SUPERPOWERED: Are YOU a Superhero or Supervillain? (Click Your Poison Book 3)

by James Schannep

  Nick grins. “It’s a pretty fucking big town. Besides, I’m headed back to campus.”

  * * *

  You wake up the next morning and walk into your bathroom. Looking back from the mirror is someone with glowing, healthy, unblemished skin. Arms firm and muscular (though not necessarily bulky) and jaw squared; gaunt. You barely recognize yourself in the mirror. With morbid curiosity, you lift your shirt and inspect your stomach—it’s firm, with six-pack abs and sculpted oblique muscles. The abs ripple and your stomach growls fiercely. Damn, already? Time to eat whatever’s left in the house, and then take the world head-on. You’re going to:

  • Head to the Casino buffet. Then I’d “wager” that I can break into the money cage. Get it? Wager? By that, I mean I’m going to rob the place.

  • Easiest thing to do: Punch open the back wall of the bank and make a withdrawal.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Kings and Pawns

  “I admit I was impressed by your declaration of divinity,” Nick says. “Hell, you gave me the idea to use my powers to walk on water, make people think I was the Second Coming. Gods-among-the-people sounded like a pretty fantastic plan to me, but now that you’re just another ant, why should I help you?”

  “I…because I’d be in your debt. Force Catherine to give me back my powers. With my help, there’s no limit to what you can achieve.”

  Nick lifts his palm and Catherine’s head rises to face him in response. “Is it possible? Can you give The Roman the powers of a god once more?”

  He releases her and she nods.

  Several police patrol cars pull up on the other side of the crater, down the street. They’re focused on the Kobayashi Building, but soon their attention will turn toward the three of you.

  “We don’t have much time,” you say. “We can still have gods-among-the-people, Nick. What do you say?”

  “Okay, do it. Reverse the process,” Nick says to Catherine.

  “It’s not that simple. I need my equipment back home. Can you fly us there?”

  Nick shakes his head “Nope. Too much weight. Let’s hoof it outta here.”

  * * *

  The interior of her trailer-park home has been completely gutted and reformed into a makeshift laboratory. Not even the kitchen appliances were spared. Every square inch is used for gadgetry and experimentation, except for the couch and TV. She saved those for her kid, who’s staying at his grandparents’ (until she defeated you, Catherine explains).

  Catherine works through the night and when you wake up the next morning, she’s still going at it. The kitchen bar-top counter is covered in sketched plans, worked-out formulae, and handwritten notes.

  “What the hell is taking so long?” Nick says.

  “You stole my genius!” she screams. “I’m back to my normal technologically-challenged self.”

  “How do you know it’s even possible, then?”

  “All of this!” she screams, pointing splayed hands at the papers.

  “You wrote yourself an instruction manual?” you ask.

  She nods. “And it worked last time; it just takes me a while to reverse the polarity on Widowsilk.”

  “The rifle’s called Widowsilk?” you ask.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Nick says. “You’ve done this before?”

  “Of course. I had to know it worked, and I was short on volunteers.” She shows off the rash on her forearm and adds, “I’m used to a few side-effects by now. And I was working faster this time around, before you got in my hair. Why don’t you go watch TV or something?”

  You take a seat next to Nick on the couch and he flips on the TV with his telekinesis. Mayor Argyle is holding a press conference and you’ve caught him in the middle. He’s saying, “…a menace. There cannot be equality while there are those who are more equal than others. So, it is with a heavy heart that I must declare martial law. These so-called ‘supers’ are public enemy number one, wanted for war crimes, and if spotted, should be….”

  “War crimes?” Nick repeats. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

  “I think our living god’s human-bomb-drop on the street might have something to do with it,” Catherine says from the kitchen.

  You hear your name on TV. Your real name. Not Roman or anything else—they know who you are. This snaps your attention back to the TV, where the news footage is now on the mayor’s daughter, reporter Alison Argyle. She continues, “…along with Nikolai Dorian, and Catherine Woodall. We’ve confirmed reports that their families are being placed in protective custody. Ms. Woodall’s son is already safely under police protection.”

