𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗥 | the boys 2

𝘹) 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒

Annie January hardly even noticed the eerie child with an unnerving appearance standing slowly from her tiny hideout. The way she got to her feet was so fluid and smooth, it was comparable to a chilling demon awakening from taunting graves. Her dark hair hung over her face - the calm before the storm. The storm being the formidable child growling with likening to a wolf, stalking the bottle blonde who's presence was not only threatening the safety of The Boys, but offered a chance for her to finally, truly fuck about with The Seven. By herself. The amount of satisfaction she would get from killing Annie with her bare hands would be utterly thrilling. Sure, she played a part in the murder of Translucent, but the only independent thing she'd done, besides the attempted obliteration of the Vought tower, was write a joke about The Deep being a fish-fucker on his own forehead in blood while he was knocked out.

She leapt towards the cute stereotype in plain clothes and forced her from her feet onto her behind, looming with murderous intent as she began to complain,"HEY! Wait... I know you - you're Butcher's kid, right? You said I had nice hair." Annie recounted with some confusion.

"Times fucking change," Rowan grabbed the front of her shirt and clenched her other hand into a fist - her voice was low, threatening and full of trembles, just as she first threatened Frenchie under similar circumstances. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

"Hu-Hughie brought me... what is wrong with you?" Starlight watched her dilated pupils, pulling herself to her feet without daring to bat an eyelash.

"More than you could guess, you drugged up bitch." She spat - she wasn't taking shit from a member of The Seven. It was almost as if she was blaming the supe for Butcher's leaving. In some weird, fucked up way, she had taken him away. And that was her reasoning for how violent she was willing to get.

SUPES ARE THE REASON BECCA'S GONE.

"I'm not gonna' fight you." Annie warned as the child stretched out her shoulder blades.

"Well, that makes things easier for me." She grimaced before lunging at the young lady with malicious blood lust flooding her wild eyes.

Annie managed to grab her wrist among the pain of claws at her throat and hold the kid away from her, prompting Rowan to let out a small, frustrated hiss of impatience. She hooked her arm around the opponent's back, throwing her face into her raised knee to free herself before pushing the hunched super into the table which toppled with a deafening clatter.

A weak groan emitted from the cluttered mess and sprawled woman collecting herself purely from shell shock - this was just a child, after all. Then again, Starlight was in full belief that she was Butcher's genuine kid. Who could blame her?

YOU'RE SO DEAD.

VOUGHT ARE GONNA' KILL YOU LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.

YOU SHOULD BE MORE SCARED.

YOU'RE SCARED RIGHT NOW.

YOU'RE SCARED.

"I'm not fucking scared." She grumbled as the light bulbs flickered along with Starlight's eyes. She was so distracted by the commands in her head that she didn't realise the beam of light shooting towards her and launching her back into the far kitchen counter where she slipped back down, out of sight, with a loud thump to the ground.

Annie reluctantly stood and wiped her aching nose as the glow in her eyes faded, gingerly creeping towards the island further her way. Ordinarily, she wouldn't hurt a child like that but she knew that if she stayed, defenceless on the mess she had caused from the tumble, Rowan would probably go in to choke her. "Hey... what do they call you... Striker?" She guessed,"I don't wanna' hurt you. I know you're mad but I'm not one of them. I'm not..." Her voice trailed into silence as she peeked around and was greeted with nothing but a small, red smear on the floor,"...Like Homelander."