by Emrys Apollo
Hero X Villain (2)
CHAPTER I
Nicholas Wren twitched in his sleep. For the last six months he’d been trapped in this cold white compound in a lone room, and while it was quite the impressive gilded cage, he felt a hollowness that haunted him, even as he slept. The ex superhero rolled onto his back as he stirred, his eyelids fluttering. His grey shirt rolled up and exposed his stomach, olive skin flashing. Nic was thinner than he used to be, thin from being kept bound up in a hospital bed for a year. His former enemy and now captor, Sebastian Crane, liked him weak. Crane liked when Nic needed to throw the axe with both hands during training, he liked to see Nic hesitate when he was ordered to kill. Sebastian lorded his supremacy of evil over the hero every chance he got, a smirk on his face all the while. Nic couldn’t figure him out, and now it seemed the man wouldn’t even let him dream.
With a few kicks he was free of the sheet and thin blanket, and then Nic was sitting up. He put his head in his hands and took a few minutes to just breathe . His fingers found where the shirt was curled up and he pulled it down, his other hand raking through his hair. Crane forced him to cut it again only the day before, so it still felt really fresh. Nicholas was his doll to play with, his pawn.
And something else, too. Sometimes living as a permanent hostage got to Nic, and every time he’d cried or broke down emotionally, things got a little easier for a day or so. There’d be extra dessert on his lunch tray or an encouraging note from Baron, the villain who guarded him at all times. Some nights, though, some nights would end with Nic falling dead asleep in Crane’s arms. He didn’t understand how Sebastian Crane could swan into his cell and become something other than his enemy for an evening, but he did. Nic was grateful every time, even if it hurt. He hurt every day inside, and somehow the one person who made him feel better was also the one doing all this to him.
My life is fucked. Nic lifted his head at last, his green eyes staring at the tiny back garden he had through the window. It was still dark out, so there wasn’t much point in sitting outside. Since he’d been given this room he’d managed to build up some muscle and restore a little of his tan, but Crane kept everything just so. Nic would never regain the sheer muscle mass or size of his hero days, and were he not in this particular predicament, he might have been okay with that.
A sigh escaped his lips and he pulled his pillows about so he could lean against them. Nic lay back and stuck one hand up under his shirt. He rubbed his chest to try and soothe the anxiety he felt. Every day he faced potentially killing another person for Crane’s enjoyment, his and the Order of Darkness. Nic hated all the mocking sneers they had for him every time he was brought down to the courtyard to kill. Every time they made a little show of it, and Crane always wanted him to be dressed nicely and fresh showered like it was some sort of occasion. He supposed for the villains it really was just a show. They saw death as something to amuse themselves with. It sickened him, and yet every time he found himself looking for Crane’s particular smirk. Every. Goddamn. Time.
Fuck. Nic closed his eyes again so he might try meditating. He dropped his hand and let both hands fall to his sides as he lay there, and he actually managed to meditate for a solid ten minutes before releasing himself. As always, Nic was at the same conclusion: there was nothing he could do to change his life. He looked around the room, his cell, his whole world, essentially. Nic took all his meals here, he slept here, bathed, worked out, read, slept some more, played on the computer. Crane told him if he behaved, Nic would get a Nintendo Switch for Christmas. Something about the implication of him ‘being good’ by killing people for the amusement of supervillains seemed contradictory with the concept of Santa, but Nic just nodded along. That was how he stayed unharmed. Just nod and smile, nod and smile.
Nic sighed again. He pulled his sheet and blanket back up onto the bed but it brought him no closer to being asleep. A yawn managed to make it past his throat and he leaned into it and lay back down. The lights dimmed once more and Nic lay quietly in the dark, one arm loosely wrapped around the stuffed shark he’d named Mr. Business. Mr. Business was a small but vital comfort, and even Crane wasn’t cruel enough to take it away from Nic.
