“No sir, we don't have it in that colour,” Amanda said in her calmest tone. “If you’d like I can search for it in other stores and see if they have stock-“
“No, forget it.” The grumpy old man said, waltzing away from the costume section.
He muttered something about today's youth as he waved her off. The old codger was probably just going to find another worker and badger them until he got an answer he got an answer he wanted. Obviously that wouldn’t happen, but the thick skulls of retail customers never seemed to allow that simple concept in.
If Amanda said they didn’t have something in store, she wasn’t trying to hide it from people. The administration managing inventory was just shit at their jobs.
Don’t let it get to you. She sighed inwardly as she began to stock the shelves again. People were just people and sometimes they were lousy, especially when there was no punishment for it.
In those times she tried to just drift off and think about all the good things her job got her. Discounts, free food at the built-in Vicburger, money to go to conventions as see her celebrities crushes because there was zero chance her parents were paying for that.
Apparently, if her free time wasn’t devoted to studying for university it was beneath her parent's notice.
They were lousy people more often than not.
“Excuse me?” A voice called, pulling Amanda out of her thoughts.
She snapped her head in the owner's direction before she could think to not look like she wanted to kill someone.
“Ahhhhh… I can go find someone else if you’re busy.” The tall blonde man offered, slowly his trolley away.
“No! It’s fine.” Amanda said, putting a death grip on his trolley so he couldn’t escape. Too many disappointed customers meant another write-up, which meant she’d have to talk to Nathan. No one liked Nathan. “What can I help you with?”
The tall blonde looked hesitant to accept her offer before eventually giving it. “I need a mask, preferably one that covers the whole face.”
It was a strange request considering that Halloween wasn’t close by but who was she to judge? People made strange requests sometimes and the best thing to do was just go with the flow. So long as it didn’t break store policy it wasn’t her problem.
“Going to a costume party or something?” She said, making small talk as she led him to the lines of masks in a separate row.
“Something like that.” He nodded, inspecting the masks.
Her eyes, trying not to stare at that jawline, wandered towards the man’s trolley he perused through the wall of masks occasionally mumbling to himself.
The comics weren’t that strange, nor the black windbreaker. Standard shopping things. But it got weird when she noticed the cans of pepper spray, balaclava, handcuffs and a concerning amount of thick rope. There were also chains bundled inside a plastic bin that had a 2-litre water bottle and a bedsheet.
What concerned her the most was the sheer amount of forty per cent proof alcohol bottles stacked next to a dozen rags and a box of matches.
Huh… must be a weird party. She could think of a handful of reasons that one would buy that colourful combination of items, and frankly, Amanda didn’t want to be involved. Not her peanuts, not her monkeys.
“Hey… you mind if I ask you a weird question.” The tall, blonde, possible kidnapper with a killer jawline asked, spooking her.
Her mind blanked for a moment before her customer service instinct kicked in.
“Of course,” Amanda said with a cheery smile.
He held up two masks. One was an oni mask, with a black base, red horns and sharp white teeth. If Amanda remembered correctly it was meant to represent a demon. The other was a masquerade mask that covered just the eyes, with a black base and flowery silver accents.
“Which of these would look better on me?” He asked, flashing a smile.
So, are the choices horror movies or romance movies that turn into horror? She thought, pointing a finger at the masquerade mask.
“Thanks.” He said, putting the oni mask back on the wall and throwing the masquerade mask in his cart.
The man strolled away, rolling his cart down the aisle and leaving Amanda feeling very conflicted about what had just happened. She looked at the cameras recording them above, then at the blonde hair fading into the horde of people in the store, then back at the masquerade masks she’d stacked on the wall.
It probably wasn’t a big deal.
She probably shouldn’t bother going to her manager to ensure they’d gotten a recording of that jawline.
It was just a fleeting question in her mind that made her unsure.
A silly, completely baseless question…
…Did I just help a serial killer?
***********
I hate last-minute jobs. Jeremy groaned, spying on his target through a prodigy-tech scope he’d picked up from the black market. His feet tapped against his car seat as he waited patiently for his target to exit the recreational centre in the shady part of town. It was a nervous tick he’d picked up after a job gone bad.
