Patch stared into my eyes from the floor, her hand wrapped tight around the knife that was jammed into my shoulder. I was trying desperately not to panic as she kept me stuck there.

  “Y-you- w-why are you-” I started, still trying to make heads or tails of this, the words coming out in bursts.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Patch asked, giggling as she stuck her tongue out at me playfully, “Obviously it was to get your attention, duh!”

  “B-but why?!” I shouted.

  “Because I want to take you on a date, silly!” She declared, beaming and staring right into my eyes.

  I froze, staring down at her. It felt like she’d started speaking to me in a different language.

  “W-what?” I spluttered out, baffled beyond belief.

  “Yeah!” Patch chirped, “You’re like, the second person I’ve ever met who can keep up with me and didn’t run away! So like, that means we’re destined for each other!”

  Confusion and terror shot through me; every instinct in my body told me to run. I pushed myself off of Patch quickly, screaming as the knife in my shoulder tore against my flesh before being ripped free.

  I had to get away, I had to tell the others. I reached my finger to the side of my helmet and-

  There was a sharp pop sound, before two sharp points stabbed right into my back. I yelped out in pain, before I heard a loud, electric crackling. Immediately, my muscles locked up like a vice, sending me tumbling to the floor, hissing in pain through gritted teeth. I couldn’t budge, my body writhing as electricity shot through me.

  “Ooh, you’re playing hard to get?” Patch cooed, taking a casual step towards me. I could barely see her out of the corner of my eye, holding a bright yellow taser casually in one hand, curling wires extending from it and into my back.

  Before I could even move, she grabbed onto my ankle and dragged me; she was a touch smaller than me and didn’t look like she had any real muscle to her, but she was dragging me like I weighed nothing. Then, with just as little effort, she threw me by my ankle, sending me rolling out of the room and into a much larger walkway; clearly the second floor of this shopping mall, right next to a large hole that dropped down to the first floor.

  My muscles finally relaxed, and I started to pull myself to my feet, shakily.

  “W-what do you mean, ‘a d-date’?” I asked, raising my hands defensively and focusing my power into them, bone erupting into dense gauntlets.

  She stopped, tilting her head quizzically. “D’you not know what a ‘date’ is?”

  “N-no I-” I started, before shaking my head, “W-why with me?”

  “Because you’re like me, stupid!” She giggled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  “I’m n-nothing like you!” I snapped back.

  “Sure you are!” She took a step closer to me. “You can heal, like me. You like to get messy in a fight like me,”

  She got closer, practically face to face with me.

  “Aaaaaand,” she leaned in, practically whispering, “You like girls too, riiiiight?”

  My breath hitched, despite my best efforts. I was trying as hard as I could to process this; it almost sounded like she was in love with me. But that can’t have been right, right?

  She just looked up at me, her face lighting up.

  “I knew it!” She shouted, “You’re perfect!”

  Then, laughing without a care in the world, she pulled out a knife - a different one, how did she have so many? - and swung at me. She was so close that I barely managed to duck to the side, turning around and backing away from her.

  Jessica’s words echoed in my mind:

  “You run as fast as you fucking can in the other direction.”

  “If she gets her teeth in you for a second, you’re fucked.”

  I looked around, trying to find a way out: the hole in the walkway leading down could work, but it was a good twenty foot drop. Behind me, I just barely caught sight of a stairway; it’d have to do.

  Patch was already on me, swinging her knife like a woman possessed, giggling like a happy schoolgirl. I caught and parried the blade as best as I could as it came swinging for me. I was already on the back foot, I needed to put some distance between us.

  I jabbed forward, fist cracking Patch right below the neck. She spluttered for a moment, so I punched again, right in the chest. She paused, but she didn’t flinch, barely even breaking stride as I hit her.

  I focused my power again into my hand, the bone glove extending into a thinner, pointed spike. I jabbed forward again, driving the spike right into Patch’s chest, hard enough that I felt the flesh give way-

  A memory suddenly flashed in my mind: me, burying a spear of bone right into Slaughterhouse’s chest.

  I blinked, the memory fading away as I slowly pulled my arm free of Patch’s chest. I felt unsteady all of a sudden; why had I remembered that now?

  As I snapped back to reality, I looked at Patch; I’d left a large hole that almost went right the way through her, a chunk of her lung visible. I felt bile rise in my stomach as I stared at it, the spongy flesh of the lung regrowing and bubbling like foam.

  “Wow!” Patch gasped, looking down at the hole as it began to knit itself back together, tendrils of flesh whipping out and snapping before pulling the skin tight. “Getting all inside me on the first date? You’re eager!”

