Glenn gulped, “Well, shit.”
Eve’s posse sprung them. They ripped the henchmen from their chairs and carried them kicking and screaming out of the café. Eve grabbed someone else’s frappé from the counter and casually followed them outside.
The two dozen members of Eve’s posse spilled into the streets. Harold, Glenn, and Terry were held up by their clothes and dangled inches above the ground. Despite the severity of the situation, the henchmen didn’t hold the millennials’ behavior against them. They were likely worked up from having recently killed some poor girl and understood that none of this was personal.
Eve walked out of the café behind them, sipping the frappé.
“So, what should we do with these stalkers?” she asked.
Her crew responded by shouting responses ranging from beating the old men to a pulp, to drawing and quartering them as if it were medieval times.
“Oh, I know!” Eve proclaimed. “How about we tie them to the tracks?”
“Ah, that’s a classic,” Terry said.
“She has good taste,” Glenn agreed.
“These kids need stricter parenting,” Harold grumbled.
As Eve’s crew headed down the street toward the metro rail, Indiana Drones blasted down from the sky and hovered above them. Deimos, Siren, and Professor Paws peered over the drone’s rails at the mayhem currently unfolding beneath them.
Deimos reached into the box from his garage and pulled out the megaphone.
“Attention!” he said into the megaphone. “This is Deimos speaking, world-renowned villain and recent Internet sensation. Please put my henchmen down!”
Eve’s posse immediately dropped Terry, Glenn, and Harold and looked up in amazement. They had never seen a flying craft like Indiana Drones before. In fact, nobody had since Deimos only built it yesterday. The technological marvel was certainly a sight to behold as it hovered above them, glinting in the late afternoon sun.
Deimos lowered the craft slowly. It landed on the street in front of the crowd. Several cars had already begun to line up behind the throng of millennials. However, the drivers assumed it was simply another stupid flash mob and turned their cars around to find an alternate route.
As soon as Indiana Drones touched down, Professor Paws leapt off the craft and bolted toward Harold. He immediately began licking Harold’s face and ears.
“Augh! I would have preferred the tracks!” Harold shouted in protest.
Deimos assisted Siren down from Indiana Drones before turning his attention to Eve. He walked toward her and extended his hand, but her followers promptly blocked him and formed a human wall surrounding her. Deimos dropped his hand.
“Okay,” he said, annoyed. “Like I said, my name is Deimos. This is my wife and partner in crime, Siren. I see you’ve already met my henchmen, despite their explicit orders to not be seen.”
The henchmen dropped their heads, embarrassed.
“Sorry, boss,” they lamented.
Eve pushed aside her posse and they formed a path to Deimos. She stood confidently in front of him, her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“You sent these boomers to follow me? Why?”
“Because I have a business proposition for you,” Deimos said. “No, that’s not right. It’s more of a life proposition.”
Eve crossed her arms.
“I’m happy with my life, thanks.”
Siren stepped in front of Deimos and coaxed, “Listen, Eve, I’m sorry for the way we’re approaching you with this. Quite frankly, we are running out of time and need your help. I know this is out of the blue, I mean we literally flew here, but if we can’t recruit someone like you then millions of people are going to suffer.”
“Is this like a Greenpeace thing? I’m already an environmentalist,” Eve said.
Eve’s buff female friend shouted from behind her, “Eve is a defender of the planet and all its living creatures!”
This was greeted with cheers and applause from Eve’s posse. Glenn thought about the poor girl they had likely killed several minutes prior but decided to keep his mouth shut.
Deimos shook his head.
“No, we aren’t associated with Greenpeace or any organization for that matter. We’re villains! Don’t you recognize us from the news?”
Eve scrunched her nose and replied, “The news? Ew.”
Deimos dropped his head.
“Nobody knows me anymore,” he said dejectedly.
