The boy looked like he could only afford half a bottle of hair dye, only the top of his head was not the putrid blonde color. He dipped another french fry in his milkshake and actually ate the monstrosity. Then he blathered as if explaining some great truth of the world. But it was not the sheer stupidity, or the trumped up pride or even the oblivious relaxed attitude.
The boy handed one of the french fry and milk shake abominations to the girl sitting across from him. The bravest, kindest, accepting soul in the universe. And she ate it and smiled as if it was actually enjoyable to be in the fool's presence.
This is what made the hell spawn seethe. It receded into the shadows, hoping yet fearing.
She actually touched him. The hell spawn could barely stand it. The girl grabbed the fool's wrist and they hopped to the row in front of them.
By the time the entity could bear to watch again, the fool was eating popcorn that she offered. She offered.
The fettered warrior faded yet raged. Angered and...and...
It would give her one more chance. One.
They were kissing. Anything she had ever held for the hell spawn must be gone. There was nothing left. If the spectre could not hold onto the nameless red head in the face of the blue suited fool, then there was nothing to hold onto.
And without a reason not to, it collapsed inward. No where to lair, only sulk. It fell into the shadows and tried its best to wish itself away.
On top of Middleton's most prominent synagogue at exactly midnight, a blue cape flapped. It was so long that it blended into the starless night despite the still of the air kept even the trees from whistling. In the midst of it was a blackened figure, bound to the star of David by the chains of hell itself.
"A hottie like that was bound to trade up to the artiste.", claimed the grotesque, fattened clown that bobbled next to the hell spawn. He giggled, shaking rolls of fat underneath an entirely too tight shirt.
"Who is she?", the first monster demanded.
"Wrong question.", the clown replied. "Hey. I gotta riddle for you. What's black and blue and unwanted all over? Give you three guesses and a mirror! HAHAHAHAHA!"
The blue cape and black tar of a body suit reached out for the clown and lifted him into the sky. More chains danced in the air menacingly as the first bit into the stone of the star. "I asked 'WHO IS SHE?'!"
"Someone who doesn't give a rat's patootie about you, that's who.", the clown told him. "Someone who'll fall all over someone pretending to be blonde than an actual blonde. That'll croon over a criminal if a trendy horoscope told her instead of a life long companion. Who'll throw her best friend into every dangerous 'sitch' against all the hate the world can muster and then ditch him for a pretty boy that'll turn into a goo-boy if ya squeeze him hard enough. Hee hee hee.
"So why don't you just go to sleep, sunshine? The world doesn't want you. Hell, I can't stand to look at ya. But way more important, she's happy without you. And while she's happy, she can't care about you. Even if some one made her. So just sleep it off. Forget about a world that would like nothing better than to forget about you. I mean, I can make you punchline...because let's face it, I'm a clown! Are you gonna prance around so she and the world can make you one too?"
The hell spawn threw the denim clad clown to the roof...nearly through the roof. "Leave me!"
"Sure thing.", he replied. "Let me leave you to your beauty rest because believe you me-you need it."
The sauntered off, scratching his hulking form and chuckling.
The hell spawn's cape carried it back to the star it chained itself too. The wrappings offered the only comfort he had left. The entity had lost all hope, entered into eternal despair. "If the world wants to forget about...what's my name? Who am I? Even I can't remember my name? I mean, I get why Dr. Drakken always forgets, but myself? If I'm that forgettable, then I'll let it. She'll be better off never knowing what I became."
The cape acquiesced. The chains loosened from the star of David and wrapped around the hellspawn, guarding it just as the undying tar that stuck to its body did. The cape billowed out from the monster as it laid upon the roof of the synagogue. The cape pooled out across the roof and shrank wrapped the entity into the surface, to be hidden from all.
"I fear for the Monkey Master.", Master Sensei told Yori. "There seems be some inexplicable taint...some powerful evil that revolves around him."
His student nodded. "I know we must wait for him to come into his power on his own. There is no such way for mortal creatures like ourselves to train the messiah about his abilities. But if there is such a force threatening him before he manifests, he should be at least told about the weapons at his disposal."
The elder raised an eyebrow. "So you would bring him the Lotus Blade?"
Yori shuffled in her kneeling position. "No, my master. But what about bringing him here, to our school. We could speak openly with a minimum of risk. After all, is it not more dangerous to have him aware of Mystical Monkey Power but unaware of all that entails?"
"And how would you accomplish this?", Sensei continued. "Kidnapping the master?"
"I dare not.", the girl hastily conceded. "But he is from America, a country of immigrants. They pride themselves on cultural exchange to the point that they have exchange programs in their schools. We could trade a student to stand in his place. After bringing him here, we could tell him of his legacy and see for ourselves what evil surrounds him. Only then will we truly know what to do about it."
Sensei nodded. "I agree. Prepare to travel to America."
"May I recommend Hirotaka instead?", Yori asked. "He speaks English as well as I and is much more of an Anglophile."
"Very well. As long as you are not simply jockeying for the opportunity to throw yourself at the Monkey Master's feet."
Yori nearly scoffed. "I understand the prophecies state that he is a firework with the women. But I am certain he will need my discipline and honor more than my flesh. I am certain that I will not so much as kiss him during his stay at our school."
"Agent Du.", Dr. Director politely greeted. "What can I do for you?"
Global Justice' top agent presented a manilla folder with a collection of information that was too unorganized to be called a report.
"Middleton is known for being the epicenter of operations for Middleton Space Center, a highly funded government and military contractor with the additional security that entails. There are numerous universities that do very sensitive research, which operate their own law enforcement agencies as extensions of the state's sheriff's office. Along with all the reasonably expected forces, the town is internationally renowned for being the home town of Kimberly Anne Possible and base of Team Possible.
"Yet, numerous criminal events beyond the scope of the norm continue to be executed. Underground robot fight clubs, museum relic heists and improbable freakish attacks happen there in equal to nearly the rest of the world."
Dr. Director raised her eyebrows. "And?"
Will insisted. "There must be a reason that everything wrong with mankind seems to be drawn to Middleton as if their commanding officer summoned them. Some conspiracy or end game that we aren't perceiving. Team Possible, remarkable as they may be, are still amateurs. They would be entirely to reactive to conduct the thorough investigation it would take to connect a dynamic social network that does not seem to have any actual binding ties aside from Hench Co."
The leader of Global Justice let out a sigh. "So what you're telling me is that you have no new information and no actual criminal to apprehend."
The agent shifted on his feet. "Probably."
"Will...", she began. "You're given leave for a reason. And that's so you can relax enough to not burn out on assigned field work. Now if your relaxation is cooking up conspiracy theories by sorting through old files...well, crazier things have happened than a loose end being actually discovered. But I'm not reassigning assets to a non-existent priority."
Will saluted. "Ma'am."