Nic stroked the stuffed toy for a few minutes as he felt sleep crawl back onto the bed on gentle cat feet, and then he was out. He dreamt of sushi and giant bowls of sauce, and when he awoke he felt someone stroking his hair. Nic didn’t move in the slightest as he came to. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, his face still up against the shark. Someone was in the bed with him, and he had a feeling he knew who .
Nic was soon sleepy again, and he was soothed by Sebastian stroking his hair. The hand on his head slowly moved to the back of his neck, fingers caressing his skin until he was halfway to unconsciousness again. “Poor little dove,” Sebastian softly crooned at him. His hand moved back up to Nic’s head and he resumed stroking his hair. “You’re too gentle for all this.”
Nic wasn’t sure if he should say something or not. He relaxed and dozed off, but Crane stayed with him until the sun began to shine onto the back garden and through the window. For a moment it almost seemed as Crane had gone, but when Nic lifted his head at last, the villain was still there.
“Morning,” Nic said softly. This wasn’t the first time Crane had come to comfort him. Nic didn’t know how to feel about him, really. Sebastian Crane wasn’t kind , but there was something alluring about him despite the cartoon villainy. And, despite him being the literal cause and reason for Nic’s imprisonment, his presence wasn’t totally unasked for.
“Good morning,” Crane said. Nic sat up in bed, the blanket pooling around his waist. He rubbed his eyes with one hand, satisfied that he’d gotten enough rest. Nic met his gaze at last, green eyes staring back at grey. Crane’s shirt was rumpled and the first few buttons undone, and Nic’s eyes definitely drifted down for a second. He looked away and Crane chuckled.
“Who am I killing today?” Nic decided to just come out and ask the question. Over the past year and a half he’d undergone blood tests, hair tests, skin samples, a liver biopsy, urine tests, all sorts of other pokes and prods, all for Sebastian to try and figure out the source of his powers. You’re special, Nic. That’s why he took you.
I didn’t ask to be special. I just thought I’d use it to help people.
“No one,” Crane said airily as he got up from the bed. “Today you’re staying in.” Nic looked down, his fingers curling into the blanket again. He was always staying ‘in’, as he hadn’t left the compound since he’d been brought on that little tram. There was no way out of here, and with Baron posted right outside the door and the black rock lining the walls… Nic was doomed to remain a prisoner until Crane saw fit to let him go. That was never going to happen.
“Do you want to sit in the garden with me?” Nic forced himself up. He had no friends, not here, not really. Crane and Baron were as close as he got, and even then it wasn’t anything resembling a real friendship. As long as he behaved they were kind enough, and even then Nic still craved more. Why he was asking his kidnapper for some company, he didn’t know. Perhaps the loneliness was driving him to madness.
“You’re sweet,” Crane said as he turned around to face Nic again. The compliment was sincere, and for a second his smile was almost sad before returning to his usual smug smirk. “But I’m afraid I must get some work done. It’s still early, you should rest a bit more.”
“Okay,” Nic said softly. He watched his enemy leave him, Baron poking his head in to make sure Nic was still there before locking him back inside. Nic went and sat outside by himself instead, and he enjoyed the feeling of the sun as it washed over his skin. This was his only way of being outdoors, and he wasn’t going to squander it.
Even
tually he went back to bed and lay down a little longer to rest. There were hidden cameras all over his room, so Crane would know if Nic didn’t at least try to sleep a little more. Nic managed twenty more minutes of dozing off before getting up again, and he sighed.
He made his bed and grabbed clean clothes before showering. Everything he wore was made of linen, and usually restricted to the colors of black, grey, lighter grey, white, navy blue, and the occasional pale blue piece hidden amongst the rest. His shoes were all slip on and in grey or black, and all his socks were the same too, black or grey. Nic spent longer in the shower than he should have, but it was the only thing that really grounded him these days.
