The Supervillainy Saga (Book 7): The Horror of Supervillainy

by Phipps, C. T.

  “You get hit all the time,” Jane said, putting her hands on her waist. “Don’t act like it’s a big deal.”

  “I just got my ass kicked by a Lich-Wight, so I’m feeling particular,” I said.

  “There’s no such thing as a Lich-Wight,” David said, flying around in a circle above us like a vulture. “That was a Greater Zombie at best. Maybe a Higher Revenant.”

  “You shut up,” I said, pointing at the raven.

  Jane did a double take at the talking raven then shrugged. “Eh, it’s not like I haven’t seen weirder. Are you a wereraven?”

  “Pfft!” David said, offended. “As if I would be something so lame. The only shifters that have any dignity are werewolves and weresheep.”

  “Weresheep?” I asked.

  “They’ll pull the wool over your eyes,” David said, nodding his head. “Every time.”

  “Ugh,” Jane said, “and I thought I made bad puns.”

  “You do. Also, how are you back?” I asked, simultaneously elated, and confused. “You got sent back to your home dimension by an evil wizard impersonating me!”

  Jane stared. “Uh-huh.”

  “Okay, it was me who sent you back,” I said, sighing. “I was terrified you were going to get killed fighting Tom Terror.”

  Jane and I had shared many adventures together while she was here inside my world. Time passed differently between parallel realities so while she was projecting herself through time and space at a sweat lodge on her world, she got to spend an entire year with me and her cybernetic lover Case. I called it “Narnia Time.” The thing was that events had gotten deadlier and deadlier until I was pretty sure they would get her and Case killed. I’d then made the unilateral decision to use my orbs—which isn’t a euphemism—to return them to their respective universes. In the end, it had cost me my best friends and done little to ensure their safety if what I’d seen of their worlds was any indication. Seriously, both came from planets every bit as dangerous as mine and we regularly had a giant space god try to eat our sun.

  “You could have asked,” Jane said. “Case and I were ready to fight beside you.”

  “And maybe die,” I replied, feeling sick to my stomach. “I was sick of losing my friends. Still, I reiterate, how are you back?”

  “I don’t think that’s ever something you get used to,” Jane replied. “In any case, I have no idea how I’m back.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  Jane put her enchanted gun away in a holster sewn into her jacket’s interior. “I’m saying I don’t know how I ended up in Comic Book World—”

  “Please don’t call it that, Urban Fantasy Worlder,” I replied. “I’m from Earth-A, you’re from Earth-USOM. Don’t ask me who made these designations or why I get to be the first letter. Because then I’d have to say it’s because I’m the one giving the designations.”

  “Do you want to hear what I know or not?” Jane asked. “I’d like to learn how I got back here myself and, Goddess help me, you’re the most knowledgeable wizard I know in this dimension.”

  “Man, you are screwed,” I said. “My doctorate in magical studies is from a correspondence course via the University of Bangladesh. Which would not be so bad if not for the fact that it is from their Cleveland, Ohio campus. A campus which consists of a storage unit and internet router.”

  “Gary—” Jane started to speak.

  “I think you can refer to me as Doctor Merciless now,” I said. “Man, Cindy screwed up bothering to take actual classes and getting accredited. The internet can sell you everything you need to know about supervillainy doctorates.”

  “Gary!” Jane said.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I also have an honorary degree in supervillainy from Londonium University of Evil. Which is a real campus and that bothers me more than you could know. I would never take a degree from a university that would graduate me. Except, you know, the one from where I actually graduated. If only because Falconcrest U taught me such valuable skills as casual hookups, beer pong, and coding.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “One day I was just driving my Hummer—”

  “You have a Hummer?” I asked. “Way to protect the environment, Deergirl. Those things consume two gallons per mile.”

  “They’re also indestructible and it was a gift from my granddad,” Jane snapped. “Anyway, I ended up driving into some fog and I emerged outside of Falconcrest City, which pointedly does not exist in my world. You replace New Detroit and Chicago.”

