Man Of Chainsaws

Viktoria had not hunted much since Natasha's death, though there was an occasional violent fervor that would lead her to kill several Revenants in a week. She cared little of anything otherwise and was a scared and lonely woman.

What she cared for today was that she had been called in about a serial sexual harasser, who by reactions women had known as a host, and she saw him 30ft away talking to another woman, in the middle of this alley. He was a short, spiky haired blond.

"It's my #1 goal in life to touch a woman's breasts, you know? If you wanted, you could have my body."

The woman nervously laughed as she saw Viktoria. "Wouldn't you rather donate it to science?"

"Oh, I dunno. You know, this hot red-head asked me to eat a cigarette once and bark like a dog for her, and I did, but-"

Viktoria's slime-tendril extended and pulled the woman to her before he could react, depositing her behind as her other tendril shot for him -

"-oh fuck- Pochita!" he shouted; a bizarre small four-legged orange pet with a chainsaw sprouting from its head appeared and burrowed within him, and in the next instant he became a man of chainsaws; his head a motor of many chattering teeth and his appendages supplemented by chainsaws, and in the next instant -

- a chainsaw sliced away her extending tendril, yet at the last second she had pulled it and the decapitated piece landed safely back upon her own slime-body; another tendril shot her up & to the right wall as three chainsaws slammed down where she had just been, and as they sliced upwards to her -

- a single slime-blade sliced out a hole in the wall; into this second-floor storage room she swept, rushing away from the chainsaws barely missing her behind. She heard a grunt of exertion from him outside as the building twitched, then tilted at the strength of his heavy pull below, but another tendril yanked her to the ceiling and she reached the crumbling roof quickly; no time to waste, she ripped her own heart out and threw it out above, thin tendril of slime connecting her for the ride as the building collapsed upon him below.

Midair, she saw his motorhead move in the direction of the other building, and thick chains pulled it down as well; his blackened eyes did not catch sight of her midair figure until a few moments later, and when they did so her slime-body refracted the light of the sun into his eyes as she hit the apex of her arc; yet he was not affected, and several chains shot out towards her -

- but holes opened in her body like a trypophobiac's nightmare and the chains cleared through each hole, slime dodging through each as she landed in the road beside, still 50ft away from him as his chainsaws cleared through the remaining rubble, turning to face him as she stood still in the road. More chains shot towards her as she rushed at him; her body crumbled and the chains flew overhead, and as she reformed, Otstoy's tendrils gripped the chains and tried to pull him to her; yet his ground was strong, and his pull far stronger -

- but several slime-cleats kept her footing static for now; another pull set her off-balance for a moment, and several chains caught her and wrapped deeply around her, a single chainsaw flying at her from ahead and aiming for her trapped heart -

- but the next scene was instant. Her slime-tendrils drilled holes within the chains and she slurped all but her flesh-heart into them, a thin sheet of slime connecting her exposed heart that constantly moved and swapped across these dual chains as her body within advanced, dodging more chainsaws as she continually slithered closer to their wielder; he could not retreat the chains without quickening her own offense, and as she came close to him, his chainsaw-head swung down upon her -

- but she burst out of the chains and reformed behind him; a single slime-blade stabbed through his spine and her slime thinned as she burrowed herself into the bloodied entrance, as within him her slime infiltrated, traveled, burrowed and sliced, then expanded outward within him until his body collapsed into a final web of gore and she stepped out reformed with his still-beating heart in her hand.

She scanned, then destroyed it after seeing the ability.

[POCHITA: Chainsaw appendages; increased speed/durability/strength/regeneration; ability to erase from history the hosts it kills.]

She recalled it alike one that she & Natasha had killed, though Natasha had not killed it quickly enough for the host to not regenerate twice. She had often needed Viktoria's help for things.

When Viktoria had learned of Natasha's death, she had felt a piece of her existence shrivel, for now her only reminder of Natasha was in Iris, a woman she despised for who she had chosen to align herself alongside. To Viktoria Iris's choices were intended as a mocking of herself; in a way she had little conception as to the permanency of Iris's life, that it possessed movement even when she could not see it; thus the delusion that all was aimed at herself. Little doubt was there that she had nursed this conception of Natasha as well.

Thus to Viktoria Iris was not only the source of grief, but of all grief in the universe, and as the universe began and ended with Viktoria there could be no other. It was why, though in recent months she had despised Olivia with ten-fold the malice she held against Iris; her former protege a vessel into which all anger had been poured; it was now Iris who she viewed as more a danger, for her existence was not something that the world had but what the universe had lost.

She had the revelation that Iris had disrespected Natasha by not continuing the Natural Disaster hero name, despite that Natural Disaster had been Olivia's suggestion (over Natasha's own Heavy Weather), and one Viktoria further hated her for. In the swirl of time many ancillary attachments of Natasha became affixed to Viktoria's own; at the base of it there was a grieving woman who had little other meaning but what she could scour. Grief amplified her, as it amplifies all that exists within a person. The altruistic become more charitable, the sullen more sullen, the bitter bitterer. Viktoria was a bitter woman before, but now she had not even the voice of Natasha to press inward the bilious thoughts that emanated from her skull.