Fucking Sisters for Power Ch. 04

Steven soared through the air of New York City, his clenched fists set onward.

At times, his flight was wobbly and it almost seemed as if he was about to fall from the fifty-meter height he dwelled. However, that did not stop the man from keeping a shit-eating grin on his face.

He closed his eyes, taking in the fresh breeze passing him by.

"Ah..."

Quickly unfurling his eyes, he allowed himself to become serious, keeping his eyes peeled for any who may need help.

'You're a hero now, Steven. You have to stay vig-'

He ceased that thought, spying a small boy that just stepped onto the street for a football that got away from him - in the path of a speedily approaching red Porsche Cayenne.

Giving it his all, Steven pushed his arms downward, going sixty miles per hour to cradle the boy and shoot off with him out of the convertible's path - narrowly avoiding collision.

Stopping shy of the gated entrance to a middle-class home, Steven set the boy down and promptly got on one knee to see if he was okay - face to face.

The boy seemed speechless--awe-struck--more than anything else.

"Hey, kid, you good?"

Out of the blue, voices from people came about.

"O.M.G," a teenage girl said from across the street, school bag on her shoulder and phone in hand - camera pointed directly at Steven.

"I can't believe I actually caught that on camera!" She let out a girlish squeal of delight.

"Definitely posting this on BigTok!"

Steven--not knowing what to say--stood and somewhat nervously stared down at the boy, whose face was now shifting into one of delight.

"Good heavens," an elegantly-dressed middle-aged woman expressed,

"the boy would've met his end if not for that-"

She paused.

"The chap sports a hand-outfitted green scarf."

Admiration had coasted from her tone.

"It's been a while since NYC had anything above a White-Hand hero."

"I've never seen him before."

"Hard to forget a face like that."

"He must be new."

The same schoolgirl recording, exclaimed,

"Ya'll, O.M.G, he's so fine! He's, like, giving supermodel, pookies! I'll be sure to interview, so go ahead and like, follow, and share! Almost at four million followers, which is insane, guys!"

'Jesus fuck,' Steven thought.

More and more people came and expressed interest. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the schoolgirl approaching. As Steven finally mustered the courage to turn toward her and the rest of the onlookers, he felt a tug on his hand.

He looked back to see the beaming boy who yelled,

"Green-Hand hero Sir, what's your name - and do you have any cool merch?! Or a MyTube or BigTok?!"

'I didn't expect this attention at all. I... don't like it.'

"Listen, kid-"

"Mr. Handsome Green-Hand hero."

He sighed, veering around to eye the schoolgirl, still recording with her phone.

Now that Steven got a closer look at her, she appeared to be around his age. Maybe slightly older.

She had bags under her dark brown eyes, though that seemed to be a cosmetic choice, as it melded with her attractive pale face rather well. The same for her plump and enticing black-lipsticked lips.

Her braided red hair which fell down to her shoulders was swept to the right.

Her tits in her loosely worn white uniform top weren't big, although, admittedly noticeable; C-cup.

"Sasha Holiday."

She extended a hand. Nonchalantly, Steven shook it.

"Steven Price, but my hero name's Savior."

Sasha looked skeptical, waiting to see if he was messing with her. When it became apparent that he was indeed being truthful, she burst out laughing.

"What are you, twelve?!"

"Don't listen to her, Savior!" the boy encouraged, eyes twinkling with glee.

"Your hero name's super cool!"

Steven gave him a smile.

"Thanks, kid."

Sasha frowned, clearing her throat.

"Sorry, Savior."

She almost chuckled but her willpower came in at the crucial moment.

"Thinking on it, your name's awesome, and you're pretty awesome; humble. I like ya."

Steven let out a sharp scoff, one of amusement.

'This girl Sasha's... something else.'

"So, what made you want to become a hero, Savior?"

Quickly--almost panicking--Steven brought his wrist above and gawked at it.

His tongue moved swiftly as he spoke,

"Well, would you look at the time - gotta fly - it was a pleasure meeting you, Sasha."

He took off in a flight, hearing,

"Wait!" from Sasha.

Immediately thereafter, a mighty rumble came from past the bridge ahead of him - almost akin to an earthquake, coursing throughout the island of Manhattan.

In shock, Steven went to fall from the air but righted himself. He then closed his eyes, clutching his chest, profusely panting.

"Ah... fuck, man."

When he opened his eyes, it almost seemed as if he wanted to fly away in fear.