“That might be for the best,” Siren said, patting Deimos reassuringly. “Eve, essentially what villains are, or what we were meant to be, is progressive thinkers and doers. We disagree with the decisions being made by those in power and want to show the world that there are other ways of achieving change for the better. Does it seem like your attempts to save the environment fall short? Have you wanted to make a difference in a way nobody ever has before? If so, maybe we can help you with that.”
Eve considered this. It was true, she did want to make a difference in the world. She thought of herself as an activist, but other than the occasional pro-environmental lyrics she threw into her songs every now and then, she had never actually accomplished anything more than beating up baristas or bitches on their cell phones. But who were these old people to say they could help her? Even if they were against everything she was against, how could she trust them to not use her like so many managers and ex-boyfriends had in the past? There was no way to tell for sure, and she wasn’t ready to risk giving up the life she had now. It was easy, fun, and everyone liked her. For a twenty-three-year-old with a rough upbringing, that was all that mattered.
Realizing that rushing a decision out of Eve might go poorly, it was Deimos who spoke first.
“Before you decide, hear me out,” he said. “I know it’s a lot to ask you to trust us, and we are in no way asking you to make a choice right now, but you have to understand that we are trying to stop a very bad man from quite literally destroying the world as you know it.”
Suddenly, a faint whirring of fan blades approached them. Deimos looked up and saw it was another one of Hans’ drones, except this one had a screen beneath it displaying a live feed of his large, pasty face.
“Now, Deimos,” Hans said from the drone, “you know it is impolite to talk about people when they aren’t around.”
Deimos rolled his eyes as the drone descended in between him and the crowd of Eve’s crew. Hans was certainly one for the dramatics and loved making an entrance, even if he wasn’t actually there.
“Hey there, Hans,” Deimos said. “I was wondering when you would be showing up today.”
“I swung by your job and house earlier, if you could call either of them as such,” Hans said, sneering. “I must have just missed you because from the look of the places you left in a hurry. You might find solace in the fact that Janice from HR only received a minor concussion from when you attacked her earlier.”
“Technically, she knocked herself out,” Deimos replied.
Hans continued, “But when I got reports of a mob gathering downtown, I knew you had to be involved so we rushed over.”
“We?” Siren asked.
“Oh right, I have a special surprise for you on the way. Triceratop is-”
“Hey, I know you!” Eve shouted, who suddenly recognized who the fat man’s face on the drone belonged to.
The drone turned its camera to face Eve.
“Young lady, don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt someone when-”
“You’re Hans Goenn!” Eve yelled, interrupting Hans again. “You’re the CEO of Crymson Tech!”
Hans sighed. The drone rose higher to get a better look at the mob of millennials standing behind Eve.
“That’s right, I am,” Hans responded. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind please vacating the premises so that-”
“Your company is responsib
le for hundreds of environmental disasters!” Eve shouted, interrupting Hans for a third time. “You test your deadly genetic research on animals, killing thousands every year! Your oil is destroying the natural ecosystems in the Gulf, and your logging is wiping away our rainforests!”
Hans’ face turned beet red.
“This is the last time I’ll tell you, little girl. Stop interrupting me when-”
“Get him!” Eve shouted, who was clearly not familiar with the rule of three.
Her posse immediately began throwing anything they could find at Hans’ drone. Trash, rocks, street signs, even other people were all propelled toward the drone and littered the street below it. The drone flew up out of range from the projectiles.
As Eve’s posse continued to try and knock Hans’ drone out of the sky, a black windowless van peeled around the corner at the end of the street. It skidded to a halt in a cloud of smoke a block ahead of the crowd. The millennials stopped throwing trash and looked onwards as the van creaked and groaned, shaking from side to side. It finally stood still once Triceratop emerged from the passenger side door. He was greeted by a mixture of gasps and screams from Eve’s posse.
Deimos approached Eve and said, “You and your friends need to get out of here. I wish I had more time to explain but this guy is incredibly dangerous.”
