Twisted and Accursed, Chapter 25

Taylor entered the refugee camp, the glow from the flying figure overhead casting long shadows across the streets. The woman in the sky, illuminated like a human-shaped light bulb, brought an eerie sense of calm to the night. Light poured from her in waves, a beacon in the darkness, illuminating every corner of the camp. Despite her brightness, the woman - likely Purity - wasn't attacking anyone. She simply hovered above, her posture suggesting that she was patrolling the area.

Taylor’s gaze lingered on Purity. She had heard of the cape before - stories about her power, how she could unleash blinding light and explosive beams with devastating precision. Purity, according to those stories, might have been more dangerous than anyone else in the Empire 88, even Kaiser. Taylor had never seen her fight, but she didn't need to. The stories alone were enough to make her wary. If she had to guess, Purity had come out of retirement, possibly rejoining the Empire in the wake of the city's collapse and chaos. It made sense. When the city burned, everything people knew had been reduced to ashes, forcing many to return to old alliances.

Taylor turned her attention back to the task at hand. The camp, though not as large as some of the official ones, sprawled over several city blocks. Finding her dad in this mess was a long shot, especially considering he’d never had any ties to the Empire or any of the other gangs. He wasn’t one to mix with villains, but Brockton Bay had become a nightmare, and nothing was certain anymore. If she had to find him, she had to look in places she never would have expected.

She approached the camp’s entrance cautiously, her face and hair obscured. A skinhead stopped her, eyeing her suspiciously. Around him, a group of armed guards tensed, raising their weapons.

“Show me your face,” the skinhead demanded, his voice gruff, cold.

Taylor nodded and pulled down the coverings from her head just enough to reveal her pale skin and sharp features. She kept her expression neutral, meeting his gaze without challenge. The man looked her over and nodded in approval.

"You're clear," he said, and the guards lowered their weapons, though they kept watching her closely.

“Should still be a few tents left for you to choose from, girlie,” the skinhead told her, his tone almost casual. “Don’t make any trouble, and you won’t find any. Got it?”

“Got it,” Taylor replied, her voice steady.

As she passed through the checkpoint, she couldn’t help but think of what might have happened if her face had been different - if she had been anything other than white. She doubted she would have even made it this far. The fact that they’d waited for her to reveal her face at all felt like a miracle in itself.

Once inside, Taylor began her search. The camp was surprisingly well-organized for something under the Empire’s control. The tents stood in neat rows, with enough space between them for people to walk comfortably. Makeshift lamps dotted the area, but most of the light came from Purity, still hovering above, her glow bathing everything in a soft radiance. The people here didn’t seem particularly interested in her as she moved through the camp. Most of them were gathered in small groups, either cooking together over communal cauldrons or singing songs around someone strumming an instrument.

The scene reminded her of a post-apocalyptic film, where survivors band together, holding onto whatever humanity they can in the wake of disaster. It was unsettling to realize how close that was to her own reality now. Yet, unlike the larger camps she had passed through before, this one lacked any formal system of organization. There were no officials or records, no one to track arrivals and departures. That suited her just fine. No one asked for her name or questioned her purpose here, making it easier to move around unnoticed.

Taylor wandered deeper into the camp, her eyes scanning the faces around her. None of them were familiar. Each tent she passed felt like another dead end, but she kept moving, knowing she couldn’t afford to give up. Finding her father here was a long shot, but she had to try.

She spent the next hour moving about, looking for her father. She’d talk to strangers, describe him for them, but none of them had seen anyone like her father. No one saw him. No one knew anything about him. A gaggle of children pass by her, laughing. One of them jumped high and began leaping over a stack of crates. The child slipped and fell and flailed his arms every which way. The child’s hand clasped around the cloth Taylor had wrapped over her head and, as he went down, ripped it right from her head. Her long, wavy black hair fell like a dark cape, fluttering in the wind.

Someone gasped.

Another screamed.

But everyone noticed her immediately. How could they not? Her face was probably on America’s most wanted list – at the very top of it. After all, not even the Nine could claim to have destabilized at entire city. She could. Well, Sukuna could, but it happened because of her. Well, Lung technically did most of the damage, to be entirely fair.

A small crowd gathered around her. Taylor’s eyes narrowed. Purity hadn’t noticed just yet, but it was only a matter of time and the flying humanoid light bulb likely wasn’t the only Empire Cape here.

“It’s Taylor Hebert!”

“It’s her!”

“Destroyer!”

“It’s the Destroyer!”

She turned her gaze towards those who screamed at her, her Cursed Energies flaring out like an aura of blue fire. Not a single one of them saw the energy. But they felt it all the same. Her gaze silenced the crowd, freezing them where they stood, filling their minds with the most primal fear. Many of the children soiled themselves, alongside a few of the adults. What almost immediately caught her attention, however, was the tangibility of the concept of fear. She could almost reach out and touch it, even mold it to her will, though she didn’t know how.

