It's been in all the papers for a month and a half now. A charity event in the middle of Central Park. Put on by One World Charities. Most people, those of the cynical nature, would tell you it's just a ploy to make those of higher standing in society feel good about themselves. Like attending a single a year for charity makes them good people. But then on the other 364 days of the year the homeless and down on their luck are invisible to them. Out of sight, out of mind. But those in need see it as opportunity to perhaps get a little ahead. Or at least get a warm meal and an extra blanket…
The Night Before The Superhero Heart Run
In The General Area of East 74th Street, New York
"Yeah but ya didn' see the bodies… it was unholy… like somethin outta Freddy Krueger…"
"They was dealers and pimps… who cares."
"One of the pimps… his head was smashed in AND his hands was cut off…"
"Hey man… take it easy… not 'round the kid…"
The two men huddled around the trash barrel talk quietly amongst themselves in that dark alley. They are dressed as nothing more than vagabonds, their clothes dirty and torn. The two men names are Joseph Wedge and Andrew Biggs… they've been homeless for more than 6 years, and have come to rely upon one another on these streets. But they aren't alone in that alley. All told there's about 9 other people… the youngest 15(ish) and the oldest (Biggs) 59. And the 15(ish) year old is the one Joseph was alluding to. She sits against the cold brick wall, huddled under a blanket. She's relatively new to this particular alley, having only appeared about a month ago. Those inhabiting the alley, at first, tried to force her away. But they were unsuccessful, she seems to be able to take care of herself.
Joseph and Andrew look in the direction of the girl as her presence is mentioned, and then they go back to their shared bottle and talking amongst themselves. The girl's eyes are hidden under the blanket, the one she holds around her slim form. But she is watching the two men, listening to them intently. While Joseph might be intent on sparing the girl's ears from the gory details of the bodies found this passed night… he would never guess that she is the one that killed those 6 men. Eviscerated them, beheaded them, took off their limbs, broke their bones.
"That festival thing t'morrow, in the park… we gonna be able to get there?"
"I don't know, man. Last time I went ta somthin like that… I got beat up real bad by some kids that followed me… those things ain't safe…"
"For people like us? Biggs it's sposed to be FOR people like us…"
"Yeah I know, believe me. But people are dicks, man. Even when they mean well."
From the talk of the last few weeks, it's obvious those of this alley won't be going to charity event. Even though in all reality, what happened to Biggs has soured them on… well society as a whole. Like a rabbit that knows once it peeks it's head out of its hidey hole, it's going to get that head smashed by the farmer's shovel.
"Hey, Brook. You stay away from that place, too. Ya hear me? Take 'ol Biggs' advice… nothin but trouble when we try to show ourselves to the 'good' people of the city."
Joseph laughs lightly at that. "Amen, brother. Listen to 'em, Brook. He knows what he speaks of." The comments are directed towards the girl sitting near them, her jade green eyes watching them intently from under her blanket. Brook isn't her real name, of course. But when she first arrived… Andrew noticed she had what sounded like a Brooklyn accent… so they called her Brook. And she hasn't corrected them. In fact, she hasn't said a lot about herself… And she also knows there's really no such thing as a 'Bronx' accent… but she had to have an accent like a New Yorker, to make it seem like she has lived here her whole life…
Day Of The Superhero Heart Run
11AM
The girl had to make a few stops before she arrived 'Sheep Meadow' in Central Park. A place usually occupied by sunbathers (on appropriate days of course), but today it serves a very different function. It's rather crowded now, with people mingling and laughing… the smell of food filling the air. And she now mingles amongst the crowd, a wide smile on her lips. As if she actually belonged there.
Just by looking, you wouldn't be able to tell she was homeless at all. She has cleaned up, and wears a pair of blue shorts and a pink top with a rainbow unicorn on it. Her long and dark hair is tied into two braided pig tails, and she wears a pair of flip flops (the strap on one of them broken and held together with duct tape).
She walks slowly amongst the various food vendors and carnival games, watching for any 'heroes' that might suddenly emerge. She is confident no one would recognize who she really is… since literally only a handful of people knows who she really is. Her hands are folded behind her back as she walks, almost seeming to be walking in stride to a happy song in her head. But the only thing in her head right now is tactical plans for killing every single person she passes. And what the most efficient manner of doing so would be.
She stops at a barbeque stand, watching as others get a plate of food and moving on. She has to admit the food does look good. One of the burly men cooking notices her, and motions to her. "Hey, hey c'mere kid." She looks around to see who he's talking to, and she then steps up slowly, shyly, her head bowing down a little. "I've seen you pass here like 5 times now, kid. Where's your parents?" She looks up to the man, her tone having an obvious New York accent.
"Pappa's at work, momma's still sick. I heard music an came ta lookit…" she says with a shrug of her shoulders, sounding very guilty. The man sighs, and he leans on the counter he stands behind. "Ma's sick, huh? That why ya came here by yaself?" She just nods a little, looking away from him. The man sighs again, and he pushes a plate of food towards her. "Here kid, on the house. B'fore ya leave, come back 'round and I'll make a plate for your ma an pa, okay?" She smiles suddenly, hands snapping out to take the plate.
"Thank you so much, sir!"
Well that was easy.
She now walks amongst the crowds, munching on what she thinks is a pulled pork sandwich and spicy French fries. This is actually the first time she's had either. And as she walks, her green eyes are constantly scanning the crowd around her, she is constantly taking in the scents around her. Despite the smell of food in the air, it's easy for her to make out scents here.
During her time in captivity (or childhood as some would term it), she was trained to be an expert with infiltration… with blending in seamlessly in whatever environment she finds herself in. She's in New York… so she has chameleoned herself to be a New Yorker. She has a street address in mind where she would say she lives… her parents names in case anyone asks… what school she goes too… even what her favorite kind of music is. All to simply blend in.
The better you blend in, the easier it is to murder everyone in the area you're blending into.