  “We have a Chicago,” I replied. “That’s the little port city with the really good pizza. Al Capone used to use it to smuggle whiskey into South Falconcrest.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here about a month trying to figure out how to get back.”

  I opened my mouth in horror. “You’ve been back here a month? And you didn’t contact me?”

  Jane stared at me.

  “Oh right, I sent you back to Kansas with your little dog too,” I replied.

  “No, Emma didn’t come with me,” Jane muttered. “I admit, I was pretty mad at you, Gary. I’ve only been able to keep up with your adventures by reading the comics about them in my world. It’s pretty damned expensive even if I only buy them digitally. You and Cindy have like eight series between you. It’d be easier to follow what Spider-Man and Batman are up to.”

  I blinked. “You know, I’m never going to get used to the fact I’m a fictional character in your world.”

  “Ditto,” Jane said, shaking her head. “I read the entire Bright Falls Mysteries books while I was your world and that C.T. Phipps guy is creepy in his insights.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He wrote my biography and it’s just full of errors.”

  “Anyway, I tried to get in touch with you but couldn’t. I’ve been traveling with the Society of Superheroes Dark and their kind of nonstop evil fighting adventures.”

  “Society of Superheroes Dark?” I asked.

  “Yeah, they’re the branch of the Society of Superheroes that deals with occult happenings,” Jane said. “Nightgirl, Mr. Inventor, Black Witch, Human Tank, John Henry Booth, and Mercury.”

  “And they couldn’t come up with a better name?” I asked, knowing most of the people on that team. “Also, why the hell am I not on that team?”

  “Because no sane person would have you on a team?” David suggested. “A joke would have been way funnier if you hadn’t already done it with your universities joke. Leave some comic material for the rest of us.”

  I glared at him. “No one asked you, Bird Brain.”

  “Bird Brain, really?” David said, looking at me with pity in his beady little eyes.

  “They can’t all be winners,” I muttered. “So, if you’re traveling around doing the superhero thing, why come to me now?”

  “Realities are merging,” Jane said, pointing to the dust where the Nightwalker used to be. “That guy, there, was actually the Nightwalker from the Zombies vs. Amazing! comics crossover event. In his universe, all the heroes were turned into Lich-Wights by the Wicked Witch of the Westside. They killed everyone and devoured the rest of the universe. It was so damn depressing, you’d think Garth Ennis wrote it.”

  “Ha!” I said, pointing at David. “I told you Lich-Wights were real.”

  “Their reality got unmade in the—” Jane started to say but my attention was already wavering.

  “Hold on, I need to upload this to CrimeTube,” I said, taking a moment to turn my cellphone around. “Wassup, CrimeTubers! It’s the Supervillain without Mercy, Grandmaster M, Merciless with the less-ness! I just hooked up with my main gal here, Weredeer, and we just trounced a Lich-Wight version of the Nightwalker from another dimension!”

  Jane blinked. “Please don’t say we hooked up. Ever. Also, I’m sure that’s no way anyone over thirty should talk. Anyone under it should be smacked for it.”

  I ignored her. “Remember folks, I’m doing the hero thang and saving the day! Team-up central! More vibes coming as we work on untanglin
g where this unhappy Deadite came from! I have another mission I’m working on too but it’s hush-hush for now! Ya dig!”

  “Literally, no one in the world talks like that except maybe guys on MTV reruns,” Jane replied. “I also may classify it as racist against white people.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned off my cellphone. “Listen, CrimeTube is the only way I can promote myself as a superhero. People think of me as a supervillain and the only way I can reach out to them is social media.”

  Jane stared at me. “You opened up by describing yourself as a supervillain.”

  I blinked. “Goddammit.”

  “I’m also processing the fact you have a YouTube, sorry, CrimeTube, channel,” Jane said. “Can’t you do something normal with that channel like review video games or insult women and minorities for ruining science fiction?”

  “In addition to promoting the Merciless brand, I also review old episodes of Murder, She Wrote,” I said, proudly. “Do you know that if we catalog the number of episodes set in Cabot Cove and assume that they took place over the same period of time as the series that Jessica Fletcher’s hometown has a higher murder rate than Baghdad?”

