The city was no New York City. It was big, but its buildings were all squat. Despite that however, it offered plenty of hiding places. The place I had chosen to land on was a large sign in an older part of the city. Bright light fell out and downward over the sign for an old law firm. It was perfect because the sign jutted out from the building, forming a platform that things could perch in. Additionally, the light fixtures provided a bit of heat that could baffle any infrared cameras.

I set all but the burrito and the tea down on one of the fixtures, hoping the heat from the lamp would delay them becoming cold. I lifted the bottle up and cracked the cap open with a twist of magic. I took one swig of the tea as I unwrapped the burrito. So I began to mindlessly chew as I watched the empty street for something interesting to happen. Nothing did, but it was something to do.

That... That was a good question.

Guilt for what I had done in the military base abruptly made itself known. And again to a lesser extent for the food I had stolen. A horrible feeling settled in my gut as a memory, one of Lucas' this time, flashed in my mind's eye.

A feeling of helplessness. The jeering face of a teenage boy. A clutched rock in my fist. A vision of Lucas standing amongst a pile of corpses and burning buildings, laughing manically.

The feeling of shame and the tossing of a rock away.

I closed my eyes and distracted myself with another draw from the bottle of tea.

The feeling of suddenly flipping through the air and landing with a thud.

I pushed the surge of anger in my chest down and drained the bottle completely.

I was dangerous.

Too dangerous.

"Somewhere secluded. And hard to reach. North maybe." I muttered out loud.

"What do you want from me? I don't have a home to return to. Or friends to rely on. It's ether seclusion or-" I stopped suddenly.

"Or you shut the fuck up." I growled, not willing to complete the thought.

I tore open a chicken waffle sandwich and bitterly sunk my teeth into it.

"I'm not listening. I'm not listening." I whispered, letting the sandwich drift slowly towards the ground, the bite incomplete.

I caught my concentration slipping from the sandwich and took the opportunity to focus on catching the sandwich before it touched the iron platform.

"I'm... I'm... I-"

My train of thought was broken by a lady walking by on the sidewalk below. I pressed my lips shut, my ears pulling themselves backwards. Thankfully I still had the presence of mind to remember I was supposed to be hiding. But if she heard me or not, she hadn't reacted.

I slowly took a bite of the burrito, watching the lady walk by below.

A van turned around the corner as I watched, going no faster than a crawl.

I continued to watch wearily, something was... Off.

The van lurched by the lady and-

The poor girl didn't even have time to exclaim before a rag was over her face and she was pulled inside the vehicle. Almost as swiftly as the attack happened, the men jumped back into their van and the door shut with a clunk.

I blinked stupidly as the van suddenly rushed away, now at a normal, unassuming speed. It was appalling, disturbing even, just how quickly the attack had occurred. One moment someone was free, with dreams and aspirations! The next...

It was sickening.

The swift callousness of just... Taking someone. With an ease and efficiency bordering on professionalism.

And that's what made my blood boil.

My heartbeat pounded like angry war drums from a tribe from ancient times. A savage warmth, from the tips of my ears to the powerful muscles in my back legs, built up suddenly, as if someone decided to douse a grease fire in my chest with a bucket of water. The familiar creep of adrenaline through my veins tinged the edges of my sight with a red fog.

I abandoned my perch and my loot to take to the skies again.

I shouldn't do this. I was dangerous. If I did this, I would be responsible for the creation of even more corpses. But the thought of that lady never seeing freedom again... Of one more innocent voice falling silent forever...

I pumped my wings even harder to catch up.

The van turned smoothly around a bend. It was not hard to follow as I flew above the streets, keeping out of what little light shone upwards. The van turned onto new roads several times, occasionally it would pull into a crowded parking lot, drive around randomly amongst the other traffic, and then pull back out onto the road. A cursory observer would've only seen a van going about its random business. A GPS device, or a cell phone company, or an airborne alien horse would see the maneuvers for what they were, ways to lose someone on their tail.

But I never lost them.

Eventually, they turned into a residential neighborhood, consisting of the large, but few, houses of the upper middle class citizens. The van rolled casually down a few more streets, now seemingly at ease with its surroundings. It turned one final time into a driveway, the glow of an open garage swallowing the van as it pulled inside. The garage door lowered with a hum and a clatter.

