The Cheshire

Roxanna. The Cheshire.
She stood.
Her bloody and bruised legs threatened to collapse under her petite frame, however, she stood. Crimson liquid flowed freely out of her wounds and down on to the shattered concrete below her. Her stance was tired, her back slumping slightly, her feet a shoulder length apart from each other and her arms dangled almost lifelessly to her sides. The clothes that managed to remain on her body were badly torn and tattered, as well as covered with sweat, dirt and dark blood. The numerous large gaping holes in her clothes revealed wounds thick with dark clotted blood against her pale skin.

Her dangerous dark emerald gaze pierced into the eyes of enemies ahead of her. Her brows were close to her eyes, her nose flared, her lips pursed shut and her jaw clenched. She had a serious expression etched on her face. Her face seemingly carved out in stone, her emotions unwavering from the time that the hellish combat had begun. Her blood trickled down her pale fingers, dripping and staining the ground beneath her. Besides the audible sound of her plasma falling, and the rustle of rubble from a fallen building settling, nothing else could be heard. It was haunting. Almost disturbing how quiet it was.

The massive army had an almost precise robotic quality. Their movements were perfect, seemingly preplanned, and all exact with one another. The foreign soldiers peered through their darkened helmets right back at the woman, their eyes never daring to move away. Their hands never loosening grip on their strange weapons, their finger never moving off of the trigger. If they did, it was almost certain that they would all be dead.

The horrifying sound of another building toppling and crashing to the earth broke the silence once more. This was the hero’s and her enemies battle ground. She did not have the luxury of choosing it, her thoughtless opponents settled here, and there was nothing she could do. Above the city, high in the sky swirled terribly dark clouds. What had brought on the sudden change in weather was unknown to the people of the city. In the back of everyone’s mind, they suspected that it meant a bad omen.

Dust fogged the visibility greatly, except for The Cheshire and her side kicks. In the pit of what remained of the entrance to the subway huddled survivors in the immediate area, as well as hero’s side kicks. Everyone’s eyes were wide as they attempted to watch their battered hero. The shared emotions of fear, hope, panic and desperation all coursed through their veins. From what it appeared, their hero was getting weaker. The battle couldn’t have come at a worse time.

For as long as any one could remember she had been an unchanging symbol of hope and light against anything that stood for obliteration and darkness. Her features never changed, she never aged, and she had become a cornerstone to humans. Not just American’s, but for the world. It was acknowledged that for at least 90 years she had been fighting crime, stopping wars, and saving the earth from it’s self, however she still looked like she was at least 21 years old.

She had the routine super hero attributes, strength and endurance but what set her apart was her flexibility, speed and her smarts. Her mind was as sharp as a tack, which helped her greatly in combat. It saved her from losing appendages, her life, and the lives of those around her.

However, this time, it was evident that she was losing the battle. The reason for her losing the battle wasn’t because she had made a mistake; it was because she was getting weaker. Her mind was sharp but her body just couldn’t keep up. Her strength and endurance were deteriorating at a rapid rate. Even just breathing was getting hard for The Cheshire. She was well aware of why this was happening to her.

Anila. The Bird.
Her face, usually smooth and soft was creased with deep wrinkles and worry lines. Her brows were pulled down more towards her eyes and her mouth was open. Her azure eyes were clearly filled with deep fear, concern and spilling forth great blue tears that rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't hide her fright. She was tightly clutching her yellow dress as she watched what was unfolding before them, her eyes never once leaving the scene and rarely blinking. She, along with the other side kick, knew why The Cheshire was struggling.

In a few minutes, it would be Roxanna’s 100th birthday. Because she would be turning 100; her soul would leave the body and not have to enter reincarnation again but be allowed to stay in nirvana. Then a different soul would be reincarnated into her body. It resembles the changing of the guards, so to speak. Usually the different soul would be that of someone who had a sudden death, may still remember insignificant details of their past life and is so close to reaching nirvana but can’t quite grasp it yet.

Anila released a soft sob as the watched The Cheshire, who refused to allow her enemies to see her pain. Essentially, Roxanna was dying.

It was sad for Anila and the other sidekick, having gotten so attached to Roxanna. However they knew that it was their duty to train the new Cheshire, and they were aware the Roxanna would be free of the suffering that comes along with living.

Lionel. The Mouse.
The man allowed a few tears to slip past his eyes as he huddled against Anila, comforting her. Lionel had a particular attachment to Roxanna. Over the years of being her sidekick, he had fallen in love with her. Her personality and mannerisms immediately caught his attention. He never admitted it to her, but he was certain that she knew.

With an abrupt gasp leaving her pale lips, Anila’s eyes widened as one of her hands unclenched her dress and swiftly pointed back to the scene.

The dust and clouds cleared, causing an opening to the sky, which appeared to be dyed red, orange and yellow. The sun was setting to the side opposite of Roxanna. It caused a ghostly glow to shimmer on her body. She looked almost angelic, if it were not for the amount of blood that was on her. She was staring towards Anila and Lionel, a melancholy smile on her lips.

"Anila.. Lionel.." her weak voice barely even a whisper.

In that soft whisper, came the answer that would crush both Anila and Lionel to their very core. It was the simple reminder to what was about to happen. From beside The Mouse, The Bird allowed a sob to escape her aching throat but bit her lip to stop herself from making any more noise.

"Bird.. Mouse.." The hushed tone escaped the lips of the dying hero, “Thank you..” She said, barely even having enough energy to speak. It was then that her legs gave out from underneath her. She fell to her knees, exhaling her last breath of air. It was her birthday. She was 100. Roxanna’s journey had ended. Someone else’s journey was about to begin.