'That scared the absolute fucking cocksucking shit out of me.'

The rumble came again; along with the visible shattering and collapsing of buildings, and cries of terror.

"The fuck?" he whispered, dread slipping into his tone.

"A villain," Sasha said, gulping and pocketing her phone.

"A powerful one."

At that point, the people about the area began scrambling away. Sasha stood her ground, somewhat meekly saying,

"Savior."

He eyed her.

She didn't say anything else. She solely

stared up at Steven with an expression that told him,

"Please, don't let me die".

The rumbling came closer. And closer. Steven began to sweat, peering onward.

'Fuck. The screams. People are actually dying, so why aren't I-?'

"Savior!" the little boy called.

"You'll beat that villain, right?!"

Steven inhaled, and exhaled. He envisioned people on their knees, on the ground begging for help. He clenched his fists in deep-seated rage.

"Hang tight."

With those words, he soared forward. Shortly after, he ceased, recognition in his eyes.

"What the fuck - what the fuck?" he murmured.

He beheld the sight of a purple-armored lithe six-foot-tall woman killing everyone in her vicinity with extremely gruesome physical methods.

Costume-adorned individuals--their scarves black and white--tried to escape her.

One flew sky-high, but she zipped above him and set her foot down onto his face, instantly crushing his skull and flaring up blood and brain matter.

She came back to the ground in an instant, behind a hero who sprinted in an attempt to leave with her life.

Misty made sure she did not, horizontally swinging her right hand through the girl and splitting her in half.

Both parts of her fell with a visceral squishing sound.

A child's torso was trampled. An adult civilian was flung onto an exposed rod of steel. Police cars that were coming from behind spontaneously exploded. Buildings collapsed with a flick of a wrist. An invisible man hiding on a corner of the street was met with a spit to the throat that decapitated him; and thus, his invisibility was undone.

A little girl bawling for her mommy was casually grabbed by her hair and thrown into the vacuum of space. Cars stuck in traffic went out with a bang.

A news helicopter above was... left alone.

Many more fell nonetheless. Many more screams resounded.

'It's like she's... unstoppable,' Steven thought, heaving an anxious sigh right after.

'The bitch moves so fast, but she's not even breaking the sound barrier - fucking crazy. Her power and control is...'

Steven almost lost composure, but shook his head.

"No. There's hope, even against the terror of two years ago. I have intangibility. She can't hit-"

He flashed his hands, gritting his teeth and soaring straight toward the woman he had no idea was his sister.

'what she can't touch! I'll phase inside you and drag out your heart for all the lives you've taken, Terrifier!'

She stopped in her tracks, meeting his eyes. A hair's breadth from his target, Steven began to phase, and he paled.

Misty was keeping him at bay with just her armored pinkie on his forehead.

"Steven Price?"

She'd spoken in that mature, thick Russian accent.

Steven was frightened. Both by how she knew his name, and by how his intangibility had no effect on her.

"You've changed," she casually said.

Misty lightly pushed her pinkie on his forehead, and he was catapulted across the streets through several--now empty--small buildings.

Lying still in a convenience store, Steven's forehead was bloodied; his brain felt like it had done multiple backflips.

"Fu... fuck."

He heard the chime that had normally signaled the entry of an employee, manager, or customer; and he rose - albeit with a groan.

Steven checked his scarf - perfectly fine.

His attire, however, was left worse for wear. But at least his cock and ass weren't on display.

Realizing, that this may very well be his final moments, Steven turned to his crossed-arms armored sister and adopted a fighting stance.

"I won't die without putting up a fight, Terrifier. For all the people you've killed, for all the lives you've ruined, I'll fight 'til I can't fight anymore, you evil heartless bitch!"

He came at her with practiced taekwondo kicks; at her chin, at her legs, at her back, at her temple. She could not care less.

"Kneel, Steven Price."

To Steven's chagrin, an invisible pressure forced him to his knees.

He tried in vain to stand again.

"It appears you've acquired an... extraordinary body, as well as the same abilities as Selena Price."

"How... the fuck do you know that? How the fuck do you know me and my sister? We aren't famous at all, so how?"

She folded her arms behind her back, circling Steven and staring him down.

"I have eyes in the Supreme Agency, Steven Price. My spies have told me every minute detail about that family of yours - as well as the lives and families of all other operatives. See, my spies know very well what wrath would befall them should they ever refuse a command."

Steven swallowed saliva, saying,

"I never thought... I'd hate anyone as much as I do you..."

