Young Writers Society

She groaned, and shifted, something had shaken her out of her slumber, she squinted. The bright orange ball of light that was the sun, shone like a fireball through the smoke. The sun reflecting orange spots on the shiny towers of the city.

She blinked, smoke?

She watched a building lazily fall, vanishing in a cloud of dust.

The delayed crash echoed.

What?

Zillah pushed herself up and slid off the bed folding her wings as she rushed to the big bay window. The entire city was covered in a smoky haze. Most of the smoke gathered at the to. But bits of smoke still lingered down below. A few buildings were gone, and the faint wail of sirens weaved through the remaining buildings to her.

She scrunched her face, she hadn't forgotten a bomb, had she? Nah, she didn't do bombs.

Or destroying cities.

She swivelled quickly and ran around the perimeter of the room. Eyes scanning every inch of the dull concrete where she put it here last night but where.

Her face lit as she spotted what she was looking for. She swiped the golden staff up. The pulsing blue orb encased in golden spikes, reflecting off her purple and gold attire.

She slid on the smooth floor into the centre of the pillars. Then unfurled her wings, bent her legs and shot up into the cement ceiling. She passed cleanly through the cement ceiling and hovered above the clifftop. Then shot off towards the city.

Zillah reached the cloud of smoke and dust surrounding the city in seconds. She stopped just in front of it, the wings pulling the smoke back and forth, causing it to swirl around her. She had to get in but how. Flying straight through would clog up her lungs. Was there a break? She could go down below but there was still smoke but less of it.

The villainess flew around the smoke, trying to find a clear spot. The smoke soon opened up. She Flew down it, swivelling around buildings and dust clouds.

She flew lower, cars lay strew among building remnants. People rushed through the streets, attempting to find shelter. Even out of the smoke everything seemed to be coated in a gray haze.

Hearing another booming slow thud, she swivelled towards it. Shooting through the smoke. Hoping it led to a clear spot that the air around the building had created. The smoke parted and she hovered about what had been a building.

“What on earth happened here?” her eyes widened, even she wouldn't do so much hurtful damage.

A mild panic welled up in her, were the kids she'd helped ok? A horrific image of helpless children screaming for help flashed in her eyes. How dare someone hurt them. They'd been through enough already. Not to mention the city. Som peoples homes, workplaces, and possibly some people themselves were all reduced to rubble

Zillah turned slowly around. Peering at all the shadows, searching for the source of this monstrosity of destruction.

“Hello,” a male voice echoed through the buildings behind her.

She spun. Gripping her staff. A man hovered a few yards away from her, veiled by a thin cloud of smoke. He surveyed her curiously. A bubble surrounded, his head, protecting him from the toxic smoke

“Is this you?” Zillah flung her arms out.

The man tilted his head.” You must be Zillah, our resident Villainess.”

Zillah frowned,” you know it's kind of ironic that you bring that up because it seems like you're the villain here.”

He floated closer out of the smoke. The bubble of protection around his head disappearing as he measured. His long blue robes, contrasting his tanned complexion. Along with his stark black, cropped hair. He looked young. Almost too young to be the cause of such demolition. But she wasn't one to talk.

“I was wondering when you'd show up.”

“Yeah, speaking of which there should be someone else here.”

She looked over her shoulder. Of all the times for Soren not to come was when she wasn't attacking the city? What could he be doing that was so important?

“Alright enough chit chat, you can leave now.”

Zillah's brows shot up,” I’m sorry if you think you can get rid of me that easily you're gonna have your work cut out for you.”

The man tilted his head.” We’ll see.”

He did a quick flick of both his hands, Zillah's right-wing folded.

“What,” she gasped as she spiralled down.

She tried pulling her wing out. Whilst frantically trying to gain some stability with her left.

Zillah crashed onto a pile of rubble. Only then did her wing finally unfurled. She pulled herself out. She stood up surveying the scene around her, everything was covered in dust. The road and sidewalks were covered in crumpled metal or clumps of cement. She barely smashed cars around her. Glass was scattered around the sidewalks surrounding the skyscrapers.

