Mindnet

People know about some of the caverns that run under the city, but few know how far they extend.

Under the bustling streets, 350 kilometers of tunnels lay.  Some lengths are a tourist attraction, filled with the bones of the nameless that cluttered massive cemeteries years ago.  Some lengths have been sealed off and are now inaccessible.  Warnings have been issued that the unsecured caverns are unsafe, and should be avoided. There is no light, no map, and nobody who can help those who venture in and become disoriented.

That knowledge still doesn't keep me from screaming for help.

Me look down at cold blue steel of pistol. 

Arm shaking as me pick it up.  Me look into mirror.  Shiny white eyes stare back.  No blinking.

Mouth wide, and me need to fill it with something.  But no have any money.  No job.  No hope.

SO HUNGRY!

Baker thought he was better than me.  Baker no give me what... I... NEED!!!!!

Me arm shaking as me lift pistol up to mirror.  Baker no deny me again.

Me blue fur wet with sweat.  Baker give me what me want this time. Or else.

"Give me... DA COOOOKIIIEEEE!!!!"

Me ready. 

It is always nice
running into an old friend
but not with your car.

I have decided to wear a full face mask.
Not because I'm disfigured or anything.  I just think that people would get to know me better if they had to really listen to what I have to say.
I may face some difficulty.  My parents will never understand.  Dating will be harder for sure.  Marriage may be an impossibility.  But I think that if I find a mate who can understand my motivation and love me anyway, it will be a relationship worth having.
Plus, becoming a superhero will be a lot easier if I already have the mask.

The news reports rolled in; some people listened in a sort of sickened comfort, others couldn't bear to think about it.
It would be almost instantaneous for those within 1000 miles of the impact site.  There wouldn't be time to be frightened.  Well, not after the asteroid hit.
Within 2500 miles, it would take thirty seconds to a minute or so from the initial impact until vaporization of... well, almost everything.
And so it went.  There was no denying that the world was doomed to extinction, it was just a matter of how much terror would have to be endured after the impact until the final moment of life.  All of mankind's intelligence, innovation and ingenuity could not save them from this cosmic juggernaut.
The shadow fell over the city.  Two minutes of darkness, and then it became daylight again.  People wept openly, and clasped onto strangers in the street, looking for comfort in their final moments.
A flash over the horizon, and the ground began to tremble.
At least, the camera began to shake before the feed went dark.   I turn my attention to the autopilot and suspension tank. 

We will start again.

"Race ya in!"

In the dark, there was a sploosh as skin collided with water.  I had already lost the race, but disrobed and dashed in.  As my eyes adjusted away from the campfire, I saw a dark head bobbing toward a cave in the rock face, her giggling echoing off the walls of the cove. 
"You shouldn't go in there," I called.  "Ogopogo'll get ya!"
"Well, whoever gets to me first gets to see me naa-keeed..."
I knew I lost another race when I saw her head disappear below the water.

 I doubt if it cared she was naked.

I didn't agree with them, but I was lumped in all the same.
From halfway around the world, the rhetoric was loud and clear: that we were a crazed bunch of religious zealots that had no respect for human life.
From the beginning I didn't support them, but there were a large number of people who didn't think that their message was all that bad.  They didn't approve of their methods or tactics, but that at its core, the message they carried was a good one.
At first, the Brotherhood seemed innocuous enough, even if they were strongly fundamentalists.  They called for "all brothers of the faith to stand shoulder to shoulder" and for us to "take up arms against the evils of the world".  They were only a few, but many believers who were disenchanted with the more liberal of the faith's institutions soon started to swell their ranks.
Then there were the international disagreements.  A president from the other side of the world denouncing the Brotherhood for "spewing hatred".  Our own government, grown weak from political infighting and increasing financial strain, couldn't form a cohesive response.  The Brotherhood growing in influence and finding financial backing.
Then the violence, the bombings.  Shock went through our nation as we were all painted as a bunch of Christian extremists, lumped in with the terrorists no matter how loudly we declared our disdain for them. The head of the Brotherhood forced into hiding, and international calls for his head. 
The war... their troops in our neighbourhoods, looking for members; every one of us was a suspect.
Atlanta became a war zone.  Thousands lie dead as "collateral damage".
Ten years before they found him, hiding on the outskirts of Windsor... He was killed. 
There was cheering around the world.

Sparkling waters trickle before me. It is more of a stream than a river; ancient, charmed waters, if the tales are to be believed.  Years of my life, relations with friends and family, and my entire fortune have been sacrificed for this one discovery - a tiny river nestled in a forgotten valley.

One final glance at your photo, and I set it aflame. Familiar pain wells up inside me as your face turns brown, and then to ash.  No matter.  If the legends are true, the waters will wash away all pain, all memory. 

 I wade in.

 And it’s true!  I forget the pain, the tears, my reason for coming here! Your face washes from my mind as I plunge my head under the water; a baptism of sorts.  A clean slate.  I’m peaceful for the first time I can remember-

 

 I find myself on the bank of a river.  Shivering, I pull my knees to my chest and wonder…

 …Where am I?

Hooting erupted from the crowd as “Elizabeth Stride” strolled down the walkway in a provocative Victorian bodice, enticing the men with her suggestive movements.

“Didn’t I tell you?” you said, elbowing me excitedly and grinning. “The best part’s still coming!”

A dark figure emerged, also dressed in Victorian garb.  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as the cheers changed to something more… sinister?

I thought it was fake at first; then, horror.  The flash of a straight razor, the spray of blood.  The crowd’s savage cry... 

I guess I misunderstood what you meant when you invited me to "the Ripper’s".

I remember her last day.

The cancer had taken over most of her lungs, and was spreading rapidly.  She said she was almost ready, that she had lived a full life and made her little corner of the world a better place.  Her room was overflowing with encouraging messages, baskets of flowers and the odd stuffed animal.  The news channels featured a story about her work with challenged and at-risk youth, and many heartfelt, emotional interviews with people that she had helped.  Her eyes sparkled at each face on the screen, and I felt her weak grip tighten on my hand in hers.

There was a sadness, though, in those sparkling eyes. I asked what was the matter.

"Oh, it's nothing, really."  A gentle smile tried to conceal her flash of emotion, but I could see behind the mask.

Regret.

"Gram, so many people admire you.  You've done so much for so many, and inspired others to keep that going."

"I know," she said, glancing out the window.  "I've lived a good life.  Done good works."

"But?"

She turned her sparkling eyes, now brimming with tears, to mine.  She smiled that same gentle smile, her voice trembling as she spoke.  "I never learned how to waltz."

I led.