The flames raged on. Devouring any and all obstacles that dared to stand in their path, reducing all persons into charcoal husks, and rending much of the surrounding forestry into a cinder. But eventually, this destruction met its end. The billowing clouds that loomed over Murinova expanded from the deluge of smoke that emanated below. And within less than an hour, these seemingly unstoppable flames were assaulted by a downpour, staggering and weakening them while fire departments from neighboring settlements attempted to do the same. They ultimately succeeded in their attempts at quelling the inferno, but it was not without heavy losses, even beyond the borders of Murinova.
The dense forests of this county were scarred with ashen blots of destruction and death. Strains of smoke and loose embers still found some way to burn despite the dampness that now subsisted across this tattered landscape. It would be decades before these woods would return to their former glory. But there was at least something to build upon. At least the burnt remnants of trees would serve as fertile ground for a new generation of life.
This was not the case for the epicenter of this disaster, Murinova, which was reduced to little more than ruin. The battle between Abi and her parents resulted in the destruction of the more sturdy and flame resistant buildings in Murinova, and the rest barely had a single wall still standing after taking the brunt of a napalm-based inferno.
As the brave and bold firefighters looked over this landscape, they could only see ash and death. It was a land coated in darkness, devoid of any semblance of life and, due to the magnitude of the devastation, would likely never be home to any person ever again. They could do little but carry themself away, hanging their heads sullenly. For they had witnessed one of the greatest feats of destruction in the brief history of this country. An event of such magnitude that it called journalists from across the tri-state area, who rushed by car or helicopter in order to capture and report this horrific devastation.
Come nightfall, this area was abandoned beyond outposts around its charred borders, preventing any foolhardy onlookers from mucking about in the tattered wasteland. It was an event that would go down in history. A mystery that people would be investigating for years to come. And an event for many to mourn, as the estimated body count behind this event was within the range of 3,000.
At the center of this bed of ash and ruin, there was one person. An individual whose bright clothing shined amidst the blackness that surrounded them. They were gyrating as they walked, swaying their person around, while listening to a Walkman, loosely murmuring to the lyrics as they passed through their eardrums.
“—Gonna come in first place! People on their way… just what did you expect? Gonna burst into flame! Bahahaha! Burning down the house!”
As these words escaped Vice’s lips, dripping with a merry inflection, they paused their walk, brought their headphones to their neck, and began to look over the remains they had been frolicking through. While doing so, they spoke to themself, confident that their words would not fall on the ears of any living soul, and uncaring if they did.
“I think I can safely say that nothing is left of dear old Murinova. Meaning that I can put this eccentric chapter of my life behind me. Thousands of lives, many innocent, all gone and rendered into nothing more than a lifeless husk of carbon. Everything they knew and loved has been demolished and painted in black. Just black. Black as in the absence of color or light. Black as in the shadows that lurk within the night. Black as in the other, the deviant, and the lesser. Black as in my soul, which is rotten to its core. Black as in my heart, which cares not for my once-fellow man. Black as in the skin and hair of my current form. Black as in a color epitomized with evil and death. Black as in… myself. Black as in… Vice. Black… Vice. Heh, I quite like the sound of that.”
“Vice is the succession and transformation. The misdeeds that humans are so enamored by. And even a tool that holds and restrains something as it is tampered. That, mingled with the plethora of negative connotations that may be assigned to black… yes, I find that name to be quite fitting. Going forward, I shall not simply be known as Vice, but rather… Black Vice. Oh yes! That name tickles my fancy quite thoroughly.”
“But now that I have undergone such a transitory and revelatory day, the question remains… What shall I do with myself now? Deific might courses throughout my being, and now I need to choose how I wish to express my powers to the world. I have already made a greater impact than most could possibly conceive of— having crafted the worst tragedy this nation has experienced in a century, if not in the entirety of its brief history. But what is next for me?”
