Vigil 01 - Return

Gordon. Gordon...that name...wait...Vigil reluctantly pulled herself from the cock, leaving a mix of spittle and pre-cum over the cock. What am I doing? I shouldn't...I shouldn't... She squinted, suddenly confused at where she was, yet the cock remained in her gaze. She inhaled sharply, the hot smell dominating her mind. Her hand unconsciously rang along its length, feeling the thick, girthy rod that she couldn't help but imagine pressing slowly into her...

Oh god...

She barely resisted as the man's hand led her back onto the cock.

---

Jack groaned, feeling the vigilante's luscious lips around his cock. The vigilante took his full cock-head into her mouth, lowering herself, taking him in deeper and deeper. "Good slut..." he whispered to her and was rewarded with a pleasured moan from the falling vigilante.

Too easy. Just like his bosses had said, she was losing herself to the pleasures of double-A.

This batch was the real shit. It worked even on fucked-up mutants like her.

Jack smiled. His hand groped down, feeling the soft, pillowy breasts of the vigilante through her thin clothing, flicking the vigilante's hard nipples, drawing a muffled mewl from her. He could tell her to strip, but this felt far too good to stop. She was entirely focused on the blowjob, both hands jerking his shaft as her head dipped down and up, almost as if she was desperate for his semen.

What a beautiful end to her story. The vicious, cruel huntress of the night that had terrorised the underworld was now completely tamed by him. Him! A mental image of the vigilante moaning as she rode his dick slipped into his mind.

It was that very encouragement that pushed Jack over the edge. Sharply inhaling, he shoved her head down onto his cock, forcing her to take it all the way down to the back of her throat. He relished the shocked gag from her, enjoying the panicked, widening eyes of his victim as she desperately slammed her hands against his thighs.

He felt his cock pulsing as it delivered a burst of semen down her throat. Her eyes bulged through her mask before he pulled his cock out. His cum shot free a second time, coating her beautiful, freckled face. And one last time, over her mask.

It felt amazing, seeing the confused expression on the bitch, cum—his cum— all over her face. A warning flickered in his mind...something about never doing anything to force his victim out of the trance double-A put them under.

Wait. Jack blinked. Oh shit.

---

Vigil gasped, coughing violently as the man withdrew his cock. She spat on the ground, hastily taking in air as the fog of arousal had been rudely interrupted by the choking. Her face was covered in...some liquid, her mouth was filled with a salty taste, her throat was sore from friction. She felt her wits return, and she...oh god. What did I do?

"You." she rasped through her burning throat. She met his eyes, letting herself shoot into his mind.

---

He rolled on the ground, groaning in pain. Vigil slammed her foot down on his palm, feeling a burst of excitement at the crackling sound emerging from his shattering bones, relishing the scream it drew from his lips.

"Scum. Thought you'd have some fun, didn't you?" she snarled, grabbing his weightless body as she sent it flying into a wall that shimmered into existence just in time. She snapped her fingers, watching his bones snap into place, allowing him to reform as painfully as she had broken his body.

Jack screamed in a mix of desperation and utter pain. "NO, NO, NO—" he managed as she grabbed his newly healed body by his arm, snapping the arm against her knee. His voice was hoarse.

"Kidnap a few women, drug them out of their minds and rape them, right?" She lifted him by the throat, letting him feel his air running out before crushing his brittle throat in her grasp and throwing the corpse to the side. She snapped her fingers once more, hearing him scream as his body was reformed.

"Decided to do the same to me?" Vigil grabbed the newly formed knife on the ground, stabbing it into Jack's gut, watching deep red blood spurt out from his stomach.

"PLEASE, PLEASE!" he begged.

"You're pathetic." she spat, holding the dripping knife up to his throat.

He breathed in apprehension.

"Speak quickly."

The mind-shattering pain in his stomach...he'd do anything to stop it. Anything.

---

Vigil pulled herself from his mind, gasping as she shot herself away from the growing puddle of piss from the unconscious man. Eww. That violent episode was cathartic, almost enough to make her forget about...

Ah.

She didn't need to look at the two hostages to be reminded of her own failure. The salty taste of Jack's semen clung to her tongue, staining her mind with humiliation.

