One minute I’d been lying in a pool of my own blood, barely conscious, trying desperately to breathe as my body slowly, pathetically pulled itself back together.

  Then I heard something.

  I’d heard Elena scream, and it was like a shot of adrenaline straight to the chest. My body’s healing - which at this point was slowly and pathetically trying to pull my body back together enough to keep me alive - kicked into overdrive; my ribs snapped back together, my right arm popped back into place with a crack that made me want to vomit. I gasped as my body seized up, then relaxed.

  I still wasn’t good, far from it. Breathing hurt like hell, and my right leg still screamed with even a slight movement. But I was better; I could move, I could see a bit more, I could-

  I saw Slaughterhouse, standing over Elena.

  No…

  I pushed myself up with my left arm before it almost immediately buckled, sending me sprawling back to the floor.

  Slaughterhouse wrapped those awful red tendrils around her, lifting her up into the air.

  No!

  I forced myself up again, this time on my good leg. I was so sore, every nerve screamed, but it didn’t matter.

  Elena screamed, dangling helplessly.

  NO!

  I thrust out my left hand like I was trying to reach out for her and-

  My power surged, filling the white bony mass that had become my left arm. Immediately three narrow spears of bone erupted from it, shooting through the air like bullets. I felt each one hit Slaughterhouse in the back with a wet, meaty jolt.

  It went silent.

  I was panting, feeling unsteady. I looked up, and saw Elena’s eyes meet mine. She was safe.

  Thank God.

  Then I saw Slaughterhouse’s head turn to look at me.

  She looked surprised.

  Good.

  I opened my mouth to speak. It hurt, like someone was dragging razor wire up and down my throat.

  “Hands. Off. My. Friend!” I snarled, ragged and hoarse.

  I saw Elena wriggle free, tumbling to the ground and immediately bolting away and running towards me.

  Wait…

  My eyes widened. Realisation hit me like a slap in the face.

  My bones had impaled Slaughterhouse.

  All this time, anything the three of us had done - the punches, the kicks, the wads of foodstuff - they’d hit Slaughterhouse and done nothing.

  Hell, even when I’d punched her before it still felt like I was punching a wall.

  But here I was, Slaughterhouse impaled on the end of my bones like a piece of meat.

  Was that the key? Piercing her, cutting into her body?

  I tensed my left arm, causing my power to tense with it. The spears of bone quickly retracted from Slaughterhouse’s back with a pop, melding back into me.

  Elena ran to me, skidding to my side.

  “Skye! How’re you-”

  I didn’t turn to look at Elena. I was too focused on Slaughterhouse. She stumbled forward, unsteady. For the first time this whole fight, she looked uneasy.

  “Skye, hello?!” Elena hissed, grabbing my helmet and turning my head to look at her. A sharp pain shot through my neck, before I met Elena’s eyes.

  “Jesus Christ...!” She gasped, looking at me. I must have looked awful, because she turned pale at the sight of me, even with the helmet masking most of my face.

  “I-I… I know how-” I started, before doubling over coughing. Pain flared in my ribs. Elena got under my arm, helping me up without a word; I leaned on her, using her as a crutch.

  “I know how to beat her.” I wheezed.

  Elena spun to look at me, looking at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “You can not be serious, look at yourself!” She shouted. “You can barely stand, she swung you around like a toy!”

  Whatever response I had was cut off by a golden streak rocketing out of a nearby building, as Glory shot out and drop-kicked Slaughterhouse in the jaw, sending her sprawling across the ground. Then, she grabbed her by the leg before throwing her up, into a different building.

  “I am so fucking SICK of this!” She screamed.

  Then she turned to look at us, glowing and pissed off, floating about a foot off of the ground. Somehow, even after all this chaos, she looked like she’d walked right off a billboard: not a scratch on her, even her hair was somehow perfect.

  “Not gonna say it again. You two. Leave. Now!” She yelled.

  My jaw clenched. What made her think she could just bark orders at us? Just because she was this glowing golden supergirl?

  “I th-think I-” I croaked, breath hitching. “I think I know how we can b-beat her.”

  There was a pause, as if the city itself heard what I said and was processing how delusional I sounded. Glory’s jaw just dropped open as she listened to me.