  “WHAT?!” Catherine turns beet-red and her eyes shimmer with rage. Oh, boy.

  “Focus!” Nick cries. “How long do you think it’ll be before they check here? We got lucky. They had to deal with a human-bomb going off, but they’ll come for us next.”

  “I think it’s already ‘next,’” you say, looking at several patrol cars outside the window.

  Catherine rushes to the back of the trailer and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  “Shit, what are we going to do?” Nick says.

  “I don’t have any powers!” you cry. “But I think…”

  • “You need to use your powers, Nick. Distract them so we can run to fight another day!”

  • “Catherine may not be a super-genius anymore, but maybe we can still use some of these gadgets?”

  • “We should just give ourselves up. They’re looking for superhumans, so I can always claim it’s a case of mistaken identity, right?”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Kissing Cousins

  You lunge forward and passionately kiss yourself. It’s a long and deep embrace that strangely reminds you of when you practiced kissing your hand in middle school.

  “Who the hell are you?” the Experi-mentor demands.

  You answer, but it’s directed toward your gender-bender doppelganger. “I’m you. The opposite-sex version of you, come from another universe. We need to hook up—for science. Think of it as the ultimate masturbation!”

  “Nicole, call campus security!” the Experi-mentor shouts.

  Catherine—err, Kenneth—shoves you away and cracks his knuckles. “Get the fuck out of here, pervert!”

  You cast one last look at your other self, but “Woody” picks up a lead pipe and steps toward you. Looks like you’re not to be star-crossed lovers with yourself. Not today, anyway.

  Better rush back to the nuclear reactor and take your frustrations to a different world. A world where:

  • There are no superpowered humans on the planet. You could do a lot of good for that world (or rule it) without fear of anyone exposing the secret to your genius.

  • There was never an explosion. Perhaps you can find the pods that gave you your powers and study them!

  • Science has stopped the aging process. As an immortal, you’ll be able to spend eternity exploring all the infinite possibilities!

  • Mankind hasn’t destroyed the environment. Why not spend a little time in a lush utopia and see what knowledge you might bring back home?

  • You chose a different pod in the experiment. Why not commune with other genii and see yourself with different superpowers?

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Legendary

  “Catherine! This guy’s only a garden-variety genius, but you’re a super-genius. That means we can beat him, right?”

  A light flickers on behind her eyes. “Okay, I’ve got a plan.”

  “Already? Does your brain have super-speed too?”

  “Nick!” she cries. “Let’s make it rain. Once you can see him, go for my gun.”

  Nick looks up at the dusty rafters and gets it. He closes his eyes, raises a hand, and the roof starts to shudder. Fifty years of bat guano rains from the ceiling.

  “DISGUSTING!!!” roars the Experi-monster, flailing his tentacles. Though he’s otherwise invisible, you can see him as he displaces the guano dust.

  Cather
ine says, “Droakam, do we have more foam? He has to maintain some solid form in order to hold my weapon. Let’s make him stick with it.”

  “What is it about genius that makes you love puns?” the agent complains. “I’m on it, we’ve got plenty.”

  “All right, WMD, as soon as Droakam deploys his foam, take Grendel’s arm there and finish this.”

  “Won’t that just make more of him?” Agent Droakam asks.

  “Leave that to me. Ready? Move!”

  “Freeeeedddoooommm!!!” cries Nick as he flies forward and pulls the gun.

  The Experi-mentor whips a super-speedy tentacle at the airborne college student, but Agent Droakam is already in mid-spray, and the sticky foam envelops the monster. Man, he’s got that timing down pat. The tentacles freeze in place.

  Right on cue, you leap forward with the enormous sword and behead the supervillain.

