoided by a few minor detours.

She went to her husband who was putting on a braver face then she was, but couldn't hide his feelings from her. Hugging him she put her head on his shoulder and tried not to cry. This was all her fault. If she hadn't taken Estelle to the school assembly in Vancouver, she'd be safe at home now. They wouldn't have had their personal lives ripped open. They wouldn't be faced with reporters whenever they tried to go outside. And her baby wouldn't be god alone knew where, helpless and alone.

Steve held her close, but not tightly, breathing on her skin but not touching her. Just letting her pretend that they were a normal couple and not cursed to never really touch each other ever again. He stiffened but didn't move his hands and Evelyn realized that someone was behind them.

Turning she saw Eddie watching them. Before when she saw him, her body would tingle at the thought of his touch. She didn't love him, but she needed physical contact she couldn't get from her husband. Steve was the same way, they found the physical pleasure elsewhere, but for everything else they were together.

“What do you want?” she asked, keeping her voice very level.

“Today,” Eddie started, and stopped. “I was trying to stop the ritual. I thought Steve could handle it on his own. Please, you have to believe me.”

Evelyn tapped the ear bud. “I saw you. I felt Steve getting crushed. He had fractures all along his rib cage, and his internal organs were badly bruised. He was being stomped to death and you turned away.”

Steve put his hands around her shoulders, offering his silent support, letting her deal with her mess in her way, but ready to step in if necessary.

“NO! I would never... I owe you both so much, and I wouldn't do anything to hurt you.” He got down on his knee reaching for her hand.

She usually liked his extravagant gestures, it was one reason she'd chosen him, but now was not the right time. “You saw my husband getting beaten to death, and you were going to help him when you hesitated and turned away. Did you think I would fall into your arms if Steve died? That you could sweep me up off my feet and carry me away?”

“How can you say that? After all that we've done. I love you, and I think of Steve as a brother.”

“You love me, but you don't realize that I don't love you. I'm sorry, I should have dropped you two years ago before you got too attached.”

He looked at her like a hurt puppy dog.

“Steve and I can't satisfy all of our needs, so we look elsewhere. It took a lot of years to admit that, but it kept us sane and together. Despite that, we are still in love and nothing is going to get between us,” she said. “You think you can have a future with me, but you can't. It was fun for you, and filling a need for me. I shouldn't have led you on like I did, but I considered you a good friend.”

“Considered?” he asked, his voice taking a dangerous edge.

“You let my husband get hurt. It was spur of the moment, so I won't go beyond throwing you through a wall. But that is all I'm willing to grant you.”

He started to speak, his lips and face twisted with anger. He stopped, punched a wall and stormed away. Evelyn watched him go, feeling a very small twinge of regret. She had liked him, but only as a friend. Turning back to Steve, she led him back into the guest room, where they sat on the bed and waited for word on their daughter, gently holding each other, desperately wanting to do more.

**

I woke up being dumped on a hard cement floor.

'My work is done. Retrieved the one whose true name you told and whose blood you fed me,' the thing hissed in my mind.

“We thank you, honoured seeker. But won't you stay?” a woman asked.

'Asked to seek the one true named Estelle Georgina Young. I found her and brought her. No more was asked.'

“But what if the infidels come? How can we complete the work of the Blood Father?”

The creatures voice sounded amused almost. 'You ask more of me? Can you pay my price?'

There was a sound of cloth rustling and footsteps moving back. “I am sorry for my impertinence, honoured seeker. You have done your job well, and may return to paradise, where we the faithful wish to go after completing the great works here on Earth.”

I felt the thing leave, the air became easier to breathe, and my skin didn't crawl so much. I couldn't move, my body felt like a limp noodle, so I very carefully opened my eyes a little, keeping my head still. I couldn't actually see much, just a metal screen all around me.

“Get the God Shard ready as planned, while we prepare the ceremony,” the woman said.

I expected them to pick me up and drag me to a locked room where I'd be forced to wait until they were ready to do god only knew what to me. Instead a man grabbed my blouse and ripped it open.

