Who I am...

As Amanda walked down the street holding her mother's hand, she paid no attention to anything as she happily recounted the highlights of the grand spectacle she'd just seen earlier that night. The opening night of Disney on Ice couldn't possibly have been any more exciting for her. So what, if it was two days after her sixth birthday? Daddy had given her the tickets he'd won from the radio station when it was her birthday, and he'd even told her what they were for. Now, after finally seeing it, nothing could ruin her spirits, not even their old car breaking down as they were trying to leave. Okay so they had a long walk home, it gave her the perfect opportunity to tell her parents all of her very favorite parts all over again.

Rebecca smiled nervously at her daughter's antics. While she was truly happy about the fact that her daughter had thoroughly enjoyed the show, she was more than a little scared by the fact that that they would now have to walk through one of the worst sections of downtown. She silently cursed the horrible luck that caused their car to break down when it did. Realistically, she knew that it was only her brother in law's skill as a mechanic and a lot of prayers that had kept the old car running for the past three years. Now, it had left them stranded almost twenty blocks from home. She was truly glad that her husband Steven was with them.

Rebecca looked down at the girl, who was still chattering ecstatically about the show she'd seen just an hour earlier. Long wavy red hair that was held in a single blue ribbon and reached down to the middle of her daughter's back moved with every turn of the girl's head, and bright green eyes danced happily in a small angular face that surprisingly enough, held no freckles at all. At six years old, Amanda was a mirror image of both her mother and her aunt Rachel. Both Rebecca and Rachel were identical twins, with Amanda looking exactly like them except that she was a much younger version; the trio would get some very strange looks when they went somewhere together.

She heard Steven release another sigh of frustration. She knew he was thoroughly disgusted by the car breaking down, but there wasn't anything they could do about it. With well over a half a million miles on it, the '76 Lincoln was just too far past its time. Rebecca was just glad that Amanda simply saw this as one more part of a grand night of celebration for her birthday. After all, it was a nice night with a full moon shining brightly in the dark velvet sky, the street lights all seemed to be working, and their way was well lit. Under the circumstances, about the only thing she could have wished for was that she had worn some shoes that wouldn't kill her feet and leave horrible blisters before the walk home was over.

An hour after they had started walking, Rebecca rolled her eyes as her daughter began retelling one of her many favorite parts for what had to be the thirtieth time. She just couldn't believe how big an impression that one show had made on the girl. Amanda was now swearing up and down that she wanted to be an ice skater. Skipping, twirling, dancing, and laughing merrily, the girl was simply too thrilled for words at what she'd been treated to. Granted they never would have been able to afford tickets for the opening night of the show, let alone the front row seats that Steven had miraculously won, but given Amanda's reaction to it all, she couldn't have been happier. She resigned herself to hearing about this night for the next several months because truth be told; the show really had been that good.

As they passed East 12th street, Rebecca let out her own sigh of frustration. Not quite halfway home, and her feet were already killing her. She knew that blisters had already formed and that one or two had even burst, but there was no way that she could remove her heeled shoes and walk barefoot the rest of the way. If she did, there would be no way she would be able to make it home. She would just have to deal with sore aching feet for the rest of the week, although she was positive that her feet would most likely be bleeding by the time they got home.

Hearing her sigh, Steven looked over at his wife of eight years. At thirty years old, she was still as beautiful as she'd been the day they'd met. Never once had he questioned the miracle that had blessed him with such a gorgeous and loving wife. That blessing had only been enhanced exponentially by the birth of a wonderful and lovely daughter. The two of them had become the entire world to him, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for either of them. The incredibly happy chatter that bubbled cheerfully from his daughter made his heart swell with pride over the fact that he'd been able to bring it about by winning those tickets. Even though he wasn't a religious man, the wonderfully brilliant smile on his daughter's face made him ready to thank God that he'd been able to give her a night like tonight. He felt a sudden pang of guilt as he glanced down at his wife's shoes and realized that her feet had to be hurting. Out of concern for her, he slowed his pace just a touch. So it would take them a little longer to get home, at least she might not be totally miserable for the next few days.

A gasp from Rebecca caught his attention and he looked back up to see what had caused it, only to find himself looking down the barrel of a pistol. A quick but observant glance spotted six somewhat shabbily dressed men in their late teens or early twenties surrounding them.

"Look Guys, whatever you're after; we don't have it. I... I'm just a P.E. coach for an elementary school, I don't make much." Steven told them sincerely.

"Shut the fuck up and get n the alley bitch! You don' know what we want!" The man brandishing the pistol said in a snarl.

As they moved into the alley, Steven pulled out his wallet, took his wife's purse, and held them out to the men. "Here, look. Take 'em, okay? Just let us go. We don't honestly have anything else. Even our damned car broke down on us." Steven exclaimed truthfully.

The lead thug made a snarling face as he smashed the butt of his pistol into the man's temple with every ounce of strength he had. The satisfying impact was accompanied by the sickening crunch of bone as the man slumped to the pavement with blood gushing from the side of his head. Rebecca screamed in shock as she saw her husband go down. She didn't even think as she automatically tried to see about the horrific injury he'd just gotten.

"Oh my God! You Killed him!" Rebecca screamed as she lunged towards her husband.

Upon hearing the scream, and certain that the broad was right and he'd actually killed the bastard he was trying to rob, his hand tightened on the pistol causing it to go off. To his total disbelief, the sound was covered by the loud backfire of a passing truck. If the pistol hadn't jumped in his hand, or if the woman's head hadn't literally been blown apart, he would never have known the gun had fired. Several seconds passed, and he realized that the girl was the only one left alive. A smirking sneer crossed his face as he also realized that there was nothing she could do to stop them, and that she couldn't be left alive to tell about it either.