  “S-stop!” I shouted back, swinging for her again. This time, she ducked under, knife in hand and aiming up at my neck. I just barely leaned back so that it soared past me before taking another step back-

  She’d moved way faster than I’d thought, slashing across my stomach. The knife tore through the costume’s layers, cutting into my belly. I let out a cry of pain before stepping back again, before looking down. It didn’t feel like a deep cut, thank god, and I could feel it beginning to slowly knit together.

  Patch, however, was transfixed, staring down at my stomach as the wound slowly fixed itself.

  “You really are like me…” she murmured, “Slower, way slower, but still…”

  Then she looked up at me, her expression strangely soft.

  “You really are perfect.”

  Something about her expression - that needy, pitiful expression - made my stomach churn.

  “I-I’m not-” I started.

  “Not what?” Patch asked, her voice soft. “Not perfect? Not like me?”

  “I’m n-not…interested.”

  Silence followed for a few moments. All I could hear was my own heart pounding in my chest. Had I really just told a deranged psychopath that I wasn’t interested?

  Then, Patch laughed.

  “Don’t be silly!” She said, her grin faltering slightly. “You’re totally interested, you’re just nervous!”

  She took a step towards me, wiping the blood - my blood - off of her knife and onto her hand.

  Without thinking, I forced power through my ribs, shooting them out like legs, letting me skitter away.

  “Come on!” Patch shouted, running after me, “Don’t run-”

  She got a few steps closer before she suddenly stopped, looking into the doorway of one of the abandoned storefronts.

  “Ooh, what’s that?” She cooed, then stepped inside.

  I didn’t think twice, moving as fast as I could towards the stairs. Retracting my ribs back inside me, I bolted down it, going down two steps at a time before getting to the floor. I ran, looking around frantically; where was the exit? Every direction just looked like they led to different groups of abandoned storefronts.

  I ran forward to a junction, hearing my footsteps echo around me; one path looked like it led further in, the other path led to a distant, worn-out sign.

  I raised my finger to the side of my helmet; I needed to let Maddie and Elena know.

  “C-Cheshire, this is S-Skullgirl. The jumper, sh-she wasn’t a jumper at all. It was Patch, and-”

  THUD!

  Something hit the floor behind me. My heart leapt, as I slowly turned around.

  There, standing just a few feet away from the escalator, was Patch, having clearly dropped through the hole in that walkway. She had something in her hands; in the right hand, she was holding a crowbar, but I couldn’t make out what was in the left, save for it being long and boxy like some kind of weird rifle.

  Maddie’s voice crackled in my ear. “Skullgirl, respond. You’re certain it was Patch?”

  “D-definitely!” I hissed, keeping my voice low as Patch slowly stepped towards me.

  “People leave all sorts of doodads here!” she said, grinning.

  I readied myself, raising my arms up.

  “So like, I was curious,” Patch said, stopping about ten feet away from me and slinging the crowbar over one shoulder, “Who was the other girlie? Like, I know Madsie, me and her go waaay back. But the other one, the one who kept spitting weird stuff at me. Who’s she?”

  I felt my throat clam up, my eyes widening behind my mask.

  “I mean, I saw her and Maddie with you a minute ago.” Patch continued, “You totally know her, right? She your bestie or something?”

  “Skullgirl! Do not engage, run!” I heard Maddie’s voice crackle in my helmet again, but I barely registered it.

  I didn’t say anything, but I could feel a rising tide of dread build up in my chest.

  “Maybe I should go say hi to her again, too?”

  Something inside me snapped. The dread that was building up suddenly evaporated, a red-hot rage burning to life in its place.

  “D-Don’t you dare!” I roared, bolting towards Patch, bones shooting from my hands into long blades. I swung once wildly as she ducked under it, before swinging again. The second swing struck true, jamming into her side before I ripped it out again.

  Patch didn’t let up, it was like she wasn’t even feeling the pain. Before the wound I’d made in her side had even closed, she swung the crowbar at me, hard.

  I barely reacted in time, weaving to the side-

  CRUNCH!

  She’d swung her hand back, fast, the crowbar smashing into the side of my mask.

  “Sku-, -espo- -OW-” Maddie’s voice echoed, fragmented and broken before it suddenly went dead with a faint electric pop.

  I looked up at Patch, who just giggled.

  “Oops~!”

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  I was on my own, for now. I should’ve run away, everyone had told me to. But Patch, she was between me and everyone else.

  I’d have to fight my way out.

