Hero & Witch Pt. 05.3: Heroine Falls

"Trust me, it's better to just walk away."

The strange words of caution went ignored. As he stood and looked to carefully identify what he could inside. At the last moment, before he could tell his presence was known, he realized the whispered said "in there" and not "in here." The manipulator, whoever it was, turned their attention away from Bevy. He diplomatically stepped in the office to begin to negotiate leaving his co-workers alone, only to find the other person technically was one.

"Jesse?"

"Jon!" The accent was gone, making him look around to see if who it'd come from.

"What the hell are you doing to my boss?"

"I..uh...my cover was blown. I was trying to erase his memory of finding out who I was."

"And he needed to be on his knees for that? And you telling him over and over how much control you have over him, and your superiority?"

"If he's willing to obey me like that, he's willing to forget."

"Right, forgetting about how he'll obey you 'forever,'" he quoted. "Obeying Lacine, whom I don't think I've had the pleasure."

Jesse smiled as she looked away.

"I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to these powers. Given time and more practice," she told him as she turned her face to concentrate on his, "I think people will just do whatever I want without a word spoken."

He felt the assault on his mind instantly, pushing back against it, fighting the crude, blunt attack, shaking it off like a punch to the face that caught him off-guard.

"My my," the accent was back, stranger than ever hearing it so close. "The witch was right about you. You really are special, a bullish mind which there's more to than meets the eye."

Striker took a fighting stance, unsure of what strategy would be best served by using his skills.

"Striker, yes? If you fight like you are refractory, you must be very skilled, something I can certainly use soon enough. But I don't think you're ready to hurt this form. That must be quite the dilemma, unsure if you should harm her, and at the same time, unsure if you can even reach me the longer you wait."

The ebb and flow of her pushing and his resisting continued through her talk, weighing down on Striker as he could only put up a defensive mental wall in a hurry. She pounded onto it like a jackhammer, over and over again; the hero had to appreciate how powerful Psiana might be if she didn't hold back. The blunt hits he couldn't hit back against made him forget about the option of escaping, just looking for a way to fight back or hold out.

"Who...what..the hell...are you?"

"Just a girl with a dream, who's closer to it than ever."

"What's...that? Corporate espionage?"

"Such a trite ambition, very much beneath me. But you'll see the big picture in no time at all."

She took confident steps forward as she saw his knees begin to buckle, some of her control slipping through, assured of having another valuable asset at her command soon. Some of that confidence slipped when a figured instantly appeared behind Striker, wrapping an arm around his chest to support him, the other touching his forehead and whispering to him. "I hope you'll listen next time." His struggling ceased and he could only stand, cradled and barely aware.

Lacine nearly jumped back a few feet, as she and the witch pointed hands at each other, invisible energies crashing at a stalemate.

"One way or another, the psychic loves to encroach upon what's already been claimed. It's interesting that she has help this time, though."

"What can I say? It's a rather perfect symbiosis. The psychic and myself do harbor a deep loathing for you."

Scryer's eyes widened, and momentarily couldn't fight back the giggling from the terrible attempt at an Irish accent from Jesse. Lacine looked confused and nearly incensed from the witch's regard to her.

"You dare mock me witch?"

The angrier Lacine grew, the more she failed at the attempted accent. Still quietly tittering, on the verge of her eyes welling up with tears, Scryer had to force herself to quickly regain her composure.

"Not at..ehmm..all. It..heh..it's perfect for me, too. Two birds with one stone, goes the expression. Lacine, is it?"

"Yes, and you're Scryer. I would extend you niceties, if you deserved them."

"The legends told of specters being dangerous, they never mentioned rudeness. But it is nice to put a face to the hazard for all those warnings and precautions about the portals."

"Your covens found a way for us to leave our wretched dimension through those portals, but you were so inclined to become guard-dogs, to act like spoiled children and refuse to share."

"Indirectly found a way," the witch corrected. "With what you had in-mind for the world, it's not like you gave us any choice. The little specters like you exposing yourself so brazenly, your true goal after you all escape, it's no wonder there's such a latent, lasting fear of magic or anything supernatural, making it hard on the rest of us. If the portals weren't so useful, we would've stopped using them ages ago, just so we wouldn't have to deal with your kind."