  “Jesus fuck, you’re actually insane!” She said, laughing humourlessly. “You look like you can’t stand and you think you can kill her?!”

  I tried to stand up more, meeting her gaze. White-hot pain shot through my right leg as I did, but I fought through it, standing as tall as I could.

  “Skye, are you hearing yourself?” Elena asked from beside me. “You nearly died, you need a doctor!”

  I ignored her, and locked eyes with Glory. A small part of my brain noted that she was a good few inches shorter than me.

  “L-listen to me. I know we c-can beat her. Sh-she’s t-tough but-.”

  “‘She’s tough!’ Yeah no shit, Sherlock!” Glory retorted, with a mocking snort. “I’ve been beating her ass and she’s still standing!”

  “Y-you’re not the one she threw around like a f-fucking ragdoll!” I shouted back, anger rising in my chest. Where had this come from, had I really been hit that hard in the head?

  I hear Elena gasp under me, half-holding me up and half-trying to pull me back.

  “Excuse you?!” Glory snapped, her brows raising. “Just because you got your ribs turned to gravel doesn’t mean you can shit-talk me!”

  “Come on, she saved you from whatever Slaughterhouse was doing to you before!” Elena shouted from under me. “Least you could do is not be a super-bitch!”

  Glory let out an incoherent growl, and she was suddenly right in front of us, visibly mad.

  “What in the fuck makes you think you have any chance of taking her out in the state you’re in right now?” she snarled, practically spitting out each word.

  “Because I got her!” I shouted. “Speared her through the b-back! All the way through!”

  That made her blink. Her stance shifted. Her golden glow dimmed, just a bit.

  “You got her? Really?” She didn’t believe me.

  “She did.” Elena said. “Saved my ass.”

  I held up my left arm, the spears of bone still jutting from it.

  “She didn’t shake it off like she did with everything else,” I continued, trying to keep my voice steady, “If we can keep cutting into her, we can slow her down. If she c-can heal, I don’t think she can heal very fast.”

  “Really?” Elena said from under me, equally incredulous. “Why?”

  “B-because if she could,” I said, looking up at where Glory had launched Slaughterhouse. “sh-she’d have shot b-back down by now.”

  I could feel Elena staring up at me, trying to decide if I was nuts, correct, or both.

  “This is nuts, dude.” She whispered, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “You realise that, right? You’re barely holding it together.”

  “I-I can heal better than I thought.” I murmured.

  “Not what I meant, and you know it.” Elena responded.

  “Sorry. B-but if we don’t try, Slaughterhouse gets to run free til this supposed backup appears.”

  Glory still hadn’t responded. She had been staring up at the hole in the building, before she ran a hand through her perfect hair and let out a frustrated sigh.

  Of course she looks camera-ready. I thought. Even after being flung through a building she still looks like a fucking model.

  “Fine.” She barked. “If you really, really think this will work, go for it. I’m not gonna stop you. But if you think for even a second that it won’t, you both run as fast as you fucking can, and you don’t come back. Got it?”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I nodded, before looking down at Elena.

  “G-get out of here.” I said to her, my voice cracking.

  She paused. I could see her looking around for an easy exit. I realised I could hear sirens in the distance.

  “…No.” She said, looking back at me. “Not gonna ditch you and leave you to die. But I’m going back to somewhere she can’t get me again.”

  I just nodded. She gave my shoulder a last squeeze before she scrambled up a nearby fire escape.

  My eyes closed, as I focused my power into my left arm, melding it into a slightly curved blade, like a massive hunting knife.

  I tried to stand myself to my full height, putting weight down on my right leg. The bone had just barely corrected itself, and I could still feel the flesh knitting back together. It still hurt, but I could handle it.

  I turned to look at Glory. Here we were again, standing side-by-side for the second time tonight.

  “You’re fucked in the head, you know that?” She muttered without looking at me.

  I didn’t respond. Not because I couldn’t, but because with how semi-delirious I felt, I don’t think I’d have said anything particularly nice.

  I glanced over to her; Glory was standing there, literally glowing. Still gorgeous, throwing out snark and quips like it was just another mission, like this was somehow normal, like she - and especially I - hadn’t been beaten half to death and back. She’d probably finish off tonight with an interview with the press, and she’d get all the glory.