He hated sitting still. Jeremy was too open, too prone to attack. It might sound paranoid but during his career as a pseudo-supervillain for hire he’d picked up some real enemies and some of them were mean pieces of shit that wouldn’t mind cutting off a few of his fingers to send a message.
“And today on Ways of the Future we have Mr Magic showing off his new Anti-Swarm technology, now Mr Magic will you tell us how this weapon thwarts those vicious hungry bug-”
Nope. Jeremy thought, switching off the radio. He did not need to hear about the Swarm. Not when he was focusing on a job. Growing up a survivor of the outside made it pretty hard not to break into a cold sweat every time you heard about those things. It wasn’t something he needed to worry about anymore.
He tried not to think about it. To recall the sights. Instead, he focused on the sweet smell of cinnamon coming from his bakery delights, then on the sample picture of his target. Generally, the street villain fixer Puck didn’t do last-minute jobs. But after how well the last one had paid, Puck otherwise known as Jeremy had decided that maybe it was a venture worth investing in.
Regardless of how sketchy the last one had been. Good money like that was getting harder and harder to come by for Jeremy, mainly because most of his contacts only ever offered him risky shit he wouldn’t do. As morally reprehensive as some might see it, Jeremy much preferred beating the breaks off some Normie than trying to rob a Prodigy base of operations or kidnap a supervillain's daughter.
Jeremy didn’t feel guilt for what he did, because he felt the world needed people like him. In some strange and twisted way.
“How long is this granny going to take.” He mumbled, looking at the darkening sky.
The elderly lady, Joanna Sky, had become his target through an extreme amount of money from someone high enough up the chain that Jeremy didn’t get a name. That happened sometimes. While he considered himself a Fixer, he was still technically just hired muscle. But he was learning every day. Making connections, building a resume, and showing diligence.
Soon he wouldn’t need Crypt.
Soon he’d be fully independent.
Movement caught Jeremy's eyes, stealing his focus. An old lady who looked exactly like Joanna was shuffling her way down the street to her car. For an older lady, she had a nice ride. Not a prodigy-tech vehicle, but a classic Mustang like the one Finite used to drive in comic books. Jeremy switched the keys in the ignition, following her as she slowly drove away.
He always made sure to stay at least five car lengths behind. It was easier that way, to keep out of sight. From the information he’d been given, she lived in the shady side of town right around where his last job had been. The part of town big-time Supes paid to keep cop-free so smaller-time Supes could get their fill.
Someone like him didn’t have the money to bail himself out of getting Cuffed if he got caught.
And I’d rather die than go back outside. He shivered just thinking about the world outside the miracle of creation that surrounded Venus City. It was funny how much of a parallel the city painted to the outside world. All flashy neon billboards plastered across skyscrapers all over the centre, petering out into suburban normality and the occasional Supe-infested area. All of it was so bliss, even in the chaos, that one might forget the horror that waited outside.
Jermey did not forget.
Jermey could never forget.
The Supe shook his head, ridding himself of those thoughts as he glanced at the baseball bat sitting in his passenger seat along with the hockey mask.
His target pulled into her home driveway and Jermey slowed, parking his car next to a park that ran opposite to it. The park was almost empty as night drew nearer and it gave him ample vision of the quaint two-story dollhouse Joanna lived in. There was no reason for anyone to find his car suspicious and he’d had his windshield fitted with a prodigy-tech tint that fizzled facial features to cameras and memory alike. No one would know a thing.
After about thirty minutes of surveillance Jeremy was pretty confident Joanna didn’t have any pets, cameras or any security beyond a couple of locks that were not super strength proof, which was a bit odd in a way because the rest of her neighbours had what he had come to expect as normal. Cameras, prodigy-hounds, hell one seemed to have an automated turret.
Could just be because she's old. Old people had a tendency to forget they lived in a super world, but that still struck him as strange. Something was off but Jeremy couldn’t put his finger on it so he just read over Joanna’s information packet again. She seemed like a pretty normal old lady, with an obsession for bingo and a bucketload of money left over from a long cheapskate life. Maybe that was why the security was so lax.