“There’s only one way to make use of that fear, brat.” Her mentor’s voice echoed in her head, which was nice, compared to growing a mouth from her body. It was strange to think of that monster as a mentor. Still, she listened. And, for a moment, Taylor caught a flash of something like a memory. Not hers, but Sukuna’s – a memory of “And, as you are now, you won’t like how it’s going to be.”

Taylor gritted her teeth. She had to move. The crowd was going to be a problem.

Taylor was just about to call on one of her Ghosts, when someone landed right behind her. It wasn’t Purity, but someone else. A man. “So, you’re the one who’s responsible for all this.”

She turned and saw a man there, wearing only a pair of jeans and a metal mask in the shape of a wolf’s head. He was tall and muscular, and blonde. Taylor’s eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if she could deal with both Hookwolf and Purity at the same time if it came down to it. Just one of them was doable. Hookwolf huffed and chuckled. “Impressive. To think Lung fell to a naked teenager. He’s been sent to the Birdcage; thanks to you.”

The sudden burst of light at her back told her that Purity was floating just a few dozen feet from her. Taylor’s eyes narrowed. And Cursed Energy surged through her form, powering her limbs. She wasn’t about to win against Hookwolf in a boxing match, however. Alice suddenly appeared behind the Cape, her blade-like fingers poised to cut the man apart into ribbons in but a moment, her ghostly black hair fluttering like tendrils in the wind. Liam, monstrous and powerful, appeared right under Purity, ready to pull and pound her into the ground. “What do you want?”

She didn’t summon a third Ghost just yet. She couldn’t use Mister Randall’s ability anyway – not until tomorrow. And that meant she’d need to summon an entirely new Ghost for this task. It was a hand she wasn’t going to play just yet – not until it became necessary. As they were, her Ghosts were already stronger and deadlier than any Cape she’d ever heard of.

They were only waiting for her signal now.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Hookwolf said. “But Kaiser would like to speak with you. We’ve been given orders to tell you that. And if you comply, I’ll take you to see the man above the Empire. If you don’t comply, then I get to have fun. I think we both know what he’s going to ask you. So, what will it be, Taylor Hebert?”

Taylor’s eyes narrowed as she prepared to respond, but before she could speak, Purity’s voice cut through the tension. "Don’t try anything stupid, kid. We know how your power works. What you did to Lung won’t work on us."

There was an odd confidence in Purity’s tone, but instead of feeling threatened, Taylor found herself almost amused. The way Purity spoke, it was clear she had no idea what Taylor was truly capable of. No one on Earth Bet, not a single person, could fathom the existence of Sukuna. They probably thought Taylor was just some super-powered Brute with a strong Blaster rating, nothing more. And that meant they were grossly underestimating her. Still, it wouldn’t have mattered if they had known the truth. Her power was beyond anything they could prepare for.

Taylor tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, bitter smile. “This is going to sound hypocritical, given what I’ve done to half the city, but I’d rather not dig my grave any deeper by associating with nazis.”

Without hesitation, she snapped her fingers. In that instant, her Ghosts sprang into action, faster than either of the Empire capes could react. Liam moved first, his hand touching Purity. His ability to isolate an object from the effects of gravity activated, transferring that effect to the Empire cape.

Taylor turned slightly to check on Purity, expecting to see her floating, helpless and vulnerable. But what she saw instead made her blood freeze. Purity wasn’t floating. She wasn’t even standing. She had been violently splattered across the ground, her limbs twisted and shattered, her organs and flesh reduced to a grotesque mess. Blood sprayed outward in a sickening fountain, painting the ground with chunks of flesh and splattered crimson.

Taylor’s heart hammered in her chest as she turned to Hookwolf, hoping to at least control that situation. But before she could process anything, Alice had already acted. Her claws had torn through Hookwolf's body with horrifying precision, slicing him apart in mere moments. His metallic form was shredded, revealing steaming, glistening insides, blood pouring out in torrents. His flesh, now ribbons of red, gushed onto the ground.

It was over. Just like that, in the blink of an eye.

Taylor stood there, rooted in place, her mind racing to catch up with the carnage around her. Her eyes were wide, her hands trembling uncontrollably. This... this was not what she had intended. She had wanted to incapacitate them, not turn the scene into a bloodbath. Not like this.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence, as though the world itself had frozen in shock. And then the screams began. A ripple of panic tore through the crowd, quickly growing into a deafening wave of chaos. Men and women screamed in terror, scrambling to escape, trampling over one another in their desperation. Some even pushed their own children out of the way, humanity dissolving into raw, animalistic fear. The ground shook as the masses surged toward any possible exit, driven by a singular instinct: survive.

Taylor watched, her heart sinking as the world around her descended into madness. Her Ghosts had acted on her command, but the aftermath was something far beyond what she had anticipated. And now, all she could do was stand in the midst of the carnage, helpless to stop it.