A/N: This is a reworking of my old story 'The Crownless Kings', told from a different POV. Honestly, it's completely different other than the characters and their relationships. I hope you enjoy it.
Crimson didn't frequent the Beatdown, everyone there was surprised to see her. Then they tried to conceal their excitement, because they knew what she did to people who asked her if she really was Crimson.
She was a legend.
Rumors always flew about her, that she was one of the Kings' kids, that she was an android, that she was secretly a man…you name it, it was said about her.
Everyone knew she had something to do with the Kings. Some said that a decade ago she emerged from the scene of their unfortunate demise with a smile on her face and one of their masks dangling from her hand, a six year old murderer.
Others thought that was absurd. A six year old could never kill a King. They think that EPD took her in, and that the Kings rescued her. That they died rescuing her.
People hated her for that.
The Kings were their saviors. Their deaths were devastating for everyone. And all they knew was that Crimson was involved.
She was the anti-Christ, as far as they were concerned.
But some believed that she was a bit better than that. Some thought that maybe she tried to save the Kings. Some said that after one of them fell she took his gun and started blasting everything in range. That she managed to protect one of them as he died.
Then she somehow got out and ended up trying to take the Kings' place as the common people's patron saint.
Their guardian angel.
And somehow, everyone knew about her affiliation with the Kings, and everyone started talking about her.
And she became a celebrity, but never a saint.
People feared her too much, were too skeptical about what she did to the Kings.
She was never really trusted.
So when she slammed in the doors of the Beatdown, sunglasses on and hair pulled back, everyone's sixteen-year-old drama queen, people started whispering.
She leaned on the bar, not sitting, never sitting. Had to be on her feet, just like the Kings. Just like them. People noticed and they started talking about if she were a King's daughter, whose she would be. Most said Purgatory, her drama (and looks, to be honest) reflected his. Some said Victory, the Judas, the betrayer. The ones who believed that were the ones who believed she had something to do with their deaths.
No one said Detonation, Crimson never looked preoccupied like him. Never looked like she belonged somewhere else.
Very few said Animal, she didn't have poise like him, couldn't always land on her feet. She never prayed for dead people like him.
She heard some of the whispers and snorted at them, before telling the bartender she needed a shot of vodka, and stat.
No one questioned her age. They all knew exactly how old she was. And they also knew that if she didn't get what she wanted she would kill everyone.
So she was given what she wanted.
She slammed it back pretty quickly, staring up at one of the old TV screens on the right side of the bar. It seemed to not interest her, and she looked around.
Her eyes lingered on a few people, but not for very long. She ordered another shot, took it, and looked back up at the screens.
It was an EPD broadcast, their typical propaganda-tastic bullshit, talking about how if anyone submitted themselves they would be spared and maybe even treated normally.
But if they didn't submit, y'know, they would be killed. Crimson looked amused at this whole thing until…
"We have new weapons. Something that none of you savages could dream of. We have learned how to raise the dead."
Everyone stopped whispering and stared at the screens, dead silent. Crimson's eyes were widening and she dropped the shotglass she had been holding, backing away from the screen like it was going to attack her.
"We have resurrected your precious 'Kings'," the screen said.
Everybody immediately stared at Crimson again. She was mouthing the word 'no' over and over, backing farther and farther away from the screen until she was pressed up against the wall next to the door, eyes wide and dilated in horror, fixated on the broadcast.
And it showed them.
The Kings—the first time in ten years anyone had seen them. But they looked…
They still were the same people, Animal standing taller than the rest, eyes darting from one side of the camera to the other, his hand around Detonation's shoulder.
Purgatory rolling his eyes and licking his lips, hand somewhere on Victory's butt.
But it wasn't them, a blind person could see that, because their eyes were dead. There was none of the spark that made them heroes to all.
Where there used to be fire there was just…nothing.
And Crimson ran outside, everyone's eyes following her as she vomited in the dirt outside the bar.
Then she scrambled to her feet and started running, the words 'and they're coming for you' following after until she couldn't hear anymore.
A/N: Feedback is appreciated!