Things had changed since Mary had 'removed' the West-Side Redbloods from the gene pool. Or- well, that wasn't exactly true. Rather, the fact was that they hadn't changed. But they certainly should have. Mary had killed a powerful gang in an easy neighborhood for a new gang to move in, but no one had.
Mary's hubris wanted to claim credit for the lack of more gang activity. But her humble stupidity told her better.
Her little militia was quickly becoming a 'big' militia. Its vaguely legal status granted Mary a whole lot of leeway with the law, though little goodwill. Mainly, her people worked in places the police avoided. It made for a good excuse to continue avoidance of high danger areas if, instead of a bunch of cowards with blue shirts and Glocks, it was patrolled by a bunch of arrogant locals with AR-15s. The police didn't like her, of course, she made them look bad. But they were just as scared of her as they were the local gangs.
Soon, it wouldn't just be the police who were scared of Mary. The Warlock would make sure everyone in thisfucking city knew who to fear.
Dressed in nothing more than her cheap goodwilled trench coat, a tee shirt, and ripped jeans, Mary strode toward the Herron hill reservoir at the top of the old Hill District. The whole damn place was slated for redevelopment, displacing thousands of people to the outer sections of the city back when things were 'better.' Better for who? Anyone rich and white. But those were the days before a meta took a plane out of the sky.
A whole plane. Everyone dead. Mary wished she could've seen that.
Nowadays, the 'poor' moved back to the city's center. There wasn't much safety in the outer parts anymore, the inner city sections across the river were patrolled by metas and Mary's militia. Who was safer depended on who you asked. But above all, the gangs were suffering the most. Metas, cops, and now a rampant militia were all after their throats. On top of all that, the militia's leader, a bitch who took out dozens of men singlehandedly, had presented an ultimatum to every group in the city. East, West, South, and North.
"Herron Hill. Be there Saturday at midnight, or consider it a war."
It was posted in every high gang activity location, every closed and abandoned business or house, and even in the basements of a few sweet grandmas. Mary's group had grown and she wasn't someone who turned away those with ex-gang affiliation. In fact, it was almost a selling point. But the people willing to 'betray' their gang family and join Mary's were growing fewer and further between. If things continued the way they were, she would most certainly start having 'opps' among her people and the locals she was trying to protect.
Time to nip that in the bud.
As she reached the apex of the old reservoir turned park, Mary could make out more than two dozen figures at the top already shouting and arguing amongst themselves. Her smile betrayed her inner feelings. If they were already on edge, this could only get better. As her fingers clenched around a small auto-injector marked XJ-06 in her trench coat pocket, Mary called out.
"Heeeeyllo you's!"
The group fell utterly silent at Mary's approach. One of them raised a hand to point at Mary and shout. However, he wasn't able to get a word out before a younger upstart behind him pulled a gun and shot. Like a jolt of lightning, the other gang leaders snapped and shouted at the young kid while Mary, looking at the rapidly expanding splotch of blood on her shirt, smiled cruelly.
"Not nice."
The whispered words slipped forth as Mary slammed the auto-injector into her forearm. Within seconds, every nerve in Mary's body lit up with a terrible fire. Pain seamed to sear through her every vein, overtaking that of even the bullet that Mary was pulling forth from her cracked collarbone. Restoring the bone was the only pain that seemed to break through the intense wave that flooded her from the injection.
But her mind had never been clearer.
In an instant, she was upon the kid that had shot her. Mary snatched his arm and snapped it between her fingers as though his flesh and bone were nothing more than mere paper Mache models. As he screamed, another gang leader pulled a gun and aimed it at Mary. It was an uzi, Mary thought, as her fingers shattered the steel frame and rendered the machine pistol useless.
"Not nice at all."
The next few minutes were spoken very clearly and very calmly by all involved as Mary 'knit' her flesh back together beneath her now red shirt. The 'lower' gangs of the Pitts, those who ran the neighborhoods and the inner cities, would join Mary as members of her Anti-Meta Militia. They would be paid well, armed, and allowed to help defend and police their homes like the real police never could. They would answer to her, and they would serve without question.
Those that opposed were killed on the spot.
There were not many that opposed after the first three. There would be no riches involved in this endeavor, only loyalty and a life worth living to those who previously had little prospects. Mary knew their hardships, grew up in their projects and hoods, she was one of them. But she would not bow, she would lead. There were those who had doubts, not opposition, just doubts, and Mary would help them later. There were also those that did not attend the meeting, they would be hunted down later.