I wonder if I could find that money. From his experience, the older you got, the less you trusted the infrastructure of the world around you, leading to certain behaviours, like taking out a large portion of your savings in cash and storing it in your walls. Easy picking for one such as himself.
Jeremy tapped his feet against the pedal, waiting for night to fully swallow any hesitation he had. When the darkness arrived and presented him with the perfect opportunity, the supervillain couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Not wanting to get cold feet, Jermey pulled himself out of the car and donned his hockey mask, ensuring the weightlifting belt he kept around his waist was tightly fitted as well.
Instantly his body felt stronger, nimbler, colder and much, much more aggressive as his power kicked into effect. Sport Spirit, the name he’d eventually settled on for his power, was quite simple. Whatever sports gear he was wearing, he gained power relating to.
If he wore Jordans, he could jump over buildings. If he wore track shoes, he could run at full sprint for hours without breaking a sweat. And if he wore boxing gloves nothing happened because for reasons beyond Jeremy’s understanding combat sports were banned by his power.
It was a pretty big caveat to have, although not as annoying as other caveats his unique power possessed.
“Guess that’s what I get for being obsessed with hockey,” Jeremy mumbled, sneaking towards the front door.
A quick click of his Zapper, a handheld small-scale EMP killed the nearest street lights and the TV noises emanating from inside Joanna’s living room. He checked the windows stealthy, finding her absent and came to the conclusion the granny had a problem just gone to sleep. Then he grabbed the door handle and twisted it until the lock snapped, making a fairly loud crunch.
Jeremy waited a moment for any sound or movement in response. Everything in the house was still and silent.
It looked like things would be as things would be as easy as he thought. All he had to do was sneak up to Joanna’s bedroom and give her the fright of her life, then tie her up and loot her house. The basics.
Easy does it. He thought, sneaking into the house and carefully treading on the creaky wood floor. Just a few steps to the staircase and then…
He froze, his eyes snapping to a certain vine lazily hanging from above the stairwell. Quickly he tried to backstep step but-A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Suprise attack!” Someone shouted from above him as he felt something heavy and hard crash into the back of his head.
There was little to no pain but the shock of it made Jeremy unsteady enough to stumble forwards, before he whipped around, swinging his baseball bat indiscriminately at whoever had just hit him. The person who’d dropped from the ceiling barely managed to snake away before his bat crashed down, shattering part of the wooden floor.
Jeremy growled unconsciously in annoyance as woodchip sprayed around him, keeping one eye on the retreating figure and another on that vine that was so out of place. He knew who that vine belonged to, what he didn’t know was who the hell just hit him.
The figure, Jeremy guessed, was a man by his silhouette who wore all black with a windbreaker and a balaclava underneath a fancy mask that exposed his yellow eyes. The man kept a cautious eye on him and a tight grip on his axe which now had a blunted end. On the axes end a small smidge of red dripped eerie.
Jeremy reached to where the man had struck, feeling a small cut and a numb pain at the base of his neck.
He cut me but he was trying to cut my head off. So much for a warning. Luckily the supervillain was used to violence and took it in stride. He needed no words to explain how he felt about being attacked from above midway through a job.
Instead, Jeremy simply lunged at the masked man inhumanly quick. He felt the bat in his hands blend with reality as he tried to take the man's head off like he was smacking a ball on a tee. The man dodged back towards the dining table but he wasn’t nearly quick enough to stop Jeremy.
Unfortunately, that looming vine was, stretching out and restraining Jeremy’s wrist just as he was about to end the man in front of him.
“Straight to trying to kill me?” The man said, huffing a little as he stared at the bat. “You don’t mess around do you Puck.”
Crypt isn’t an amateur, he wouldn’t just give me a crooked job by accident. Jeremy thought, pulling his wrist and testing the vine’s strength. It must’ve been as strong as steel but definitely breakable. This was a set-up. It had to be. There was zero chance that a Fixer with as much experience as Crypt wouldn’t know that he was giving bad information. Which meant it had to be intentional.
