Heads turned. It was an oddly suspicious sight, no doubt about it, but staring was considered rude, was it not? Or, did you wave all your rights of courtesy when you did something out of the ordinary? And if you did, then would it be considered immoral? What about equal rights and all that jazz? Certainly, if whites could sing jazz and gays could get married, a woman could walk down the street in a trench coat? It wasn't that out of place.

Viola wondered what bystanders thought of her as she passed—maybe they thought she was a hooker. Though if anyone were to have the nerve to approach and ask a question like how much do you charge? She would waste no time making sure they knew she was not a skank, and they would walk away with a handprint on their face, and freshly crushed nuts. Just as she had done in the past.

They could think she was a stripper. Although she had never danced exotically, she couldn't say that she had never been naked on stage. That, however, was an accident. Her father sure didn't think so, though. All he knew was that a multitude of men had seen his daughter's breasts, and that was enough for him to reach for his booze and shotgun. After all, he had a family reputation to protect, and he wasn't going to let a group of horny middle-aged losers mock it.

What if the people thought she was an undercover cop—a detective, perhaps? She laughed slightly at the ironic thought of being grouped with any type of law enforcement. She was much, much better than they would ever be, and she knew it. She was swift, strong, intellectual, and resourceful. Of course, so were police men, but they were bound to human limitation. She was not.

She tried to avoid the awkward moment of meeting the eyes of the people around her. She gazed ahead, looking stern and frightening to anyone who watched. She was stiff as a board, and didn't even sway her arms as she walked through the streets of the city. Every now and then, she grinned to herself. These idiots that whispered as she passed had absolutely no clue what was to happen in just a few short minutes.

Viola looked at her watch. She had a good fifteen minutes before everything would be ready, which gave her plenty of time to check up on things. With all luck, every bit of her plan would go swimmingly, and very, very soon, she'd be an immensely happy woman.

It was busier in the town center than on a normal day, which was another thing that made her happy. Things were looking up for her today, but of course, they always were. She was, after all, an extremely powerful and terrifying woman—the people around her just hadn't figured it out yet. However, soon, they would recognize her, and they would run and shriek in terror, which was Viola's favorite part. They actually thought she'd waste a second of her valuable power and skill on mere civilians—as if. Maybe some other villain, but she, was above such child's play.

The super-villain had been in town square much too often not to know the entire layout. She'd been terrorizing the place for almost twenty years now and still wasn't ready for retirement. Not until she locked her place in the history books as the greatest villain to ever fly through the sky. It was much pressure, though. If she were to fail, she'd land in the timeline as the world's greatest failure.

Failing wasn't an option to Viola. It never had been, and it wasn't going to become one now. She'd gone too far to fail now. She was a feared woman—even members of the League trembled at the sight of her cape flapping in the breeze. There was no failure, and no turning back. And today, was just the beginning, she could feel it. There was still so much work to be done that she wasn't sure she could do it alone.

Alone. What a sad little word, is it not? That was another thing about Viola. She had been alone in most of her villainy. She'd only ever had one partner, her twin sister, Violet, who retired almost eighteen years prior. And still, her sister was the only person she didn't mind tagging with.

She stared at the payphone across the street, made of glass and painted red. She could see her reflection in the polished glass—her slick, black hair pulled back in a tight bun that made her look years older than when her hair was down, her natural tan, glowing skin, all covered by her old, ugly khaki trench coat. It was then she realized that most people assumed she was a prostitute that was off duty, as she was wearing knee-high black boots with heels.

She shook her head, annoyed as she caught another pig-headed teenage boy staring at her like she was from the planet Yilmaed. Her inner conscious told her not to worry, that he'd be speeding down the street on his skateboard in terror soon enough.

Without as much as looking both ways, the middle-aged criminal stepped into the busy intersection to cross the street. She ignored the obscene gestures the drivers of the vehicles gave her. It was harder not to let her anger get to her at the expense of the people who yelled out their windows as they swerved to dodge her.

"There's a crosswalk right there, you dumb bitch!" One guy yelled, as his friend in the passenger seat flipped her the bird. She bit back the burning desire to incinerate the misguided fools right then and there. But she knew that that would only ruin her little surprise. All she could do was hope that they would still be around when the trench coat came off.

As she stepped up to the sidewalk on the other side of the street, she looked at the sky. She could now more clearly see League headquarters towering over some of the smaller buildings. She scowled. That place was the bane of her existence. Too bad it was where she was headed.

To better hide her disgust, she hurriedly crammed herself into the phone booth. After depositing a few coins, she picked up the shiny black receiver and dialed the number.

It rang three times before her sister picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" Viola demanded, looking at her watch and then shortly following that, she directed her attention to the unsuspecting victims outside.

"At home," her sister answered—she paused a beat. "Why?"

