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6

Kizzi squatted in a tidal pool and watched as her little brother, driftwood stick in hand, poked a crab he'd knocked upside down. The crustacean, about the size of a dinner plate and bright red, clacked and spewed bubbles as Mickey prodded its softer underside. The grey kitten, oblivious to the repercussions of his actions, cackled as the crab began to rock back and forth.

Kizzi, a kitten herself of ten years, rolled her green eyes as the crab came oh so close to righting itself. Mickey just jabbed it again, though, and it fell onto its back once more. Still, it never stopped trying to roll over. Kizzi admired the thing, but not as much as she felt annoyed by the pathetic spectacle it and her brother made. Looking down, she focused on the ocean-things within her pool. They were far more interesting than boy-versus-crab...

Which is what she wished were true.

Piss-warm salt water came up to her knees when she stood, the pool lined with sticky black stones covered in flaked moss and gull crap. It was about as big as her brother's kiddy-pool back at the house; not wide or deep enough to swim in but still capable of causing a drowning. Since the tide had gone out, little silver fish had gotten trapped and swam around her feet. They nibbled on her toes, reflecting the sunlight overhead and blinding her when they'd gather together. There were no interesting shells at the bottom or anything, just dark sand that clouded when she'd move. Altogether pretty boring. She couldn't remember why she'd brought Mickey out here. And everything smelled like brine, that sickly-sweet twang of stagnant water and green algae which she'd come to despise since moving to the coast.

Clack-clack went the crab a few feet away; _har-har-har_went her brother.

"It's gonna' get you, squirt," she called, not bothering to look up as the sand clouded around her ankles and the little fish darted all around. She raked some ginger hair from her face.

"Come look, Kizzi! It's so mad!"

Clack-clackedy clack.

She huffed. "Leave it alone, Mick."

Instead, the younger kitten laughed all the more. She could clearly hear the crab spewing bubbles like crazy. It sounded like it was even starting to hiss.

"Mickey--I'm tellin' you..."

"Ha-haha-hahahaha..."

A wave thundered onto the shore a ways away; Kizzi felt the impact through the sand, the water in her pool rippling. A lone gull called from a roost somewhere up the beach. Five pelican shadows passed quickly overhead. Mickey screamed, and the sound was carried past her ears by a gust of sandy wind. She sighed and looked up.

The crab was still struggling to roll itself over. Mickey was turned away and looking down the beach with a shocked expression stilling his whiskers and flattening his ears. Kizzi followed the boy's gaze, and--half a mile down the beach--she spotted a black mound of flesh rolling out of the waves and onto the sand. It smoked in the sun for a minute but then stopped. Kizzi's eyesight wasn't great so the thing was blurry from the distance, and she couldn't make out any distinguishing features besides its sheer size and whale-like form. Then two trunk-like legs erupted out of it and it stood. It swayed, turned, and then its upper half ripped in two. A mouth. It started walking toward Kizzi and her brother.

"Godammit," Kizzi growled as she stepped out of her pool and onto the hot sand, tail flicking water behind her.

Mickey had turned pale and his legs were shaking. He collapsed onto his knees mewing and gasping as he watched the black thing approaching.

Clackedy-clack clack--clackedy went the crab, which finally righted itself. Its black eyes swiveled on their stalks before locking onto Mickey's form in the sand, and then it hissed and scuttled from side to side in vengeful agitation. So eager, it was, to payback the humiliation which was due to the small, furry one...

Sma-crack!

Kizzi smacked the red crustacean out to sea. It skipped like a stone across the water, legs and claws flinging off at its velocity. The ten year-old shouldered her magically appeared, mammoth war-hammer, stepping on one such claw. It crunched goo between her toes, but she was too focused on the monster that was coming closer and picking up speed.

"Go back home, Mick-Mick," Kizzi whispered as she walked past her brother.

She saw him flinch as she brushed his shoulder with her tail, but that was the only move he made. He eyed the hammer leaned casually over his sister's shoulder, the head of the weapon three times bigger than its wielder, bright and shiny silver with filigree designs weaving over its surface. The handle was as long as an axe's and wrapped tightly in dark, spicy smelling leather, a pommel with an iron ring stuck through it at the bottom. The hammer seemed to blur whenever Kizzi would move, like it was anxious, like it wanted to pound something. Crab goo was splattered on one of its flat sides.

Kizzi turned back to her brother, her red hair whipping in the sea breeze.

"Go home, Mick. Right now."

Mickey leaned to the side. Past his sister, the monster was still coming. It must have hit some looser sand, though, as it had slowed down. Its massive, hinged head was downturned as if it was watching its step. Sunlight struck Kizzi's hammer and Mickey squinted his eyes. She stepped toward him.

"Papa said to not use that anymore," Mickey whined, his head drooping.

Kizzi swept the mammoth weapon through the air as if it was featherweight. She dropped it headfirst into the sand, handle up, hand clasped on the pommel. It shook the ground when it struck.

"I don't give a shit what papa said."

Mickey had tears in his eyes. "But...but papa..."

