Guilt (Worm AU)

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Taylor triggers with the ability to force an entire city to confront their sins, how will they...
Index

Fencer

Writer
Location
2nd shift
Pronouns
He/Him
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Taylor
Guilt Taylor

I woke up still in the locker, still trapped; I could barely breathe from the smell of it all and the sensation of bugs crawling over my skin and the filth that clung to me, all of it was overwhelming.

A part of me reached out and felt the area around me lit up like a Christmas tree, in shades of red, black, grey and brown. Then came the images.

Flashes, scenes moments; a carnival of sin flowed past my eyes.

A boy pinning a girl against a wall as he kissed her, and she squirmed trying to get away.

A computer screen filled with an image of a naked child.

A bag of white powder exchanging hands.

A group of white teens mercilessly beating a black man.

Theft.

Bullying.

Murder.

Infidelity.

Arson.

Rape.

Racism.

And amidst it all, again and again I watched myself shoved into the locker from dozens of angles, heard my own cries for help as the locker passed in and out of my line of sight.

It disgusted me. Wrong. All of it was so wrong and yet they went about their day as if they deserved the right to sleep peacefully when they went home at night. That thought more than anything triggered a rage within me.

Here they were polluting a world that was already beyond fucked up, and acting like it was their God given right to trample on others. And in that moment the filth I was trapped with seemed inconsequential. What was physical filth, no matter how disgusting, in comparison to all the human garbage which surrounded me?

It was nothing and these people who were pretending to be human were both less and more. They all held even less value in my eyes yet they were so much more in that they spread their decay to those they persecuted.

An inarticulate scream worked its ways out past my teeth at the injustice of it all, and in the wake of that scream silence fell.

All day there had been at least some scattered noise that I could hear from within my metal coffin but now absolute silence had fallen.

For about a minute that silence remained unbroken before the sound of crying filled the air. At first it was a soft noise barely more than a sniffle but it grew in volume as more voices joined the first.

Then came the muttering, the murmurs seemed to grow in volume although the words were lost in the growing cacophony. Finally came the shouts and the screams. Denials filled the air, but so too did apologies, screams of 'have mercy' and other shouts. And over it all was the growing sound of shoes smacking against linoleum. At first it was only a single set of feet but quickly the noise grew until it drowned out everything else, and it was drawing closer.

"We have to get her out of there!"

"Does anyone know the combination?"

"Fuck the combination! Just rip the God damn door off!"

"Someone call an ambulance! With that shit she's in there with she's going to need it!"

"And the cops! Someone call the damn cops! It'll be about time those fucks did something useful for a change!"

The rest of the shouts became hard to understand. I could feel my consciousness slipping away even as loud bangs started to come from the door in front of me. Despite the situation I couldn't help but smile. They could learn, could be prodded to take responsibility for their actions, and to better the world around them.

Maybe now things could finally start to get better.

As the locker door came off its hinges and light spilled inside my smile grew. Truly this would be the beginning of change, change for the better.
 
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Sophia
Guilt: Sophia

In spite of my best efforts I couldn't fight the grin tugging at the edges of my mouth. Even Mrs. Nuggent's boring ass class couldn't hamper the high I was riding on right now.

Two days. It took Emma, Madison and I two days to collect all of the shit we stuffed into Hebert's locker. God had that been disgusting, but now…

Heh.

Now it was easily ten times worse, and we had stuck Hebert in there.

It was all I could do not to start laughing at the memory of her screaming to 'let her out'. Stupid uppity bitch, no one helps prey. Prey gets left behind and dies.

Heh, maybe the stupid bitch would actually die in there! Hmm though that could be a problem… If she did end up dying the school might be forced to investigate. I doubt many people would risk turning on Emma and I, but still better safe than sorry…

Maybe we could send Madison to the Janitor with a complaint about the fact that Hebert's Locker was stinking up the entire hallway? That would get her out of there and would even help cover our asses. Still though couldn't let her out too soon or she wouldn't learn anything from the experience.

My grin took on a vicious edge at the thought of her staying in there for another two or three more hours.

I wonder if one of the teachers would hear her screaming before we sent the jan-

Spinning clusters of light,

Massive forms moving through space eclipsing stars as they move.

"Sophia, Sophia are you all right?" Mrs. Nuggent asked.

"Huh." The hell just happened?

"You collapsed onto your desk dear, are you alright? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Collapsed? What the fuck? I don't collapse, I might sleep through some classes but I don't faint or collapse or any of that shit! What the fuck-

A scream ripped through the air. It was Raw, primal full of hate, and pain. Impossibly loud and clear, it filled me with dread.