Viola didn't reply, and she heard Violet scoff on the other end of the call. "What are you up to now, Viola?"

"You say it with such distaste," Viola said, her voice tainted in sarcasm.

"There's a reason for that," her sister grumbled. "You have a daughter at home!"

"And your point?"

"She is probably worried sick. And now that you've called me, I am too. This is getting ridiculous." Violet replied.

"Jaeda knows that she has nothing to worry about," Viola defended herself. "And I'm rather surprised that you'd call this ridiculous—Madame Mayhem."

There was a small pause before her response. "I told you never to call me that." Her voice was calm, yet at the same time angry. "Madame Mayhem is dead. They all saw me die."

"Because I helped you fake it," Viola reminded her. "You owe me for that."

Violet sighed. "What do you want this time?"

"I need your help."

Violet's reply was instantaneous. "No."

"Violet, I have a strong feeling the League is up to something!" Viola was getting upset, which was never good at times like this. "They have these filing cabinets—"

"Filing cabinets?" Violet yelled in sarcastic shock. "And I thought you were the villain!"

"Will you be serious about this?" Viola was offended.

"No, I won't." Her sister countered. "I'm sick of the fact that every time we see each other, our time together consists of you trying to convince me to put on my old costume and make trouble. I told you, I won't do it."

"And why not?" She asked, but she knew the answer already.

"I have Cody now," she responded. "And unlike you, I actually care whether or not I come back to my kid."

Viola looked at the skyline. The skyscrapers plunged into the sky, seemingly poking holes in the clouds, breaking them as they passed through. "Don't accuse me of not caring for Jaeda. I just realize that having children doesn't mean that you give up all the goals you set for yourself in life. We had goals—"

"Having children means sacrifice." Violet responded, interrupting Viola's rant. "And whatever you're going to do today, I don't want to know about it. Let me be surprised like the rest of the city."

"If you insist." She responded in almost a pout. "Just stay at home until it's clear or you will be hurt. I have no control over this one."

"Isn't that just lovely?" Violet replied—again sarcastically.

"Like you said," The villain responded. "Sacrifice."

Viola could hear the sound of the dogs barking as her sister entered the living room of her house. As soon as the dogs realized who it was, they settled down again. "You know, I'm going to stop trying to give you advice, because there has never been one time that it hasn't come back to bite me in the ass."

Viola checked her watch. "That's because we have two different opinions on the same subject. So that's bound to happen." It was almost time to activate her plan. She didn't wait for her sister's response. "I've got to go." And she hung up the phone. She looked outside, no line had formed, so she was in the clear.

She dug in the pockets of her jacket and fished out a few more coins. She placed them in the machine and dialed another number.

"Hello?" Her nephew's voice answered.

"Cody?" She asked. "Is everything set?"

"Uh. Yeah." He responded timidly. There were only two people in the world who Viola knew that weren't scared of her; her daughter, and her sister. Sometimes, she felt that Cody was intimidated by her.

"And you're sure you'll be able to activate it from your home computer?" She asked, getting ready for her entrance already, taking her hair down from its bun.

"It's not that difficult," he told her. "Three buttons I think."

"You think?" Her voice was a tad on the harsh side.

"I know." He corrected. "But you're going to have to tell me when."

She glanced at her watch and smiled. "About thirty seconds."

"Okay."

"And Cody?" She prompted.

"Hm?" He asked.

"Let's not mention this to your mother. I have a feeling she'd be very, very mad at both of us."

"As long as no heroes come after me, then it should be fine, right?" He asked, he seemed at tad apprehensive.

"I will die before I let that happen." She told him, with a sincere smile on her face. "Activate the robot." And she dropped the phone, leaving it to dangle on its cord.

-1-

Within seconds, the sky was rattling.

Viola shed her trench coat, exposing the purple-and-black themed villain suit. She heard a woman scream, and a man yell something about an earthquake. She laughed manically, and slung her hands outward, creating a light-purple, almost pink force field around her, and shattering the phone booth to pieces that shot through the air in all different directions. One of the scraps took out the window of a nearby shop, causing the alarm to sound.

Keeping her arms out in a tense pose, she directed the force field upwards, and took to the sky.

"It's Miss Mischief!" A woman cried in terror.

"That's right!" Viola taunted, laughing playfully. "And I hope you all enjoy my little surprise."

People were gathering under her, forming a crowd as the earth below them vibrated. Traffic had come to a stop, and people were poking their heads out the window, wondering what was going to happen. Cell phones and cameras were pointed at Viola, and the flashes were blinding her.

"The League will stop you!" A man yelled, and people started yelling their agreements.

Anger pulsed through Miss Mischief's blood, you could more than likely see it on her face, even though a thin purple mask covered the area from the tip of her nose to the beginning of her forehead. She could feel the energy flowing through her body as her muscles tensed, and she released her anger through her hands, and shot a blast of concentrated energy into the middle of the crowd.