Feeling her face burning, she ungagged them before untying their knots.

Desperate to break the silence, Vigil cleared her throat. "Look. I..."

"We would've been the ones doing that if you hadn't come." Mary said in a quiet voice. "Thank you."

Vigil nodded, unsure of what to say. "I think the cops are coming, there's a bunch of unconscious women in the van below...please hand this over to the cops." she murmured, placing a grey envelope in Mary's hands. "You two can do the explaining, right?

She nodded. The other woman smiled. "'Course we can. You came in here, beat the bad guys, and came out on top."

"Yes. That's exactly what happened." Vigil forced a smile.

Chapter Three

Hours later...

Detective Lynn Williams grumbled as a heavily armoured van rumbled to a halt behind the patrol cars. The van bore the familiar symbol of the premier anti-mutant security force in the city, NovaSec.

"Armed robbers robbing the city bank, fifty kidnappings in District 42, gang fights in the West Docks, and they don't show their faces..." she murmured to a patrol officer, "But one vigilante decides to show her face..."

The officer laughed. "Well, dealing with them ain't my job. Have fun, detective," he said, waving at her as he walked backwards away from her.

Lynn gave him the finger, before turning around to see armoured men disembark the van. They were NovaSec troopers, clad in their signature white armour with faceless helmets. As if a vigilante rampaging through her crime scene wasn't bad enough, now eight former commandos were about to trample about in their ridiculous outfits.

At least the vigilante would leave a nice, neat envelope at the scene, containing pages of notes, pictures, sometimes even USB sticks containing video footage that would easily incriminate the suspects. NovaSec, however, would turn the entire crime scene upside down.

Lynn looked to who she suspected was their leader. "She's gone, shark." she said, using the term the cops had coined that poked fun at the fin at the top of their helmets.

"What do you have over there?" was the reply that ignored her dig. The armoured man pointed at the grey envelope in her hands. Shit.

"It's...evidence. Y'know, the stuff I need so I can do my job?"

"The cape left it here, right? Hand it over."

Lynn aimed a scowl at him. "Now wait a damned minute. This is my crime scene, my case. You guys don't hand over pieces of evidence because some random dude on the street rolls in on your crime scene and asks for it, do you?"

"Give it to him, Lynn." a tired voice came from behind her, and Lynn grimaced.

"Et tu, sarge?" Lynn said dramatically as she turned to face her sergeant.

Sergeant Kane Barnes shrugged. "It's the law. NovaSec has jurisdiction over any crime scene involving domestic terrorism."

"Oh, sure—so the KCA Bank robbers weren't terrorists? Those AK-armed dummies at the docks weren't terrorists? But a girl who takes down a gang of kidnapping racists and leaves us with more than enough evidence to pin them down is?"

The sergeant sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...hand it over to him, detective, that's an order..."

Lynn rolled her eyes, reluctantly passing the envelope over to the gloved palm of the trooper. "Just so you know, she doesn't leave any fingerprints on these notes, so this is a huge waste of time."

"We'll see for ourselves." the trooper replied back, and Lynn could swear she could see his stuck-up face grinning through his faceless helmet.

The trooper turned to his men, obviously giving some orders over their private net. Lynn watched as they filed into the warehouse. She gave her sergeant a look.

"Don't look at me like that, Lynn, you know the rules."

Lynn sighed, sitting down by the pavement. "So what now, now that they're not gonna let me do my job?"

"Well, we work with what we have. What have you gathered?"

"These people were running a kidnapping scheme," Lynn said. "They seized women from District 42, drugging them with black market double-A." Lynn shuddered. The commercial variant ranged from five to ten percent purity. She'd tried one at a party before, and ended up masturbating in the station's restroom for thirty minutes straight. To be forced to take something five times stronger...

"I inspected the warehouse, while you were talking to the hostages. We found heavy-duty locks on many of the bedrooms, and several crates full of syringes."

"This...was a housing area for their captives. It lines up with what the hostages were saying, though I think most of the suspects need some rest before interrogation."

The sergeant nodded. "Agreed. Get some rest tonight, Lynn. I know I will."

