The figure of a woman walked through the burnt out husk of a small house that was in an abandoned part of town. She was tall, with black obsidian like hair, blue jeans, grey tee-shirt, brown leather combat boots, a black half mask, and a white lab coat.

    Doctor Dread surveyed the damage done in the raid, and as far as she could tell the damage was minimal. ‘Almost as if it was set up-’ Just as she began to think this a hero stepped out of the shadows.

    “So you really did come. Oh excuse me, my name is Brandon, and you have some information that I need, Doctor Dread.” A smirk played across his lips. He had a hulking figure, and was tall with black hair, and pale blue eyes.

    She watched him for any change in his body language. “And what might that be?” Her eyes flicked up to look in his eyes and then she looked back down trying to see his next action.

    “No need to be so vigilant. I don’t plan on arresting one of the few people that is actually getting rid of all the bad guys. No, what I need is all the information you have on Morgan Martin.” Doctor Dread slowly began to relax as he told her he wasn’t arresting her, but she snapped to attention at the mention of Morgan, her body was ramrod straight, her shoulders were tense.

    “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE HER ALONE! SHE NEVER ASKED FOR PEOPLE TO DIG AROUND IN HER LIFE! WHY CAN’T SHE JUST LIVE IN PEACE!?!?!?” She roared her body vibrating with irritation and barely contained anger.

    “She deserves justice. The men and women that have hurt her need to answer for their crimes!” He took a step back and watched her as she began to pace back and forth like a caged animal.

    “WHAT IF SHE JUST WANTS TO BE LEFT ALONE!?!?!?!?” She snarled as her chest heaved.

    “This will give her peace! Who are you to deny her this?” He was starting to get angry. ‘Why won’t she help her. Doctor Dread is known to help those who genuinely help others. So why not Morgan?’ He was frustrated and flabbergasted.

    She spun to face him, she stalked to him with angry strides. “WHAT IF SHE JUST WANTS TO FORGET!?!? HAVE YOU ASKED HER WHAT SHE WANTS!?!? NO YOU HAVEN’T!!”

    He straightened towering over her. “What about her daughter. Doesn’t her daughter deserve justice? What about her?”

    And that’s when all heck broke loose. “HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU!!!! HOW CAN YOU DARE TO MENTION HER!!” Her rage boiled over. Her eyes changed from blue to the bloodiest red, and lost all reason. Her hair began to flutter as if in an invisible and non existent breeze. She looked at him with a feral snarl, and leapt at him with a defiant and deafening battle cry!

    She flew through the air and latched her legs around his neck, he stumbled under her sudden weight, she used his unstable footing to pivot around his neck flipping him down into the ground. She landed on her feet at her dismount, while he leapt from the ground into a ready stance. Again she charged, but this time he was ready.

    She reached for his throat with clawed fingers ready to rip out his jugulare. As quickly as he could Brandon grabbed her wrists and called out to her. “Dread get a hold of yourself!”

    She snarled and tried to bite him. He threw his other arm up in a block, her jaw clamped onto his wrist and ground her teeth breaking the skin. With a pained shout Brandon used his hold on her wrists to throw her across the burnt out building. The wall collapsed on top of her.

    Brandon looked at the rubble and then looked at his wrist. His blood trickled down his wrist to his fingers. He wiped it away and studied the damage to his flesh. There were 28 ragid tears in the skin, and blood was slowly welling up to fill the indentations.

Brandon swore. “What does this woman do to her teeth?!?!”

Just then there was the clater of stones falling and bouncing off each other. Turning he looked at the pile of ruble. “What?” He approached it cautiously. Just as he bent down to take a closer look, a hand shot through the rubble and wrapped around his throat. He scrabbled at her hand and tried to make her release her grip.

“WHY WON’T YOU JUST DIE?!?!?!” She stood up and roared as she clenched harder. She barely registered the pumping of the jugular. He looked up into her bloodshot eyes that were clouded by rage, and surprisingly enough fear.

In a last desperate attempt he clenched his fist and punched her in the stomach. This caused her to retaliate by throwing him into the wall opposite. He collapsed to the ground groaning.