People screamed as the deadly discharge came their way, and they leaped over each other trying to dodge it and escape death. The impact of the bolt sent cement flying through the air, causing injuries indefinitely and leaving a huge crater in the road.

"The League cannot, and will not stop me." She looked over her shoulder, film crews from the news had shown up, and were videotaping it all. "Ever."

Suddenly, the sky started to darken. People used their hands as visors and looked up at the massive being that was half-blocking the sun. Viola wet her lips and smirked. "That would be my queue to take my leave. I bid you a due, fair citizens."

She yanked the force field up once more, and this time, she shifted her weight, and turned her body horizontally, taking off high into the sky, so she wouldn't be there when the robot made landfall. She wasn't quite sure how the creature would react to the world, and whether or not it would be functional, its creator, after all, was a seventeen year-old boy. For the sake of her reputation, however, she hoped Cody would come through.

She waited for the collision, which came in the form of a huge sonic boom that took place when the metallic monster hit the town center. She was too far away to actually see the thing, but she could hear it stomping across the pavement, creating a metal-against-metal noise as it walked. She clenched her teeth. She hated that noise.

Now, she new, it was time for the real reason she'd had Cody create that bot. She took off downwards, hoping that she wouldn't be seen, straight towards League headquarters.

-2-

Hoping her distraction had been enough, Viola lowered herself on one of the balconies of the headquarters and disintegrated her force field, allowing herself to relax her arms. She slid the glass door open, and walked straight into the heart of the place she hated—and possibly feared—League headquarters. Where all the great superheroes trained and gathered.

She looked around the room. It was a small one, but there were many pictures of heroes that she'd fought many years ago—and some that were too old for even her to remember. There was Major Might and his trusted sidekick Right Wing, along with Invisible Lass—three heroes who had died recently, and leaving Right Wing, or Justice as he was later known, as Viola's personal hero, as he had, in fact, been the one to betray and kill them.

She noticed there were a few pictures of her and her sister tacked to the wall from the Golden Days. Back when they were a team, and all. Mostly, they were from newspapers, telling of Madame Mayhem's and Miss Mischief's triumphs over the League. Why on Earth would they put up newspaper articles telling of their failures?

As she drew closer to the wall, she noticed a particular article, telling of her sister's "death". There was a picture of her sister in her costume, fighting Invisible Lass at a bank that the two of them had robbed. The caption read: Madame Mayhem, super villain tag team member, and notorious criminal finally destroyed by League member Invisible Lass.

What they didn't know, was that Invisible Lass had only unwittingly aided in the process of faking Violet's death. As she had been pregnant with Cody in even that picture.

Viola gathered herself. She was letting her mind wander and getting distracted, which had been the final mistake of too many villains. She was determined not to let it happen to her. Heading towards the door, she stopped as she put her hand on the knob, listening through the wood for any sign or sound. Nothing.

She opened the door, and peeped outside. The place was deserted, which meant her robot distraction had been a success. But of course it was—she was Miss Mischief after all.

Stepping into the hall, she reached for her belt, and took out an off-white, folded piece of paper. Unfolding it carefully, she looked to both sides of her down the long, narrow, crème-colored halls. The paper was a hand-drawn map of League headquarters that she'd stolen off some angry, failed recruit who had been trying to sell it to super villains. She located the control room on the map, and headed south when she saw that it was only a few rooms over. She rushed down the hall, counting doors and looking for dead give-a-ways, until she knew she was at the door she needed.

There was a tiny keypad on the door, locking her out. It was numbered 0-9, with extra buttons, that they probably put on there just to confuse recruits and the mentally challenged, such as Uberman.

"Oh no," Miss Mischief said sarcastically to herself. "However will I get in?" Her question was immediately followed by another energy discharge, that sent the door flying off its hinges and into pieces all over the floor of the control room.

The room itself would be heaven for her nephew. There were at least ten computers, and television monitors that let you see the training arena, which at that point, was in the last stages of construction. There were knobs and buttons that Viola dared not touch, out of fear of electrocution, or whatever funky shit they did.

She made her way to the largest of all the computers, assuming that it was the main computer, and shook the mouse. The screen was mostly black, with white letters asking her for the password. She reached into her bra—where she kept smaller items while she was in costume, and grabbed for a small USB output device she had stolen from Cody's room a few days earlier. But, unlike with most things, she intended to give it back as soon as possible.

She plugged the device in, and the screen took a moment to process it, then it read generating random code sequences.

The screen flashed several times, but after a mere fifteen seconds or so, the background of the device appeared. Viola went for the programs, then straight to files, archives, and finally to members. She had not the time to look at the files now, but, using her limited computer skills, she saved the entire members folder to Cody's device.