Eve scoffed at him, “Don’t worry about us, old man. We can handle ourselves in a fight.” She turned to her crew. “Check out this boomer rolling up to a fight with one dude!”
Her crew laughed a loud, fake laugh. Diminishing an opponent’s efforts through taunting and laughter is crucial to any fight among people in their age bracket. Being over thirty years their senior, Hans ignored them as any parent would ignore someone else’s kids throwing a tantrum in a supermarket. His drone descended and hovered between Deimos and the van.
“Deimos, I have someone very special for you to meet. He too suffered from the loss of his legs, but unlike you he was smart enough to listen to what I had to offer. Now, he’s back on his feet and better than ever. I would be honored if you were his first test run. Triceratop, the door please.”
Triceratop reached to open the side door to the van, but as soon as his hand touched the handle the door blasted off its hinges. Triceratop was sent sprawling backward as the van door spiraled outward and embedded itself into the brick of a nearby building.
The interior of the van was as dark as the air was tense. There was hardly a breath of wind. It felt as if the entire city was frozen and every living soul was focused on the idling van.
The van rocked as something inside began to move. Finally coming into the light, The Veteran hobbled awkwardly out of the van. His legs were much longer than that of a normal person’s and they were bent in what seemed to be a permanent cowboy stance. He couldn’t walk straight due to the gears built into the genetically modified legs, so he was forced to move forward with small hops. Strapped to The Veteran’s back was a sniper rifle so large that the butt of it scraped along the ground as he hopped forward. After a few hops he stopped moving and stood there, wavering, staring blankly at the crowd of people before him.
There was a long moment of silence. Triceratop stood up and dusted himself off, eyeing The Veteran angrily. Then, Deimos began to laugh. His laughter echoed down the quiet street, bouncing jarringly off the tall buildings surrounding them. Everyone turned to face him as he wiped tears from his eyes.
“That’s terrible, man,” Deimos said through fits of laughter. “I mean, I can see what you were going for, but my God that poor guy.”
Hans pointed his drone at The Veteran to make sure they were talking about the same person, then turned back to Deimos.
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
Deimos took a breath to calm himself.
“Well, there’s certainly a theme going on here,” he said. “The three horns for Triceratop to look like the dinosaur, right? So what’s this guy called? Frog Man?”
Now everyone on Deimos’ side of the street began to laugh, sparsely at first, but the young crowd quickly remembered the importance of demeaning an opponent before a fight and the laughter turned uproarious.
“How about Captain Cowboy?” Deimos continued, prompting more laughter from the group.
The Veteran began to fume. He scowled as his face turned red.
“Stop it,” he muttered, unheard.
The crowd continued laughing, infuriating him further. He knew they were laughing at him for how he looked, for his disability. This was beyond schoolyard bullying to him. This was his identity being mocked. Something clicked in The Veteran’s head. He clenched his jaw and a vein formed above his brow.
“I SAID STOP LAUGHING AT ME!”
The Veteran launched forward at an incredible speed, blurring across the block in the blink of an eye. It happened so fast that Deimos felt The Veteran’s blow before he saw him move.
The supervillain’s knee connected with Deimos’ chest, causing him to fly back through the crowd. He knocked two of Eve’s followers over and still continued to shoot backward before skidding along the asphalt and finally rolling to a stop at the end of the street.
A hush fell over the crowd. Siren immediately ran to Deimos’ side. He could barely sit up and choked out a mouthful of blood. Siren lifted his head and removed the chest plate Deimos had put on before they left. Despite it being sturdier and thicker than what he wore while fighting Triceratop, the entire breastplate was caved in. As soon as Siren peeled it off of Deimos’ chest he breathed in a gulp of fresh air.
It was now Hans’ turn to laugh.
“Holy shit, what a kick!” he proclaimed. “I’m betting you can’t take any more of those.”
Terry, Glenn, and Harold charged at The Veteran but he jumped into the air, soaring to the top of an adjacent four-story building. He landed in a stumble and swung the rifle around from his back, pointing it down at the crowd.