“What is a god to do in order to entertain and stimulate themself? …I do suppose that, before I indulge in my divinity freely and experiment in the pursuit of happiness, I ought to eliminate my remaining baggage. I care not for settling the life of Jessie Shines, who will likely be assumed dead once the government investigates this wreckage in detail. But my original life is one that dearly needs a conclusion, or at least an epilogue. And mayhaps it is the influence of Abigale Quinata, but I am finding the idea of murdering them to be quite enticing. Oh, but that is nearly a thousand miles away… Shall I travel in style, not travel at all, or slum it like a pitiful human, denying myself an opportunity to express my divinity in favor of other opportunities? Oh, decisions, decisions.”
As this string of pontifications persisted, a small rustling caught Vice’s attention. A heap of rubble that nudged itself. Vice stopped and began looking at the remains, which nudged themself again, and again, and again until a hand burst from the debris, one donned in metal and bearing a green arm beneath it. Vice’s eyes went wide as they saw this arm, and they wasted no time running to it, prying away at the debris around the arm, and eventually plucking away enough ashen wreckage to free a familiar face. It was Abi Quinata, still donned in her hero outfit, and still in her adult form. As she was freed from this mound of burnt garbage, she fell to the ground and bent over, coughing up stray bits of soot while Vice looked at her with bewilderment.
“How the hell are you still alive?”
“Heroes… never die!” Abi said before resuming her coughing fit.
“…No, they do. Anything and everything eventually dies… except for me. But I suppose that since you, my little dear, are technically part of me, perhaps that means you are also immortal. Interesting.”
“Oh, really? Heh, I guess I was right then, this hero won’t ever die!”
“Except for the time you died because I ate you, and then resurrected you in your current form. …I could easily end your existence if I so willed it, I’m sure.”
“…But you don’t want to… right?”
“After that display of yours earlier today? And after our fight last night? Perish the thought.”
“That’s goody goody gumdrops then… but what am I supposed to do now? I just wanted to make my parents all dead, but now that they’re nothing but specks of unidentifiable monster ash… I don’t really have anything else. I don’t have a home or anything to go back to, and thanks to you, I have enough awareness to know that I cannot hope to live on my own, without an ID, or without any money. You’re kind of the only person I really know, and while you are a super-duper bad person who killed all of these people, that… weirdly does not bother me too much. I guess that part of you may have affected me when you made me smarter and stuff, and… could I tag-a-long with you?”
“Heh. I cannot say that I ever expected this but… I’ll take you up on that offer. Hell, I was about to ask if you wanted to travel with me.”
“R-Really?”
“Yes, really. You’re entertaining, you have some moxie, and… like it or not, you’re a part of me now. I like you Abi, and after all we’ve been through, I consider you a friend… in some bizarre roundabout way. Besides, I’d rather not travel a thousand miles on my own.”
“Oh? Are you going somewhere?”
“You made the act of parricide seem so joyous and entertaining that I feel the need to do the same. Especially after my parents wronged me… but not as much as yours.”
“Huh. Well, if they wronged you, then I guess that’s okay. So where do you live… and how are we getting there?”
“Virginia, mon chère. I’ll summon a vehicle for the road, you’ll drive it until dusk, we’ll find a motel, and carry on our journeys through the morrow.”
“Um, I don’t know how to drive, though.”
“I already awakened your mind well beyond the normal intelligence of a 7-year-old just by patting your head. How easy do you think it would be for me to teach you how to drive?”
“So easy that you could probably do it with a snap of your fingers.”
“Ha! Now you’re getting the hang of it,” Vice said before they snapped with their left hand.
“…Wait, why are we even driving there if you can probably just open a portal there or something?” Abi asked, bringing a hand to her chin.
“For the same reason why I’m not flying throughout the Milky Way at the speed of light while singing Don’t Stop Me Now. Because it would be dull! A life devoid of conflict, limits, or strife is an empty one, and that is certainly not how I want to conduct my life as an all-powerful being. But at the same time, it would be an utter waste if I didn’t use my powers to get around the more obnoxious mundanities I encountered throughout my travels.”
From there, Vice raised their hands up high in an exaggerated pose and snapped their fingers with both hands, causing a red pickup truck to appear from nothingness and land on the mostly unobscured soot-stained road. But that was not the only change that Vice concocted, as Abi underwent yet another transformation.