  Meanwhile, I looked like I’d been scraped off of the pavement with a shovel and left out to dry.

  But also, I did sound insane. Here I was; broken, battered, and talking like I could seriously go toe-to-toe with one of the world’s most violent supervillains. Maybe it was the full-body beating I’d just taken, but the anxiety that normally took over everything I did was just…gone, at least for now.

  Up above us, Slaughterhouse roared, an unholy howl filling the air. Then her head turned to look down at us, eyes glowing red.

  She dropped, falling like a stone.

  “Eyes up, Bonebrain.” Glory said, bracing herself.

  I rolled my neck, feeling something pop.

  “I-It’s Skullgirl” I murmured.

  “Whatever.” Glory retorted. I could almost hear her eyes roll in her head.

  I raised my left arm-blade, the edge of it glinting under the streetlights.

  My knees were shaking. My chest burned.

  I couldn’t run now. If I was going to die here, I was going out swinging.

  Glory shot forward, and I followed behind her. My leg screamed as I ran, but I ignored it, running as fast as I could.

  Slaughterhouse snarled, grabbing an abandoned car with one hand and launching it at us. Glory flew in front of me, swatting it down so it landed to the side in a heap with a crash

  I focused on Slaughterhouse. I could see in the centre of her chest where my bones had stabbed her before, the holes still there. But there was something inside the hole, plugging it shut, something red and sinewy.

  I threw out my right hand, surging my power through it. Immediately, spears of bone - thinner than the ones I’d sent from my left arm - shot out from my fingertips towards her. She darted to the side, the spears just barely missing her, before she bolted towards me.

  Glory flew in front of her, blocking her approach. Seizing my chance, I ran around her and swung my arm-blade at Slaughterhouse. I saw her eye catch me, but too late.

  The blade hooked right into the back of Slaughterhouse’s thigh. She let out a muffled howl of pain as I cut through her skin.

  What struck me was how strange it felt, it didn’t feel as neat as I imagined cutting through flesh would feel like. Instead the blade snagged, sawing through what felt like hundreds of tightly-pulled strings buried beneath her skin.

  As the blade exited with a wet snap, I saw Slaughterhouse stumble back. Whatever sense of victory I had was immediately cut short as more of those tendrils - smaller than the ones I’d been used to so far - shot out from the cut I’d made in her leg, wrapping around my right arm.

  Oh, so its muscle fibers! I realised, immediately before they violently retracted, yanking me towards Slaughterhouse’s leg.

  I landed with a thud at her feet as she raised her leg to stomp my head in. Mercifully, I was quick enough to push myself away as her foot came down with a crunch, cracking the ground.

  Slaughterhouse loomed over me, ready to strike again, before something slammed into her head, something that sizzled her skin.

  It was a lump of meat, but thick green acid sprayed over her face, sizzling instantly. Her skin hissed and bubbled like oil on a skillet, smoke rising as it ate into her scarred flesh. I heard Slaughterhouse scream, muffled by the meat covering her mouth.

  Nice shot, Elena. I thought, pulling myself back up. Seizing the moment, Glory flew in and punched Slaughterhouse in the chest, causing her to groan as air left her lungs. Then, I rushed in, quickly focusing power into my right hand again, launching more of those spear-like lengths of bone. Two of them shot from my fingertips, catching Slaughterhouse right between the ribs.

  This time there was resistance, like something inside her was holding me at bay. I gritted my teeth, focusing. The spikes inched forward, grinding against those tightly-pressed muscle fibres, which felt almost like an undersuit of rock-hard armour. Then, with a sickening series of snaps and pops, they broke through. I felt her muscles rupture, something wet tear open.

  Slaughterhouse screamed as I broke through. Glory, seizing an opportunity, rocketed forward. She punched Slaughterhouse in the chest again, her fist flashing like a bomb going off. Then again, and again, and again, the punches sounding like a cannon. With each punch, Slaughterhouse was knocked further and further back until she was pinned to the wall of the building.

  Glory didn’t let up, each punch cracking the wall behind Slaughterhouse further and further, embedding her into the bricks.

  Then, Slaughterhouse’s head snapped back. She let out a cry, a roar of pain and anger. Her back split open, unfolding and erupting like a blooming flower.

