She wakes up in a ditch rain drops hitting her dirty face, a storms coming. Head aching she slowly picks herself up out of the dirt. She’s naked “fuck” sighing she begins ambling toward civilization. She doesn’t remember a thing, not a name, not an age, nor location-where the fuck are her clothes? But at least she sees houses. She’s in the suburbs of the Green District though she doesn’t know it yet.
The rain begins to fall harder and faster drenching our girl completely. She just keeps walking forward barely a shiver, there’s no time for cold, she’s hungry.
Coming to the first yard she finds herself in the back with a serendipitous clothesline and no one in sight trying to save it. They may be wet, but at least they’ll cover. Grabbing a black shirt, and ill fitting jeans she scampers to the next yard having eyed a pair of work boots left out all alone. Slipping into the wet boots she sloshes her way to the front still no real idea of what to do. Nothing looks familiar though quiet and homely. The sound of rain hitting ground fills her ears as she passes house after house, stomach roaring.
She’s watching her feet appear and disappear listening to the storm while everything else is gone. Mumbling as she goes “left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot…”
“Katherine!” a man calls out from a car she keeps moving mindlessly unaware of the sound.
A woman burst from the passenger seat nearly slipping on her dainty heeled feet “excuse me! Katherine!?” rushing to our nameless girls side she startles her. Jumping back she screams eyes wide the woman puts hands up “oh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry we scared you Katherine” she’s  ridiculously tall almost like she’s been stretched out, incredibly thin, moving like olive oil in the rain “we didn’t mean to be late picking you up! The whole situation with your bags had us all confused!” She’s laughing and smiling while she speaks.
Our girl smiles and laughs too thinking maybe Katherine likes food?
The woman leads her to the car where the man is waiting dry and cozy “hey there, Kathy, do’ya mind if I call ya Kathy?” he’s wearing thick square framed glasses and smiling bright.
“Yeah, that’s fine” it’s not lying, right? They drive off down the road with the Mrs asking all sorts of one word answer questions our girl just nods. Though she finds out Katherine was suppose to be at a bus stop thirty minutes further down the road, apparently they thought their girl walked all that way. They drive and drive while olive oil chit chats mostly to herself though her husband laughs saying “you’re so right dear, Kathy you listen to that.” She’d nod, but all she’s really hearing is her stomach at this point.
They arrive at a quaint farm with a picturesque little house front and center. Where Kathy is assured they run and own, not maintain or work this “little slice of heaven” as the Mr calls it. She’s ushered to the front porch where under its awning she’s able to dry off enough to sit and eat dinner.
Which she destroys.The food a bit cold from sitting out waiting for their arrival, but nonetheless fork in one hand, spoon in the other she plows through plate after plate. Meatloaf, potato’s and gravy, peas and cornbread-so much food. The couple watch as their newly obta-adopted daughter shovels the well prepared meal graciously into her face.
“I hope you enjoy it Katherine! And when your done I’ll bring in the dessert” she’s smiling ear to ear and so is ‘Kathy’-dessert! Her eyes water from happiness-so good!
“Welcome home Kathy” the new father says proudly ” Katherine Kelley” so that’s their name Mr and Mrs Kelley-our girls wondering what happened to Katherine.


FREAKS, and the long lost yellow brick road.

“What are we even doing here?” tonight we find ourselves with two fine FREAKS traveling beneath the streets.
“I told you, you don’t have to be here.” green lips hiss she’d rather this powergirl be home in bed.
Graphic pouts, super-powered tits drooping with the rest of her “you said that like an hour into the walk!” tunnel screams echo-
“Shut up!” gripping latex the green glow of our heroine turns the area nuclear. “Keep. Your. Voice. Down.” deep breaths Wicked, deep breaths.
A finger on her lips Graphic awes at the cracking air, nodding rapidly. The green dream releases the costumed airhead-she was right. Wicked creatures rarely admit fear.
The pair trudge on once the lit tail dimmed to a less disturbing glow. Still looking a sight in their… unique clothing. One a near perfect recreation of a long forgotten drawing, the other a figment of Toulouse-Lautrec. The latter lady is of consistent reference. The former an apparent seamstress. Both about to meet The Force.
Creative, right?
The females quietly bicker “I don’t know why you are so-” the roof falls in front of them.
On the floor the FREAKS don’t know what they are in for as they look onto two medium sized Tech suits and rainbow six looking fuckers. “Graphic?”
“Yes, Wicked?”
Without another word our comic princess bolts her leg muscles pulsing as the air beings to crack.