  I charged at her again, swinging with both arms. The two of us fell into a brawl, trading blows back and forth; my arms morphing between blunt gloves of bone and razor-sharp blades, breaking and slicing and hooking into Patch’s body. Blood and bone ripped and spat out of her with every hit, but she didn’t give an inch. Hell, she barely even flinched.

  Any decent hit I’d make, her body popped back into shape or healed before I made the next swing. I’d knock her teeth out with one punch, and before they’d hit the ground she’d grow an entirely new set. A cut into the side would quickly zip shut again.

  She’d swing back hard, one hand cracking the crowbar into my side, the other jabbing me in my exposed stomach. Unlike her, I did flinch, each solid blow knocking me just a little bit further back.

  But that anger at her threatening Elena was keeping me going. I was determined to keep moving, to get out of here alive; to keep Patch away from Elena and Maddie. Maybe if I hit her hard in the right spot, I could stop her long enough to get away.

  I swung again, morphing my right hand into a more solid, blunt shape and swinging down like a hammer, right into Patch’s right shoulder.

  It gave way with a wet crunch, the arm dropping slightly as the crowbar clattered to the ground. Then with my left arm, the blade still jutting from it, I swung up, right into Patch’s neck.

  The blade cut through, jamming itself into the neck just below the base of her skull, hard enough that her head lolled to one side like she’d been hung from a noose. I froze, feeling Patch’s body wobble, going limp.

  I blinked.

  Had I killed her?

  Something cold pressed against my stomach. My eyes flicked down; that long, boxy thing she’d been holding was pointed right at my-

  Click-

  BANG!

  Something blazing hot burst against my stomach, hard enough that it launched me off of my feet and into the air. The air felt like it knocked out of me, causing me to wheeze as I flew, blazing pain wracking through me.

  Then, I slammed into a wall, pain crackling up my back before I fell to the ground with a thud. Immediately, a searing, crackling pain shot through my stomach.

  I barely craned my head down to look; whatever Patch had shot me with had hit the exposed part of my costume, the flesh of my stomach burnt a deep, angry red. I felt it burning and sizzling, a distinct scent like overcooked meat seeping into my nostrils.

  I coughed, blood splattering on the floor. Everything hurt; my stomach felt like it had been cooked, I could feel cracks in my ribs and spine, and even breathing felt like there was a ten-ton weight in my chest. I tried to push myself to my feet, but my legs were too shaky, I couldn’t stand.

  I strained my head, looking up. Whatever Patch had fired lay in pieces on the floor, sparking.

  Is she gone? I thought, hoping for a miracle.

  I saw her laying in a heap a few feet away from the sparking remains of that weapon, limbs bent the wrong way, before she slowly started to pull herself up. I couldn’t help but gasp at what I saw.

  Both legs were bent the wrong way, cracking backwards as she put weight on them. Her torso was jagged and crooked, the spine bent in a wide curve, her neck bent far enough that her head was practically level with her chest. Half of her chest was just straight-up missing, as was her left arm, a large hole where the shoulder had been.

  “Jeez Louise!” she shouted, her voice sounding strained with how badly her body was bent. “That thing’s like, really got a kick to it!”

  She took a shaky, uneven step towards me on her crooked legs, almost toppling over before she took another step, the legs cracking back into shape with a series of wet snaps. Another step, and her spine snapped to the side once, then again, slowly and agonisingly straightening itself back out. Then, the empty space where her shoulder had been started to bubble and churn, flesh and bone rapidly growing and flowering out until, by the time she made her next step, the arm was fully regrown like it was brand-new.

  Maddie had told us how powerful Patch’s regeneration was, and the articles I’d read told a similar story, so I thought I knew what I was in for.

  But this? Actually seeing it happen, seeing her bounce back good as new from injuries that would’ve probably killed a normal person several times over? It made one single thought run crystal-clear through my mind:

  I’m going to die.

  Patch took another step towards me and then stopped, now standing over me, looking down. With a final wet crack, her neck snapped back into place, and she looked as good as new again, like the injuries had never even happened.

  It made me very acutely aware of my own healing; faster than a normal person, but next to this? It felt lethargic. I could feel my ribs knitting back together agonisingly slowly, but breathing still hurt, and I could still feel and smell the burning sensation on my stomach.

  I tried to scramble away, flailing my legs uselessly but I still couldn’t get to my feet, so I just pressed myself against the wall desperately.

  She adjusted, putting one leg on either side of me, before kneeling down on me, her head level with mine. Then, she slowly put her hands either side of my helmet, before pulling.