He’d been lured here and someone had paid Crypt to do it… or the old bastard had sensed Jeremy's growing desire to become his own Fixer and wanted to take out the competition. Honestly, it was more than likely both. Villain life 101, you were either useful or you were an enemy.
It took him barely a few seconds to consider all his options. Escape was the only way out, but Jeremy knew he wouldn’t be able to just leave. He’d heard about the vines before and he’d knew exactly who they belonged to. A real supervillain. Someone dangerous enough to hold territory in Venus City.
Turf that Jeremy belatedly realised, he was now on. There was no escaping Bloom, especially not in a house she’d prepped full of her flora. There was no fighting either. Which meant the man in front of him was his only option.
I have to take him hostage.
“Who are you?” Jeremy asked, buying time to work through how he’d walk out alive. “One of Bloom’s grunts?”
“Something like that” His attacker answered vaguely. “I don't expect much peacefulness from a dude wearing a hockey mask but you resort to violence incredibly quickly you know.”
“You tried to cut my head off, dude,” Jeremy said.
The man simply shrugged
“I did warn you.”
“By shouting surprise attack?”
“Not my fault you didn’t listen.”
“How important would you say you are to Bloom?” Jeremy asked, gripping his bat tight. The man was right, he was violent. He felt like very violently separating his head from his shoulders. But he couldn’t waste a good hostage.
The man clicked his tongue. “I mean we’re neighbours sooooo…”
Good enough for me. Jeremy thought, pulling as hard as he could on the vine and snapping it off his wrist. He felt a burning sensation coming from the lifting belt strapped around his waist as his power interacted with it, drawing unnatural strength into his limbs. He lunged at the masked man without warning, barely giving the assailant time to react. Jeremy didn’t want to kill his, so he aimed low with his bat. Crushing a shin or two would give him the opportunity he needed.
Unfortunately, more vines shot out from the roof, smashing through the plaster above and wrapping around his limbs. Jeremy powered through them all in one motion, but it gave the man just enough time to roll over the dining table. So Jeremy planted one foot and used his other to kick the dining table into the masked man.
He let out a pained groan as he was shunted back into the wall, trapped between it and the wall. There was a small crunch that sounded like a broken rib, which was music to Jeremy’s ears. The vines were quick, but they weren’t quick enough to stop him.
He rushed towards the table just as the masked man laughed and pulled a can from his windbreaker, spraying something Jeremy accidentally rushed into. The supervillain was momentarily confused, taking a hesitant step back before his eyes started to burn. He blinked and they burned more.
Jeremy grabbed at them, trying to adjust his hockey mask to cover them. It was a futile effort. The burning crawled past his eyes and into his skull, like ants squirming into his head.
“Prodigy pepper spray.” The masked man said with a pained laugh, twirling the can in his hand. “Helluva thing, ain’t it.”
Fuck it.
Screw hostage-taking, he was going to kill this worm and then take his chances with Bloom.
**************
Uh-oh. Luke thought as Puck seemed to take his joke a little too personally, charging at him like a raging gorilla.
Cassandra’s vines sprung up out of the ground and roof slowing him down somewhat while pushing the table forward just enough for Luke to slip through, rolling out of the way. Their arrangement for this whole thing was quite simple, she would help when and if he was about to die, but other than that Luke just wanted her to make the whole thing fairer. Because even with all the tools he’d picked up, there was a fat chance in hell he could take Puck on alone. The man had actual superpowers whereas at the moment Luke was restricted to much more human abilities.
And a much more human constitution, considering the hot pain coming from the side of his torso. Luke tried to ignore it and power through, swinging his axe full force at Puck’s ankles while he tried to overcome the storm of vines slithering through the entire house.
He heard a curse as his axe buried itself in the base of Puck’s foot, barely making a dent and drawing a small amount of blood before a baseball bat came flying down towards his head. Luke fell backwards away from it, employing more of his pepper spray to try and ward off the man.
It didn’t work.
Whatever shock, pain or annoyance that held him back the first time seemed to be ignored by the all-consuming rage that Puck felt.
Well, that’s not good.