Misty did not like those words. Not one bit.

Seizing Steven by the hair and dashing with him at speeds he couldn't fathom, Misty moved through the city, stopping shy of Sasha Holiday, whom backpedaled in shock and promptly moved protectively in front of the little boy - both their eyes broad and surmounted by anxiety.

"Savior," the boy softly called, disbelief over his features.

Steven was now on his feet, yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move his body.

"Stev-"

The moment Sasha went to call his name, body parts flew in a grandiose eruption of blood and gore. Steven, shuddered, blinking twice, tears streaming down his bloodied face. He opened his mouth, trying and failing to find words.

The little boy behind Sasha was now... dead. Like so many others. Like so many other children.

Sasha's back and Steven's face was now smeared in it: the boy's blood. Yet nothing marred Misty's intimidating purple suit of armor; even after getting up close and personal in killing so many.

"Grieve," Misty told them, no emotion in her voice.

Sasha fell to her knees, screaming--bawling--with all she had,

"Please fucking help us!!!"

Like a bolt of lightning, Operative Selena Price touched down from the sky, some ways behind Misty and Steven.

The woman's bared-teeth countenance emitted disgust and downright insane, vicious fury.

"What the fuck-"

Hearing his sister's voice, Steven turned. He broke down, whispering,

"Sis."

Finishing her sentence, she yelled,

"do you think you're doing to my little brother?!"

Those words were followed by the sound barrier's shatter and the throwing of a punch with the force to erase a massive mountain.

The enraged Selena's fist connected smack dab in the middle of Misty's armored face. A master of control, Selena's destructive prowess was kept in check.

Abruptly, Selena's visage dropped in frightful realization.

'Her mask!'

Was perfectly fine. An armored hand clasped the operative's face. Selena grasped it; struggled--turned intangible--in an attempt to free herself.

She did not succeed. It was then that Misty decided to impassively answer,

"I'm giving him P.T.S.D, of course."

Tossing her sister into the sky, Misty leisurely flashed above and flicked Selena on the cheek, shooting her down and many feet underground.

Instantly, Misty was back to the despondent, speechless Steven and Sasha.

"Now, I was about to ki-"

"TERRIFIER!" a booming nigh-mechanical male voice called from above. She sent her gaze there, seeing many men and women wearing suits.

"YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY OVER TWO HUNDRED OPERATIVES! SURRENDER OR YOU WILL BE PUT DOWN!"

Instantly, she was in the air, hovering in their midst. Many pivoted, getting their fists, swords, and high-tech guns at the ready.

"Let me ask you something!" she spoke out.

"Since when were you operatives comedians?!"

"EXECUTE HER!"

In the blink of an eye, operatives were falling from the sky in blood-soaked droves. Some let out hushed screams as they did. Some muttered curses. Some muttered prayers. Some were speechless, wildly confused and terrified by the monumental agony that suddenly assaulted them.

Although most... most were already dead before they hit the ground.

If not for their superhuman bodies, Misty would have heard the sound of blood and gore connecting with the pavement. Alas, she did not; which only made her wistfully sigh.

"Hmm," she voiced, wonder and intrigue in her tone.

"I did not see Erron Ridley amongst them."

"And how exactly do you know my name?"

Erron was directly behind her, obsidian bow and arrow in his hands, pointed at the back of her head.

"I have eyes-"

Erron needed not to hear her preceding words.

With the utmost wrath, he let loosed his obsidian-tipped arrow, and it slammed into the back of her head.

But that was all it did.

Swinging around, Misty instantly swung her foot upwards into his testicles, splitting him in half.

Instantly, Misty rigidly raised her right hand, and an orb of orange encircled his form thereafter; preventing him from dropping.

"My spies told me that you don't die, Mr. Ridley. Though, thankfully, you do feel pain."

As she spoke, his body--akin to threads being sewn--attempted to stitch itself back together.

Letting the orb of orange condense around his form, she said,

"Suffer well for me, okay?"

When she clenched her fist, the orb absolutely crushed Erron's totality.

His blood and guts thus fell. He fell - same as his allies.

Selena jumped from underground, getting to surface level; wincing in pain. Her suit was all kinds of fucked up - her large tits and tight, attractive stomach on display.

Unbeknownst to Selena, Misty watched her from the sky. Watched her scrambling onwards, frantic eyes shooting all about the corpses of operatives.

"No-no-no-no," she whispered.