And then something changed. My mind froze and memories bubbled up to the surface, memories I was familiar with and yet they were different.

The corner of Lord Street, and Washington, on the edge of the docks, this is where I killed my first ganger. I had missed his shoulder and punctured a lung. Only I had shot him from a roof so why was I standing in the street. Pain, hot and sharp lanced through my left side a crossbow bolt sticking all the way through me and out my chest. Through my lung, my breath was labored. I was choking on blood and I couldn't even breath properly.

Fuck! No! Not like this God damn it! I'm not Prey, I'm a Predator damn it all!

A shadow loomed over me.

"Fuck you, you weak fuck, this is exactly what you deserve." I tried to scream back at the hockey mask that was speaking to me in my own voice but all that came out was a wet gurgle.

Things began to get blurry and slowly the world faded to black as I panicked.

My eyes snapped open.

No. No! No, no, no. Not again!

George Street, just past the quickie Mart on the roof of a warehouse no one had used in years. Spinning around there I was Hockey mask and crossbows, cloak wafting dramatically in wind blowing off of the bay.

In the blink of an eye my world exploded in pain as an arrow buried in each of my knees, I screamed in pain as my legs gave out and I fell back onto my ass my head and shoulders hanging over the edge of the warehouse.

"You Nazi fuck. You're a stain, a waste of space." The figure stomped down hard on one of my shot up knees.

I screamed, I'd never been in so much pain in my life before and I screamed and screamed and screamed. And while I screamed I could hear my voice chuckling darkly. A kick to my side caused me to jerk a half foot towards the edge of the roof.

I remember this, only one story up I thought he was sure to survive, but he landed just wrong and snapped his neck.

Another kick and I was over the edge falling headfirst I watched as the pavement came rushing up to meet me.

Darkness

More memories shorter now, a man whose hand I skewered with a bolt after he was already down. The dumbass I watched get beaten to death because he didn't even fight back. Shoving Hebert down the stairs. The chick I left to be raped because she hadn't fought back. Bashing Hebert's flute with a brick and rubbing it in dog shit. Blinding that merchant by breaking a glass bottle across his eyes when he was already on his last legs. Stealing homework from a half dozen classmates. Taunting Missy about being an immature little squirt.

The locker, being shoved face first into the pile of used pads and tampons reeking of stale blood. Puke flowing out of my mouth and down my shirt as laughter, my own and others echoed in my ears, taunting me, tormenting me, damning me with each sick and twisted giggle.

I'm a sick and twisted person. I've done so much wrong.

I came back to myself, the classroom again, all around me people are starting to make sounds of distress, and confusion, one girl in the corner is crying. The old me would have sneered but I can't now. I'm no predator, no hero, just a coward, a bully, a bitch.

My stomach feels like lead, I bolt to the trashcan at the front of the room and empty my stomach into it.

I can't take this.

I can't deal with this, I can't just sit here, I need to move, to run, to get away!

Without a thought or a care I slip into my shadow state and out of the building. I take off at a run. I don't care where I'm going I just need to go, to get away from this.

I'll run, however long it takes to forget and put this behind me I'll run.
 
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Oni-Lee
Guilt: Oni-Lee

I stand; calm, emotionless, ready. Just as I always do when Kenta has no need of me.

It is all I have left, I am his assassin his second in command. I am all of these things, and nothing more.

I have not thought for myself in years and it has been longer still since I felt anything at all. I am the very essence of the cold killer, and yet a single scream otherworldly in its intensity and weight stirs something that so many other screams, and threats and battles have all failed to elicit.

Dread.

For the first time in three years I feel something.

It is not a good feeling, it stings like knife blade. Before I can even come to grips with what I am feeling a new sensation grabs hold of me.

I stare into the face of my own mask as a knife blade slips into my neck, shaky, unpracticed, and rough. I recognize the apartment room. This was my first kill… from the other end of the knife.

As the sensation of hot blood pouring down my chest worked its way through my thoughts an altogether different sensation started to form in the pit of my stomach.

I felt… uneasy.

The scene shifted another apartment, a grenade going off an filling my chest with shrapnel.

Several bullets through the chest.

Severing a man's finger.

With each passing scene the sense of unease grew, until I felt remorse, shame, disgust. Was this really all that my life amounted to a list of people whom I had killed because I had been ordered to?

Strange, normally I would not have cared but now rather than feeling hollow at the thought I felt… a compulsion. A need to redeem myself, to atone to put an end to the cycle I had trapped myself in. In that moment as I found myself bleeding out yet again I felt anger. When I realized what my power was doing to my mind I had entrusted myself to Kenta, let him guide me. If this was all that my life had amounted to clearly I had made the wrong choice.

