Greenmatter: Revenge of the Maeville Ghost

by Daniel North

  I tired my hand at writing since I had some interesting perspectives, being an alien and all, but found that my science background brought in too much Jargon, some of which didn’t even translate into your language.

  Finally, one day my question of what to do with my life was answered. I was sitting in a sandbox, making extremely elaborate sandcastles, as you do, when I noticed a kid left behind their comic book. I picked it up and looked around for the kid, but I was the last one left in the park. So, I started reading the thing and became intrigued. I mean, I could be one of these characters, I had superpowers.

  That night I stood in front of my dorm room mirror testing out costumes all night. I could create any costume imaginable, as I could literally build it with my imagination. I went through hundreds of variations: cape/no cape, leotard/no leotard, helmet/no helmet, cowl/no cowl, blue/black, etcetera. By four in the morning, I settled on my current design, a tight green catsuit with wedged heels and a mask. I even threw in some dark green detailing to give it a bit more of a science fiction look, since I was technically an alien.

  Looking in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire my creation. I started posing in my best heroic impersonations. I loved how incredible the suit made me look, how good it felt to wear it. It was sexy. I was sexy.

  My hands went to my breasts, feeling them through the tight rubber material. I turned around to play with my tight ass, lifting it and letting fall, watching as it thrummed in the confines of the tight suit. I ran my hands from foot to hip, enjoying the perfect smoothness of the material. My nipples started responding to my touch and rose to strain against the rubber-like material. I pinched one of my nipples through my costume and involuntarily gasped in lustful pleasure. My other hand drifted over my mons and further over my sex. I lightly rubbed a finger over my pussy and could feel the suit’s material slide over my sex with lubricated ease.

  What am I doing?

  I was having mixed feelings about touching myself with my suit on, but it was too late. I made myself too horny, I needed to see this through. Besides, no-one was watching.

  I jumped onto my bed and started rubbing myself through my costume. My breaths turned to pants of arousal and my heart rate was starting to jackrabbit. As my muscles tensed, I couldn’t help but arch my back and groan with anticipation for the coming release. I rubbed faster with one hand while massaging and squeezing my breasts with the other.

  “Oh fuck,” I breathed. Rubbing myself wasn’t enough anymore. I wanted to penetrate myself but although the costume’s material was relatively thin, I couldn’t push my fingers inside me. I tried to focus and will the molecules of my costume’s crotch to part, but my head was flooded with a concoction of distracting hormones now. I just didn’t have the concentration to use my ability to open my costume.

  I snarled in frustration and grabbed the crotch of my costume and desperately tried to tear open a hole with my strength. The material wouldn’t break. I started rubbing my clit furiously while I pulled open the drawer of my nightstand and felt for the scissors. Pens, pencils, and the odd condom spilled out of the drawer as I moved my hand side to side, searching for what I needed. I let out a mewing gasp as I was almost at the edge. Finally, I felt the twinned hoops of the scissor handle and yanked them out. I pulled at the costumes crotch and started gnawing on the material with the scissors, relieved to find that they were cutting through. The second the hole was big enough; I grabbed its edges and tore with all my strength. The material strained against me, but ultimately gave way and was ripped open to my navel and ass. I let out a chocked gasp as the sensation of cool air touched my pussy. Without delay, I pushed two of my fingers into my pussy and groaned in pleasured satisfaction.

  Now I could finally finish this. I found my G-spot and rubbed it vigorously, the smooth surface of my gloved hand felt strange but fucking incredible. I arched my back again and squeezed my breast with my other hand. This was it.

  Pleasure wash over my body like a tsunami, causing me to let out a satisfied and guttural scream of satisfaction. All the muscles in my body finally were released of the gathered tension and my body went limp as I breathed heavily. If I wanted to move, I couldn’t.

  Someone banged on the wall and yelled, “Shut the fuck up!”

  I couldn’t care, my head was swimming with the concoction of hormones produced by my masturbation, and I couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

  For the next ten minutes I just laid on my bed in my torn costume, twitching with each wave of my orgasm’s aftershocks. At some point I fell asleep, waking up the next day to find myself still wearing my ripped costume, and the smell of my spunk still present in the small dorm room. It was a good morning.

  Chapter 2 (present)

  I made long and quick strides as I left the university gymnasium. More than a few angry faces were glaring at me for leaving ten minutes into the exam, including the professor. He was probably just mad that I was smarter and more educated than him. As for the students, they didn’t like my impact on the bell curve. My marks tended to shift the curve to the right in any class I attended, and a few of the weaker students always ended up failing because if it. It’s the university’s fault really, they should just consider my score an outlier when marking the class, that way I wouldn’t have an impact on the fail rate.

  I made for my dorm room and dumped off my school stuff, then immediately left to meet Detective Harris.

  I was still relatively new at the whole superhero thing, but I quickly learned that I was only scratching the surface by preventing muggings and assaults. The heavy crimes were deeper and less obvious, as to when and where they were going to happen. Hence, why I needed Detective Harris.

