A Propensity for Wrath

by becuzitswrong

Disclaimer: I do not own Worm. That belongs to Wildbow.

Summary: Taylor triggers with a different power. With the ability to see the auras of those around her, as well as to imbue items with her own emotions, Taylor's life takes a different direction.

ARC I: ANGER

Chapter One: The Beginning

Taylor vomited all over herself, adding to the reeking mess in her locker. The stench was suffocating and for a moment, she just couldn't breath. When she was finally able to take a lungful of air, Taylor was unable to control her gag reflex. Soon, more vomit joined the rest decorating herself and her prison.

How she'd arrived in her current accommodations was no mystery. Emma Barnes, her former best friend, along with Madison Clements and Sophia Hess were responsible. Taylor was certain it had been Sophia who had forced her into the locker once she'd opened it if for no other reason than she'd had the other two in view right before it happened.

Banging as hard on the metal inside of her locker as she could, Taylor screamed, "Let me out! Please, Emma, help me! Please!"

Despite all of her pleas for aid, none came. Not that Taylor had truly expected any. Still, it took time, even if only the half hour that passed, for her to lose all hope. Finally, she truly understood that no one was coming to save her. None of the other students cared enough to risk getting on the wrong side of her trio of bullies. No one was coming to her aid. She'd be in here until a teacher or one of the school custodians found her.

The only problem was that Taylor didn't know if she'd survive that long. Or maybe survive was the wrong term for what she'd feared would happen. After all, it wasn't as if spending time in a small metal box, even if it was filled with the most foul and disgusting mess she'd ever encountered was actually life threatening.

No, Taylor wouldn't be suffering from starvation or dehydration any time in the next few hours. Instead, what she truly feared was going insane, losing her grasp upon reality utterly as her damaged mind fled the pain of betrayal, of friendship lost, of knowing that no one really cared enough about her to lift a finger to help.

Taylor shivered as she managed to stop dry heaving long enough to consider that. It was true. No one cared about her. Not even her dad cared enough to figure out that things at school were going so very wrong. Slowly, tears began to stream down Taylor's cheeks as the girl considered her current life.

Oh, maybe Danny Hebert knew that Taylor wasn't the bright sunny girl she'd been when she was younger. But he'd never cottoned onto what was happening to her every day at school. That Emma and she were no longer friends. That Taylor was now creeping through life doing her best to stay hidden, unnoticed, as if to escape the notice of not just her bullies, but of anyone else who might have a chance to get close enough to betray her.

Her fingers trembled as she restrained herself from beating again upon the uncaring metal of the locker door. It would do no good and would only cause her more pain. Instead, Taylor focused inwards, as if to somehow reach a place where she would finally be safe. A place where no one would ever hurt her again.

After a time, Taylor's tears dried. A little longer, and she'd stopped paying attention to the things in the filth surrounding her that occasionally bit her. Finally, Taylor refused see anything around her but the darkness. Finally, she was at peace. Finally, she was safe. It was at moment that she noticed something mindbogglingly. Two huge creatures twisting around one another in space. Somehow, there was communication between them.

Destination.

Agreement.

Trajectory.

Confide-

NO.

Taylor shivered as a different voice, as alien as the others, assaulted her ears. For a moment, blinding light filled her eyes as she felt like she was being torn apart. For a moment...

