ORIGINS, Blitz

“A sermon should be like a woman’s skirt. Long enough to cover the essentials but short enough to keep your attention!” The congregation laughed at the Baptist preacher as his smile showed off his perfectly bleached white teeth.

Four year old Esmerelda Blitzenburg leaned over to her mom. “The preacher is pretending, mommy.”

“Don’t say such things!” her mother scolded. “This man is a man of the Lord! Be quiet and listen!”

The girl shrugged. “Hell is for bad people and liars, right mommy?”

Her mother looked at her with confusion. “That’s right dear.”

“Then this preacher will burn hot and hard in hell someday.” The little girl wasn’t vindictive. She spoke as if she were reciting from a dictionary. “I wonder what he’s hiding?” Even at four years old, her intuition was always on the mark. The mother said nothing but instead gave her daughter big eyes, as if to warn not to say anything further.

Later that afternoon, Esmerelda was playing with some toys in her room. On the tv out in the living room, she heard a news broadcaster announce police detectives had arrested the preacher for being involved in a prostitution ring. She pictured a ring that could fit on her finger, but knew it must be a bad kind of ring if the police were involved.

A year later, the little girl found herself alone in front of that same television. She was trying to find cartoons when a hunting show came on. It was an exciting moment in the show, right before the hunter was going to pull the trigger. Esmerelda froze and listened to the hunter as he whispered to the camera. She noticed every detail. How he held the gun, how he breathed in a calm and quiet manner, she soaked in everything. Her father came into the room and asked her, “do you want to go hunting when you’re older?”

She turned to him and simply said, “yes.”

A year later, she couldn’t sleep one night. She turned on that same television and watched something called stand up comedy. The comedians used words that her parents didn’t use or approve of. The crowd laughed a lot, and even though Esmerelda didn’t know what they were talking about most of the time, she laughed too. Every time she couldn’t sleep she’d watch stand up comedy. It became a normal midnight thing for her.

A year later, Esmerelda was on the playground after school playing with a friend as a bully walked up. The boy took the doll from her friend and held it up above her head, taunting her. In that moment, she felt a calm fire take over inside of her that she’d never felt before.

“I’m going to kick you so hard that your nuts will be in your throat, asshole.” Seven year old Esmerelda Blitzenburg spoke with her high pitched voice in a slow, cold, calculated tone. “So you must ask yourself right now, do you want to keep your testicles, or lose them?” She’d never said any of those words ever before, nor had she ever threatened anyone ever, but it was as natural in that moment to her as breathing.

The fourteen year old bully looked at her and laughed. “Bring it on, pip squeak.”

Esmerelda looked down at her crying friend. As the tears and snot ran down her reddened face, the fury burned inside little Esmerelda like it never had before. She looked up at the boy and said, “hell awaits.”

In the distance, a hammer struck a bell loudly announcing the time.

In the flash of an eye, she reached both hands into her pants pockets and pulled out a quarter in each hand. She lunged and flung the coins at the boys face. She was so lightning fast that he barely had time to close his eyes before the quarters hit them, hard. The boy started to crumple but before he’d even hit the ground, her foot connected to his crotch with the force of a professional fighter. He couldn’t even double over before she’d given him an uppercut to the throat.

She turned around to look at her friend before the boy had fully fallen to the ground. “This isn’t your fault.” The boy fell with a big OOMF as she continued in a reassuring, soft tone. “This jerk brought this upon himself, never forget that.” Esmerelda was remarkably calm and hyper aware of everything surrounding them. Her protective instincts knew that even though one threat was done with, the new threat was that her friend would be traumatized from what she’d seen. “You’re the good guy here, and bad guys get what they deserve.”

Years later, nineteen year old Esmerelda was in a Florida bar on spring break. She wore a tiny bikini that showed off her powerful, sexy physique. A lifetime of martial arts training, competitive track and hunting every fall had carved her into a modern day female warrior. Even though she was laughing, her instincts told her something was amiss.

The crowd of college aged spring breakers yelled, “shots, shots, shots!” as she easily tossed back a shot glass full of colorful liquid. In that moment, a boy close by grabbed the phone of a random girl and held it up above her head. “Hey, that’s my phone!” the girl yelled. “Give it back!”

The memory of her very first fight came flooding back in that alcohol fueled moment. Not a second had passed before she’d blasted the boy hard in the lower back. As he dropped to his knees, she gracefully swiped the phone from his falling hands, then kneed him hard in the back of his head. The whole scene was over as quickly as it had began.

The only witness was the girl who’s phone had been taken. She looked at Esmerelda with huge eyes as if she didn’t believe what she’d just seen.

“This guy has had too much to drink, don’t you think?!” she said with grand enthusiasm in an attempt to diffuse the situation. She happily put her arm quickly around the worried girl and pretended to be in a good mood, partying hard. “Let’s do a shot!” The girl didn’t have time to process what was going on before both women were throwing down a colorful sugar filled ounce of rocket fuel.

“I need to use the ladies room! Let’s do another shot later, ok? You’re awesome!” she said with a fake drunk girl bravado. Esmerelda turned and walked away too quickly before the girl could say anything. A small crowd was gathering around the fallen boy but she side stepped everyone.

As she weaved through the crazy crowd to get to a clearing, a man wearing a long black leather trench coat appeared in front of her. He wore an old school hat like he was a private eye from a 1930’s movie. She was surprised to hear a clear, normal voice out of him. “That boy deserved what he got, you and I both know that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. How had he seen her punch him through that crazy crowd of drunks? “And what kind of creep wears a fucking trench coat in ninety degree weather? What is this, the 1930’s? No wait, are you gonna flash me?!”

The man laughed. “Well played. The outfit is just what I do, so forgive me. No, I’m not gonna flash you, and yes, you do know what I’m talking about. You’re not like the rest of these people. You’re a wolf among sheep, and you know it.”

Esmerelda should’ve been creeped out, but she was finally hearing the words that had been bouncing around her head her whole life. She wasn’t normal. She wanted to fit in, but she never felt like she was a regular girl.

The man continued. “You don’t fit in because you see how good people get hurt, and you’re one of the few people who can fight back, clearly. Sadly I know first hand that there are a lot of other bad people out there who deserve more than just a punch to the kidneys.” He reached into his trench coat and pulled out an envelope with five grand in cash. “My name is Speck Arnold, and I’m offering you a job. You any good with a gun?”

Esmerelda laughed. “I’ve been known to kill my dinner now and again, yeah,” she joked. “I’m Esmerelda Blitzenburg.”

Now it was Speck’s turn to laugh. “You’re accusing me of being from the 1930’s but your real name is Esmerelda? Ha! From now on, you’re Emerald Blitz.” He looked sternly at her, “no, that’s not the name of a stripper I dated, or whatever bullshit thought is going through your mind, and no, you’re not allowed to use your real name ever again unless you’re with your family. Got that, Emerald?”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded. He finished, “good. Your high level weapons training starts next week. All the information is on a card in this envelope. See you in D.C.” With that, he turned and walked away, blending into the crowd before somehow just kind of disappearing.

“Hell awaits,” she muttered to herself. With that, nineteen year old Emerald Blitz disappeared from the crowd and started walking towards her destiny.