After he finished and got dressed he tidied up his room, noting how sterile it felt even after six months. Everything fit the same damn color palette. Nic grabbed his breakfast tray and took it outside to eat so he could at least look at something green. Maybe this place really would drive him mad. Nic could see himself losing it one day and he decided he was at peace with that.
Breakfast was two eggs, hard boiled and soaked overnight in soy sauce and green onion. Nic ate them with a bowl of rice and a cut up peach, and he sat cross legged in his chair as he sipped his juice box. The food was better now that he wasn’t locked in a hospital room. Nic finished quickly and took the tray back inside to the slot to be taken away. Lunch would be served later.
He stretched and played with his sketchbook or a while at his desk, his hand scrawling out a messy drawing of his surroundings. Nic couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to draw, so when he finished he put his pencil away and stowed the sketchbook back in the drawer. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. Maybe I really will lose my mind here.
He shot a glance at his workout equipment. Nic wasn’t supposed to workout today, as he’d done a workout yesterday. He looked away. Knowing Baron, if Nic even thought too hard about working out on his rest days, the muscle man would break down the door and tear him a new one. Nic wasn’t going to take that chance. He almost sighed again but forced it into a slow exhale instead. Is it too early to have a nap?
The answer was yes, not that anyone would stop him. As long as Nic followed the rules, which were simple enough, and he didn’t act out, he was allowed to do whatever he liked as long as he remained within the confines of his bedroom. He got up and pushed his chair in before making his way to the bed. Nic flopped down and rested his head against his shark, Mr. Business. He pulled his phone off the charging cord and tapped the screen. The phone was bugged and wired so he couldn’t call for help in any capacity, but Nic didn’t really care. Who was he supposed to call for help, the heroes who’d left him to get kidnapped? The heroes who never tried to rescue him? The cops, who Crane would kill with ease?
Nic snorted to himself. He opened up YouTube and watched a bunch of cat videos for an hour, and it put him at ease. Then he checked in on his virtual cats in Neko Atsume, and then he found himself scrolling through the news app. That was a terrible idea.
“Holy shit,” Nic said to himself as he sat up. He pulled Mr. Business into his lap as he watched the video play. There was the sound of glass shattering and people screaming, and then the great moan as an entire building collapsed. Seconds before it hit a man in a navy pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt and pink tie sat kneeling on the concrete in the video. He was bound, his eyes bulging out of his sagging face as he looked about wildly, spittle flying from his fleshy lips. Nic recognized him instantly.
That’s the top financier for Echo City, Reggie Wynn. Oh, fuck. The building collapsed right on top of him and Nic set the phone down for a second. He blinked and drew in a breath before picking it back up.
A figure strode into the frame, arms outstretched like some sort of god. Nic recognized him immediately, and he felt a chill run down his spine.
“But I’m afraid I must get some work done.”
It was Crane as the Emperor, the same smirk on his face as he floated down from the sky. Nic watched as he blew the reporter away with his powers, a great burning hole in her chest, shirt smoking as she died. She died like she was nothing. She died like an ant. Nic’s fingers trembled as he held the phone, but he couldn’t stop watching.
“This is only the beginning,” Emperor said. The look on his face was reminiscent of Julius Caesar surveying his vast empire. Nic felt terror pierce his heart like a knife. The Emperor stared right into the camera, his cape billowing in the wind. Nic swallowed. “The beginning of the end before we build anew.”
The feed cut out. A news reporter at the central station took over, her own hands trembling as she read the report. Nic clicked the side button of his phone to turn it off and he put it aside. He sat in shock for a while before deciding to take that early nap after all.
-
Nic woke up to a hand in his hair. He blinked and sat up, and there sat Crane with that smug smirk on his face, his costume replaced once more with black slacks and a white button up. “You’re pretty when you sleep.”
“Thanks.” Nic didn’t really know how to respond to that. He made no move to stop Crane touching him, as it felt good. It made Nic feel wanted and loved, even if it was his enemy doing this to him. He wasn’t sure what that made him. He wasn’t sure that he cared.