  Hundreds, maybe thousands of those red muscle fibers unfolded from her back, whirling and flailing like a fleshy tornado. The thing that struck me most was the smell; like a butcher’s but weirdly warm, the scent hitting me like a truck.

  Her tendrils spread out wildly behind and above her, most of them affixing themselves to the tall building Glory had kicked Slaughterhouse into before.

  Unfortunately, a good amount of them wrapped around me. They latched onto my waist, around my chest, and I suddenly found myself lifted off of the ground. The tendrils affixed to the building retracted, quickly lifting Slaughterhouse off of the ground towards it, dragging me behind her as I yelped.

  She was moving fast, each muscle fiber working in perfect concert with the other, causing us to scramble up this building’s wall.

  “You think you’re clever, child?!” Slaughterhouse snarled. I turned up to look at her; whatever acid Elena had spat at her had burned through the skin on her face, as flesh peeled off of it, chunks falling down to the streets below us.

  I flailed, desperately trying to make my power do something, anything. I was too agitated, thinking too much, I couldn’t get a good grasp of anything; my bones just writhed inside my skin.

  “You think you’re the only one who thought they figured me out?! You think just cutting me up is going to kill me?!”

  My body jolted as she moved, taking us further and further up the building, her tendrils moving like the legs of a frantic meaty spider. We got about two stories up, but she kept going.

  “I’ve killed more superhumans than you can comprehend, girl!” she snarled, face twisting into something monstrous. “You stuttering little upstart, you think you get to kill me?!”

  Slaughterhouse stopped, now four stories up, her tendrils hooked into the sides of the building. I looked down, feeling my vision spin as I realised just how high up we were.

  The tendrils around my arms tightened and stretched, pulling my arms wide apart, holding me like I was on display. I pulled desperately, trying to break them off, but it was like trying to rip apart steel.

  Suddenly, I lurched; they retracted, pulling me towards her. She reached out, clamping her hand right around my bare neck.

  “Sing for me!” Slaughterhouse commanded, her hand dancing with black sparks.

  Immediately I felt something, like a match being struck beneath my skin.

  Then, there was pain. I thought I knew pain, getting half of my body broken and mashed to a pulp; I was still feeling that pain run through my system. But this was different; not a sharp pain, not a dull one, not a sting or an ache. It was every kind of pain imaginable, cranked up to eleven and pumped into every inch of my body.

  It made me beg for the pain of mere broken limbs and shattered ribs.

  It felt like every single nerve in my body had been lit on fire. My muscles seized violently, hard enough that they could have snapped my bones clean in two again.

  My jaw clenched; I tried to scream, but all that came out was a ragged cry. My body arched and reared like it was trying everything to get away.

  Even thinking was hard. I wanted nothing more than to get away, to get her off of me, but my body felt like it had just shut down. My legs dangled uselessly beneath me. My arms spasmed and twitched, muscles trembling and contracting. Every breath was shallow and broken. My vision blurred. My ears rang.

  I could feel Slaughterhouse lean in, I could practically hear the smile on her face.

  “Now that,” She whispered, chuckling, “That is a beautiful song.”

  I tried to fight through it, tried to power through the pain, but I just couldn’t. It took everything I could just to try and open my mouth, and all that came out was a ragged, gurgling scream.

  I could see her leaning her mouth towards me, mouth open. Rows and rows of sharp, jagged teeth like a shark, like she was ready to eat me alive.

  CRACK!

  Slaughterhouse’s grip on my neck loosened. Almost immediately, the overwhelming pain started to fade like water flowing out of my body. I gasped, inhaling as I opened my eyes.

  Something had slammed into Slaughterhouse’s right arm, hard enough to cause the elbow to bend inward. She snarled, looking more angry than actually hurt. My eyes flicked up, and I saw what looked like a gumball, easily the size of my head, whizzing into the building we were hanging from with a crack.

  But the pain was gone, and that was all I needed.

  The tendrils around my arm had relaxed ever-so-slightly, enough to let me move. I swung my left arm, still morphed into that white blade, slicing through the ones around me. The sound was like rubber bands pinging with a snap-snap-snap, each one causing Slaughterhouse and I to drop slightly from the now-great height we were at.