“Plan B!” Luke shouted as the inhumanly strong Puck closed in on him.
Luke pushed himself up as a green growth of thick braided vines tore the entire wall apart and swung at Puck wildly, knocking the hired muscle down for a moment. He swatted the next strike away with his baseball bat, causing a sound as loud as a car crash and vibrating the whole house. Luke used the momentary chance to bounce and ran his ass towards his duffle bag of goodies hidden outside by the car.
A couple of Joanna’s, a fake victim people could hire, neighbours had stirred out of their homes but all of them looked surprisingly… calm about what was going on.
“You one of Mrs Sky’s guests?” a middle-aged-looking man in his bathrobe shouted, standing by the letterbox on the other end of the street.
“No, I’m her grandson!” Luke lied, reaching his car and pulling the many bottles packed with gravel from his bag.
“Should I call the cops?” The middle-aged man shouted back.
“Mind your own fucking business!” Luke shouted back.
He could hear the crashing coming from inside the house and the cashier took that as motivation to speed up. Quickly he tossed rags halfway into each bottle, grabbing matches and lighting each end one after the other. The smell thick scent of a burning rag mixed with alcoholic fumes, almost caused his eyes to water as he finished one surprise after the next.
Puck threw himself through the front window, taking brick, plaster and glass with him as he tore through the house in a frenzy. He wasted no time brushing off the rubble and sprinting towards Luke like a dog with rabies. In response, Luke started hurling his impromptu molotovs at the Supe with reckless abandon, hoping to catch him by surprise.
The untrained, frankly unprepared cashier missed his first two throws, splattering hot flaming gravel all over Joanna’s finely mowed lawn. Puck did need to make an effort to dodge them though, slowing down just enough for Luke to nail him with molotov.
The Supe made a pained yelp as shards of flaming gravel exploded towards him, setting Puck ablaze and stopping him in his tracks. For all the endurance his superpowers gave him, he wasn’t immune to thousands of boiling hot pieces of gravel sticking to his skin and being dosed in fire.
Puck rolled on the ground trying to put out the fire as Luke grabbed his pained side with one hand and hefted a gas bottle out of the car Bloom had rented with the other. The thing was heavy, especially so with one hand, but more than that for the briefest of moments Luke felt a little conflicted about what he was about to do.
What he was doing didn’t feel like reality. Luring someone into a house and attacking them with an axe was not what he usually did on his sick days. In some way, it felt wrong. This wasn’t his life, these weren’t the things he did. Until a day ago, he was just a regular person.
And now…
[Deadline: 5:10:43]
Things were different. Maybe he would regret it later. Maybe this whole thing would be a little too much for him at some point. But at that moment, Luke felt like being a supervillain was exactly what he needed.
It was fun.
It was freedom.
It was heaving a gas bottle above his head and slamming it back into Puck’s head, who was far too distracted with being on fire to react in time. The gas bottle made a doink sound as it banged against his head. Puck somehow pulled the willpower together through the pain to grab at Luke’s ankle but was restrained by more vines that sprung from the ground. They coiled around his body and restrained him completely.
Allowing Luke the right every good villain deserved.
The freedom to monologue.
“Puck, Ima give you two options. You can either tell me how your power works so I can restrain you…” Luke said, kneeling down the same way Puck had once done in front of him. “...or I can beat you unconscious with this gas bottle.”
He was originally planning on pouring gasoline on Puck if the Molotovs didn’t slow him down, but now that seemed a little much. Even for a psycho piece of shit like Puck.
Maybe it’s that’s still a good idea.
“I’ll…” Puck started with a pained groan, spitting out glowing red gravel. The fire didn’t seem to be killing him, but it looked like it hurt. A lot. “...kill you both.”
Then Puck spat at his feet. It was quite a familiar sight, and very satisfying for Luke to be on the other side. He patted the supervillain on the shoulder, smiling behind his balaclava.
“That’s the spirit,” Luke said, hefting the gas bottle above his head again.
Before Puck could say another threat or curse at him Luke slammed it on his head as hard as he could. A pained sound escaped Puck’s mouth. A sound that only someone who was still conscious could make. So Luke raised the gas bottle up again. Then again, then again until on the fifth time with a bloody welt on the back of his head, the Supe finally went silent.