The locker door opened. Another kind of light filled Taylor's eyes as she fell sideways onto the floor, covered with filth. Blinking against the glare, she opened her mouth. A moment later, Taylor Hebert began screaming.

~~~~~~Wrath~~~~~~

Taylor woke up with a scream on her lips as her dream of once again being stuffed into the locker by Sophia Hess slowly faded away with her awakening. She slowly sat up, shivering as the room's cool air caressed her sweaty form. Four days had passed since she'd been released from the locker. Four days spent almost exclusively in a hospital bed, 'resting' as the doctors put it.

As Taylor sat there in bed, she felt restless. As if there was something she needed to do, needed to accomplish to allow her to finally relax. Taylor picked up the plastic reach extender that she'd gotten as a gift from Kurt, a friend of her dad's from the docks. He was the last person she would have expected to notice her dropping the TV remote and being unable to retrieve. But not only had he noticed her struggles, he'd come up something that should keep it from happening again. Almost proof that there were still good people out there Taylor thought.

As she rolled the long, slender instrument between her fingertips, Taylor shivered again. This time it wasn't the cold that caused her discomfort. No, now she was feeling... odd. Weird. Strange. Angry. Every one of the adjectives applied.

Sophia Hess.

Taylor's brown eyes darkened as she considered the person who was her greatest enemy. If Emma had been one of the architects of the plan that had resulted in her being inside of that locker, it had still been Sophia who had carried it out. Sophia who had used her greater strength to force Taylor into the mess and filth within. Sophia who had almost driven her mad inside the darkness.

For just a moment, a memory as distant as the sun and moon stirred. There was... something about the locker that she should remember. Something... With a shiver, Taylor retreated away from those ever hazier images. She didn't want to dwell upon whatever had happened within the locker. No, it was better to concentrate upon her enemy, Sophia Hess, and the mess she'd helped make of Taylor's life.

A beautiful, confidant, and athletic girl, Sophia Hess seemed good at everything, from making friends to running track. Certainly she was good at bullying one Taylor Hebert. Of stealing her one and only true friend. Although, how true had Emma really been if she could so easily dismiss so many years of friendship? Now, Taylor was alone, and the person who had caused that solitude was probably even now walking around, laughing and smiling as she enjoyed her life just a little more knowing she'd caused misery within another's.

Taylor's breath was coming faster as she became more and more agitated while dwelling on Sophia Hess. Rapid pants seemed to steal the oxygen from her lungs. Trying to control her breathing, Taylor focused more of her attention upon her feelings. If she were being completely honest, she was angry. So incredibly angry that the person who had done so much to her was again getting off without so much as a slap on the wrist.

Earlier that day, Taylor had learned from an equally angry Danny Hebert that it was her word against that of her bullies as to who had done what to whom. And her word was mud even before the locker incident. Now... well, suffice it to say, no one would be basing any disciplinary actions upon anything Taylor said. She'd had some kind psychotic break after the locker, making her seem even less credible. It was yet another thing she didn't want to think about.

All because of Sophia Hess. Taylor's jaw clenched as something that seemed equal parts hate and rage tore through her breast. That damned bitch was ruining her life and no one was willing to believe her! To help her. To save her.

Once she got out of the hospital, Taylor needed to do something about Sophia Hess. Her mind shied away from the thought of what she really wanted to do, but then, like a skittish animal, it circled back around to take another look. Taylor wanted... she wanted... If she could do anything to Sophia that her heart desired, she would...

A low pained groan tore itself from Taylor's throat as she rejected the terrible dark thoughts plaguing her consciousness. Rejected them utterly. She couldn't lower herself to their level. She was better than that. She wouldn't really...

Would she? Taylor envisioned a world with Sophia and once again hate and rage crashed against the walls of her certainty. A world without Sophia would be a wonderful place indeed.

No! That wasn't her. It was not who Taylor Hebert was. She wouldn't...

Taylor wrestled with those dark appetites as if they were physical foes. As her ever increasingly twisted and shadowy thoughts tormented her, she finally couldn't take the negative emotions they generated anymore. After a time, Taylor managed to grasp them tightly, and somehow, she hurled them away from her.

Those terrifying thoughts of hate, rage, and death were somehow thrust into the closest available target. In this case, it was the simple reach extender that she held in her hands. An object that had been changed by its consignment of hostile emotions.

Instead of a long, thin piece of plastic, Taylor now held an object of malevolence in her hands. With great difficulty, she somehow kept herself from hurling it away. Instinctively, Taylor knew that would be a very bad idea. It was as if, once out of her hands, there would be no controlling what the thing might do. Who it might harm.

Because whatever the reach extender had become most resembled a weapon. Looking almost like a long bladed knife now, the area where the blade should be pulsed with a blackness darker than night and reeked of death and decay. Staring down at it, Taylor blinked as she wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. The 'blade' almost looked as if it ate the light that touched it. It looked more like a wound in the world than an actual physical object.

Now it sat, it's handle slick, gray, and greasy against the skin of her palm. Taylor shivered in revulsion just to touch the least part of this disgusting thing, as if she'd never be clean again. As bad as the handle was, what rested next to it was far worse. There was no way on earth Taylor would ever willingly touch the surface of that blade. Ever.

Because Taylor recognized something else about her horrible creation. Something she instinctively understood. Utter and complete hatred was an essential component of the object that she tentatively held in her hands. Taylor's hatred for Sophia Hess. Her hatred and desire for Sophia's death.

How was any of this possible? Taylor's thoughts were utter chaos as she almost hyperventilated. Had she somehow taken her thoughts and emotions and passed them off into this... thing? Was this somehow linked to the odd sights she'd seen earlier, the... colors?

She needed to get control of herself. Taylor struggled with her breathing, something that was oddly easier now than it had been before she created the thing.

Certainly, now Taylor felt lighter. It was as if some great burden had been lifted from her soul. Even if the result was the abomination that lightly rested in her grasp, Taylor felt that the final result was a net gain. Of course, now she just had to figure out a way to hide the... knife, until such time as she was released from the hospital.