The emotions are overwhelming after going so long without feeling this disgust this shame this revulsion, burns, it is unbearable, overwhelming all encompassing.

It needs to stop.

Kenta and I, we have done so much damage over the years, it was time to atone for that.

My mind snapped back to my own body in the present day. Shaking off the last of my disorientation I picked up my gear an affixed my mask over my face. It was time for Oni-Lee to make his final appearance.

With quick and measured strides I marched out of my room, down the hall towards Kenta's office. I studiously ignored the members of the ABB I saw as I walked, all of them acted strangely. I was not the only one affected by that scream, but they did not matter, not now. Not bothering to knock I opened the door and stepped inside Kenta's room only to be greeted by a sight I never would have expected to see.

Kenta bent over his small trash bin vomiting.

"Lee, things need to change." Kenta huffed out between gasps for air.

"Yes." A simple statement but I felt no compulsion to elaborate on the thought. Things needed to change and I intended to change them.

"I… I don't know where to begin Lee, there is so much to atone for. I am strong, I have gathered those around us to increase that strength, but I have no purpose Lee, no purpose worth pursuing at any rate."

I nodded but kept my silence. I was glad to hear that my friend realized the depth of his mistakes. Now we could atone for them together.

That thought brings me a small bit of peace.

Atonement. Such a small word for such a large concept, I doubt I will actually be able to atone for all I have done, still I will do what I must.

"We will need to dissolve the ABB. I have amassed a small fortune, perhaps that can be used to somehow make recompense." Kenta said, an edge of hysterics creeping into his voice now.

Beneath my mask I frown. It would appear that once again I have misjudged my old friend. Obviously he has not come to the same conclusion that I have. Still that is alright. I know what must be done, and I can just as easily make the decision for the two of us as I can for myself. After all, that has been my greatest skill for many years now.

"We have done more than enough Kenta, it is time to rest." Only minutes ago that sentence would not, could not, have left my mouth. Now it was the most natural thing in the world to say.

Kenta fixed me with a befuddled look. "Lee, do you not understand we have a great dept to pay? There is no time for us for rest."

Shaking my head I step forward and pull Kenta, my brother in all but blood back onto his feet and embrace him.

"I understand Kenta, but this is how we atone."

In the blink of an eye I teleport three times so that I surround my friend one to each side and without hesitation each of us reaches to the side and pulls the pins on the grenades we wear across our chests.

With one last smile that my friend cannot see my clones and I embrace him. I whisper into his ear. "It is time to rest now my friend. We go now together."

With no warning Kenta will be unable to survive so many explosions point blank.

The calm washes over me fully now. Truly, it is time to rest.
 
Well, this is an interesting premise.

To be honest, I don't see how to really make a story out of it, but I guess that just mean I get to be surprised.
 
Well, this is an interesting premise.

To be honest, I don't see how to really make a story out of it, but I guess that just mean I get to be surprised.
I was going to put the link up in the ideas thread once I had the next snip written but already people found it. Probably should have expected that, oh well.

I have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to do, for now suffice to say this will be a very unconventional worm fic in quite a few ways.
 
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Considering how terrible people in canon worm are portrayed as, I'd be surprised if 60% of the people in Taylor's range didn't just off themselves, 30% slip into some kind of depression and the last 10% actually do something with themselves to make up for it.

Speaking of which, how far is her range
 
Considering how terrible people in canon worm are portrayed as, I'd be surprised if 60% of the people in Taylor's range didn't just off themselves, 30% slip into some kind of depression and the last 10% actually do something with themselves to make up for it.

Speaking of which, how far is her range
your not far off but there are going to be a few unconventional responses, hookwolf whose post I am halfway through is going to be one of those. Also there is still one aspect of Taylor's power I have yet to demonstrate.

Her range is the city, either all of it or so much of it that it makes no difference.
 
A very interesting premise. I think this is somewhat like the concept of a Life Review? Like here, the people who experienced it got to see their actions firsthand from the victim's point of view. Both physically and mentally.

Now I am anticipating Jack Slash getting hit by this. Given all the pain he had been happily doling out, the effect will be astronomical.
 
A very interesting premise. I think this is somewhat like the concept of a Life Review? Like here, the people who experienced it got to see their actions firsthand from the victim's point of view. Both physically and mentally.

Now I am anticipating Jack Slash getting hit by this. Given all the pain he had been happily doling out, the effect will be astronomical.