Luke breathed a sigh of relief now step one of his revenge was done, collapsing against the rented car. Sweat was clinging to all the tight black clothing he was wearing and the balaclava was much more stuffy than he had anticipated it being. His side was in more and more pain as the adrenaline slowly left him, giving Luke a pretty clear view of where he stood compared to Puck.
This was such a dumb idea. Without powers, he stood virtually no chance against Puck, which made the sting of getting beat up and robbed by him a little sweeter. There wasn’t anything he could’ve done at that moment.
But now?
“Probably still nothing,” Luke mumbled, watching a mound of grass burst in front of him. “But I made it work.”
A giant flower-like petal crawled out of the ground and bloomed open, revealing a woman in a lab coat and khakis. Apparently Bloom showed up to the job looking every bit the botanist she was. Luke couldn’t fault her for that, not every Supe had to have a ridiculous-looking spandex outfit made from Prodigy material.
She propped up glasses Luke assumed she didn’t actually need, surveying the scene in front of her before giving an approving nod.
“Not very subtle but you got the job done,” Bloom said, shoeing away the spectators at a distance. “Did you feel your ability work yet?”
The red timer still hovered above his head.
“Nope,” Luke grunted, kicking Puck’s face only to hop back in pain. The dude felt like he was made of metal. “Ow, ow, ow I don’t think it’s enough.”
“You beat him unconscious?” Bloom said, then her eyes narrowed. For just a second, Luke felt a wave of dread run through him. “You don’t have to kill him, do you?”
The way she said it so slowly and the way the vines perked up as she spoke gave the cashier a very distinct impression. There was a wrong answer to this question.
That’s definitely a maybe. Frankly, he was surprised DDE hadn’t already completed it. He’d already stumbled his way into a litany of crimes like assault, home invasion and arson. Apparently that wasn’t enough. Maybe there was something specific he had to-
[System Seven Notice*]
[You have already subconsciously selected a suitable objective for “Daily Dose of Evil”. Until this objective is complete the quest will not finish.]
Huh… would’ve been nice to know that beforehand. Luke thought, tempted to flip the red words off.
[System Seven Notice*]
[Next time ask dumbass]
It can talk? He was learning more and more about System Seven every day. Luke tried to barrage it with more questions about the specifics of his abilities and everything else he could think of all at once but System Seven stayed quiet. Making it clear that it could reply to him, but it didn’t have to. Which was very annoying.
At least it answered the most relevant question he had.
And he was pretty sure he knew exactly what the “suitable objective” was.
“No, I don’t need to kill him.” Luke finally answered, causing the tension between him and Bloom to simmer slightly. “But we do need to take him somewhere private. You wouldn’t happen to own a warehouse by chance?”
“Why?” Bloom groaned in annoyance.
“Reasons,” Luke answered dismissively.
“Since I’m helping you and we’re going to be using my warehouse, you’re going to need to tell me what reasons. I can’t just let you torture someone on my property.” Bloom said in that serious, unfun tone of hers.
“Well its not toture per say…” Luke lied, moving his hands around trying to think of how to say it gently. “...I just need to break a part of him.”
“Causing permanent psychological damage on a fellow Supe when not in due course of self-defence is a textbook way to get Cuffed, Luke,” Bloom said sounding completely unconvinced.
“No, it’s a physical part of him,” Luke responded, rejecting her idea.
The way she stared at him with wide eyes like he was some kind of monster after he said that gave him her opinion on the matter. Which confused him because he didn’t get why she’d be so against something that wasn’t that big of a-
Her eyes flicked to his crotch and then back to Luke. He could’ve sworn there was something like pity in them.
“It’s kind of inhumane, but it’s not against the Exodus Accords,” Bloom mumbled, biting her upper lip in contemplation.
For a moment Luke was confused. Then he understood just how diabolic what he just said had sounded. Horror filled him completely at just the thought of such a vile act. He was evil but he wasn’t a monster.
“I MEANT HIS KNEECAPS!”