  I was starting to panic, my breathing rapid and shallow. I tried to focus my power, but I couldn’t, like it was panicking with me.

  What was she doing? Was she trying to see who I was?

  With a hiss, the helmet came off, surprisingly gently. I could feel my hair spill out from under it as Patch casually dropped it to the side with a clatter.

  She held my gaze for a moment, bright blue eyes staring into mine, before she brushed some of my hair out of my face. I felt my heart hammering against my chest like it was trying to burst out of me, frightened tears racing down my face.

  “Wow…” Patch murmured, her voice incredibly soft, her grin falling away into a much gentler smile, “You’re even more beautiful than I thought, baby.”

  Then, she started to lean in towards me, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, like-

  Like she was trying to kiss me.

  Every single coherent thought in my head vanished, replaced by one single instinct:

  RUNRUNRUNRUNRUN! FUCKING RUN!

  My ribs erupted out of my chest like rockets, slamming into Patch hard enough to catapult her off of me. I quickly turned over, despite the pain shooting through my stomach. My ribs turned with me, holding me upright like crutches before skittering forwards, getting me away from Patch.

  This was a nightmare. I had to get away from her, I had to hide. My eyes darted frantically as my ribs carried me, trying to find somewhere, anywhere that could keep me away from her.

  I saw an old, small abandoned storefront as I rounded the corner. Without even thinking, I barreled into it, stumbling over splintered wood and broken glass before I scrambled into a corner far away from the entrance. I curled in on myself, panting and sweating as my ribs slowly slithered back inside me.

  I’m going to die. That was the only thought that went through my mind, over and over again. I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die.

  Maddie and Elena wouldn’t make it in time, I couldn’t contact them. Even if I could, could they take on Patch alone?

  What else can I do? I thought, trying to think of a way out. My body felt unsteady, that burning pain in my stomach still pulsing through me; I wasn’t sure if I could stand back up even if I wanted to.

  I could sit here, waiting for my healing to do its work, then try and run.

  But what if she finds me?

  What if I can’t heal enough?

  I remembered when I fought Slaughterhouse, how she’d broken half of my body before my healing suddenly surged like a tidal wave; why wasn’t that happening now?

  Get back up and fight her. I thought, the idea brushing over my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  I couldn’t. Fighting her was like trying to fight a speeding train with my bare hands, she just wouldn’t stop-

  “Where’d you go, baby~?” I heard Patch sing out, making my heart jump in my chest. She was getting closer. I slammed my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet my breathing.

  Was I really going to die here?

  Not if we kill her.

  Every thought in my head came screeching to a halt.

  ‘We’?

  That voice, that thought in my head.

  It wasn’t my voice. It didn't sound anything like me.

  Where’s your rage gone? It growled. Low, rough, and so familiar. I knew I’d heard the voice before but I just couldn’t place where.

  “W-what?” I started, trying desperately to make any sense of this. “W-who-”

  Don’t tell me you’ve wasted it all already. It- no, she - interrupted, lower and louder in my head.

  I froze. The air suddenly felt like ice.

  That voice, that low growl.

  I’d heard it when she’d driven me into the ground like a nail, shattered my bones, broken me like a discarded toy.

  I’d heard it when-

  When you’d killed me.

  My pulse roared in my ears. My stomach twisted, as I felt bile rise in my throat.

  “N-no,” I breathed, “Nononono-!”

  Say my name, Skye.

  “Y-you’re not r-real!” I whispered desperately, “Y-you’re d-dead, h-how are you-?!”

  Say. My. Name. The voice - her voice - ordered, every word hitting me like a hammer to the head.

  I felt my blood turn to ice, any defiance I had evaporating. All I could do was squeak out a single word.

  “S-Slaughterhouse?” My voice broke, terrified.

  Good girl. She purred, making my skin crawl.

  My breathing was frantic, shallow, my hands trembling against the floor.

  Was I losing my mind?

  “W-why…how are you in m-my head?”

  Be quiet and listen to me. Her voice slid over my brain like warm honey. She threatened your girlfriend, didn’t she? So just kill her.

  “I-I’ve been trying!” I snapped, trying to keep my voice quiet. “I-It doesn’t matter w-what I do, she j-just keeps coming-!”

  A low, growling shush grazed across my mind, like a rusty blade over my brain.

  Because you’re not pulling your weight. She growled. You want her gone?

  My breathing stuttered. Every instinct screamed out at me to say no, to fight it.

  But then I thought of Elena. Of what would happen to her if Patch found her.