~~~~~~Wrath~~~~~~

"Here you go, kiddo."

Taylor nodded her thanks to her dad as he carefully helped her out of the car. It was two days later and she was finally out of the hospital. Taylor tottered like an elderly person after the six days spent mostly in bed, while she'd been poked and prodded, her sanity questioned by far too many people. Now she was back home at last. Hopefully, she'd improve more here than she'd done in the hospital.

"Let me help you."

"Thanks, Dad," Taylor said, as she took ahold of the offered arm, and used it to brace herself. Her legs were the worst part of her injuries. Apparently there'd been some type of poisonous insect in the biological waste into which she'd been thrust, which had bitten her several times.

The result had been that Taylor's legs still felt a little weak and she was more than a bit unsteady walking around. Still, she'd been given what the doctors assured her and her dad was the appropriate anti-venom and was expected to make a full recovery.

More concerning to the doctors had been Taylor's mental state. Unless sedated, she'd screamed incessantly for the first twenty-four hours after she'd been admitted. When she'd finally stopped, she hadn't spoken for another two. Finally, early on the morning of the fourth day, Taylor had awoken feeling relatively normal, with no memory of what had happened to her after she'd been put into the locker.

It was strange not remembering that experience. Well, not remembering it except in nightmares. How weird was Taylor that she more easily remembered her nightmares than the events that caused them? She couldn't help the shiver that ran up her spine at the question. Unfortunately, the answer was very weird.

Taylor's gloomy thoughts were interrupted as they had finally reached the steps leading up to the front porch. Negotiating the rotted first step took a moment, but she managed with her dad's help. Danny seemed extra solicitous as he opened the door for her and helped her over to the couch. Once seated, Taylor watched as her dad twisted his hands together as though he wanted to do something further for her.

Deciding to help to him out, Taylor spoke, "Dad, would you make me a cup of tea? You know the kind I like."

For the first time since she'd gotten into the car, her dad smiled. In a reassuring tone, Danny said, "Certainly, kiddo. I'll put the kettle on and make us both a cup. Would like anything else to go with it? Maybe a few cookies?"

Taylor gave him a quick nod as he waited, then watched as he walked away. Her dad looked just a little less gray to her now, his blues just a tiny bit stronger. Somehow, she needed to help him.

Taylor chewed her lip as she considered the things she'd figured out over the last two days. When she'd woken up the morning of the fourth day, she'd been coherent and sane. Still, it had taken her a while to figure out that she wasn't actually crazy.

Not only had the doctors' questions been intrusive and borderline insulting, but Taylor hadn't been able to trust the things her eyes were seeing. Whereas before, she'd always seen just fine, even if she did have to wear glasses, now she was seeing something really weird. Every person she saw was a mass of coruscating colors.

That first day, Taylor saw a lot of blues, greens, and yellows in the hospital workers who came and went around her, performing their jobs. She also saw quite a few reds, oranges, and grays. Thank goodness she hadn't told anyone else about the colors she saw or she was quite certain she'd still be in the hospital undergoing yet another battery of psych tests.

Instead, Taylor had kept what she saw to herself as she tried to make sense of the things she was seeing. After a time, her observations had allowed her to tentatively decide that the colors seemed to correspond to the emotional state of the person.

It had been Nurse Nancy who had been a fundamental key to her understanding of what was happening. She'd been assigned to take care of Taylor and went about it with an effervescent cheerfulness. The woman was just so bubbly and friendly, making Taylor feel extremely comfortable around her. Equally as sunny as her disposition had been her colors, a strong mix of bright yellows and pinks overlaying warm blues and verdant greens.

Taylor had thought that shade of yellow seemed to mean friendly and maybe outgoing, but she wasn't sure about the pink. Not until she'd seen Nurse Nancy around the young doctor who had been in charge of treating the bites on her legs. Suddenly, the pinks had strengthened tremendously, totally dominating the nurse's color, while her manner had become more than a little flirtatious. So Taylor had figured out that pink meant passion, or perhaps love.