  Jane stared at me then shook her head. “The horrifying thing is that I actually find that interesting. What’s your channel called?”

  “Merciless’ Big-Ass CrimeTube Channel,” I said. “I used to review gangster movies but not everyone appreciated how I laughed through most of them. I still don’t know how anyone takes the ending of Scarface seriously. Dude didn’t have any superpowered security whatsoever? Come on.”

  “Of course,” Jane muttered. “Now, Gary, I need to talk to you. Introduce you to the SOSD. You think you can do that?”

  I nodded. “Sure, sure. There are some universal laws and one of them is that I owe you for saving my ass. The Lich-Wight would have swallowed my soul if not for you. That means that an oath of fealty is needed.”

  “That’s not necessary,” Jane said, perhaps knowing I was going to make a big deal out of this.

  “The Gungan and Wookies both speak of the Life Debt with great reverence,” I said. “I shall now have to be your co-pilot and best friend until you’re horribly murdered by your son because Harrison Ford hates Han Solo.”

  “Kylo Ren,” Jane said, getting a dreamy look in her air. “So hot yet so lame.”

  “I do need a second to repair all my broken bones, though,” I said, not actually joking. I hadn’t even noticed how much damage the Crimson Bands of Zul-Barbas had done to me until now. One of the benefits of the Reaper’s Cloak, the one I made with the Death Orb to replace my old one, was a heavy resistance to pain. “I’ve got a punctured lung, three cracked ribs, and my ankle is shattered.”

  Jane stared. “How the hell are you not screaming? How the buck did you do a podcast?”

  I grimaced and lifted one of my cloak’s sleeves. “I’ve sussed out about eighty percent of what the Reaper’s Cloak can do, which is more than Lancel Warren did. Now I can take a beating and keep on ticking.”

  “That commercial hasn’t been on in decades,” David said. “Find some newer material.”

  He had me there. “Now I can take a beating and get up to take even more of a beating.”

  “Better,” David said.

  Jane blinked rapidly. “Your cloak only suppress the pain but not heals the injuries? Wait, no, then you’d be useless. Do you regenerate it like Wolverine, or do I need to take you to a hospital?”

  “Wolverines regenerate in your world?” I asked, not getting the reference if reference it was.

  Jane sighed. “I am never going to get used to the fact that everything is the same in your world except comics.”

  I reached into my cloak’s extra-dimensional pockets and pulled out a bunch of spiral notebooks as well as a couple of yellow pads. “As for regenerating? No. I’m just going to cast Cure Serious Wounds a couple of times using the MMOS.”

  “I’m going to regret asking this but what?” Jane asked, walking closer. “Also, you look like you’re studying for finals and have lost your laptop.”

  “The Merciless Magical Operating System,” I said, flipping through the documents. “Have you ever noticed that when you need to cast a spell, you have to invoke a bunch of ancient gods and/or have a bloodline that dates back thousands of years?”

  “Being as I’m a wizard, yes,” Jane said. “Well, shaman technically.”

  “Well, that system is busted,” I replied. “Magic could be used for so much more than just tossing fireballs in the name of Yog-Sothoth or Cthulhu. So, I’ve decided to create an open-source system.”

  Jane stared at me like I’d grown three heads and started breathing fire. “Open-source magic.”

  David reappeared by flying up on a nearby parking meter. “That sounds simultaneously awesome and stupid at the same time.”

  “Oh, hey,” I gestured. “Jane, this is David Niall Wilson. David, this is Jane Doe.”

  “Like the guy who publishes the Supervillainy Saga books in my world?” Jane asked. “He’s not a raven there.”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. I’m still surprised the husband of Supreme Court Justice Michelle Obama was the president in your world.”

  “Yeah, I miss him,” Jane sighed. “Anyway, Gary, there’s no way to create an open-source magic system. Magic is a raw, primeval, chaotic force that we can only channel because gods—i.e. the most powerful beings in the universe—serve as a medium between us. They purify and detox the raw chaotic stuff into something we mere mortals can harness in exchange for our prayers empowering them. Even then, it’s limited because there’s not so much power in prayer that most gods can exchange—”

  I threw up the horns with my fingers and shouted, “CURE SERIOUS WOUNDS! CURE SERIOUS WOUNDS! CURE SERIOUS WOUNDS!”