"Papa's gone," Kizzi hissed. "Now go home." She turned in a flourish, dragging the hammer behind her and leaving a trench in the sand. She whipped it up and clenched its handle tight.

Why must you be so cruel to him, baby?

Kizzi glared at her weapon. "I'm not cruel..."

You treat him like a stupid infant...

"He's six years old. He has to grow up some time."

Kizzi, not everyone can grow up as fast as you did. I wish you'd been able to have a childhood. This...this...

The hammer trembled in her grasp. The sand burned her foot-pads, but she trudged on. The monster had spotted her. It was running now.

This isn't what I wanted for you, baby girl.

Kizzi smiled. There was warmth in her heart. "That's fine." She spread her stance and turned her left side toward the monster. She pulled the hammer's head close to her mouth and whispered to it. "It's what I wanted for me." She kissed it then held it at the ready again.

The beach shook. The monster roared. Kizzi could smell its sulfuric scent, its putrid, sunburnt flesh. Five more lunging strides and it would be on her. It had eight eyes, she noticed, now that it was close enough for her to see. They were milky white. Its mouth, long and alligator-like, was lined with rows of needle-teeth.

I love you, baby.

"I love you, too, papa."

Mickey's out of harm's way.

Kizzi smirked. The monster, as big as a full-sized SUV, loomed over her, opening wide to snap her head from her shoulders, seemingly amused that such a tiny mortal wasn't pissing themselves or fainting at this point. Especially a _female._Then its jaws snapped closed around nothing, teeth breaking upon themselves. She was gone.

She was behind it, up in the air, appearing in a rushed blur. Her mouth was split by a battle-smile. She swung her hammer and it bashed the monster's skull in, sending it rolling across the strand in a spray of hot grit. Its two legs bicycled in the air for a moment, but then--somehow--it was getting back up. Its long, bottom jaw was flopping: unhinged. With a crack it snapped back into position.

The creature surveyed its tiny prey from a distance. Kizzi stood at the ready.

Strike first, baby.

Kizzi nodded. Poleaxe, she thought, reaching through the world's ether into the dimension that was left for her. Her father had called it her armory; she called it Heaven. She grasped the weapon she'd summoned with her will, and hammer became a poleaxe in her little hands. The monster roared, and Kizzi spun the armament overhead before whipping it down in an arch, the silver pole extending out lightning-fast, the bladed head burying itself in the monster's heart...or where a heart should have been.

Darkness...that was all she could sense within the creature.

Now, Kizzi. Light'em up.

The monster struggled backward. She woke the weapon's ability with a quick prod of her consciousness, and white lightning sparked through the poleaxe and spider-webbed through the demon. Because that's what it was: evil.

The demon twitched and gurgled, smoked and dripped black ichor, and then the light cracked through it like fissures and it evaporated before her eyes. She hadn't even broken a sweat. She wasn't even breathing hard.

"Pussy," Kizzi said, spitting onto the sand. "That was too easy."

A lone gull called again, the sound eerie in the silence which had fallen.

There was no trace of the demon at all when Kizzi examined the ground around where it had vanished. Only the footsteps it had taken remained, pressed hard into the beach.

That one was bigger than the others.

The kitten nodded and looked around. As always, the beach was abandoned so no one had seen the fight...if you could call it that. Kizzi didn't think it was much of a fight at all.

"Bigger, but not badder." She focused, and the poleaxe became a stiletto dagger; much less gawky and easier to hide. She still held it at the ready, though, kneeling down beside a monstrous footprint. Mickey could have laid down in it and not filled the space. "In fact, it was stupider than the other ones. It came right at us. No tricks. No being sneaky."

They've never appeared in daylight before, either.

"No," Kizzi agreed. She stood and readjusted her pink one-piece so it wasn't biting into her crotch. "Something's not right."

I agree.

"Where's Mickey?"

I...I can't sense him nearby.

Kizzi's fur bristled and tingles shot down her spine. She clutched the handle of the dagger until the tendons in her hand popped. "He couldn't have gone that far away." She turned toward where Mickey had been before the fight broke out, walking quickly over to the depressions his knees made in the sand. The crushed crab claw was still there, too. "He never goes that far away."

Calm down, baby. Follow his tracks.

Kizzi brushed some unruly hairs out of her eyes and looked down. Indeed, Mickey's little footprints winded up the beach. She hastily followed them between some dunes and into the reeds, calling her brother the whole time. He never replied. He always replied.

The little girl whimpered as she came to a sudden stop. The tracks had ended. They'd just...disappeared. Sand all around, and her brother had left nothing more to follow. It was impossible unless he flew off, but Mickey didn't have any powers. He was normal. He was weak. He was vulnerable.

"Papa," she whined. "I'm scared."

She was never scared. Never.

Kizzi...

"Where is he!?"

Kizzi!

She raced about in a circle, sand flinging, tears streaming down her face and making her fur sticky. "Where's my baby brother!? Mickey! MICKEY!"

Kizzi! Watch out!