Hmm... Why were they here? Was this a human trafficking ring? Was this the home of a corrupt well-to-do who decided that he didn't want a willing partner while their spouse wasn't home? Were the men in the van gangsters or hitmen? Was this a safe house for the cartel or the home of a sociopath?

Did it honestly matter?

For starters, the men in the van must die. They were practiced in their chosen illicit craft. They had likely done this many times and would continue to do so unless they were stopped.

What could I do? Rely on the cops? Psssh. Totally disregarding my alieness, knowing the political climate, they'd be as likely to look at any person who had been kidnapped, smile, and tip their hat to the actual criminal and wish them good day.

No, I had to fix this. Kill or otherwise silence everyone not in cuffs. If it was the home of an old rich dude that has problems with the word 'no'? I could take the time to, creatively teach some manners. But what if there were more kidnapped people? What if there was children?

What if they saw me?

The thought dropped a metric ton of cold water on the steaming boiler that had become my heart.

What if they saw me?

What if they survive?

What if they tell the police?

What if the police tell the FBI?

What if agents get drawn to this city like insects to a giant, city sized UV light?

Would I really risk myself over the ones trapped in this situation?

The boiler inside my chest roared, undeterred as it blew away the frigid thought in a hurricane of hot steam.

I allowed myself to angle my wings down, plunging into a steep dive over the house. Gravity pulled me down as I dove like a hawk after prey. Terminal velocity took me shockingly close to the ground, far too late to pull up. I cast gaseous form and fell into a roiling gust of shady steam.

I splashed harmlessly against the roof top, boiling like a rock thrown into a pot of super steaming pot of water. I recoalesced shockingly quickly for a natural gas cloud, raising thick aggressive tendrils towards windows of the top floor.

I poked through aggressively in each window I found, pouring through cracks and even hardened insulation foam between boards to stream into the rooms beyond. One was a messy bedroom. One was a bathroom. One was full of wooden boxes. One was an office. One had an armed sentry watching the street from a darkened room, surrounded by wooden boxes of ammo, an AR-15 rifle at his side, walkie talkie in hand, lips already moving as he began to form words.

I pulled the hand radio from his hand and rushed into his nose and mouth, yanking suddenly sideways to force the man's neck into an unnaturally crooked position and cleaved his spine in twain.

He died with an unheard gurgle.

I pushed forwards the doors, concentrating all of my mass sans a tiny sliver of thread connecting the network over the roof at the doors.

I streamed through cracked and opened doors like a tidal wave, clashing against myself as we converged into the same hallway. We swiftly found the stair way down and rushed over the banisters as we retreated fully from roof. Once whole again, I poured downward into a myriad of interacting rooms and hallways.

One was a in living room, drinking a can of beer while watching TV. He died as the can was shoved down his throat.

One was in a kitchen, a hot and fresh delivery pizza in hand. He was made to swallow his chosen slice whole, choking on the piping hot food.

An accompanying hallway beheld two men, carrying the lone lady between them. Two tendrils rushed out of the shadows and twisted their heads.

They fell beside their victim.

An open door near them led into darkness. Beyond that, a split between the garage and another hall with played host to multiple doors.

In the garage, there was nothing but a cooling van and some tools.

The first door in the hallway was a bedroom, with a man laying on the bed, his eyes closed and his breath deep. He died when a shadow constricted around his throat and held him still.

The second door lead to another stairway, leading down.

The third and final door lead to, in another life, must've been the master bedroom. Inside was half a pallet of transparent bags full of conspicuous white powder. Additionally, a closet with a bolt lock drew my gaze. A tendril probed under the door to find that the closet was bare concrete, bloody with neglect and decay.

Any pity I might have once had for the owners of this house found itself extinguished.

An available tendril flowed down into the basement, and only found a bar and den that was deserted.

The rest of my mass caught up on the stairway heading down to the first floor.

A flush of a toilet, and a man stepped out of door I had missed in the living room, beholding my dark form looming over the room.

He died with only a small shriek and a stutter, barely enough to pierce the sounds emanating from the TV.

I found myself alone with the still knocked out lady.

Drama aside... I wonder what Luna was about to say before she was interrupted?

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