Marla Drake - InkSpot.Com

About This Author

I am a 40 year old married mother of two teenage boys. I live for writing, especially romance. Love the happily ever after scenerio. The best thing about writing for me is the ability to lose yourself in your work, and feel as if you've accomplished something great. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

Marla Drake

Marla Drake grabbed the Black Panther suit and held it against her slim figure before the mirror, frowning. It was a good thing the fabric stretched because it looked at least two sizes too small.

She sighed as thoughts of her line of work—dealing with the world's dirtbags—took their toll on her. Seeing how far humanity would fall because the world put people into categories was disheartening. The have's and have-nots, she mused.

She was tired.

Tired of fighting crime.

Tired of donning the skin-tight outfit to gain strength and speed.

And damn tired of the animosity between Gary and Dan.

Nothing could irritate her more than when those two started throwing barbs at one another as if they held some claim over her.

Dan was at his breaking point trying to find the person responsible for a string of break-ins, and her ex-fiance, Gary, loved to remind him that the culprit was still on the loose. The mud-slinging had gotten under her skin and festered like flesh-eating bacteria. She decided the bickering would end only when she found the perp and delivered him to Detective Dan Carey herself. Gary wouldn't need to know the details.

Shimming out of her dress, she grabbed the suit and sulked to the edge of the bed. She slipped her feet into the form-fitting legs, stood, and tugged the leather up thighs, torso, and over her chest before slipping her arms into the sleek black suit. Zipping up the back, a zing of power radiated through her body, pulsing with every beat of her heart. Although she loved being able to blend into the darkness, she always found this outfit needed a more feminine kick.

She moved to her closet and located the box that held her secret weapon, which took this costume to the next level and made her feel like a real superhero.

Adding the cape gave her a good feeling about doing this superhero gig. Though no one knew who she was, she did, and that was all that mattered.

Marla attached the accessory and smiled at her transformation in the mirror. As she spun around, her blood-red cape floated behind her.

"Perfect!" she said, satisfaction coursing through her veins.

Now, she was ready to conquer the night, put the robberies to an end, and make the men in her life shut the hell up once and for all. At least she hoped this would squelch some of the animosity brewing to a boiling point.

She left the confines of her apartment, heading to the danger zone and to the wealthy neighborhood where the last three robberies occurred, taking a chance that his particular thief had been encouraged to try once again. Nothing would please her more than catching this perp red-handed.

Crouching in the shadows at the neighborhood's edge, she noticed Dan's police cruiser heading down the dark street.

He didn't know her true identity, and she hoped things wouldn't get dicey tonight.

Taking a deep breath, Marla ran her hands down the edges of the cape; she gathered the material in her hands, excitement dancing through her.

"Time to go to work," she whispered, a smile on her red lips as she raced past the police cruiser. "If Dan only knew."

Prompt: 7/26 "The Writer's Cramp"

by SophyBells

As she spun around, her blood-red cape floated behind her.

WC: 542

InkSpot.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.