Boom!
Over New York, a sonic boom ripped the sky as Hawk streaked through the clouds at fifty Mach, heading straight for a small town near Augusta, Maine.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York operations center, the night shift was quiet, agents lazily chatting until alarms blared and red boxes flashed across the monitors.
"Warning! Unknown energy fluctuation detected above New York!"
Data streamed in, satellites triangulating the source.
"It's… Hawk."
Collective sighs of relief. For most, that meant no disaster—probably just another sparring match with Thor.
Except one agent frowned. "Wait. Didn't he just fight Thor yesterday?"
The room went still. Then the feed cut—Hawk had vanished from sensors near Augusta. Orders went out immediately: contact the commander.
…
In the tiny town of Rainfield, population barely two thousand, the streets were deserted. Only one car roared down the road, a fire-red muscle car, carrying two passengers—an older thug at the wheel and a nervous high school girl in the passenger seat.
But behind them, another figure appeared.
A girl in a white dress, now drenched in pig's blood. Once golden-haired, now crimson-streaked. Barefoot, shaking, her eyes blazing with silent fury.
The high school queen bee and her thug boyfriend had gone too far.
Carrie.
Her rage tore through the ground, splitting asphalt open as the car skidded to a halt inches from collapse. The thug cursed, whipped the wheel, and aimed the car back at her.
"Run her down!" the queen bee shrieked.
But when the car charged, Carrie raised her hand. Invisible power slammed the vehicle still, metal groaning, windshield cracking. The driver's skull hit the wheel, blood spraying. The queen bee's head smashed against the glass, half outside, twisted grotesquely like a wilted flower.
Carrie lifted the car into the air with a flick of her mind, smiling grimly. She would burn them, blow them apart—just as they had humiliated her.
And then a calm voice cut through the storm.
"Feel better now?"
She spun, hurling raw magic at the intruder. Hawk's white T-shirt rippled but held firm, the blast rolling over him harmlessly. Her eyes widened—whether in shock at his resistance or at the absurdity of his fuzzy house slippers, she couldn't tell.
He stepped closer, ignoring the stench of dried blood. With a flick of his hand, the dying queen bee slumped lifeless.
"Revenge is one thing," Hawk said evenly, "but torture? That's unnecessary."
Carrie's throat worked. "…Carrie."
"A good name," Hawk murmured, filing it away.
Headlights flared—three black SUVs screeched to a halt. Men in black suits and sunglasses poured out, even in the dead of night. Carrie's breath hitched; fear rushed in now that her anger was spent.
"Don't worry," Hawk reassured gently. "You're safe with me."
For a moment, he saw his sister Anya's face in Carrie's.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. team approached cautiously, but Hawk cut them off. "S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
One stammered, "…Yes, Hawk sir—"
"Tell Sharon to come by my house tomorrow."
And with that, he wrapped an arm around Carrie—ignoring the crusted blood—and launched into the sky in a sonic crack.
The agents stood in silence, then their leader exhaled. "Report this. Then check Rainfield High."
…
Palm Street, New York.
In the Stacy household, Gwen sat across from the Hell Witch, whose blue flames flickered faintly as she explained fragments of the past.
Then Hawk appeared in the back garden, Carrie beside him, clothes and skin still stained red.
"Holy—!" Gwen gasped.
Hawk gave a weary smile. "Long story. This is Carrie. Gwen, could you help her get cleaned up? Find her something to wear. We'll talk after."
"Alright," Gwen nodded, already moving.
"I should change too," Hawk muttered.
The Hell Witch's flames crackled quietly. Something dark had been set in motion.
…
(End of Chapter)
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