[Autumn, year 200X]
From an alley, a feral cat darts onto the crowded sidewalk, yowling as it weaves through pant legs and stockings. A number of morning coffees spill into metal drains as passersby jump back in surprise. The cat, in directionless escape, runs into oncoming traffic resulting in a string of wayside vehicles. In a matter of moments, the city block is filled with the smell of squealing tires and burnt asphalt.
Fortunately, a police cruiser around the bend watched the whole ordeal unfold. The cop inside sets his breakfast sandwich on the dashboard and hauls himself out of the car. "Another morning, eh?" He assures his partner that he can handle it, then struts onto the scene with celebrity pompous, taking his sweet time, and scoops the poor kitty up from the road. It kicks the cop's chin with its tail a few times before settling down.
After fitting it into his uniform pocket, he inspects the unharmed drivers. Before the people can cheer for the cat's safety, the cop takes out his notepad and starts handing out tickets.
"Oh, what the hell man?"—"...You piece of sh–"—"Someone needs to fire you."
"Just doing my job, people. Sorry, but you all should've been better drivers. This poor baby almost got smushed because of you."
From the police cruiser, the other cop bangs his head against the window, completely done with the man's antics. Just as he is about to get out of the car to stop his partner, a flicker in the distance catches his attention.
From the alley that the cat ran from, a shadow breezes out. Taking advantage of the street distraction, it weaves listlessly through the crowd and slips into a neighboring alley.
The cop is intrigued. Whatever scared the cat must have had something to do with this individual. He abandons his partner to the growing heat of the crowd and walks towards the alley. At this point, the drivers have gotten out of their cars to pelt the ticket-giving cop with tomatoes from the food stalls set up conveniently nearby.
As the man crosses the sidewalk, he hears clanking and metallic footsteps from the alley. He takes off his gloves letting the feel of anticipation heat his hands. The sidewalk has cleared meaning there won't be witnesses for what is to come.
He bursts into the alley.
No one is here.
"Hello? Anybody there?"
His measured steps take him deeper into the darkness. He wonders if the figure has already fled through the fire escape on the side of the rusted building. Nevertheless, he keeps his hands out and ready. It's been a minute since the man's gone gloveless, so he isn't sure if the sweat of his palms is that of excitement or fear. He hopes to get some practice in today.
His boot bumps into a pile of metal scraps causing a few rats to scamper out. If he used the bits of metal junk they could serve as flying darts, but that would take too much concentration, he thinks. How is he supposed to do this again?
As the officer contemplates what to do with himself, the cloaked figure crouching behind a pile of trashbags draws its hood further down its head. Whatever they were planning to do was interrupted by the strange man wandering into the alley. Perhaps it would be best to knock the intruder out, the figure thinks, and scoops a fistful of rubble from the ground. The man takes tentative, but quick steps towards its position. With closed eyes and slowed breathing, the rocks slowly fuse together within the open palm.
"Aha!" The cop shouts having neared the hiding spot. "I've caught y–" Before the man can finish, a sponge-holed rock is hurled at his head. His reflexes kick in so his knees duck for him, and the rock misses him by hairs. It smashes onto the ground behind him, exploding into chunks of pebble debris.
"Whoa! No need for violence!" The cop looks up in time to see the figure turning the corner of the alley. This is no longer a curiosity; he needs to know who this person is. He crouches down so his hands can wrap around the midsoles of his boots. Clenching both his hands and eyes, the man waits for them to come to life. When he stands, he is running through the alley with inhuman speed. His footsteps crackle against the pavement and the figure doesn't have time enough to process him pulling off their hood.
Rich layers of wavy brown hair flow free. She turns to look at the man as he tumbles into her, her eyebrows stitched with disgust. Why is this weirdo following me? The cop tries to break their fall by grabbing onto the wired fence to their side, but misses and his knuckles scrape against the sooty earth. They both wince.
"Ugh. Sorry, I couldn't control my speed." The cop brushes off his front. "Are you alright, miss?"
Despite half of her face being concealed by a mask, he realizes that the figure is merely a child, perhaps not more than fifteen. The girl pushes herself off the ground, giving him the stink eye.
The man coughs, embarrassed. "Well, I wasn't sure at first, but now that I've witnessed it for myself… You did something to the cat, didn't you?
"Just, wow. I've never seen that before in person." He laughs. "You know it's illegal, right? Using ivrent on living creatures."
The girl stills, the cop unsure of her next move readies himself to pull out his baton.
She turns to the officer, finally speaking, "...And why are you accusing me of this?"
"That cat had five legs. It ran out of the alley that you were in. You're fleeing the scene of the crime and even evading police capture."
"Wow. Okay. What if that was a birth defect? Huh? Did you think of that?"
"Well, you're dressed suspicious–"
"And I'm not evading police capture, you look like a lunatic trying to kidnap a child." The two have stood up at this point to better engage in their shouting contest. "In fact, I should call the cops on you, crazy man."
"Alright, young lady, I am clearly in my uniform and I don't take insults from criminals."
The kid scoffs, taking a quiet step backwards. "Still accusing me without proof. So unprofessional." She swings her arms out to her sides, asserting her dominance. "Fine. You look like a cop–" The cop nods approvingly at this acknowledgment "–A regular cop. Not even an inspector. Where's your badge, then?"
"Right here," the cop points to his chest, but his finger doesn't land on metal as he expects. He looks down to find that the gold plated emblem is no longer there. He freaks out, spinning in circles and looking to the ground for the dropped insignia. That thing is probably worth his entire career, losing it would mean a massive debt and dishonor on his name, not to mention expulsion.
The kid snorts. "It's right here, you buffoon." She swings the gold between her pointer and thumb so listlessly, she really has no respect for her elders. "I wonder, is it a crime to break police badges?" The girl laughs to herself before throwing the badge back to the cop before his tears manifest. He quickly pins it back to his lapel, his lifeline secured. "You are so bad at your job, man."
"Kid, where are your parents? Did they not teach you to respect your elders or even just people in general?" He pauses to collect his thoughts. "I just…don't know how to deal with reckless kids. I mean, am I supposed to detain you but without a physical altercation?"
"Is that a question?"
"Yes?"
"Well, I mean I haven't committed a crime, so, no? …Can I go?"
"Huh. Okay." The cop seems to accept this turn of events, "Okay," before realizing–"But you definitely tried bashing my head in with that rock grenade earlier. HEY!"
The girl turns to run.
Just as the two are about to initiate another chase sequence, the girl holds out her hand and the cop instinctively stops.
With her nimble fingers, she grabs onto the metal pattern of the chain-link fence to their sides. Within a blink, the fence softens into a net. She throws it, directing the mesh to wrap itself around the cop, who can do nothing but gasp in surprise. As soon as the metal-not-metal fence touches his body, it hardens back to metal again, completely encasing the poor man in a burrito roll of rusted wire.
"Augh… Dammit, how are you so good at doing that?"
The girl looks at him with pity. "It's okay. One day you won't be a newbie, anymore." She jabs the fence with her boot. "It'll wear off, give or take, two hours." She turns to leave, but another thought comes to her. "By the way, that trick with the shoes? So primitive." With that final remark, she merges into the shadows once again.