  Despite everything, I nodded.

  Good. Her voice sounded delighted, almost like I could hear her smiling. I’ll make sure she stays gone.

  Suddenly, I felt wrong. A heavy numbness leaking out of my spine and across my limbs, seeping through my skin. My fingers twitched, jerking suddenly.

  “W-what…are you…” I gasped, my jaw suddenly feeling heavy. “W-what’s happening to me?”

  I tried to lift a hand to my face, but my arm didn’t move. It wasn’t listening to me. It just stayed there, pinned to my side.

  Panic spiked in my chest.

  “P-please!” I begged, crying, my voice dying in my mouth.

  Don’t worry. Slaughterhouse said, her voice calm.

  I suddenly felt light and weightless, like my mind was disconnected from the rest of me. It felt like she was sliding under my skin, like I was a suit that she was trying on.

  I’ll take it from here.

  My legs moved on their own. I didn’t want to stand, but she did, my joints slowly creaking as I moved. I felt my body being hoisted up, like I was a puppet on invisible strings. My back straightened, shoulder rolling.

  I tried to scream, desperately, but I couldn’t even draw the breath to make a sound. My lungs were rising and falling slowly and rhythmically as I breathed, but they weren’t my breaths anymore.

  I was stuck, kept captive in my own head as my body slowly moved.

  As I felt my vision tunnel and darken, my hearing muffling, my head tilted to the side as I stood. Then, from the depths of my throat I heard it: a low, rumbling, gleeful laugh pouring out of me.

  Not my laugh.

  Hers.

  “Where’d you go, baby~?” Patch asked, her voice loud and melodic as she stalked the hall. Where had she gone?

  She’s so pretty! Patch thought to herself, letting herself smile as she softly swung the bloodstained crowbar in her left hand, picturing Bone-girl’s face in her mind.

  That long, curly hair. That adorable, shy face. Those beautiful green eyes.

  And she can keep up with me, too!

  It had been so long since she’d met anyone who could keep up with her. Not since her time at the Young Defenders, not since-

  She heard something from one of the storefronts. Footsteps?

  Was she there?

  Patch grinned as she tip-toed inside, feet crunching against the broken glass and splintered wood, as she flicked the light switch with a click.

  At first, none of the ceiling lights turned on. Pouting, she flicked the switch again: nothing. Then again. This time, there was a loud pop as one of the bulbs flashed bright for a second before dying. Then another, then another.

  Then, finally, one of the lights lit up, bathing the corner of the room in a dull yellow glow. There, Patch could see her: Bone-girl, standing completely still, a black silhouette under the light, the only colour Patch could make out being the white sections on her costume’s chest and limbs. But something was off: her arms were limp at her side, her head tilted down.

  “Is that you, baby?” Patch shouted with a grin, taking a step forward, giggling as she walked.

  No response.

  “Hey!” Patch shouted, stopping, “I asked you a question, y’know! It’s like, totally rude to not answer!”

  Bone-girl’s head twitched sharply and quickly, turning to look at Patch. It hung at an odd angle, almost like her neck was crooked.

  “You ok, baby?” Patch asked. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see more of her than just that black silhouette. But she swore she could see something, like twin points of red-

  Bone-girl suddenly rocketed forwards in a full-on sprint, bolting towards Patch like a demon out of hell. The skin on her hands shredded as long blades of bone erupted from her wrists, swinging right for Patch.

  “See?” Patch giggled happily, “Told you you were interested!”

  She didn’t even try to dodge, opening her arms wide. The blades jammed into her sides hard, running her through, the force of the impact lifting her off of the ground and up into the air.

  Patch let out a soft, joyful giggle as she dangled from Bone-girl’s blades, eyes locked onto her face. God, she was so beautiful.

  The pair of them stared into each other’s eyes, Patch’s bright blue and Bone-girl’s-

  Wait…

  Patch’s head tilted, quizzical as she noticed something.

  She could have sworn Bone-girl’s eyes were green a second ago. But now, the eyes that stared back at her were different: a deep, violent, blood red.

  Now that she looked again, it was almost like she was a different person; gone was that panicked and frantic expression, gone were the terrified tears streaming down her face. She was grinning up at Patch, teeth gritted and eyes wide, a low rumbling laugh echoing from her chest.

  Patch’s grin widened; she didn’t know what was going on, but she didn’t care. This is exactly what she’d wanted.

  “That’s more like it!” Patch spluttered, a spray of blood flying from her mouth and splattering over Bone-girl’s face. “Knew you had it in you, baby~!”