  Detective Anthony Harris was one of the few truly good cops in the city. His adherence to the law was relentless and his high moral standard unbreakable. He was well into his 50s and through his service, earned a reputation as the city’s unofficial guardian angel. His years of experience allowed him to build an extensive and reliable network of informants on organized crime in the city. If anything happened in the underworld, Detective Harris either knew about it or knew someone that would have an idea about it.

  A few weeks ago, I established contact with Detective Harris. Like most people, he knew of me but was sceptical as to whether I was the real deal. Which was fair, seeing that I’m the only person with superpowers on the planet. It just wasn’t heard of. I managed to get a phone call to him with a burner phone, asking him to meet me in the city’s central park at midnight. I retrospect, it was a shady thing to ask, so the phone call took an extra twenty minutes while Harris grilled me on details only I could know involving the cases I was associated with. After being satisfied that I seemed to be the mysterious green hero in town, we met. I showed him that I indeed had abilities and explained to him that I needed some guidance in finding where to strike the criminal underworld. It took some convincing, as I was technically a vigilante, which was illegal, but he eventually admitted that the city police just didn’t have the resources to tackle some of the more established organizations. So, our arrangement was established.

  At first, Detective Harris gave me small stuff to test me like, breaking up little smuggling rings, or capturing a drug dealer. Although, within a couple of months he had me shutting down small gangs, and more recently, stopping bank robberies.

  Like I said before, Detective Harris has the intel to know what’s happening in the underworld, but until me, lacked the resources to do anything about it fast enough.

  Today, I was supposed to meet Harris at pier 34 on the opposite end of town. Which was fine, but I didn’t have a car. Normally, I just jogged to wherever I needed to be, as it kept me in shape and most people didn’t over think a woman jogging as suspicious. That’s not to say that I didn’t gain unwanted attention jogging. There were plenty of men who would drop everything their doing to get a glimpse of my ass in spandex, but most of the time their attention was harmless. Granted, there was this one time where one gu
y sprinted after me to slap my ass. It was on a dare from his friends, but I punched him in the throat regardless.

  I checked the clock tower in the center of campus to see if I could make the run, but at my regular pace I’d be twenty minutes late. I gave into hailing a taxi instead.

  The taxi driver that pulled up beside me was in his later 30s and balding. When I got into the cab, I could smell his body odour and cigarette smoke immediately.

  “Where to, lady?” the cabby asked. He smiled with yellowed and rotten teeth, and his breath wafted over when he spoke.

  I tried not to offend him by looking out the side window while I made a disgusted face. I said, “Just take me to the docks.”

  I started rolling down the window to get some fresh air, when I noticed that the car still hadn’t moved. When I looked up at the cabby, I found him starting at me though his rear-view mirror, but not at my face. He seemed to have adjusted the mirror so he could get a better look at my thighs.

  I blushed, becoming very aware of the amount of skin my short dress revealed. The dress worked fine for campus, as most of the other girls dressed in a similar fashion, but the dress was fair too liberal for any from the inner city. A point proven by how the taxi driver was looking at me.

  I cleared my throat to let the cabby know that I could see what he was doing.

  The cabby looked up at the road and frowned, then quickly pulled the car into traffic.

  During the ride I also unconsciously felt myself trying to spread my dress down my thighs a bit more. It was a fruitless attempt to be less noticeable to the cabby. The man still hadn’t readjusted the angle of his mirror and I could see him occasionally glance at it from time to time.

  When the car arrived at the docks, I all but slapped the fair into the cabby’s hand. I’m pretty sure I paid him an extra ten, but I’d have done anything to get some distance from that creep. I continued to walk in the direction of pier 34 but could still feel the creep’s eyes on me.

  I couldn’t help it, I looked over my shoulder to see if he were still there.

  Exactly where I left him, the cabby was watching me. When he saw me turn, he gave me another one of those ugly toothed smiles.

  I’m never taking another cab again. I shivered and walked faster. I was tempted to jog but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how uncomfortable he made me feel.

  It took another ten minutes for me to walk to the 34th pier from the docks, and luckily it was without my ugly taxi driver’s eyes on me. The guy finally left after I was about a block way.

  I snuck behind some crates at the beginning of the pier and pulled three green earrings from my ear. They were teardrop shaped studs that were much heavier than you’d expect. Granted, they weren’t regular earrings.

  Technically, I could make my costume anytime I wanted but if I were doing it from scratch and the materials weren’t readily available, the process could take almost fifteen minutes. In a situation where I needed to switch into my costume immediately, I needed a faster method. Therefor, I started carrying the condensed materials for my costume in my earrings.

  I stripped out of my summer dress and underwear, then focused on the earrings of condensed material in my hand. The material expanded and began to mold around my body like a flowing gel. The process tickled a little. I began to form the image of my costume in my mind, then concentrated on shaping the gel to that image. I could immediately feel my costume snuggly hug my entire body as it formed, and feel my mask begin to materialize around my eyes. When it finished, I grabbed my hair into a ponytail and used the remainder of the material to form an elastic band to hold it. Finally, I focused on the design of my makeup around me eyes, detailing it in my mind until its physical completion.

  In just under thirty seconds I was once again Greenmatter. I grabbed my dress and the rest of my belongings and condensed them into the three small studs and placed them on my ear, colouring them to match the rest of my costume.