Taylor had also attributed the greens to healing as almost all of the hospital staff that she interacted with had them. Blues, on the other hand, seemed to be warmth, or maybe caring for another human being. Or perhaps even protectiveness. Unfortunately, Taylor didn't have quite enough examples of actions to tie an emotion directly to that color.

There had been many more examples of colors and actions that had furthered Taylor's understanding of her powers. Because that was exactly what they had to be. Taylor Hebert had become a Parahuman and now she had powers.

Taylor knew that if she could see herself, she'd probably be a little yellow right now as well, as a surge of joy went through her at the idea of her becoming a Parahuman. She didn't know if there was any use of the power she'd been given, but it did exist. Because of it, she was now special. A somebody, instead of the nobody she'd been the past year and a half.

Of course, if her powers made Taylor happy at the mere idea of them, she'd already seen there was a drawback. Because seeing the colors of the people around her and being able to judge their emotional states was only a part of what she could do. The other part, the part that had manifested the night before last, scared her breathless.

Taylor had ended up hiding the knife she'd made at the bottom of the bag her dad had brought her the day before under the ordinary clothing there. Still, its presence preyed upon her mind. During the remainder of Taylor's stay in the hospital, she constantly expected the knife to leap from her bag at any moment and proceed to kill everyone in the room. It felt that dark and evil to her.

Taylor's brooding was interrupted by Danny's return with snacks and tea. "Here you go, kiddo."

Taylor took a sip of her tea, then blew on it a bit after the first taste scalded her tongue. Its warmth seemed to thaw her chilled thoughts. From somewhere, she summoned a smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"Anything, kiddo." Danny's face fell as he spoke again, "You know I have to head back to work now that I've got you settled here at home, right? Especially since I've been out for the last six days. There's a great deal I need to catch up on if I'm going to keep the Union going."

Taylor nodded. "I understand. Don't worry about me. I'll just watch some TV. I don't plan to do anything that requires any form of exertion for the rest of the day. Okay?"

Danny smiled as he nodded. "Okay. I'll be back by six to make dinner. Call me if you need anything." He leaned down and kissed the top of Taylor's head before he headed back out the front door.

As Taylor listened to the sounds of her dad's car fading into the distance, she knew she needed to get some kind of handle on exactly what this strange ability she'd been given was capable of. So far, she'd seemingly been able to detect the emotional states of others around her displayed in the form of multitudes of colors. She wasn't always sure what all of the colors meant, but learning more about them was likely just a matter of trial and error.

Her second ability was... well, Taylor didn't really know. Had she somehow... imbued was the only word she could think of to describe what she'd done. Had Taylor somehow imbued that silly reach extender with her hatred and loathing for Sophia Hess? Equally important, how had doing do affected her own self?

Taylor had felt lighter and more rational after doing whatever she'd done. The intensity of the earlier emotions had been muted, as if she was viewing them from a distance, rather than feeling them directly. Still, just the thought of the loathsome black-bladed weapon that sat under her clothing in her bag made her feel queasy. She needed to do something about it immediately.

Carefully, Taylor reached out and grabbed her bag. Opening it, she slowly pulled out her clothing until she came to where the blade lay. Innocently lurking there on the bottom of her bag, its mere existence utterly repulsed her.

Just as Taylor remembered, the knife's blade seemed to pulse with a sickening darkness. Even in her well lit living room, it existed as a mere blot of darkness, as if did indeed consume whatever light fell upon it. The blade also throbbed as if to some silent heartbeat. Taylor did not want to touch the knife's blade, or even the handle. But even less did she want this upstairs with her in her own room, bag or no bag.

No, this needed to be exiled to the basement. Taylor used a shirt that she didn't really care about to wrap around the handle so she didn't have to touch it directly. Struggling to her feet, she slowly tottered towards the door to the basement, carrying the blade.

The next few minutes were a nightmare as Taylor nearly fell down the stairs twice. But finally, the black blade had a new home in her coal chute, still wrapped in her old shirt. Imprisoned by the metal of the chute, it no longer preyed so intensely upon her mind. Still, somewhere in the back of her head, she could still feel it. But only a little. Despite the difficulty of the trip back upstairs, Taylor's soul felt infinitely lighter when she plopped back down onto the couch.