The first thing I notice upon waking is a splitting pain in my head. It feels like the two hemispheres of my brain are pulling in opposite directions while also trying to eat each other. It’s not unlike the headache I get from using my powers for too long, but somehow More.

The second thing I notice is the four glowing blue walls boxing me in, trapping me in a 10 foot by 10 foot square cell. Thankfully the floor and ceiling aren’t like that, they both look like solid sheets of polished stone, flecks in the black glittering stars in the night sky with the way they catch the light from the walls. I think the walls are see-through with how they glow brighter around the edges, but beyond them is pitch black so I can’t be certain. No natural light at alll… Sun or moon… I think. I start to get closer to one of the walls to investigate, though before I get very close I hear the crackling and hum of energy seemingly coming from the walls themselves.

“What in the world…?” I wonder aloud, reaching out to see what would happen if I touched the wall.

That’s when I notice the cuff.

About 3 inches wide and made of metal, it’s surprisingly light; I can barely feel the weight of it on my wrist. It’s hard to tell if the metal is actually blue or just reflecting light from the walls, but there’s also a thin line around the middle of the cuff that’s definitely glowing with a soft blue light for some reason. The thing must be some kind of tech, but for what purpose? There’s no hooks or anything to connect to, either on the cuff or the walls, so maybe it’s got some magnet thing? I shift my other hand to a sharp claw to try and dissect it, but I pause and look over when I feel a strange wave go through it.

There’s another cuff on that wrist too. And try as I might, I can’t seem to shift my body.

Power-suppressing cuffs. I’d heard the SCPD got some recently, but I always pictured them being… bulkier, I guess? These don’t even have a visible seam, and there’s no way the cops would use a cell this big or this high tech, especially on someone like me.

“Where the hell am I…?” I wonder aloud.

“About half a mile underground beneath a remote cabin secluded in the mountains west of Sound City,” a voice explains, and I whirl around in surprise. It’s still dark outside the cell, but even without cat ears I can tell the voice came from my left. I can’t see through the dark so I’m just staring at where I think the speaker likely is, and thankfully the outer room lights come on a few seconds later, showing I wasn’t that far off.

A woman swivels in an office chair to face me, and my brain pauses for a second. She’s pretty. Like, really pretty. So pretty that if it weren’t for the stupid power suppressing cuffs, I would immediately be shifting to look exactly like her to add to my repertoire. I could get so many free drinks looking like that. From guys and girls alike.

Wearing a black and white dress, she’s got straight blonde hair that goes just below her shoulders and brown eyes that radiate comfort, even if I’m trapped in a cell. Her dress doesn’t look like any kind of superhero or villain uniform, so she’s probably an underling of some kind, but she also just told me (roughly, admittedly) where I’m being kept, meaning she must have some authority. Her voice didn’t sound like the one from the museum, so I assume there’s someone else somewhere but whether they work under her or she works under them, I can’t tell. Although truthfully, I wouldn’t mind being under– no, bad Melanie! Not now, you’ve got bigger fish to fry.

“So… who are you?” I ask. 

“I could ask you the same thing, Catnip,” the woman fires back, her face a mix of a smirk and interest. “We’ve run fingerprints, DNA, facial recognition, but nothing returned a match. Or rather I should say they do return matches, but only with evidence found at Catnip robberies. So we know you’re Catnip, but we don’t know who you are. So, care to help a girl out and tell us your name?”

“I asked first,” I say simply, and she rolls her eyes.

“That you did,” she admits, “but you’re also in a cell and have no power in this debate. So. Name?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” I wink. I have no intention of actually telling her, but maybe we can get a rapport going. It’s unlikely (but not impossible) that I can convince her to let me out once we start talking.

“I’m not doing that,” she laughs, and I cock my head in surprise. Interesting. I wasn’t expecting her full legal name or anything, but at least a first name. Something to address her. But for her to dismiss the idea outright…

“And why not? The police looking for you too?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“But then how am I supposed to address you?” I ask. “Just ‘hey, you’? If this is an interrogation, you’re doing an exceptionally bad job of being Good Cop.”

“And who said anything about Good Cop?” she fires back. I watch as she rolls her chair over to a desk and pushes a few keys on a keyboard. “Cuffs, magnetize, Wall 1,” she says, and I don’t have time to wonder what that means.

A fraction of a second after she says those words, I feel a force begin to tug at my wrists and ankles. Oh there’s more cuffs on my legs too, I think as I feel my entire body being pulled backwards. I take a step forward to counter it, but the force increases exponentially and my feet leave the ground as I fly to the back wall of the cell. My back hits the energy/force field hard and I groan, but when I try to move an arm to rub the impact site I find that the cuffs hold my limbs in place securely, I can’t move them at all.

“Owww…” I moan, and my captor smiles with not-quite-sadistic glee.

“Are you ready to tell me your name now?” she asks, sickly sweet.

“Go fuck yourself,” I manage through gritted teeth. I can’t tell if the cuffs are suppressing the accelerated healing aspect of my powers or not, but I doubt that hitting the wall caused much lasting damage for it to heal, it’s just painful. She doesn’t seem to like my answer though, again typing at her keyboard.

