And The Wraith paced...

The Wraith sat in her lair, listening to Keith Urban, as all superheroes do, and she pondered. Things had been quiet lately but she could feel the underpinnings of something coming. She couldn’t put her finger on it but she knew that there was something out there in the dark, something undefined, something most definitely lurking. And she didn’t like when things lurked.

She paced within her confined space, not yet willing to go out into the night and seek that indefinable thing and find out what it was. Yet her hackles were up and her restless grew with each passing hour. She felt trapped by circumstance, unable to let go of things in the recent past that haunted her. Mistakes she’d made, opportunities lost, just general bullshit that hadn’t yet found its place in her psyche to be buried.

She thought about calling Logi-Gal and Emo Chanel just to talk but realized that she didn’t feel like talking because she didn’t know what she would say. Pent up feelings are hard to express when you’re a superhero. Everyone expects that you deal with things well, because you have to. They don’t see the underneath, the darkness that always lurks in the corners of the mind, waiting for a chance to leap out and take you hostage. Every superhero is manic-depressive by nature.

The Wraith poured a healthy shot of Jameson’s, ready to down it in a single gulp, just to shut up the circus music in her head. Then, with great control, she took a single – albeit decent – sip and set the glass on the counter, promising to return to finish it.

She stared out at her city, wondering what Guy was up to tonight. Then she chased that thought away. No use wasting any more energy on something she was never going to have. The universe, the powers-that-be, their own fears of what could be all seemed to conspire against their ever being together and she had to accept that. It was too distracting to think that there was a future there of anything more than just a deep, special friendship. She knew it would break her heart the first time she saw him with another woman but it was something that she would have to face. Superheroes never get the... well, in this case... get the guy. They are always doomed to loneliness.

Such cheery thoughts tonight, she said to herself. Waiting was never her long suit.

She paced the perimeter once more, watching as the night grew short and the morning threatened to take over the day. She knew she should sleep but the thrumming of her nerves wouldn’t allow it. Even the whiskey didn’t take the edge off.

Something’s coming, she thought as she finally headed into her bedroom. Something most definitely is coming. Don’t know exactly what it is but I can feel it. She took off her 501’s and traded her man’s shirt for her Nick and Nora’s. Okay, superheroes do occasionally wear pajamas.

As the dark night sky gradually gave over to the beginnings of the sun, the Wraith finally began to feel the fingers of sleep crawling over her. As the traffic noise lulled her to sleep, her last thought was of Guy, because she simply couldn’t help herself, and a single tear sank into her pillow, lost, as was she.