  “Do you have a death wish?” She snarled. “You realise you’ll die if you fall from a height like this?!”

  I remembered the tryouts, how I fell half the height of a building and survived without much of a scratch. Could I survive a fall from up here? Could she?

  Only one way to find out. I thought.

  I grabbed onto one of the tendrils with my right hand, which tensed as I latched onto it, shooting me further up into the mad tangle of muscle fibres that were grappling onto the building.

  Perfect.

  Another swing, my left arm-blade cutting into them neatly. Again, Slaughterhouse started to drop, but at the same time she flexed the tendrils she had left and launched herself towards me like a rocket.

  I let go of the tendril I was holding on to, morphing my right hand into another blade which erupted from my flesh; not as big as my left, but it would do.

  I fell, before we collided with a thud in mid-air. I drove my right arm-blade into her stomach, feeling the edge grind through tight cords of muscle. She snarled, her right hand stretched out towards me; I swung up my left arm-blade, catching it.

  Black sparks danced across it. My stomach dropped as I expected more of that unimaginable pain. Then–nothing.

  Slaughterhouse’s face dropped. She looked baffled.

  I smirked behind my helmet, swinging my arm out. It was enough to cut through the palm of Slaughterhouse’s hand. Again I felt the muscle beneath snap, as the top of her palm and three of her fingers fell into the open air.

  She howled in pain, and lost focus. The remaining tendrils that were grappled to the building broke free.

  We went into free-fall.

  I looked down at Slaughterhouse. She was bigger than me, stronger than me, but she was also heavier than me. She was falling faster than me.

  And it looked like she’d realised that too.

  I could faintly hear Elena and Glory yell, and could see Glory take off towards us.

  Slaughterhouse reached out her hands, trying to extend more of her tendrils out towards the building, but they couldn’t get a grip; they either slid off or they just snapped from the force.

  The ground was getting closer. Glory wasn’t going to get here in time.

  I pulled my left arm back. I knew I needed to make her stop somehow, make it so she couldn’t move. So I focused everything I could into my arm.

  The bone cracked and flowered open rapidly, growing larger and longer; morphing from the large blade into a massive white spike like a jackhammer, almost as long as I was tall.

  There was a loud thud. Slaughterhouse hit the ground with a crunch, her body bouncing as she landed. She grunted in pain, a spray of blood rocketing out of her mouth.

  Her eyes opened. I couldn’t imagine what I looked like to her. A mirror image of my first punch against her, but now I looked broken, battered, one bad move away from keeling over dead.

  God, please. I prayed.

  I screamed as I bared down on her, thrusting my arm forward. Slaughterhouse raised up her arm to-

  I brought the full weight of my fall behind me, my arm-spike driving forward like a javelin, and slammed it into her chest.

  There was a sound I’ll never forget as the tightly-wound muscle fibers in her chest broke. A crunching, ripping, sick, wet tearing sound like a tree being split down the middle. As I tore through that under-armour of muscle, I felt her ribs crunch, something else inside snapped in two.

  The impact immediately shot through my body; I felt bones all across my body rattle and crack, air shooting out of me.

  Hold it together. I thought, trying desperately to keep myself from passing out.

  Slaughterhouse let out a long wheeze.

  Pain shot through me, my vision swam. I felt lightheaded. But here I was, face to face with Slaughterhouse, my arm buried in her chest.

  “‘Upstart’, r-right?” I said, trying to keep my voice as firm as I could while my lungs struggled. “Name’s ‘Skullgirl,’ bitch.”

  My words hung in the air. Slaughterhouse didn’t move, didn’t breathe. For a second I thought I’d killed her. I thought–

  Wait.

  She was laughing.

  “Hope you’re ready, ‘Skullgirl’.” She gurgled, blood oozing from her mouth.

  “Tag…” she wheezed, her split lips curling into something like a smile.

  Her head rolled back, eyes closing. I wasn’t far behind her; whatever willpower was keeping me upright was starting to fade

  My head dropped, my vision blurring. I felt myself roll weakly off of her, landing in a heap, my spike-arm still half-buried in her chest.

  I drifted off, to the sounds of approaching sirens and frantic footsteps, and someone - Elena, maybe? - screaming my name.