There was a thud behind her, and Kizzi whipped around to see yet another black form crouched down with a ring of dust settling around them. Two black, ribbon-like drapes connected to the figure wafted down between a pair of enormous, leathery wings. Bone-white hair curtained onto the sand. It shifted, and Kizzi could only grit her teeth as it rose a bit, revealing a burden in its elegant arms.

Mickey's unconscious form. There was blood on his face.

The demon lay the boy down, and then it stood. It (or she) was curvy and busty; her eyes were blood-red. Her face was that of a bat, teeth gruesomely sharp. She smiled and Kizzi moaned in fright. She motioned toward Mickey. "Sorry about scar..."

Wappa-crack!

Kizzi didn't scream, she just acted. Her hammer appeared in a flash and then she'd knocked the bat chick into the wide blue yonder before it could hurt Mickey even more. Huffing quick breaths, she stood over her brother waiting for the demon to reappear, but it didn't.

Honey...

She bent down over Mickey and dabbed at the blood on his face. There was a cut on his forehead with sand dried into it.

"Mick-mick," she said, patting his cheeks. He didn't stir. "Mickey!"

Kizzi, baby-doll...

She shook her brother roughly and his eyes sprung open. She sighed, relief making her legs go weak, and the younger kitten wrapped his arms around her.

"Kizzi!"

"Are you alright, Mickey? That thing didn't hurt you did it!?"

"No," he said, pulling back from her. To her surprise, he was smiling. "You went after the big one, and then little ones came after me and I fell and hit my head, but bat-lady saved me! She swooped down and got me, then she mashed the bad things and they popped!"

Kizzi cocked an eyebrow and her stomach tied itself into a knot. "What? The bat-lady...she saved you?"

"Yep," came a pleasant, female voice. Kizzi immediately tensed and turned to find the bat woman approaching, her left hand clutched over her right shoulder; her right wing was bent in an awkward position that looked painful, but she was smiling. "I saved him." She winced and stopped a good distance away from Kizzi. "No need to thank me or anything."

Mickey stood and brushed by his sister, alarmed. "What happened, bat-lady!? Are you hurt?"

Kizzi growled and grabbed ahold of the back of Mickey's swimming trunks, pulling them haphazardly low and revealing the tops of his butt cheeks. Still, the little boy stopped in his tracks and smacked at his sister's hand to no avail.

"O'course she's hurt," Kizzi yelled. "I just knocked her clear to Timbuktu!"

"Yeah," the bat said as she rubbed her right shoulder, "Please don't do that again."

"Why'd you hit her?" Mickey asked, his little tail whipping against his ankles.

Kizzi flourished her hammer. "I thought she'd hurt you!"

"Well she didn't!" Mickey finally got his sister to let go, and he waggled a finger at her. "Say you're sorry!"

Kizzi...

"What!? No way am I apologizing!"

Mickey stomped his feet in the sand. "Say you're sorry, Kizzi! Or I'm going to tell mom!"

Kizzi!

"What, papa!?"

Mickey's brow beetled and he squinted at his sister. "Papa?"

The bat-lady cleared her throat and the two kids glared at her. She held up her hands defensively, wincing as she did, her large ears turning this way and that. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but I think this has gotten out of hand a little."

Kizzi spit. "No shit, bat-bitch! Who the hell are you?"

"Oh my damn," said bat-lady, her eyes widening, hand covering her mouth as she stared at the disgruntled kitten. "You are your father's daughter, alright. Filthy mouth and everything."

Kizzi shoved Mickey aside and tromped toward the bat, hefting her hammer as she did. "I'm gonna' mess you all kinds'a up, ho!"

The bat let out a shrill "Eek!"

Enough!

And Kizzi squealed as the hammer suddenly weighed as much as it appeared to weigh. It thudded to the ground and the area shook. Kizzi's hand was trapped wrapped around the handle, and she grunted and spat and hissed as she tried to get loose. But she couldn't let go. She could never let go. The weapon was a part of who she was and there was no relinquishing it.

Stop acting like an obnoxious little brat and let her speak!

Kizzi stopped struggling. "Papa..."

The bat smiled. It wasn't a mocking or pity filled smiled, but an understanding one. "I am sorry, Mackenzie..."

"Don't call me that." Then the kitten looked at the bat--really looked--brow and ears cocked. "How do you know my name?"

The bat swept her lengthy white hair over the left side of her face and her red eyes faded into a crystalline blue. They popped out from her black fur like gem stones. "Me and your dad were good friends," she said. "Your mom and I still are, but we don't meet in person all that much anymore." She got a ponderous look on her face and jutted out her hip; she counted off on the fingers of her right hand and didn't flinch. "Today's the first day in almost nine years."

"Who are you?"

Black wings spread for an impressive spectacle of leather and armor-clad vigilante. "My name is Chloe Blair, but you might know me as Lady Lilith."

Kizzi gasped. She was in awe, which didn't happen that often, much like her becoming afraid. Her hammer became light to her again, but she dismissed it instead of picking it back up. She knew she wasn't in danger anymore and let it fade back into the ether.

"You...you're a superhero?"

Chloe smirked. "Yep! And, boy, do I have a surprise for you."