#FridayFlash - 2:34am

She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She'd counted the cracks in the plaster too many times to remember, and the next step would be to name them.




She rolled over and looked at the clock. The glowing green digits spelled out '2.34'. She growled, and hauled herself out of bed. I'm awake, so I might as well go to the bathroom. Again.




She opened the bedroom door and padded across the living room. She kept the lights off to preserve her night vision - she didn't want to go stumbling into the coffee table on her way back to bed.




The bathroom lay on the other side of the living room. A full moon shone through the window, casting a pale glow into the bathroom. The toiletries lined up on the sill threw irregular shadows across the wall.




She sat down and watched the reflection of the night sky. A gentle breeze stirred the tree outside, the ruffled shadow leaves on the wall dancing to the wind's tune. She sighed - the night used to be hers. She longed to escape to the rooftops, caught between the city and the sky, watched only by the stars.




She stood up and flushed. Movement in the corner of the room caught her eye. Something rippled across the sky, its shadow swimming across the bathroom wall. She turned and peered through the frosted glass of the window. That was no full moon - that was the Signal.




She narrowed her eyes and stomped out of the bathroom. She walked straight past her bedroom and headed to the closet. She ran her hands across the engineered latex that made up her catsuit, and lifted the wafer thin metal mask out of its box. She stared into its empty eyes, and her own animosity stared back.




If the City had its hero back...then it certainly needed its villain.