  I strode down the long pier 34 and found Detective Harris leaning over the railing at the end. He was smoking a cigarette and looking over the calm glassy surface of the great lake to the horizon.

  As I approached, I could hear the gentle splashes of the water, lapping under the pier. It was nice out here today. Before I got too close to Harris, I stopped. He looked so peaceful and meditative, making me hesitant to intrude on his solidarity.

  Evidently, Harris had heard me, as he flicked his cigarette in the water and turned to face me.

  “You know, you can’t exactly sneak up on a guy when your wearing heels on a wooden dock,” Harris said.

  “Detective, I’m hurt. Are you saying you don’t agree with my taste in footwear?” I said coyly.

  “Just an observation. You get the job done, who am I to question your methods,” replied Harris.

  I smiled, crossing my arms and cocking my hip, then asked, “So, what can I do for you, Detective?”

  Harris crossed his arms, mirror me slightly, and leaned against the railing. “There’s something big brewing in the underworld, maybe a change in management, maybe preparation for a job. Everyone’s keeping their mouth shut about it, but you can’t hide that much movement and activity by not talking. My sources can’t pin any one person involved or give me anything I can use to get a warrant to go after them.” Harris said. He frowned like something sour was in his mouth and I could see his tongue ran over his teeth under his lips. Continuing, he said, “The one thing I’ve managed to figure out, is that my gut says, Ethan Craft is at the center of it.”

  My eyebrows shot up at the mention of Ethan Craft. I whistled and said, “He’s one of the biggest names in the underworld.”

  “Not just one of, the biggest. Every major operation I’ve investigated within the past ten years, has suspected Ethan Craft of being behind it. The problem is that he’s squeaky clean, not so much as a parking ticket in his name. The man’s careful not to get his hands dirty and always has a fall guy ready if I ever get close. I only wanted to use you as a last resort when dealing with this guy, but if something this big is happening, I can’t just sit back and pick up the pieces when it’s over,” Harris said gravely.

  I stayed silent for a long moment before saying, “I’m ready,” then asked, “What to you need me to do?”

  Harris sighed and said, “One of my sources managed to steal a pass for Ethan Craft’s private gentlemen’s club. Key leaders in the criminal underworld are all at Craft’s club tomorrow morning. I have reason to believe that whatever is happening in the underworld, Craft’s going to host a meeting to talk about it. If I can get a bug into Craft’s meeting when he reveals what he’s planning, I may finally have the evidence to nail this guy.” Harris got a look of determination in his eye, but that sour flavour washed over his expression again. “The thing about Craft’s club is that it’s catered with women of particular assets, dissimilar to that of my source, but not unlike your own,” Harris said, his eyes motioning to my breasts.

  I felt my cheeks redden, and I looked to the side. “Oh.”

  “If you were to do this for me, you couldn’t do it as Greenmatter, but instead would have to do it as yourself.” Harris said uncomfortably.

  “That kind of defeats the purpose of a secret identity,” I said quietly.

  “You wouldn’t need to use your real name, and the only people that would see you without your mask, would be the patrons of the club. Even I wouldn’t see you,” Harris quickly added. “I know this is unorthodox, and a big favour to ask, but I wouldn’t ask it unless I had no other choice. Like I said, the club has specific tastes, and no-one else I trust fits the description,” said Harris.

  What was I supposed to do? I mean, yea, even if I went in there as myself, the chances of anyone recognizing me would be astronomically low. I don’t exactly get out much in terms of socializing. It was just that, the thought of going into a gentleman’s club while being labeled as someone, on the menu, was making the occasional groping I suffered at that waitressi
ng job seem minor.

  Harris finally spoke up, “I understand. It was stupid of me to ask something like that of you. I’ll try and find another way into Craft’s club.”

  I walked up to the detective an put my hand on his shoulder and said, “It’s alright detective. I’ll do it,”

  Chapter 3

  I had looked up pictures of Ewan Craft’s gentleman’s club on the internet last night, to get an idea of what to expect when I got there. The property was located at the top of a cliff overlooking the lake. The building was of modern design with curved swirling walls and long rectangular windows. Around the building, was twenty acres of wooded area, and a ten-foot-tall barred fence along the perimeter. The patrons of the club appear to prefer their privacy.

  Detective Harris had given me the security pass for club after our meeting. The pass was an expensive silver and gold chain bracelet with a microchip inside. I was honestly expecting the pass to be a card or something, but I guessed bracelets were considered less tacky for women to walk around with in a gentlemen’s club.

  I attached the bracelet to my wrist.

  I still wasn’t going to go through the front door though. If I could find one, I would use a back entrance to get inside. That way, I could draw as little attention to myself when moving around the building. The less people that saw me, the better. If I could help it, this mission would strictly be, get in, get out.

  As I approached the fence, I willed the bars to bend, opening a hole for me to step through, then willed them closed again once I was inside. I was wearing my bright pink athletic top and black spandex shorts, as I had jogged here, but quickly changed the colour of my clothes to match the surroundings. Continuing, I made my way through the wooded brush until I could get a clear view of the building, although not so close that someone would notice me.