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Taylor was waiting for Emma in one of the unused underground parking lots. This one in particular had been turned into a makeshift throne room. Taylor had ordered the mercenaries to paint the floors black and to hang long bolts of black fabric from the walls and ceiling to hide the original use of the room. Taylor herself had made a throne in the far end of the room out of twisted steel and iron, and she sat on it as she waited. The black fabric made it feel almost like she was in a tent instead of underground in a repurposed endbringer shelter’s parking lot, which was amusing.
Two mercenaries escorted Emma into the room, pulling off her blindfold once the door in was closed. Taylor smiled grimly as she watched Emma look around like a frightened rabbit, shaking and all.
The other girl first eyed the two mercenaries holding her arms. With her arms cuffed behind her back, Emma had little chance of breaking out of their grasp, but she clearly placed some importance on trying to identify them. The mercenaries’ perfectly anonymous uniforms implied little beyond their professionalism.
Next, Emma spotted the black cloth transforming the dull parking lot into an ominous too-large tent. She frowned at it, which Taylor thought was a strange reaction. Was the fabric really so unusual? Was it really worth frowning about?
It was only after Emma had been dragged half-way across the room that she finally spotted Taylor, sitting in the gloom. She balked, pulling at the unrelenting grips of the mercenaries. But they just continued pulling her forward without pause, forcing her to stumble onwards. Emma stared at Taylor fearfully, eyes flicking over her armor and her throne.
And of course, Emma was frightened. Taylor was in her costume. There was little chance of Emma thinking Taylor was anything but an unknown cape, and a cape who could order people kidnapped at that. And Taylor was a cape. Taylor could, and had, ordered Emma kidnapped. Those were good reasons for Emma to fear her. But they were not the reason Emma should really be afraid.
That was their history together, the love and friendship they once shared, Emma’s betrayal, and Emma’s torment of Taylor. Finally, it was time for Taylor to get her revenge, and Emma would not enjoy it.
The mercenaries brought Emma close to Taylor’s throne, only stopping around five feet away from its base.
“Please,” Emma blurted out when Taylor did not break the silence. “There must be some mistake. They must have confused me with someone else. I didn’t do anything!”
“Do not be so certain, Emma Barnes,” Taylor said softly. “You have done much in your short life.”
Emma flinched at Taylor’s use of her name.
“It must have been an accident, then,” Emma insisted. “I don’t even know who you are!”
“Have you heard of a villain called Coil?” Taylor asked.
“No, uh, ma’am,” Emma answered. Taylor smirked at the honorific.
“He was a villain here in Brokton Bay,” Taylor explained. “Coil was very secretive, which is likely why you have not heard of him, but he had been operating around the city for nearly a decade. That ended recently, when I killed him and took over his organization.”
“You killed him?” Emma breathed. She tried to take a step back, but the two mercenaries stopped her.
“Yes, Emma, I killed him,” Taylor laughed. “I suppose it was out of character for me, but I have changed greatly since we last met, to your detriment.”
“I… I’m sorry, but I don’t recall meeting you,” Emma said. Her eyes were full of fear.
In answer, Taylor stood from her throne and took off her helm. She set it down on the seat behind her and met Emma’s eyes. She watched as confusion and surprise swept over Emma’s face.
“Do you recognize me now, Ems?” Taylor asked mockingly, knowing that Emma had.
“No, you’re lying!” Emma shouted, twisting against the mercenaries’ hold. “Taylor is weak! Taylor can’t be a cape! Taylor wouldn’t have the guts to kill anyone!”
One of the mercenaries let out a slightly hysterical laugh. Taylor assumed he was remembering some of Taylor’s other, even more brutal crimes. Perhaps, the one she had committed against him and all his fellow mercenaries. Someone who did not hesitate to master an entire small army could not be weak or incapable of killing.
“As my soldier there implied with his laugh, you are completely wrong,” Taylor stated, stepping closer. She had to step down the stairs on the dais of her throne, but her height allowed her to still loom over the much shorter Emma. “I am strong. I am a cape. And I most certainly have the guts to do whatever I choose to do.”
“But that’s impossible,” Emma said. Their eyes bored into each other. It seemed to Taylor that Emma was almost pleading with her. “You’re weak. That’s why… that’s why I had to get rid of you. I couldn’t have your weakness infecting me!”
“Do not be so silly. I have always been the stronger of the two of us,” Taylor dismissed. She didn’t fully believe her own words, but as long as Emma did, she would be pleased. “If you had been strong, you would not have needed to bully me to support your delicate ego.”
Sure enough, Emma flinched.
“I was proving my strength,” Emma insisted.
“Do not act as if you did not enjoy it,” Taylor scoffed. “Your cruelty fed your ego, and you were too weak to stop.”
“And you were too weak to stop me!” Emma exclaimed, her eyes becoming wild.
“I chose not to stop you,” Taylor corrected, lying through her teeth. “I chose not to be a burden on my father, because I knew that you would not stop without illegal action on my part. The faculty were, after all, too enamored with their Ward to try to stop you themselves.”
“You knew…” Emma whispered.
“That Sophia was a Ward? That she was the so-called hero Shadow Stalker?” Taylor grinned. “Of course. That is why I dealt with her first.”
Of course, she hadn’t known. Not until Sophia, dying and terrified, shifted into her breaker form in public, desperate to escape something she did not understand and could not see. But that did not fit the narrative Taylor was trying to build.
“No,” Emma whispered. Then she yelled, “No! Murderer! You bitch!”
Emma tried to spit on Taylor. Taylor dodged easily, too quick now to be caught by such a pathetic projectile. And then Taylor crossed the remaining distance between them. She raised a hand and slapped Emma hard across her face. Emma fell against one of the mercenaries, and would have fallen down if the two hadn’t manhandled her back up.
“Do not ever try that again,” Taylor snarled, her voice two-toned as something far older than humanity spoke with her.
“Sophia,” Emma whispered, her head bowed.
Taylor laughed.
“Are you sad your little friend died?” Taylor cooed. “Poor thing. She died terrified and alone. But she died quickly. You should envy her for that.”
Emma looked up. For the first time, all-consuming terror was truly scrawled across her teary face, without room for any other thoughts.
“What are you going to do to me?” Emma whispered.
Taylor grinned.
“Take her to her cell,” Taylor ordered, not looking away from Emma’s eyes.
She was rewarded with a fresh wave of fear as the mercenaries began to drag Emma away.