Eve stepped toward Hans’ drone and shouted, “You coward! You’re too much of a pussy to even be here!”
“Your novelty has worn off,” Hans said. “You know what? Kill the girl first.”
Without skipping a beat, The Veteran cocked his rifle and took aim at Eve. However, right as he fired, the burly woman in Eve’s crew dove in front of her. The bullet hit her squarely in the chest. She was dead before she hit the ground.
Eve fell to her knees and gripped at the dead woman’s shirt, pulling her close.
“Megan! No!” Eve screamed.
Tears poured from her eyes and fell onto her now deceased follower. Eve fell into a fit of hysterics, crying out loudly for help. The Veteran had already positioned his rifle to fire a second round, but as he did another one of Eve’s crewmembers jumped in front of her. He took the bullet and fell dead.
The Veteran fired again. And again. And again. Each time, another follower dove in front of the bullet taking the shot for Eve. Her posse’s numbers began to dwindle as their corpses piled up in front of her.
The rifle rang out loudly in the streets, prompting passersby to run for cover. Between each shot, Eve’s crying would fill the silence. Recognizing her voice, many of those same people ran back to confirm that they had indeed heard the famous Eve.
“That’s Eve!” a young fan shouted from down the street. “Hey everyone! Over here! Eve needs our help!”
Soon, more and more people began charging in from all sides to refill the ranks Eve had lost. Her numbers doubled as she remained crouched over her fallen comrade, crying into the air. Finally, Hans flew his drone between The Veteran and Eve to stop his firing.
“This is getting ridiculous. Triceratop, take care of her,” Hans said.
Triceratop stepped forward. The miniguns he used on Siren the day prior had been replaced with a shiny new set. When the orgy of gears clicked and slid the mechanical parts into place, he took aim at Eve.
&nb
sp; Deimos knew what was about to happen but he couldn’t even stand, let alone get to Eve’s side in time with Hells Belts to protect her from the assured onslaught of bullets. There was nothing he could do but watch in horror as Triceratop began firing.
As the muzzles flashed, Eve’s new swarm of fans began throwing themselves like lemmings in front of the oncoming spray of bullets. They dove and died in front of her in a spectacular fashion, piling up into a towering meat shield, protecting her from Triceratop’s attack. As soon as one died, three more seemed to take their place. Eve truly did have an unlimited number of followers in Los Rebeldes, and Deimos was amazed to see how dedicated each one of them actually was.
Siren couldn’t bear to watch the massacre for a moment longer.
“We need to do something!” she cried.
Deimos fought through the pain and, after spitting out more blood from an internal injury he noted a doctor would absolutely need to attend to, he finally stood.
“Triceratop is about to run out of ammo,” Deimos grimaced. “I’ll take care of the new guy. Go help Eve.”
Siren nodded and bolted down the street while Deimos hobbled to Indiana Drones. He pulled Hells Belts out from one of the moving boxes and strapped it on. Reaching back into the box, Deimos grabbed Tears And Fears and yanked out its wiring. He plugged one end into Hells Belts then wrapped the naked wires around his robotic braces, turning them into a conduit for the magnetic field. For good measure, he opened the first aid kit from Terry’s stash and gave himself half a dose of adrenaline.
He then turned his attention to The Veteran, who was still positioned on the roof of an adjacent building watching the events unfold. Deimos took in a deep, painful breath of air and let the adrenaline do its work. His vision cleared, the pain in his chest subsided, and his heart began to race. He turned pointedly toward the building The Veteran was positioned on. The thrusters in Deimos’ robotic legs whirred with hot air as they powered up.
In a blast of heat and light Deimos took off, his speed increasing with every step. In a calculated pivot, he leapt upwards as he reached the base of the building. His speed propelled him up the wall as the thrusters simultaneously changed angles, giving him the reverse thrust he needed to run up along the side of the building.
Villain (Book 1): Villain 1 Page 14