Snippet #2819900

The song Happy Together begins to play as two young adults come into view. At first it appears that they are dancing in the halls of a great, modern penthouse. Yet as they stumble closer it becomes clear that the man has his hands around the woman's throat, and the woman is punching his chest hard, her face red and straining from not being able to breathe. She is beautiful when her skin isn’t bloodied and bruised. Blonde hairs that usually fall in a straight line to her shoulders are sticking up in all directions as she struggles against the grasp of the man. The man is beautiful too, his eyes a deep golden brown, his topless body shaped like a Michelangelo sculpture, but it is ruined by jagged pieces of glass jutting out of it. He wears an ugly, angry look of disgust. Spittle flights from his lips as he throws the woman against a wall and attempts to disengage. But she is there almost immediately, jumping onto his back and scratching at him violently. They both make terrible screeching noises over the music. This is how they dance.

The two lovely figures stumble toward the balcony of their apartment. In the distance Atlas City shines brightly, unmarred by any horrible infestation. The man manages to rip the woman's arms from his shoulders and throw her off his back. She stands and stares at him, golden eyes wild in the afternoon sun, her breath heavy as they both poise in a defensive position, waiting for the other to lunge first. Blood pours from wounds on their bodies. Bruises bloom in ugly colours of yellow, green and purple on their perfect skin. Both of them let the wind cool the sweat against their half naked bodies. Then, with one swift movement the man leaps forward and grabs her by the neck once more, pushing them both off the balcony of their apartment. As they fall midair, the woman finally breaks her resolve and lets out a shriek of despair. Her eyes are bloodshot with fear. He simply looks down at her and grins, and they fall all the way down to the bottom of the city.

The wind seems to slow when they reach the pavement. Several people walking past stare at the two in disbelief as they touch down gently. Of course, he has the power of flight, yet for a moment the woman almost believed that he was going to let her fall to her death. Her knees are shaking and she pushes herself off him and vomits. Vaguely she can hear him speaking to the crowd that has gathered. “Nothing to see here,” he laughs in that stupid, charming way, “She just got a little drunk is all.” She spots a weed in the crack of the pavement and is tempted to rip it out and turn it into a baseball bat. Yet, bashing her husband’s head in front of the public seems like a bad idea. It is game over for today. He has won.

Her eyes suddenly look up and she notices a person trapped beneath acidic goop, staring at her with their mouth agape. Skin melts off an unrecognizable face. The person reaches out, letting out a horrible cry.

“Beyond the sea...”

***

Liz Baker lets out a gasp as she wakes. Her skin has broken out into a cold sweat. The music playing contrasts with her dream in a dramatic, almost comedic way. With a hurried motion the woman throws her covers off and swings her legs off the side of the bed. Briefly she massages the bridge of her nose as reality sets in.

***

Mr. Schmidt, the janitor employed on George’s submarine, glares up from mopping the floor as he is almost pushed over by the Alchemist who is stalking toward the main atrium, wearing only a light blue bathrobe and, strangely, sunglasses. She barely acknowledges the other supers who have gathered as her presence sweeps toward the only thing that matters in this early hour of the morning; coffee.

Once Liz has the steaming hot mug of comfort she sits and sips, quietly eavesdropping on them but never once speaking. Only silently judging.