Suddenly, her eyes came upon a bloody yet very familiar face, lying with opened lifeless eyes.

Selena's stomach felt nauseous.

Her knees wobbled before giving weight under her. As soon as she fell, she cradled Kara in her arms, yelling with tears,

"Why the fuck?!"

Misty was abruptly to Selena's right. She gasped, holding her friend's corpse even tighter, ire mixing with her woe.

"Why, Selena Price?"

"W-Why... are you doing this - why the fuck did you do what you did two years ago, Terrifier?"

From a news helicopter above, Misty immediately brought down a cameraman who began hysterically screaming,

"Please don't kill-!"

"Stop your whining and do not dare attempt escape or cease filming, young man."

He did not regain his composure, though nodded nevertheless.

"Good."

Misty turned to look down at her sister, nonchalantly saying,

"See, now I'm doing what I'm doing, simply because humans in all their lustfulness disgust me."

"You're serious?" Selena inquired. It had sounded like the woman couldn't believe that at all.

"It doesn't matter if they're openly lustful or not. Everyone has sexual desires, whether deep down or the contrary. I am not excluded from this."

"So why the fuck?!"

The cameraman brought his camera to the infuriated and crying Selena, still cradling the body of her friend.

"You're a... fucking hypocrite."

"No-no-no. You think I don't hate myself?"

Rage came into her tone.

"For that deviant lust alone, we all deserve to die and suffer and cower and despair."

Selena gasped, not truly believing Misty's words.

"Have you not heard how constant sexual assault is, how many disgusting pedophiles, perverts, and rapists are about? The Earth would be better without any of us in it. But not yet. We need to pay; suffer many, many more years before we meet our end."

"Insanity," a new, high-pitched female voice resounded.

Steven, Sasha, the cameraman, and Selena--who was still holding Kara's corpse--were moved some ways back; in close proximity to each other.

Parting her lips, Sasha spoke,

"It's actually Christina Vale."

Everyone could hardly believe it. Even Misty perked up and did something of a double take.

Christina seemed to be in her early twenties. She stood twelve feet from Misty's front, red-gloved fists on her hips, and a golden scarf around her neck.

A rib-length open hood of red was draped over her head and lacy golden lingerie, contrasting with her scarf and showing off her pert, toned ass cheeks and athletic figure; as well as the cleavage holding those captivating E-cup tits of hers.

Her thighs were ample. Her legs long and meaty, leading to the pair of thigh-high black leather boots on her feet.

"Apologies for ma late arrival, sugahs," Christina calmly spoke, her accent Southern American.

All the while, her narrowed vengeful amber eyes did not leave Misty.

"This Golden-Hand hero was mighty busy fightin' a couple million interdimensional aliens down in South Korea."

Haughtily, she raised her head.

"But ah'm here now. And ah'm not in the mood to spare Terrifier 'cause of all the people she slew."

Misty chuckled, grinning beneath her mask.

"You didn't show up to challenge me two years ago, so I'm surprised and amused that it seems you've become an idiot."

"I was evolvin' maself 'round that time. Body was in hibernation. But now, unlike two years ago, ah'm up and runnin', so you'll finally be brought down."

Misty cracked up, shouting,

"Heroes and operatives really are comedians! You think you can stop me?! You don't have the power, young lady!"

"Tell me something," Christina said, throwing a floating and continuously swirling mechanical ball above.

"Can ya survive an attack with the mass ta vaporize planets?"

Underneath that mask, Misty paled, seeing the mechanical ball shooting out beams of red toward her in all directions - even underground.

At the crucial moment, Misty performed acrobatic movements to dodge all beams that came at her.

A gunshot rang out. Christina's red revolver sent a fiery bullet that connected with Misty's mask at near-light speeds. Her head jerked back. A hole went in the mask's forehead, and sparks of electricity teemed about Misty, causing her to groan with gritted teeth.

Christina fired off more rounds into her torso, determinedly walking onward all the while; making Misty stagger and groan with each shot.

Misty thought,

'I'm going intangible... but she's still harming me. The same as me, she can bypass Intangibility. Not that it matters.'

Misty teleported. Christina stopped firing, dropping her gun into a tiny rift that suddenly spawned below her. From that rift, a pitch-black frying pan telekinetically soared into her right hand.

Myriads of blue-gleaming portals then popped into existence around her. From those portals came Misty, traveling through each of them - back and forth, at eighty percent the speed of light to appear as a constellation of purple.