"Yo, homies! Looks like dis lil bitch gone have ta be a piece o ass afore we cap her!" He told the five men who were with him as he put up the pistol, and pulled a knife.

"Yo G! She gonna be just as dead as her parents!" Another added with a laugh.

He watched and laughed sadistically as his friends grabbed the young girl and held her against the wall. Then he began cutting away her clothes. He took his time while slicing the kid's clothes and shoes. He laughed while making each cut in her clothes, every slice in her underwear. He didn't care at all that he occasionally nicked the girl while doing this, or that she was trying to scream in frantic terror. That only made this that much more fun. Taking true delight in every choked, fear filled sob that accompanied the terrified expression on the girl's face. He intended to prove that his gang could be even more vicious than the Crips or Bloods, and doing this would prove exactly that.

Bright yellow eyes watched from behind a battle mask of durable alloy as the oomans bantered with each other. He'd seen the group take down the two other oomans, and the sight of the dead breeder made his blood burn. Now he watched in a near senseless rage as the group obviously intended to dispatch a mere pup just as callously as they had the parents. It wasn't until he saw one of the male oomans baring himself in front of the breeder pup that he realized exactly what their immediate intentions were. His mandibles flared in stark disbelief that even an ooman bad blood could stoop so low as to do such an incredibly dishonorable and cowardly thing. A soft growl filled with deadly intent left his mouth as he dropped silently behind the group.

Amanda tried to shake her head, which was being held so that she was forced to watch as the stranger, that she was now sure was a boogeyman, in front of her pulled out his thing, and came closer to her. She knew her mommy and daddy were dead, and that they couldn't help her. She couldn't kick, hit, or even scream because of the way she was being held by the boogeymen, and she couldn't help but wonder what she had done to make them be so mean. She couldn't say what it was that made her look away from the man's thing up to his stomach, but when she did, she stared in total confusion at the two metal things that popped out of it. Then the stranger, who had promised to use his thing to rip her open, was lifted up into the air and flung to the side.

The scent of pure terror emerging from the pup, only served to increase his determination to eliminate the ooman bad bloods. Impaling the pup's immediate threat on his wrist blades, he lifted the ooman two feet off the ground and flung him to the right to be rid of the disgusting waste. Then, he extended his blades a second time and turned to face the three males to his left. Three feet of electromagnetically charged alloy with a molecular edge slashed downward from an overhand strike, slicing his second kill into three pieces from left shoulder to right hip. He immediately spun in a three quarter circle to behead the nearest male to his right.

He retracted his wrist blades, because he wanted to kill the three remaining males with his bare hands. Then he realized that these bad blood oomans did not deserve the honor of being killed in such a fashion. He grabbed the smart disk from its appointed position on his belt and hurled it forward to slice the heads of the two men to his right completely in half. Beneath his mask, his mandibles flared in delight as the obviously worthless and unused brains of the bad blood oomans spilled on the ground.

Letting go of the naked girl and allowing her to fall to the ground, he chose to run while he could. He didn't know what had killed all of his homies, but whatever it was, was not only invisible, but it was also a lot more than he was willing to face alone. He'd taken two steps in the direction of safety when something struck him in the back hard enough to force him to the ground. Not yet dead, but definitely dying, he stared at the body of the woman his leader had killed when the growl from some kind of animal made him turn his head to look up over his left shoulder.

Arcs of blue electrical energy flashed over a form that just had to be more than seven feet tall. Skin like he'd never seen before was encased in some kind of weird netting, and thick muscular arms ended in clawed fingers that could rip what little life was left right out of his body. The sight of an unearthly alien mask filled his dimming vision as a massive jolt of pain erupted from his back when the creature removed some kind of strange spear. Without even being able to ask why, he drew a last shuddering breath and died.

Amanda stared at the huge thing that had suddenly shimmered before it appeared out of nowhere. She knew that it had been the one who killed the strangers and boogeymen. It looked like a monster right out of the kind of movies that her parents didn't like her to watch. But it couldn't be a monster if it had saved her could it? Tears of pain and grief streamed down her face as she looked over at the lifeless bodies of her parents. They were dead, and they couldn't help her now. She didn't have any clothes, so she couldn't go out to try to find a policeman either. She saw the monster thing tilt its head to one side, as it seemed to look at her for a second, then it just turned and started to walk away. Terrified that she would now be left alone in the world with no one to help her get home or anything, Amanda jumped up and ran to the monster. Being with the thing that had saved her was a lot better than being left all alone, especially when she didn't even know where her home was.

Pure reflex nearly made him impale the pup with the wrist blades mounted in his right gauntlet as the little ooman grabbed his left leg in a tight embrace and wrapped herself around it. Only the recognition that it was the ooman pup he'd rescued, had stayed a deathblow from landing. He cocked his head in confusion at the flow of strange sounds that emerged from the pup. They were sounds that he knew to be the ooman language, but it wasn't a tongue he understood. It had been an almost instinctive hatred for all bad bloods that had made him kill the oomans to begin with, but now, he wondered what he was supposed to do about the pup. He knew that there was no way the tiny thing could survive in this area, because he'd already dealt with many bad bloods among the oomans. Then he came to a decision, if the pup was strong enough, and smart enough to follow him to his ship, then he would speak to the ship's Elder about her, if not, then she would no longer be his concern. He reached down and carefully unwrapped her arms from around his leg, patted the pup lightly on the head and began to walk away. He made sure to stay hidden, but didn't cloak, since he knew that would make the test impossible for the pup.