"Speaking of exposure, true goals, and hypocrisy, you all just show your unwillingness to share. Someday, I promise you someday, some or many of you will be inclined to do as we do. You needn't look further than the man helplessly in your grasp.

This form's knowledge of how you took him is no different from your ancestors and sisters when they see something they truly want, and will not take no for an answer. There is enough for specters and witches to go around; this world could be ours."

"I am his world, at times. A far cry from taking the entire world he lives in. You assume magic power dismisses conduct; it doesn't, not for witches. The chaos specters are prone to clashes with our sense of order. The world we'd take together would just end in the war which you'd spectacularly lose; that much you know is a fact. Trust me, you're much safer in your own realm."

Lacine smiled as evilly as Scryer had seen anyone manage.

"What you might call elders in our realm, they would be so inclined to agree with you, except for one key discovery I've made. Or rather, you've made."

Scryer gave her a questioning look, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Superheroes make wonderful vessels to control, to embody. More than just a means of pleasure, you've helped realize the potential just waiting to be abused. This one by herself is too good to be true, as she can keep the most powerful witches amongst you at bay. Imagine an army of spectered superheroes. With their minds already occupied by our commands, I don't see witches lasting long against such a varied force. Who's to stop us, really?"

Scryer sighed annoyingly as her fears were realized. "And you didn't believe me when I told you she was a bad omen," she whispered at Striker, who was conscious enough to whisper back "I'm sorry."

"I don't see a bright future for you dear," Scryer replied.

"I look forward to seeing you try to show it to me, witch."

Jon came back to himself standing, searching the room, seeing only Bevy on the ground. Checking his watch, it seemed not much time had passed; it was a few minutes before everyone would return from lunch. Jon moved to begin waking Bevy, who was already stirring out of his stupor.

"Hey boss, you ok?"

"Yeah..I..think today's building took a lot out of me, or maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Don't worry; I won't tell anyone I found you napping."

They laughed as they left the room to head upstairs, Jon's eye as watchful as ever for Scryer, or Jesse or Lacine or whoever she was supposed to be now.

For the rest of the workday, he somehow let his body work like an automaton for physical labor while his mind pondered the newest, most dangerous complication yet in his pursuit of understanding the magic surrounding Scryer. He couldn't remember everything that went on or was said, but the general understanding was clear - Psiana got possessed by a spirit named Lacine, looking to use their powers and probably more, Scryer swooped in to stop her before he got taken too, and both disappeared, maybe to fight elsewhere. He wanted to blame himself for setting things in-motion for this new threat to arise. It was his luck that Bevy seemed to be acting normal now. He could still be under Lacine's control, but unactivated.

Answers for how to deal with the problem weren't coming, so he put his all into work to finish as quickly as he could.

In the closing minutes of the workday, Bevy loudly declared work completed to the satisfaction of corporate standards. That they had the rest of the day and all of the next to enjoy as much of the UK and London as they could before the flight home. Cheering and gestures of comradery left Jon genuinely happy to celebrate a small victory. He could fortunately feign being tired convincingly enough to head back to his hotel to catch a nap before any kind of outing.

Locking the door to his room and showering quickly, his hero mind scrambled to think of some kind of solution. Both women had disappeared and stayed out of sight since the office, and he didn't see or hear a peep from either since. Striker realized the helplessness of his circumstance, how his skills in whatever battle was to come wouldn't amount to much. The one person that could make a difference, he didn't know where she was or if she'd managed to exorcize Lacine from Psiana, or if she'd lost, or something else he hadn't thought of.

Frustration filled him for not knowing where to even begin looking for them, and for not acting against Jesse when he had the chance; rendering her unconscious might've made a difference. If it came to it again, he wondered if he really could.

"Dammit, Jesse."

***

Mark had coaxed Jon out of his room a few hours later, thinking he'd woken Jon from sleep, looking have a congratulatory drink with his friend. As it seemed like it would just be the two of them, Jon was more than fine with that. They both ended up first at Jon's lunch spot for dinner, Jon doubling down on what'd become his favorite English dish. It brightened his mood a little. Looking toward the bathroom he "escaped" to days earlier, surprised how that had become a fond memory in the scheme of things. He'd keep the fact that it was fond to himself for as long as he could.

