CARLA HEARD PROWLING FOOTSTEPS, almost drowned out by the racing of her heart, and she anxiously glanced at Allison, who shot her what seemed to be an attempt at a comforting smile, before reaching up and grabbing a cue stick from where it was laying on the table.
Allison threw the stick, tripping the lady up, before getting up and holding her fists by her head defensively. The masked woman picked up the broken halves of the cue stick in each hand before charging at Allison, trying to hit her with the splintered pieces of wood.
Allison parried most of the attacks, but she was hit in the side, causing her to stumble back onto a table.
Still crouched behind the table, Carla squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing and not break down. Flashes of memories were echoing in her mind, bouncing around her brain violently.
"We don't want any trouble."
"Neither do we, so be good for us, eh?"
She felt her hands start to heat up, and tried to steady her breathing.
"Sarah, no!" A flash, a wash of hot air, a bang.
Carla let out a small pleading, "No," shaking her head slightly to try and snap herself out of the flashback, "Not now, damn it."
She hated this, all of it, from the fighting to the way her heart wouldn't stop pounding. The last time she had faced proper confrontation was fifteen years ago when her twin had died.
She looked up to see Diego walk in, and tried to tether herself to his voice addressing Allison, "You want to rumour this psycho?"
"I don't need to, because this bitch just pissed me off," Allison spat, before getting up again.
"We just want the boy!" the masked woman cried out, and Carla's eyebrows furrowed.
"In that case," Allison surged forward to kick the woman, not holding back, clearly more driven knowing the woman's motives.
Carla shut her eyes again, as the sound of fighting seemed to drill into her skull, where was Klaus?
Then Allison cried out, and Carla's eyes snapped open to see her fall into a desk, obviously hurt. Diego then stepped forward, taking his turn fighting the masked woman.
"Come on, Carla," she muttered to herself, "Come on."
She knew she had to help, she knew she couldn't just sit there, frozen, on the brink of a mental breakdown, but she was scared. Carla hated the word 'coward', but as she squeezed her eyes shut due to a bang, she hated herself for being just that.
A coward.
Diego picked up a metal pole from the football table, using it to defend himself, but the woman smacked it out of his hand, and Carla watched in a helpless sort of horror.
She saw the woman raise the cue stick, aiming for Diego's head as he was stunned (a hit that could most definitely be fatal), and Carla pushed herself to her feet, throwing herself at the masked figure and slamming her body into the woman's, causing her to stumble back.
"What the hell?" the woman exclaimed, before righting herself and whirling around to face Carla, who was staring at her. "How old are you, kid?"
Carla raised her hands to her mouth, using her teeth to tug her gloves off in one swift motion, leaving them to drop to the floor.
In a second, her hands were glowing bright orange, and if the masked woman was shocked, she didn't show it, instead running forward to attack the girl with the one splintered half of the cue stick she had left.
"Carla!" Allison called, but the teen didn't budge. Instead, her hand went up to catch the cue stick, not flinching, and the wood smoked for a second, before bursting into flames, the masked woman letting go with a cry.
Carla watched as the stick burned away to ashes in a few seconds, before flexing her fingers and diving towards the suited woman, hands outstretched.
The woman blocked three of the punches the teen threw, still getting an elbow to the stomach and a swift kick to the shins aided by Carla's chunky combat boots.
Carla's left hand wrapped around the woman's wrist, and a quiet sizzling was heard, before the teen let go, the woman's cries ringing in her ears.
She saw an angry burn in the shape of her handprint left behind on the woman's flesh. Carla's heart was pounding, and she knew her hands were radiating heat by this point.
"You're crazy!" the masked woman yelped, delivering a swift push to Carla's shoulders before running past and up the stairs.
Allison picked up a knife, throwing it at Diego, who caught it before hurling it around the corner of the wall. Carla heard a sickening thunk, a strangled groan, and the sound of footsteps clumsily ascending the stairs.
Allison went over to Carla, placing a cautious hand on her upper arm, "Are you okay?"
Diego looked on in mild concern, and Carla became hyper-aware of the fact the pair hadn't known what her ability was before this.
Carla aggressively shrugged her off, before picking up her gloves and pulling them on. From upstairs, there was a startling thud, and the three exchanged looks, before dashing up the stairs, to see Luther left on the floor, clearly winded.
Allison and Diego went to help him, while Carla spotted the masked woman by the railings on the floor above. She rushed up the stairs as quietly as possible, to see the chandelier fall to the floor, on top of Luther.
The teen froze, watching as Number One slowly got up, his shirt and jacket ripped, revealing a massive torso, muscles bulging, the skin coarse and thick, covered by dark brown fur.
Carla was in shock, trying to process what was going on in front of her. So it wasn't steroids, she thought, just a crazy monkey body.
Then, the movement of the masked woman made her snap out of her daze, and she climbed the last few steps. The suited lady was standing behind Grace, who was absently sewing, apparently oblivious to what was going on, and Carla felt dread fill her system. What if Grace was destroyed beyond repair?
Hadn't Klaus, Diego and Vanya wanted to keep her power on?
She surged forward, but the masked woman was too quick: she must have known Carla was behind her, because in one swift movement she had used the back of Grace's chair to support herself as she kicked out.
Carla was hit square in the chest, and she fell back, before crashing against the railing, winded. The masked woman was on top of her in a flash, before grabbing the teen's gloved wrists in a vice-like grip.
The teen took notice of the handprint burned into the woman's wrist, angry and sore.
"You little bitch," the woman hissed, before pushing Carla over the balcony.
Carla let out a strangled scream as she fell over the edge. Her eyes were fixed on the masked woman, the pink mask smiling at her mockingly. The world seemed to slow, and she felt panic fill her veins.
She didn't want to die.
Below, she heard someone call her name, but her mind couldn't make out who it was. Slowly, her eyes slipped shut, face screwing up as she plummeted towards the ground. She knew what was coming, she knew there was nothing that could be done.
A barely audible exhale left her mouth, before she hit the ground hard.
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