She yanked the thing out, and shoved back up against her boob. It was then, Miss Mischief had her most fatal lapse of judgment. She opened a search of their files, and typed the words Miss Mischief. The documents and files pulled up—she was shocked. Her archive was excruciatingly long, with theories, plans, noted weaknesses, battle strategies. It scared her. The League new much, much more about her than she ever imagined.

She rushed, looking for a way to delete all of their knowledge, everything they could use against her in the future all her—

"Ouch!" She screamed, jerking herself from the chair, and throwing a force field around her instinctively, and she took to the air, beginning to float.

A golden blob was thrown aback by the sudden summoning of the force field, and slung against the wall with a thud. Instantly, there was someone at the entrance that used to be kept private by a door.

"Kevin?" The brunette girl asked curiously, looking at him on the floor, then, her eyes went straight to Viola, and they widened. "Holy fucking shit!" she cried.

"Awww," Viola spoke up. "She's star struck. How cute."

"You're…..you're…bleeding?" The girl asked.

Viola looked at her arm, and sure enough, the smallest trickle of blood was streaming ever so slowly down from the bottom of her shoulder. "Would you look at that? I am." Viola said, keeping her force field up. She looked at the girl. "And who might you be, doll?"

The brunette looked up at her, and suddenly, her fists were engulfed in flame. "First of all, don't ever call me doll…"

"Scarlett, don't—" Kevin began, scrambling to his feet finally. "She'll tear you apart."

"Ah, Golden Boy, so nice to see you," Miss Mischief said with fake sincerity. "Nice to know you know your limitations." She shot a look at Scarlett, who was still on fire.

"You're not going to be so powerful soon, though," Golden Boy assured her. "We've finally got you trapped, Mischief."

Viola laughed a dry laugh, letting him know that she surely didn't believe that. Not even for a second. "How so?" She humored him.

"You're bleeding because I gave you a shot of a new drug we've developed. It drains your concentration, which is, by our studies, your manifestation of power."

Suddenly, a feeling washed over Viola that she hadn't had in years—fear. "If you think that you two, of all the heroes that I have fought and killed, will be my downfall, you are sadly mistaken." She began the process of drawing an energy discharge, but could not feel it flowing through her. The fear grew stronger.

"You have two choices," Golden Boy told her with a triumphant smirk. "Surrender now, and let us take you in, or hold that force field until your powers are gone, and you are destroyed by your own creation."

"Ha. If you think I'm going to surrender, you're sadly…." Suddenly, she dropped to the floor. To her shock, she was actually cornered.

"You sure about that, doll?" Scarlett asked. She and Golden Boy shared a glance, as if it weren't enough watching the fall of a great villain, they had to taunt her about it.

But she could feel herself growing weaker—she could feel her arms tremble as she struggled to keep up the force field that would very soon kill her. Without her powers, her immunity to its force would be nonexistent, and instantaneous contact with it would cause her to explode.

She couldn't, however surrender. She had to think of her daughter—her beautiful Jaeda, the one she'd never see again. The wonderful blessing in her life that had been with her for sixteen years. The only person on the planet that could still see the good in Viola, Jaeda had been the only one who even cared that she existed, and was soon to be the only one to care that she didn't.

If she surrendered and her identity was revealed, life would never be the same for Jaeda, or Violet, or even Cody. They'd be hated, and mistreated, and discriminated against to an extreme.

That's why she decided at that moment that it was time for Miss Mischief to die—and her words from less than an hour ago echoed throughout her mind: the League cannot, and will not stop me. Ever.

Oh, how wrong she'd been. How very, very wrong.

And now, all she had to do was wait for her power to give away, and in a second, an explosion would shake the building.

At that precise moment, Viola Aurora Muller said goodbye to the world—both as herself, and as her alias. Her life didn't flash before her eyes, but mental images of her daughter, and her sister, and her nephew did—they had been the only three people that she didn't want to annihilate in her lifetime.

Viola said goodbye to the world—goodbye to her life, goodbye to Miss Mischief. She held back tears as in her mind, she said goodbye to Jaeda and hoped that in some way, her daughter would hear her and forgive her for orphaning her.

She finally realized that she was not as strong a woman as she thought. She was not invincible, and that her sister had been right all along. She was a stubborn old fool who didn't deserve this merciful death. She deserved a slow, painful one, which everyone who hated her could watch.

The time was close, she could practically taste death.

She'd be ashamed to say it, but her last thought was not of her daughter. As much as she would regret it, her last thought, was of flying through the skies of pure azure.

A/N If it's totally dumb, just say so. Well…I don't how long it will be before this is read, considering the fact that it is the first story for the novel HERO, but I will finish this story for people to read when this fandom becomes active.

Anyways, if it's not worth my time, just say so….