  “Venom!” Catherine cries, bringing her middle and ring fingers to touch the palm of her tech-glove.

  The Experi-mentor immediately starts to heal, making a double of himself from the head, but the flying bot erupts a white-hot pulse of plasma at both exposed neck wounds, cauterizing their openings. This scars the tissue and tricks the superpowered cells into thinking the healing process is complete.

  The Experi-mentor’s grotesque head stares up at you, eyes wide and lips seeking to speak or breathe. You all stare in silence, not quite comprehending that you just won.

  “I’m putting that head in a glass case on my desk,” Agent Droakam finally says.

  “And the body?” asks Nick.

  “I’ll be able to study it,” Catherine says.

  “Does that mean you’re joining us?” you ask. “Will you be our Lady Liberty?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of going by Suffragette.”

  Droakam smiles. “The heroine who fights for the weak and disenfranchised. I like it.”

  “So what now?” Nick says.

  Your stomach growls fiercely, a hungry monster in its own right. You smile, brows raised, and shrug. Everyone laughs.

  • Head out and get some shawarma!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Libertarian

  “‘Bring me in?’ I’d like to see you try,” she laughs. “I never had you pegged for a government crony.”

  “We’re a team! And with the three of us working together, we could do a lot of good in the world.”

  She shakes her head. “Sorry, I’ve already got a team. It’s been my son and me versus the world for a long time, only now it’s finally a fair fight. I can see why you’d want my help, but—no offense—I’m not so sure I need yours.”

  “What’s your plan? Rescue people and steal money? Robin Hood, is it?”

  She puts her hands on her hips. “I’m not sure I like your tone. I suggest you leave before I get angry.”

  • “I don’t think I’d like you when you’re angry, so I’ll go, but I’ll leave you this phone in case you change your mind. Best of luck taking on the whole world.”

  • “You’ll be singing a different tune if Agent Droakam manages to reproduce the experiment results!”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Light of Life

  You lead the robot to the top of the lighthouse—outside to the walker’s watch—where the sun has just begun to rise. Perfect timing.

  The robot examines you closely, most likely observing the gooseflesh that forms under the cold sea breeze. It follows your arm as you point out to the horizon.

  “This is the sun, the star our planet orbits, the source of all life on Earth. Even yours—without the sun, you could have never come into being.”

  “I see,” is all the robot says, though you get the feeling there’s a deeper meaning behind the statement.

  You watch the sunrise, with occasional glances over toward your robot companion. At length, it speaks again. “I am glad you brought me up here. To instill the importance of beauty and the sanctity of life. I understand why you’ve limited me to a humanoid form as well. I shall learn from this phase of my existence.”

  “I’m glad you think so….” you trail off, wanting to say a name, but realizing the machine doesn’t have one yet.

  • That seems like a logical next step….

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Like a Boss

  “It—it’s nearly midnight,” she stammers. “Should I go wake them?”

  “No, I suppose it is late. Let’s all meet first thing in the morning.”

  She nods furiously and turns to leave.

  “Oh, and Su-Young,” you call out. “Go ahead and keep my casino winnings for yourself. Consider it a signing bonus as my new liaison to the Planet Mercury staff.”

  Su-Young considers this for a moment, then simply says, “Thank you.”

  “And have someone come up and clear out these two,” you say, indicating the unconscious goons.

  Su-Young nods, then leaves. You should get some rest—you’re exhausted from the day’s events—but the thought, the feeling, of flying is too exhilarating. Ever since man first laid eyes on the birds in the sky, there’s been a jealous coveting of the fact that they can fly. Now you’re the first human capable of independent flight.

  You leap out the window, grasp your body with your mind and carry yourself through the air with the power of thought. Arms spread out wide like a bird or a plane, you soar through the air, high up over the buildings. Moonlight glints off Mercury Bay in the distance.

  This is amazing! Far beyond exhilarating. Whatever fear of heights you may have had in the past melts away under the feeling of complete control. You fly around for another hour before mental exhaustion sets in.