Chapter Four

The adrenaline in Faith was already wearing off as she climbed in through her apartment window. Tearing off her Vigil mask, she ran to the washroom, rinsing her mouth of that horrid taste. It wasn't just the taste of semen, but a constant, sticky reminder of her utter humiliation at the hands of a villain. Another defeat, just like the one barely four months ago before the Purge.

Weak. She glared at the mirror. Why am I so fucking weak? A memory flashed through her mind, of her, kneeling before the Mentalist, screaming in abandon as she rode his hard, beautiful—

"Stop!" she snapped, sweeping the toiletries on the floor, the plastic containers clattering noisily against the tiled floor. This is why the League suspended me. This is why Angie, Gordon, Mimosa were all pushing for me to 'take a break'.

Angie. Her sister. Faith had come back here looking for Angie. When the Purge had come, it was Angie who had defended the headquarters, while Faith lied helplessly on the metal floor, bleeding out from a piece of rebar in her thigh. A so-called 'hero' who had to be rescued like a damsel in distress. And instead of rising up and helping her sister defend the very League she'd started, Faith had allowed herself to be carted away to the hospital, hiding under her alter-ego, as her mentor had mentally compelled her to.

She still remembered her will sucking away as she stared into Mindtwist's purple eyes, dreading every word that left her mentor's lips yet knowing she would be helpless to resist. And like the weak-willed idiot she was, she obeyed the order to stay away from Arctin City and never return.

Why did you do that, Mindtwist? Why force me away?

I should've been stronger. If I had been there, if I'd fought alongside them, maybe...

Faith groaned, sinking her face into her palms. Of all the heroes to survive the Purge, why her? Why the weak useless heroine who'd been idling in therapy since the Mentalist broke her? What was she supposed to do if he reappeared?

A part of her wished she'd given up earlier during the Purge, joined the enthralled ranks, and maybe another stronger hero would be here, better-equipped to fight this chaos.

"No." Mindtwist appeared in her mind. No, not Mindtwist, but a memory of her. "Don't give me that bullshit."

Faith turned to face the figment of her imagination. She'd no idea where the real Mindtwist was. She could be in hiding, she could've been enthralled by the Bazaar, or she could be dead. Still, Faith remembered her lectures just as clearly as it was yesterday.

"Remember. Emotions, feelings, empathy...those are our weaknesses." Mindtwist had said. "As psychics we don't let them in, we don't give in to them, we remain emotionless. Calm."

Faith sighed at the figment of her imagination, nodding and breathing slowly. Fuck, I'm going insane, aren't I? Talking to a bloody ghost...

"You're all we've got, Faith...don't you give up on me."

Faith nodded as the apparition disappeared, feeling better. Not that much better, but enough to bend down and pick up the toothbrush she'd cast to the ground earlier.

---

She'd just finished putting on a clean set of clothing before there was a knock on the door. "Ma'am? You alright in there?"

Ensuring her uniform was out of sight, she hurried to the door, opening it before freezing. A man in a neatly pressed police uniform stood in front of her. She eyed the rank on his shoulder.

A sergeant.

They wouldn't send a sergeant to arrest me. It'll either be an entire SWAT team or a NovaSec squad.

"Uhh, miss?" the sergeant cleared his throat.

"Uhm, yes, officer, what's...umm..up! What's up?" she felt her face flushing. This is not going well.

"I, err, heard some crashing noises and screaming in there earlier before complete silence, so I'd thought I'd check it out...you know, as an officer of the law and a good neighbour."

"Neighbour?"

The man nodded. "Oh, right, you just moved in...what, a week ago? I'm Kane, I live opposite you."

"Faith," she forced a smile. "And yeah, I dropped some stuff in the bathroom earlier. I'm fine. Thanks for checking up on me, though."

"Ah," he said. "That's good to hear...that's good to hear."

An awkward silence followed. Faith tentatively prodded his mind, feeling...attraction? Heat rising to her cheeks, she cleared her throat.

The man blinked. "Right, sorry, I guess I'll be going, then."

"See you around, Kane." she said, shutting the door quickly behind her.

He's not bad-looking...Faith briefly entertained the thought, before shutting herself down immediately. Gordon literally died months ago, and you're already thinking about moving on? Way to go, Faith.

She sighed, pushing her thoughts aside. It wasn't that late yet, and she could probably get some investigative work done.

