[ WP ] You have the ability to perfectly impersonate anyone , becoming them basically . You start mimicking somebody famous , only to realize they 're not who everyone thinks they are .

A rash of disappearances of celebrities and public figures had plagued the world after I discovered my ability. Sometimes I made them disappear according to my own morals, and sometimes I made them disappear because I felt more comfortable as that person for a while. I was so good that I even mimicked their injuries, or even disabilities, perfectly. The knowledge just came to me naturally. Best of all, nobody expected to be murdered by, well... themselves. 
 
 I had picked this person for a challenge; something to keep me entertained. Even superheroes must get bored of their own powers every now and then. Stretching my dainty and arthritis-stricken arms out, I picked a teacup from the table, and lifted it to my wrinkled lips. A radio filled the room with the soft conversation on British Public Radio. After tea, I stood and started toward the restroom. I suppose an old woman like this would probably have stuff run right through her, huh? My body seemed to move in autopilot as it always did, naturally following the real person's routines and actions. Before I stepped into the restroom, though, I took a sharp turn and into a side room. I had n't been in here yet. It was dark, and there were no light fixtures in here, just candles. The hands I wore reached for a box of matches, and lit the candles. Only then did I realize - I stood in the center of a pentagram drawn in chalk. Grabbing a dagger which was decorated with designs of hellish creatures, I drew it across my left palm, and then lifted it. Blood dripped from my wrinkled hand, onto the floor. I released an ungodly shriek, the room lighting up with colors beyond my comprehension, a heat which instantly began to force sweat from my aged body. A being appeared before me; it shifted its appearance almost constantly. Hundreds of yellow eyes turned to faces whose expressions were that of agony. Rotting flesh seeming to pulse with the thing's breath. A tongue with hundreds of needle-like teeth protruding from it flicked from the maw that formed near the top of it, shredding the lumpy flesh around it. The scent of rot filled my nostrils, far worse than anything I had ever smelled; the old woman stood firm. The terror before me spoke, voice sharp and high, a feeling akin to razors tearing through my ears. 
 
 `` Hello again, Elizabeth!''