Slowly she walked to him and pulled her gun from the holster on her hip, previously hidden by her lab coat, which was now toren and bloody from the cuts and scrapes she received from her tumble into the wall. She looked down at Brandon as he struggled to pull himself up and rested his back against the wall, and tried getting to his feet. As she watched him struggle she lifted her gun and then shot his left thigh, then his right.

He screamed and writhed on the ground, and fought for control over his body as black dots filled his vision. When he had regained control and blinked the black dots to the edge of his field of view. He looked up at the woman that had shot him, and froze. Confusion filled his eyes. “Morgan?” His voice rasped hoarse from pain and disbelief.

Doctor Dread reached up to feel her face, and in that moment realized her black half mask had fallen from her face when she had crashed into the wall. Panic filled her and she did the only thing she could think of. She pistol whipped the man on the ground. She hit him with such force his head whipped to the side and collided with the wall knocking unconscious.

Pulling her damaged and barley working phone from her pocket and pressed the dial button.

“James come pick me up. There was an incident, and bring along the unconscious man when you get here. Oh, and prepare the medbay.” She hung up the call before she finally crashed to the ground in exhaustion.

She looked at the Hero who leaned against the wall behind him. ‘Who is he? What does he know?’ She stared intently at his bruised and battered face. Slowly darkness started closing in on her vision.

Distantly she heard car doors slamming, shouting, and running. Dark brown leather shoes stopped in front of her blocking her view. “So you made it.” She slurred, and blacked out.

***

“..ke up... Wa.. up. Wake up!” Brandon lurched forward, but was stopped by the restraints that held him to a hard metal chair. Groggily he looked at his surroundings. He sat in a grey metal chair, in a painted white cinderblock room, with a studded iron door. He was still in his Hero costume, but his weapons and tools were stripped from him including the hidden ones.

Looking down he studied his restraints. They looked like plain handcuffs. He clenched his fists and tried to break them. Nothing happened. He furrowed his brow and tried again, again, and again. He strained and he struggled. “What?!?!”

“You can’t break those you know…” His head shot up to look for the voice, and there she was sitting in a wheelchair. Black hair falling around her shoulders, black suit and white lab coat, with black half mask back in place, sat a bruised Doctor Dread. “I made those specifically to tell the brain to shut off the powers of the individuals that are restrained.” She weakly laughed, but broke off into a fit of coughs.

Once she settled she sighed. “You really do pack a punch. Glad I came up with those a couple of years ago. They are coming in handy right now.” She smiled wryly.

“I see you dropped your ‘Doctor Dread’ persona.” He grumbled as he relaxed into his chair.

“She’s not really a persona, so much as another person in my head, and yes she has taken a break. Now seeing as you already know might as well take this off.” Without a second thought she removed her mask and placed it into her lap. She looked at her lap and scrubbed her face with her hands, then she looked up at Brandon.

The woman who sat before him was now none other than Morgan Martin. “Now that I am present why have you been searching for me? What do you want from me, and why should I not kill you for knowing my true identity?” She looked at the Hero in his black costume, and raised an inquisitive black eyebrow.

“Now that is a long story to tell.” Brandon shifted in his chair, and looked at the woman more fully. “And one you really need to hear.”

“Well? I’m waiting.” She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for him to break the silence. She studied him with a sharp look, that belied the soft smile that curled her lips.

His face was haggard, rugged and handsome. He had black hair and green-blue eyes. His nose was slightly ascue, it had most likely been broken and not reset properly, and just barely visible was a small white scar over the bridge of his nose. He had suntanned skin, his hands were hard, calloused and covered in little scars.

He sighed and leaned back into the uncomfortable chair.

“Well to start off I should introduce myself. My name is Brandon Leonard Jones Martin, and I am your half brother. We have the same father.” He paused to look at her. She shook her head. Denying that it was possible. “You are my little half sister. He got to me first.”

“If you are older and you knew about me. Why did you let it continue. You say he got to you first. Then why didn’t you save me? You knew yet you left me to him.” Her once smiling face was now fierce with anger.