I was punching him before my eyes were even open, but with the exhaustion it was like punching a brick wall, he didn't even flinch as I lightly tapped his stomach. Jerking me up, the nice white blouse came off, and I flopped back on the floor. I tried to tap my bracelets to my belt, but there was a whine declaring it was out of power. I started screaming for help. With one hand holding my stomach so I couldn't jerk away, he undid my belt and slacks and pulled them off. I was screaming and cursing, feebly hitting his arm for all the good it did me. He just grabbed my panties and ripped them off, my bra went the same way. Taking me by the arm, he took off my bracelet, and then the other one. For a final bit of humiliation he took off my socks, leaving me completely naked, and trying to cover myself.

He didn't seem to care that he had a pretty, young girl completely naked in front of him. He put my things into a pile, picked me up over his shoulder and took me to a tiny room. Throwing me onto the bed he left, locking the door behind him.

A few minutes of desperately fighting down a panic attack from thinking I'd been about to be raped immediately after being kidnapped by a demon and seeing people murdered right in front of me, I was mostly functional, if you count being weak as a kitten as functional.

Pulling the dusty blanket around me, for decency and warmth in the cool March air, I searched the room. There was a sink with a clean glass, a plastic bucket and some toilet paper, the bed, a tiny vent that a rat might fit through, old dirty brick walls, and a metal door. Pushing against the brick wall at various points showed that while it was old and dirty, I wasn't about to break through any walls unless I was fully charged. With the way I was feeling and the slow build up of my natural charge, I was really hoping they would wait until late the next day to do anything.

Sitting back on the bed, completely out of breath after that little bit of exploring, I laid down and tried to sleep. It wasn't easy, but I had to try so I'd be prepared and ready to run when the opportunity arrived.

**

Pouring gasoline into the barrel he had brought into the Faraday cage the cult had specially made for just this occasion, the cultist lit a match and threw it in. The clothes, and jewelry the God Shard had been wearing burned quickly. Satisfied that any possible tracking devices were destroyed or well on the way to being destroyed, he threw on some lumber and enjoyed the fire, thinking about how beautiful it was, and how beautiful it would be to see the whole world burn just like it.

Finally walking away, the cultist didn't realize the bracelets were made to handle worse punishment than a little fire. An electrical signal that usually went off every two hours, just to let Super Bear know that Estelle was safe and where she was suppose to be, switched to a subspace frequency, beeping urgently as sensors detected the increasing heat of the fire.

**

Late evening

Herb thundered into the room where Steve and Evelyn were sleeping. The bears eyes were bloodshot, his fur badly singed, and he had an almost jerky way of moving that spoke of devisor drugs meant to clear the mind and let someone work well past the point of exhaustion.

“Get up! I found her!”

Years of training came to the fore, and the two heroes were out of bed grabbing their weapons before they were fully awake.

“You found Estelle?” Evelyn said, barely believing it was possible.

“I had a subspace tracker in her bracelets, it goes off if they're damaged,” he explained. “The signal was really weak, so it took a few hours to triangulate it, the batteries have to be virtually dead, but I have her within a one block area.”

The two frantic parents moved even faster, and were running out the door a minute later. Jumping into Herbs' modified SUV, they took a back exit to avoid the media circus outside.

**

An hour or two after throwing me into the locked room, five women came for me. I was still too weak to fight so rather than waste the energy, I let them dress me in a long, dark red robe that felt clammy and sticky. I desperately tried not to think about where the red had come from or why it smelled a little like iron. Pungent oil was dripped onto my hair, I gasped in pain as they held me and the oldest woman slashed five, deep, parallel marks on both my arms.

The woman dipped her finger in the first cut and used my blood to draw a symbol on my forehead. She did the same with each cut, covering my face and neck in strange runes that tingled and itched with an energy I couldn't seem to use.

Dragging me from the room, each woman singing a strange song, I was taken to a a room that was covered in symbols and artifacts, each one drawn or coated in blood. My mind tried to figure out how many people had died for the ritual.

Manacles were placed on my wrists and ankles. I screamed as they closed, jagged pins lined the inside, cutting into my skin, causing more blood to flow.

Twenty people came into the room, each one painted red, singing and chanting.

Helpless, I screamed, begging anyone who was listening up there to send help. The chanting got louder.