Citizens were disappearing through the haze and many limping. The air held an atmosphere for pacing. The screams of people frantically trying to locate their loved ones. Echoed off the surrounding rubble. Adding to the eerie scene.

She launched into the air again. Searching for the man. She gripped her staff with her left hand. Bracing herself. He’d disappeared in the smoke. It curled around her seeming to reach for her.

A  big piece of ragged cement flew up on her right, the man not far behind. It flew at her, she spun, dodging it.

Another piece, then another, and another. She spun, trying to dodge piece after piece. One nicked her arm, she folded her wings and dropped a few feet. Flinging them out and pointing the staff at the man.

His expression faded for a moment, his arms dropping before a slow smile flooded his face. His eyes darted at objects in the air, seen only by him.

“So this is why they call you Mistress of illusions. I won't be so easily tricked by mind games.”

Zillah waved the staff, brute force then.

Her wings stretched, then with one big woosh, she flung herself at him. Staff raised.

She abruptly froze, inches in front of him. His palm raised beside his face.

She tried to bring down the staff, she couldn't move and she was completely frozen. Except for her face.

“You coward,” she snarled, “you won't fight me a hand to hand.”

“I am fighting with my hands, I'm just making sure you can’t.”

He swung his hands down hard, and Zillah was violently pushed face down with it.

She crashed into the asphalt road. Hitting it more on her left side than her right. 

Something cracked.

She lay there for a moment head spinning. Her newfound enemy watching her a few hundred feet up.

She inhaled, then placed her hand on the slightly cracked road and sat up.

Back aching with every move.

Something grabbed her left-wing and she was raised into the air until she was level with him.

“I said get out.” he shook her. Causing her spinning head to sprout a headache.

“Likewise,” she spat.

The man frowned, “sleep on it,” He did a more complicated strange gesture with both his hands and flung her down again.

She slammed into a pile of torn-up roads. Head cracking back on the concrete, wings digging into her back. Her breath left her lungs. Shock registering. She gasped.

Her brain felt like it was exploded. Sharp pain through her left arm.

Her vision was spotted as the world spun, then went black.

Zillah groaned and shifted her pounding head. She squinted at the blaring sun above her. The pain that seemed to increase, her body rushed back.

“Well, sure got my butt kicked,” she whispered.

She slowly reached her right arm back and felt for the edge of the rough concrete. Pulling herself up, her crumpled wings screeching on the concrete. Zillah shifted on the course pieces of road. Then gingerly lifted her left arm moving it slowly, she lifted it higher and winced as pain shot through it.

“Danger, that's not good.”

She reached for her staff, which had fallen a couple of feet away and carefully stood up. Planting it in a crack for stability

She tried to move her wings, producing a couple of sparks, as she tried to stretch them.

“Well guess I am walking back.”

She surveyed the scene around her.

The smoke had faded to a thick veil and the mysterious man was nowhere to be seen. People were slowly gathering in the streets, as ambulances parked in every available spot. Haphazardly dotted along the road

She carefully climbed out of the pile of rubble and struggled down the street. Wincing as her damaged wings occasionally scraped the concrete. Making a hideous screeching noise that drilled into her head.

Her head pounded, her vision occasionally spotted, making her stop for a couple of seconds to regain sight.

Zillah passed by a row of crookedly parked ambulances. A few bystanders gave her glares. While the distracted paramedics didn't give her a single glance.

She paused, how long had she lay there, she could have been on death edge, why hasn't anyone helped her?

She scoffed, what was she thinking they wouldn’t help her.

She returned the glare.

A thin trail of sweat dripped down her face, then neck. Why was she sweating?

Strange. Her head pounded more, and the world blurred.

That wasn’t good.

Something wasn't right, aside from the physical state. But her head was pounding too much to asset it.

Zillah shuffled past and continued down the road. Occasionally climbing over rubble or dodging bits of cars.

Eventually, she spotted the cliff face that housed her base. Framed by the remaining tall buildings that created a wall down the street. Only a few more miles.

She trudged on. The scraping and creaking of her wings had become nauseating by the time she reached the cliff face. Her steps had turned into a slow faltering stumble. The world a blurry mess.

She dropped to her knees and turned. Leaning against the cold stone.

A little nap wouldn't hurt.