He might just get off on it. Unlike Sophia he's not deluding himself, saying he's a hero while indulging sadism. He knows exactly what he's doing to people and either doesn't care, or simply enjoys it
 
Hookwolf
Guilt: Hookwolf

I looked across the pit and stands from my VIP box. One of our newer recruits worked to clean the blood up from the last series of dog fights. Last night's fights had been particularly entertaining. It was always interesting to see a new challenger dethrone the previous champion.

Leaving my office I took the chance to inspect the cages. We had another fight coming up in week and it's important to make sure there are enough mutts ready and able to fight. After all the crowds had to be kept happy, and where was the fun in things if they had to go home early from a lack of fights?

As I stalked past the cages several of the dogs cringed back, while others snarled or barked. Only one dog, a large Rottweiler, eyed me with caution without backing down. The tag on the cage identified the dog as Scorn.

I'd have to bet on Scorn during the upcoming fights, despite the lack of scars indicating his freshness he had a steely intelligence behind his eyes that would serve him well in the pit. Flashing the dog a feral grin I moved on.

"Ted, don't get those pits too clean, a bit of old blood always puts the mutts on edge." I barked out at my overly enthusiastic new recruit.

"Sorry boss, I'll"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a scream; long and piercing, sharp, a girl, probably young. Hearing the scream caused a shiver to go down my back, a sense of trepidation settled over me.

Memories flood my mind.

Death. That is the only way to describe what I experience, maybe a hundred or more deaths; humans, dogs, that one horse the idiot police officer rode. I feel my flesh ripped apart by blades, my own blades. I feel teeth and claws sink through flesh and fur that are not my own but are simultaneously my own. Pain, so much pain, and now seeing it from the other perspective all of it seems so pointless.

I snap back to my own body. This can't be right. I live for the rush of a fight, for the honor of combat! These things are who I am, I cannot be wrong, they CANNOT BE WRONG! I can feel my arms shaking but am powerless to stop it. I live for combat and honor those things cannot be meaningless!

"B-boss? What was that? I, I don't, I can't…" Ted crumples to the floor and vomits all over my fighting pit. This sniveling wretch thinks he is part of the Empire? Something inside me snaps. It's too much all of this it's too much, I won't accept this, whatever has caused these thoughts this, this remorse I won't accept it I… I will fight this! I will FIGHT! Lashing out I shift one arm into series of blades, knives and hooks with a sweep of my arm pulps Ted above the shoulders.

Another flash as I experience Ted's death, his fear his panic.

NO! NO! I will not accept this! I am a warrior! I have honor! Those things are not meaningless! I will prove it! I will justify myself! I will put an end to whatever this garbage that clouds my mind is! With an incoherent scream of rage I bolt for the door. A quick application of my power combined with a kick and what was once a thick oak door becomes so many wood chips.

I will not allow this to control me! I cannot be wrong! I will find the cape responsible for this, and I will end them! With these thoughts prominent in my mind I launch myself into the city. I shift my arms and face into to blades but otherwise leave my body unchanged as I march down the street into the city.

"Come out you coward! Come out and face me! Stop toying with my mind and face your death with honor!"
 
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Double down policy eh :p

Also its 'Accept' as in 'acceptance'

Rather than

'Except' as in 'exemption'
 
We have just identified our primary source of conflict for this story. The effects do not always have the desired result. In fact, i bet there are quite a few parahuman psycho's who would just love this. Crawler and Jack Slash just to name a couple.
 
Double down policy eh :p

Also its 'Accept' as in 'acceptance'

Rather than

'Except' as in 'exemption'

We have just identified our primary source of conflict for this story. The effects do not always have the desired result. In fact, i bet there are quite a few parahuman psycho's who would just love this. Crawler and Jack Slash just to name a couple.

Yup some people just can't ever accept that they are wrong and rather than be rational they ignore the evidence in front of them or they lash out. As a 20th century Nazi hookwolf has a lot of experience with that.
 
Yup some people just can't ever accept that they are wrong and rather than be rational they ignore the evidence in front of them or they lash out. As a 20th century Nazi hookwolf has a lot of experience with that.

Parahumans I'm interested in seeing in the future:

Purity

Kaiser,

Night

Bakuda

Alexandria

Contessa.
 
Taylor will visit Boston next, and the people who caused Accord to go villain will feel guilty about it, and Accord will like... be not guilty because everything went according to plan
 
Taylor will visit Boston next, and the people who caused Accord to go villain will feel guilty about it, and Accord will like... be not guilty because everything went according to plan

He will, however, be quite ticked off at having half his Ambassadors crying in the lobby while the rest are taking UNACCEPTABLE leaves of absence.
 
Interesting take on a Simurgh Taylor that doesn't have precog/postcog. She screams, and people within her AOE become ticking timebombs created from their own guilt. I'm watching to see where this goes.
 
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