  A glow appeared around me as I felt my bones knit back together while the internal damage healed itself. It turned out my injuries were a lot more extensive than I thought and would need more spell work. If not for Jane and my magic, I’d have most assuredly died.

  Jane stared at me. “I’m not sure what confuses me most: that you actually have created open-source magic or that you needed to look just reciting the spell’s name three times while throwing up the horns.”

  I shrugged and cast the spell again before answering. “Why make magic difficult?”

  “Because it’s a universal cosmic force and you don’t want every idiot to be able to harness it?” David answered for Jane. “I mean, bad enough that someone like you has access to it.”

  “I resemble that remark,” I said, doing the spell a third time and finishing up my healing. “In any case, there’s some limits on the MMOS. I must individually inscribe each spell into the laws of the Multiverse using the Primal Orbs before they’ll work. I’ve only got about half of the latest edition of Dungeons and Dragons’ core book spells. They’re limited to ninth level, though. No epic level stuff. I mean, I’m not stupid.”

  David covered his face with a wing then shook his head behind it. Apparently, not everyone here agreed with my plan to make sorcery something the common ordinary citizen of the multiverse could use.

  Jane just opened her mouth and closed it for a few seconds. After going through a variety of reactions, she sighed. “I don’t suppose you have a spell book for this. I’m kind of terrible at magic.”

  I reached into my robes and pulled out a copy of The Book of Merciless’ Madness: 5th Edition. “Here ya go. It’s also available on Drive Thru Tabletop and Amazing Books’ Print on Demand service.”

  “My aunt always said RPGs would corrupt my soul. I guess she was right.” Jane took the book and started flipping through it. “Why does every page have naked elves?”

  “I don’t understand your question,” I said. “Anyway, I wonder what the archwizards and gods will give me for democratizing magic.”

  “A horse’s head in your bed?” David suggested.

  I looked up at him. “Honestly? Probably. If they’re feeling genero
us. I have no illusions this is going to go over like anything other than a lead balloon.”

  “Then why do it?” Jane asked, still flipping through the book.

  I shrugged. “I’m an anarchist. I have issues with authority. Even when it’s my own. It’s why the worst thing that could ever happen to me would be to successfully take over the world.”

  “Says the guy altering the laws of physics,” Jane said. “Well, meta-physics. You’re aware that magic is supposed to be hard, right?”

  “Is it?” I asked. “I’m a terrible wizard. Harry Potter could beat me up and take my lunch money. However, I do kind of have a pair of magic rocks that contain infinite power. Oh and a bunch of objects given to me by Death herself. I should probably stop using them for trivial projects.”

  “Ya think?” Jane asked.

  “As soon as I finish my next trivial project: making the stars spell out my name!”

  Jane and David stared at me.

  “I’m kidding,” I said. “Probably. I mean, it would only work from specific parts of the universe. I’d get a lot more oomph out of moving galaxies. Which I understand from my orbs that I could do but it would take two billion years of charging.”

  “Ugh,” Jane said.

  “Well, you’ve got the orbs for it I guess,” David said. “A real pair of ’em.”

  “Wait ’til ya hear my wand jokes,” I said.

  Jane proceeded to grab me by my arm and start dragging me. “Come on, Gary, we need your help to save the Multiverse!”

  “Again?” I said. “I just got done saving the Multiverse a year ago!”

  “Well, it needs saving again!” Jane said, pulling hard.

  “No, you can’t make me!” I said, pulling against her. Unfortunately, the shifter was much stronger than me and was dragging me away by inches.

  “Your daughters need help!” Jane shouted.

  I stopped resisting immediately.

  Chapter Five

  Only I Can Save the Multiverse… Again

  Jane and I headed to my car that was, thankfully, parked in the parking garage across the street and wasn’t destroyed by the fire that had eradicated my place of business. Jane was, of course, impressed by my replacement for the Merciless Mobile.