Silence hung in the air for several minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but Nic knew he’d have to say something eventually. “I saw you on a broadcast.”
Crane’s chuckle turned his heart to ice. Nic suddenly felt disgusted by his touch, but he didn’t dare try to remove the hand stroking his head. “The Order needed to make its move. Wynn was ah… useful while he lasted. I’m certainly richer for it.” Crane’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. Nic trembled as he thought of the woman he’d killed, the ease with which he’d ended her life.
“Will I end up like her?”
“Hmm.”
“That woman you killed,” Nic said. “When I’m no longer useful, will you end my life the way you did hers?”
Crane was quiet for a moment, and Nic was afraid he’d be attacked right there on the bed. “No.”
There was more silence. Nic lay unmoving even as the hand on his head stopped. His breath hitched in his throat. Crane’s hand resumed and Nic managed to relax.
“You’re too precious,” Crane said quietly. His tone sounded strange. “You have no idea how valuable you are.”
What? Valuable? What does he mean by that?
“What are you going to do with me?” Nic wanted to know. He wanted to know his purpose in the Order’s schemes, in Crane’s schemes. He needed to know, not for his survival, but purely for the sake of his curiosity.
“I’m going to rule the world with you.”
CHAPTER II
Nic stumbled as Baron hauled him along down the halls and out into the open air. The compound was a great brutalist beast of white and grey, marble and stone, statues of gods and ancients that Nic couldn’t get close enough to discern. Crane seemed to fancy himself a god. It seemed Nic was his way to get there. Wind blew through his hair and brushed over his skin, and Nic felt alive for the first time in weeks. He ached to go somewhere, even if it was just to explore the compound. Baron pulled him along, the chain tight in his grip as Nic fell in step behind him.
They made it to the courtyard. Nic braced himself, knowing that he was about to kill someone else. This was the only reason he was brought out, to kill for the Order’s amusement. Baron told him when he’d first been captured that it wasn’t a requirement, but Nic knew damn well that was a lie. Of course he had to kill for them, because if he didn’t, they’d take away what little he enjoyed and dangle it over his head until he performed for them.
“Ah, Nicholas,” Crane said as he took the chain from Baron. His right hand woman, Alyson, sat lazing about in a chair as she watched. Her smug smile came in the shade of purple lipstick, sunglasses hiding the rest of her face. Nic nodded to her in acknowledgment, and she tipped her head back. She’d tortured him for months when he’d first been kid
napped, tortured him until he finally stopped struggling. It didn’t matter that he’d given up, that he’d become an obedient little pet. His wrists were still bound in chains, and they would stay that way for some time.
The blood on the stone floor was still there from the last man Nic was forced to kill. His reality bending powers were a source of great amusement for his captors. He stared at the spot on the ground as more villains converged in the courtyard for their entertainment. “My pet,” Crane said as he went to him, his hand lifting Nic’s chin so their eyes met. “You’re looking a little pale. I have a great task for you today, one that might be… difficult. But if you do as I ask, I’ll make sure you’re rewarded for it.”
Nic nodded. He didn’t really have a choice. Crane did this amazingly horrible thing where he’d give Nic an ‘option’ to do something, and if Nic chose wrong, he was punished until he performed. If he chose correctly, he was usually given some paltry reward to placate him. Nic knew exactly what Crane was doing; he was training Nic to become just as much of a killer as anyone else in the courtyard, and it was working .
“I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” Nic said, his voice flat. It was true, and some part of him was thrilled at the getting to use his powers. Thankfully, all those that he’d been forced to kill were people who were far from innocent. It didn’t change the fact that he had blood on his hands. It didn’t change the fact that the monsters around him made the rapists and killers he killed look like specks when comparing the enormity of their crimes. Crane is crippling Echo City, and with it he’ll control the east coast. Then the country, then the world… Nic couldn’t get the image of the building collapse out of his head. Did anyone from the League even show up? Do they still care or have they abandoned ship?