The new order had been set. For those who dare oppose Mary's Militia, you will learn fear.
Mary's hubris wanted to claim credit for the lack of more gang activity. But her humble stupidity told her better.
Her little militia was quickly becoming a 'big' militia. Its vaguely legal status granted Mary a whole lot of leeway with the law, though little goodwill. Mainly, her people worked in places the police avoided. It made for a good excuse to continue avoidance of high danger areas if, instead of a bunch of cowards with blue shirts and Glocks, it was patrolled by a bunch of arrogant locals with AR-15s. The police didn't like her, of course, she made them look bad. But they were just as scared of her as they were the local gangs.
Soon, it wouldn't just be the police who were scared of Mary. The Warlock would make sure everyone in this
Dressed in nothing more than her cheap goodwilled trench coat, a tee shirt, and ripped jeans, Mary strode toward the Herron hill reservoir at the top of the old Hill District. The whole damn place was slated for redevelopment, displacing thousands of people to the outer sections of the city back when things were 'better.' Better for who? Anyone rich and white. But those were the days before a meta took a plane out of the sky.
A whole plane. Everyone dead. Mary wished she could've seen that.
Nowadays, the 'poor' moved back to the city's center. There wasn't much safety in the outer parts anymore, the inner city sections across the river were patrolled by metas and Mary's militia. Who was safer depended on who you asked. But above all, the gangs were suffering the most. Metas, cops, and now a rampant militia were all after their throats. On top of all that, the militia's leader, a bitch who took out dozens of men singlehandedly, had presented an ultimatum to every group in the city. East, West, South, and North.
"Herron Hill. Be there Saturday at midnight, or consider it a war."
It was posted in every high gang activity location, every closed and abandoned business or house, and even in the basements of a few sweet grandmas. Mary's group had grown and she wasn't someone who turned away those with ex-gang affiliation. In fact, it was almost a selling point. But the people willing to 'betray' their gang family and join Mary's were growing fewer and further between. If things continued the way they were, she would most certainly start having 'opps' among her people and the locals she was trying to protect.
Time to nip that in the bud.
As she reached the apex of the old reservoir turned park, Mary could make out more than two dozen figures at the top already shouting and arguing amongst themselves. Her smile betrayed her inner feelings. If they were already on edge, this could only get better. As her fingers clenched around a small auto-injector marked XJ-06 in her trench coat pocket, Mary called out.
"Heeeeyllo you's!"
The group fell utterly silent at Mary's approach. One of them raised a hand to point at Mary and shout. However, he wasn't able to get a word out before a younger upstart behind him pulled a gun and shot. Like a jolt of lightning, the other gang leaders snapped and shouted at the young kid while Mary, looking at the rapidly expanding splotch of blood on her shirt, smiled cruelly.
"Not nice."
The whispered words slipped forth as Mary slammed the auto-injector into her forearm. Within seconds, every nerve in Mary's body lit up with a terrible fire. Pain seamed to sear through her every vein, overtaking that of even the bullet that Mary was pulling forth from her cracked collarbone. Restoring the bone was the only pain that seemed to break through the intense wave that flooded her from the injection.
But her mind had never been clearer.
In an instant, she was upon the kid that had shot her. Mary snatched his arm and snapped it between her fingers as though his flesh and bone were nothing more than mere paper Mache models. As he screamed, another gang leader pulled a gun and aimed it at Mary. It was an uzi, Mary thought, as her fingers shattered the steel frame and rendered the machine pistol useless.
"Not nice at all."
The next few minutes were spoken very clearly and very calmly by all involved as Mary 'knit' her flesh back together beneath her now red shirt. The 'lower' gangs of the Pitts, those who ran the neighborhoods and the inner cities, would join Mary as members of her Anti-Meta Militia. They would be paid well, armed, and allowed to help defend and police their homes like the real police never could. They would answer to her, and they would serve without question.
Those that opposed were killed on the spot.
There were not many that opposed after the first three. There would be no riches involved in this endeavor, only loyalty and a life worth living to those who previously had little prospects. Mary knew their hardships, grew up in their projects and hoods, she was one of them. But she would not bow, she would lead. There were those who had doubts, not opposition, just doubts, and Mary would help them later. There were also those that did not attend the meeting, they would be hunted down later.
The new order had been set. For those who dare oppose Mary's Militia, you will learn fear.
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