After dinner, they headed back to the hotel, enjoying a drink at the bar. Mark didn't argue with trying to get Jon to have more than one beer, and instead began an inquiry.

"So, what's your take on Jesse?"

"What do you mean?" Jon asked after a swig of beer.

"Guess, man."

"She's...ok." There wasn't a better word for it than ok.

"Just 'ok?'"

"I know what you mean. And yes."

"Huh."

"What?"

"You know there's a silent pool going around, guessing when you two would get together?"

"What!?"

"Yeah, been going on for weeks now. I guess everyone just sees you as...I don't know. You two look like you fit."

"Why?"

"Everyone's got their feelings about it. Mine's hard to explain, but I just see you two working."

Jon stared at his friend for long seconds before asking. "When did you place your bet for?"

Mark scoffed before the bottle reached his lips, trying to act insulted, but crumbled against Jon's hard stare.

"This trip," he admitted before finishing his beer.

Jon wasn't really surprised, but didn't know what to say to that. If what Mark said was true, he had to keep his laughing to himself about how the pool was invalidated for events that already happened. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, man."

"Why the interest?"

"The office, in-general, they like you. Any of the women willing to talk about you, behind your back, think you'd be a catch. I mean, if we were all a family, you'd be that older brother who just doesn't date for some reason, and works too hard. No one wants to believe you're as rigid as you seem sometimes. I don't think you are."

"Thanks," Jon said as he finished his beer.

"If you want my opinion, the pool started because people think you've been lightening up the past few weeks, and they see a decent guy, wondering why he's single."

"Really?" Jon asked with more interest than he'd intended.

"Yeah, I thought it was because you'd finally gotten some."

Mark could feel Jon's annoyed stare.

"Gotten with someone, whatever. Thought it was Jesse, but the way you talk about her, I guess not," Mark sounded disappointed.

"You stood to make a lot of money if you'd won the pool?"

"Enough for a good hoo-tin' tootin' time."

Jon shook his head, regarding Mark like a immature younger brother.

"Ok, if not Jesse, who do you see yourself with?"

"Well..." Scryer was the immediate answer his mind gave him. A person he'd never hope any of his "family," or actual family would ever meet since that would require explaining being Striker. Sabrina, on the other hand, if it really was a different hand, Jon wondered how other people in his life would react to such a pairing.

"I'll be right back," Jon headed toward the bathroom, literally having to use it, but also stalling for how to respond to his friend's genuine question. By the time he was done, he hoped his friend would accept an "I don't know."

He exited the bathroom to see Mark talking to Jesse through the crack of the door, chatting eagerly. Jon froze, unwilling to leave his spot to not be found out. For some reason, Mark got up from the bar, paid enough for both of his and Jon's drinks, and began leaving with the blonde. Before they got out of sight, Lacine looked back deliberately in Jon's direction, to let him know he'd been seen, and that Mark was taken as bait to lure the hero out. Unfortunately, that gave him some indication of how the fight between the magical beings went. Scryer had either lost or fled before being overcome, he guessed.

Jon quickly asked the bartender if he'd heard anything about where they were going. He spoke of some mention of something at the office. Jon quickly thanked him before heading back to his room to properly dress for the trap set for him.

***

Wayne at the buildings security desk went through all the checks he could, judging whether it was ready to be guarded at night like it was in the states. He was the last person expected to be brought over for such a thing, just being a security guard. But with the confidential software and such, those in-charge didn't want to outsource much, apparently. He couldn't complain, as it became his first trip outside the US, something he'd always talked about doing, but never acted on. Things were looking good, and he hoped to be done with his check soon to be ready for a night out and a vacation day abroad he'd never thought he'd be getting.

In one of the monitors, he saw a figure stepped up to the front entrance. He approached the door to inform them that the building was closed, but he looked closely at the visitor to see a familiar face.

"Ms. Marks? You came out here too? I didn't know." Wayne unlocked and opened the door for the redhead, dressed in her dark business attire.

"Yeah, it's a little secret going on. Surprise evaluations."

"Oh," the guard said hesitantly. "I hope that's going well."

She heard the nervousness in his voice, assuming it meant him as well.