“Cuffs, magnetize, Wall 4,” she says, and I briefly wonder which side wall that is, before I’m pulled away from the back wall. Except contrary to my beliefs, I’m suddenly thrust forward, toward the front wall. I barely have time to turn my head so my face doesn’t get smashed before I make contact with the crackling energy, but once I “land” the wind is knocked out of me. All these hits certainly aren’t helping my headache, and my vision swims as I try to focus. “So. What’s. Your. Name?” the woman asks, and I grimace.

I mean, it’s not like my name is recorded anywhere legally, so what could it hurt telling her…? No, I can’t give in that easily. It’ll take more than a little pain to break me, I think with a grimace. “Selina.” I say, and she types that in. When she looks up at me again, I give her the rest. “Selina Kyle.”

She types the surname in, and for a moment I think I’ve won.

Just a singular moment.

“That’s not your name,” she says, almost looking embarrassed that she fell for it. “That’s– that’s not your actual name,” she repeats. “That’s Catwoman’s name. Like from comic books.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who fell for it, so what does that say about you?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn’t,” she protests, “I didn’t hit enter.” Damn. Better luck next time.

“All right, all right, you got me,” I admit, showing my palms (as best I can) in surrender. “My real name is Diana Prince.”

“That’s Wonder Woman,” she counters.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

“Black Widow!”

“Pamela Isley.”

“Poison Ivy!”

“Carol Danvers.”

“Captain Marvel!”

“Harleen Quinzel.”

“Harley Quinn!”

“Oh, who’s that new Green Lantern chick, the Hispanic one?”

“You’re not even trying to fool me anymore,” she accuses, and I shrug, smiling.

“Not really, no. But we were having fun, weren’t we?” I ask, to which she only rolls her eyes again. Anything to keep my mind off the fact I’m stuck to a wall in a cell. And maybe make a pretty girl laugh.

“That’s enough, you two,” a woman’s voice says, and I look up to see a set of doors sliding shut behind a figure clad almost entirely in gold and white spandex and leather. She’s tall, blonde, and a figure I recognize all too easily.

Aurora, Sound City’s most famous hero and golden girl.

Finally. Now I know who’s got me.

“De-magnetize her,” Aurora commands, and I sigh in relief as her underling types into her computer. As the cuffs detach from the wall a moment later, first I stumble to the ground, but when I recover I slowly back away.

“You can’t keep me here, Aurora,” I accuse, pointing my finger at her. “I know my rights! You have 48 hours to either turn me over to the police or let me go.” I do my best to sound confident, but inside I’m panicking. What could Aurora want with me? And how did she know I was going to hit the museum tonight? I didn't even know until this morning!

“I’m well aware,” Aurora answers as she strides forward. “And you’ve already spent nearly five of those hours asleep. I–”

“‘Asleep’ is a bit of a stretch, don’tcha think?” I interrupt, “You knocked me out! I’ve never hurt anybody, I’m not a violent offender, and this is how you treat me??”

“‘Never hurt anybody’?!” Aurora exclaims, incredulous. “Tell that to the two officers you put in the hospital last month!”

“Oh please, cops aren’t people,” I say, and the other woman snorts back a laugh before receiving a glare from Aurora. “And they were the ones who decided to open fire while standing in a pool of gasoline. They could’ve killed me, so I think they deserve whatever injuries they got from their actions.”

“That may be your view, but it’s not how the boys in blue see it,” Aurora calmly explains, “They think you’re responsible, and cops–”

“Protect their own,” I finish, my eyes widening in mounting horror. Yeah I was technically the reason they got burned, I nicked the fuel lines of their car, but I didn’t think they’d put two and two together. I wasn’t expecting for them to just cross out the whole equation and pick the number 4 out of a hat. “Oh, fuck. The whole force is gunning for me, aren’t they?”

“More or less,” she confirms with a smirk, and I curse again. I can’t see her eyes, they’re simply twin wells of white light, but I just know they’re twinkling with sinister amusement. “But you can see how it might be in your best interests to cooperate with me, and at least delay being turned over to them, right?”

“Yeah yeah, I… I hear you,” I say. Am I hearing things right? Did Aurora just threaten me? I thought she was supposed to be the city’s best. My last time in police custody was quite literally the worst time of my life, since my powers developed shortly afterward, so I’m far from eager to repeat the experience. But what’s her game? I think. She caught me red handed, she’ll never let me go, so she’s just going to threaten me with police brutality? It doesn’t make sense.

“Good,” she nods, before turning to her underling. “Did she give you a name?”

“Several, but they’re all secret identities for fictional superheroes.”

“Run them anyway,” Aurora commands, “her parents might be nerds who think they’re funny. Then get some sleep, it’s almost 3:30.”

“Yes ma’am,” the other woman responds to the superhero’s already retreating figure. She briefly glances at me before turning back to her computer and typing away at the keyboard. After a few minutes (and several error noises indicating zero matches), she shakes her head and stands from the chair. “Goodnight, Catnip,” she calls, and that stirs me from staring off into space.

“What, you’re just leaving me?” I ask, and she just shrugs. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re a cat, right? Curl up in a corner and get some sleep yourself,” she tells me, just before reaching the doors. “Goodnight,” she says again, and no sooner have the doors closed behind her than the area outside my cell is once again plunged into darkness.