Deep breaths, Wicked, deep breath- DON’T. RIP. APART. Memories fuel a long needed release of atomic tension all our FREAK needs to do is keep her body together. Simple.


Graphic is thrown from the perimeter of the scene smiling like a goon she flies on the edge of the explosion-two hour journey in under a minute.

The Force, even dead, now knows our dirty little secret.


FREAK chase

We find ourselves watching a good ol’fashion FREAK chase. This little kitty better get a move on or she’ll be fish bait!

Huffing and puffing we’re introduced to young Katherine as she flees the bloodthirsty norms hot on her tail. From behind she hears the hate “FREAK! KILL THE FREAK!” she knew she’d done wrong, but lynch-wrong? This shit is ridiculous.
Knocking over everything in her path she heads down the subway entrance steps-praying to whatever would listen it’d be open. Met with a rusty iron rod gate she gulps pushing it forward, is it? It is.
Risking only seconds to crush the bars into place hopefully to lock out the fire-where the fuck do city folk get torches? Katherine keeps moving. The funs not over yet.
Following the abandon rail she finds herself closing in on the ruins where it could mean escape or it could mean death. She’s heard the stories.
But caution is a luxury one she cannot afford “there she is!”
“Get her!”
“FREAK!” the mobs found her. The bars are rusty and she may have broken them a bit…
“Fuck” she sighs willing her way forward she may be strong, among other things, but this chase started long before we got here. From the subway she finds a drop where the track falls into the sewers. Through the fecal decorated cavity she plunges deeper, maybe norms won’t want hepatitis? Internally she’s screaming but an open mouth is vulnerable so she holds it in.
The flames are getting closer, the footsteps joined by others, apparently they haven’t heard the stories. In a river of you don’t want to know she pushes through noticing nothing but what’s before her, keep moving, keep moving-how are they still getting closer!? Was what she’d done all that bad? Yes, but come on she’s about to fall down a waterfall of shit.
At that moment she looks down-she shouldn’t have-and realizes she’s ran directly off the ledge “ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” submerging she’s reminded of why an open mouth is vulnerable. The mob unencumbered by the need to live have used the narrow walk way lining one side of the wall almost en masse-those who didn’t were wise enough to get on it to use the ladder down at least. 
Our unlikely heroine finds her way to the surface frantically swimming towards the edge luckily she’s smart enough to go the opposite of the ladder lifting out of the river to continue her run. The open area of the waterfall quickly became a dark tunnel she pushed through feeling eyes. Light from behind-they found her!
“Fuck” she pants using her arms and the walls to throw herself forward as light hits her eyes. Neon lights.
Suddenly she falls down, down, down through the roof of one of the old city shops. As she falls she sees a portion of the mob and their torches flickering. Right before hitting the roof they become obscured by neon colored gas.
Then she crashes. Hitting shelves and book stacks upon entrance the items fall on her and for a moment it looks like she’s dead. The mob believes it, so they exit. Which leads to the neon lights losing some of their intensity through the hole in the roof.
Moments pass before she rises knocking everything away frantically. Vomiting the contents of her stomach while violently trying to remove her excrement ridden clothing-we’ll give her a minute.

About an hour later with our heroine having disrobed and collected herself we find her gazing upon the walls. It’s hard to see but the chemicals in the air provide a dim light she moves slowly a smile breaking ear to ear. Superheroes paint the walls characters of the past perfectly reserved in The Vault a ruin of old, the former city’s last comic book shop. A naked Katherine finds a stack and sits-escape after all.


You know that feeling
when you flee into the ruins of
a Comic Book Shop?

The feeling of
safety, power and understanding?
The power of Superheroes!?
This FREAK does!

From the mean sewers below
we bring you Graphic!
This historical kitten
Will. Knock. You. Out.

And she’s no New 52!