"Not to worry, anyone I am evaluating is getting high marks from what I've seen."

"Heh, that's a good one." Sabrina smiled at the pun she didn't even know she made.

"So..uh, did you forget something at the office here?"

"No, just doing checks like you. Wanted to see if all was quiet on the mental front, you know?"

"Yes...yes, Ms. Marks."

It had been a while since she'd triggered Wayne. She was fully prepared to re-induce him as needed, but he slowly did succumb. She still gave him a few minutes worth of deepening, and a few more for new instructions to prevent disruption.

***

Through all the observation Jon had done of the building in the daytime, Striker easily got into the building, avoiding all the installed cameras. He kept his steps quiet, and his established mental walls as strong he could keep them while mobile, considering them his first line of defense, alongside whatever physical skills he was willing to use to stop Lacine.

He scanned the first floor carefully before moving to the second, to check the room where he'd first found Lacine and Bevy. Striker found it unoccupied, giving it a quick scan before left it. Checking through the sea of cubicles on the second floor, he thought he heard a growling sound from somewhere close by. From off his person, he pulled rope out and wrapped it around his fists, ready to restrain whatever canine was needed to be.

It seemed to bang around the in the dark, making sniffing sounds, hunting the hunter. Swiftly roaming the corridors, he followed the sound of scanning nostrils, not giving the dog a chance to find him first. Times he thought he found him, he came up short, the dog was on the move as much as he was. After running and nearly tripping on something on the floor, nearly crashing into a cubicle wall with enough force to bring it down, he slowed to a much more careful pace. If he were to be victorious afterwards, he didn't want to have to celebrate by rebuilding what Jon Task had worked on. And having spent summers with family, running with their dogs, he eventually noticed who or whatever was moving was on two feet and not four. Circling around, thinking he finally had it cornered, he found he was tricked again, the next noise being at the door leading to the staircase. Before opening it, he listened to hear if there was any indication of sounds below or above. Faint sounds from the third floor confirmed the direction he'd be going. Opening the door slowly, he entered the unlit, rear staircase, hearing more sounds from above, listening to make sure he wouldn't be flanked.

Coming to the third floor, he considered utilizing the roof somehow, but he'd have to have gadgets tech-savvy heroes had, and there was a good chance no hero was more low-tech than Striker, Jon Task's profession aside. Entering the third floor, he dove and rolled across to the nearest cubicle, expecting a surprise as soon as he entered the room. Nothing was waiting for him upon entry, but there was a light source coming from somewhere, as well as familiar growling, followed by a loud declaration.

"Welcome, Striker," Lacine's voice sounded throughout the empty workspace. "Since I have you at a disadvantage, I've decided to play a little more fair with you. I won't use all of my new psychic powers on you, yet. And you'll have a small warm-up while you try to find me."

From behind a cubicle, he saw what looked like a zombified, but living Bevy patrolling with a flashlight, searching for the hero. Probably working in-tandem with whatever dog-like creature was running around.

"I wouldn't take too long if I were you. The more bored I grow, the more I'm inclined to start looking for you, which shouldn't take long at all."

"Pac-man," Striker whispered to himself, trying to remember the strategies he used as a kid when playing the game. The stakes were definitely higher in first-person than overhead, but he hopefully wouldn't need a power-up to deal with any ghosts the specter cooked up for him. Would've been nice if that whispering voice could assist with navigation, but that voice had gone silent since earlier in the day. Knowing he'd be working solo, and that the name of the game was "find me before I find you," he moved quickly. He relied on his eyes and ears to track the light and growling for pre-emptive takedowns if he could manage. He had to do it while Lacine continued her incessant speeches through Jesse's awful excuse for accent imitation.

"I must say, having this woman in my grasp has opened my eyes to what you superheroes are really like. So many whispers of a new era of world citizens, humanity's evolution, the new gods to worship. Specters being known for our whispers, it's amazing how we can even deceive ourselves sometimes. Not much more of a closer look would be needed before we see all the flaws of humanity, with new abilities. No such evolution in a way we thought would matter. This psychic is as jealous, insecure, and stifled by society as any person I've whispered to. She'll never open herself up to all the possibilities at her...not fingertips, at the edge of her mind."