Her green spandex was traded in for a casual red flannel shirt, cushy jeans, and basic gym shoes, while her adult woman body underwent numerous changes. She was considerably taller, her hair was at least 3 centimeters shorter, and her once ample chest had receded. As the transformation ended, she tugged away at her shirt, unbuttoning it to reveal a flat and distinctly male chest with a set of maintained abs.
Abi acted upon this revelation by rushing to the truck and examining herself in its side mirrors, finding her face to bear a larger chin, brow, and less pronounced cheeks. But she still held an androgynous look to her new form, helped by the loose fit of her top, her shoulder-length hair, and eyelashes that had retained their plentiful length. Normally such a transformation would have been the cause for panic, but considering what Abi had gone through over the past 24 hours, she was more curious than anything.
“Why the flip am I a boy now?” She said as her voice cracked, giving way to a deeper and distinctly masculine intonation.
“You always struck me as the boyish type, so I figured you may as well get to see what all the fuss is about having a dick between your legs.”
“Oh, alright, I guess… What’s a dick?”
“Hm… I’ll give you a very detailed showcase of your new friend and the many joys inherent to manhood once we reach a motel. For now, it’s about time we part ways with this town, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yeah, not a lot here unless you’re aiming to start a collection of burnt skulls. Speaking of which, can I take one as a keepsake?”
As Abi said that, she grabbed a tattered corpse that was littering on the sidewalk near the pickup truck, and plopped off its head with ease.
“Heh. I knew I was forgetting something. Now then, with the matter of mementos taken care of, you drive and I’ll… Hm…”
Vice lingered on their words as they looked above and beyond the destruction they brought. The stars shined with the same intensity and beauty as they did the night prior , with the only change being a sliver of moonlight that accompanied them. It was a beautiful image of stray lights glimmering throughout an endless stretch of blackness, and for all the vile lurking within their person, even Vice found beauty in this simple sight.
“…I’ll sit in the back, look up at the stars and… get reacquainted with a love that I have not indulged in for the better half of a decade.”
Following that declaration, Vice effortlessly plopped themself into the back of the pickup truck and positioned themself behind the rear panel, giving them something to lean on while still getting a good look at the stars. They tried settling themself into a comfortable position for a moment, before snapping their fingers again to place two pillows between them and the truck. One for their rump, and one for their back. They manually adjusted themself as Abi started the engine, and began making their way down the rubble-riddled roadways of Murinova. Once the car began moving, Vice snapped once again, this time summoning a guitar that rested against their breasts. Upon adjusting the instrument around their relatively new proportions, Vice began to strum and tune the instrument methodically.
Once they were comfortable, Vice broke out into a song with their guitar, providing vocals as they strummed to a familiar tune from their formative years, Country Roads, but with a twist. A twist that would have theoretically ruined the sense of elation and serenity that Vice always associated with the song. Yet with their honeyed voice and intonations, the song managed to shine even while draped in a blackened shroud.
All in heaven, Murinova.
Charcoal landscape, blaze-riddled remnants.
Life has left here, even in the trees.
Smoking like a mountain, spreading in the breeze.
Ashen roads, take me home. To the place I was born.
Sweet Virginia. Kill my mama.
Take me home, blackened roads.
All those memories, they reside there.
Eating kiddies, strangling in the water.
Bright and musty, what a place to die.
Bitter taste of bloodshed, teardrops from an eye.
Bloody roads, take me home. To the place I belong.
Best Virginia. Kill my papa.
Take me home, burning roads.
I hear her voice, for she forever is inside me.
She’ll keep me company as we travel far away.
And looking past this road I get a feeling.
That I might get back there Sunday… but not today!
Oh I should have done this yesterday… yesterday!
Ashen roads, take me home. To the place I was born.
Sweet Virginia. Kill my mama.
Take me home, blackened roads.
Bloody roads, take me home. To the place I belong.
Best Virginia, kill my papa.
Take me home, burning roads.
Take me home, down ashen roads.
Take me home… down country roads.
And so the two drove off eastward, moving past the charred landscape of Murinova and entering a lush forest that survived the cataclysmic inferno. It would be a significant trek for Vice to reach their destination, but it would not be their last. Far from it. This was merely the start of Black Vice’s story, and while their future routes were unknown, even to themself, the possibilities were endless.
Das Ende