  * * *

  The next morning, you enjoy room service while Su-Young introduces Jorge Halifax (your head of security) and Luther Stockton (the floor operations manager). Halifax is slim, 50ish, bronze-skinned with coal-black hair—combed back for the “mobster” look. Stockton is a tall, muscular black man of similar age who wears his head shaved and has a thin mustache. A poor man’s Idris Elba.

  Both seem somewhat peeved by Su-Young’s evident promotion, but once you inform them of their own respective pay raises, it would seem that any feud has been smoothed over. They wait for you to give your name, but you decline.

  “Sheriff will do fine,” you suggest, tugging the brim of Bloodnight’s ten-gallon hat. “Now, on to business; what’s first?”

  “Bruce and Bruno are recovering from minor concussions,” Halifax informs.

  “Who?”

  “The security guards,” Su-Young elaborates.

  “Those are their real names?” you laugh. “Very well, give the bruisers a month’s pay for their trouble. What else?”

  Stockton clears his throat. “All due respect, Sheriff, I can appreciate your greasing the wheels as the new head of state, but our current budget can’t handle this much…loose spending.”

  “Don’t worry,” you say, sinking into the fine leather of the penthouse sofa, “casino profits are only one part of the plan. Soon, I’ll have this whole city in my pocket. And I always reward my loyal friends.”

  Your three advisors smile.

  “Speaking of which, how is my takeover being relayed by the PR staff?”

  Su-Young flips on the penthouse television to the local news. There on-screen is blonde eye-candy reporter Alison Argyle, sitting at the news desk and speaking directly into the camera. The news-ticker reads, “CASINO BOSS BLOODNIGHT’S DEATH RULED SUICIDE.”

  “…friends have expressed shock, but those closest to Bloodnight say the man lived his life to such extremes that such an end might—”

  Su-Young interrupts and says, “No mention of you yet, Sheriff, but we may want to do some sort of memorial service for your predecessor.”

  You nod and wave away the topic, turning back to the two men.

  “Bloodnight liked to be involved in security,” Halifax says.

  “Yes, I’m aware.”

  Halifax runs a hand over his slic
ked-back hair. “Right, uhhh, well—I was just wondering if you, Sheriff, had plans to continue that, uhhh…”

  “Is there a security problem?” you ask.

  “Some kid, we’re pretty sure he’s counting cards,” Stockton supplies.

  “Right,” Halifax says, “Normally we’d just rough him up a little, teach him a lesson and send him packing, but with the high rollers the boss liked to—”

  “How much has he won?” you ask.

  “He’s up to half a mil,” Stockton says.

  “He’s here, now?”

  Su-Young switches the input on the television to the security feed on the casino floor. She taps her tablet’s screen in a few key places, and the image of Nick—the college student from yesterday’s experiment—shows up on-screen with a fat stack of poker chips before him.

  He’s playing blackjack at the $10,000 table and he’s doing very, very well.

  • “I don’t want to see him; handle it your way.”

  • “Send him up.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Like a Jedi*

  “Diamond, take him out!” you shout. Thinking quickly, you power-down the lightsaber and toss it to Catherine.

  She nods, catches and powers-up the weapon, then sprints at the Experi-mentor. Ice crystals climb up her legs, but shatter. Fire engulfs her form like a summer breeze. Even the electricity doesn’t stop her completely. She winces in pain and her muscles seize, but she makes a flying leap across the room, removing the current between her boots and the ground and rendering the electric attack moot.

  With the lightsaber held high, Diamond soars through the air, ready to stab down through the force field and stop the Experi-mentor. But the mad scientist has one more trick up his sleeve.

  All at once the elemental attacks stop, and as fast as his hands can move, he flings plasma bolts at the mighty hero coming at him. Not actually possessing The Force, Catherine fails to deflect the attacks. What once had only winged her now blasts fully into her torso.