Sitting at her laptop, Faith reached for the notebook in her mental library, letting the words in her mind pour out onto her keyboard. She sighed. Of all the things she could've mastered...she mastered her own short-term memory. Instead of becoming better at resisting mental attacks, becoming better at controlling minds, she'd become better at remembering things better.

How bloody useful.

She looked over at her wallpaper on her desktop, an image of her and her sister. Angie... She could feel Angie was alive. No, Faith knew she was alive. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't...

"Emotions, feelings, empathy..." reminded the mental image of Mindtwist in her mind.

"I know, I know...weakness." Faith said aloud, resuming her typing. It had only been a week since she'd managed to throw off Mindtwist's mental compulsion to 'stay the hell away from Arctin City', but in the single week in the city she'd discovered far more rot than ever before. Gang leaders, drug traffickers and supervillains had banded together in the unholy alliance that called themselves the Pact.

Two months ago, they had won, systematically silencing and taking down every hero and heroine of the League of Protectors. That was the Purge. Since then, the Pact had solidified their place in Arctin City, seizing control of much of the city's underworld. The new governor, in a bid to retain control, had called in a regional private security force with specialised anti-mutant capabilities — NovaSec, while signing into law stringent anti-mutant laws. It worked...to a small extent.

The rich now lived in relative comfort in District 42, safe from the Pact's influence; while the poor lived scattered among the rest of the battered city, poorly defended by the overburdened police force and NovaSec's auxiliary police program. The Pact was far from defeated. Instead, they dug in deeper and established the Bazaar, an underground black market with their prime good — broken, enslaved sex slaves.

Their method? Aphrodite's Ambrosia, or double-A, a desire-enhancing aphrodisiac sold by Calypso Pharmaceuticals. In its commercial form, double-A was ineffective in creating the results the Pact hoped for. Someone in Calypso was siphoning the pure, undiluted concentrate from the source, selling it to the Bazaar.

I need to find out who that is. Cut off the supply, and the whole damn operation comes crashing down.

Chapter Five

Elsewhere...

Julius Lars, the second-most powerful man in the Pact, looked around the room, maintaining a cool, yet vigilant composure as he scanned the twenty-odd men and women sitting around the table. Satisfied, he looked up at the hostesses, and gave them a slight nod. They streamed out of the room gracefully.

He cleared his throat. Good. Everyone's here.

"Evening, ladies and gents. I'll get straight to the point. The Boss wants to know how we're going to deal with this new...obstacle."

"Hold up, hold up. Why ain't he here?" a voice called out.

Julius turned, seeing a bare-chested, heavily tattooed man seated casually on the couch. Ah, one of the ruffian leaders, Julius observed. They weren't the most intelligent contributors to any discussion, but the Pact always had uses for their manpower.

"The Boss prefers not to be in a location where the leadership of the Pact can be taken out in one fell swoop." he replied.

"Ugh," the gang leader scoffed. "And we're okay with that? Your 'boss' doesn't even trust his own nightclub's security."

Several other gang leaders echoed a similar sentiment.

Julius lifted a remote, pressing down a button. The doors opened and the hostesses streamed back in, each holding a silenced pistol. They stared at the gang leader, who gulped. Julius lowered the remote. "I assure you that our club security is more than adequate at resisting an attack. Besides, my friends, we are at the top of the city's hierarchy. No one...not rival gangs, not politicians, not the police, not even NovaSec can touch us."

He paused for effect, smiling as he segued into the main topic at hand. "Except her." He pressed another button on the remote, and the large screen before them clicked on, displaying an old picture of the vigilante.

"This is Vigil, a former member of the defunct vigilante group, the League of Protectors."

"The League? Weren't they all killed or captured?" a random member called out.

"Not this one." Julius said. "She evaded us, evaded NovaSec and now, she has returned. In this single week we've lost three warehouses and significant stock of double-A. More critically, she raided Jack's warehouse yesterday, and may have obtained data that could compromise our operations."

The flurry of fearful whispers spread across the room, before Julius cleared his throat once again to gather their attention. "Fear not, my friends. That is the very reason we are gathered today. Mindshaper?"

A woman dressed in a purple overcoat looked up, the purple glow of her eyes masked behind thick, black shades.