by Derek Ailes
“Come on, buddy, I was just helping out. Taking care of the criminals so you guys have less to worry about.”
“And leaving a trail of bodies in the process.”
“Collateral damage?”
“Mace, grow up.”
“Lighten up.” Mace playfully punched Stable’s chest, breaking his hand in the process. “Ouch!”
Stable gave him a disapproving look.
I bet I can get a lot of money taking his metallic corpse to a scrap yard. Mace laughed at the thought.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“Stable, the perimeter is clear. No hostiles. Well, none of them alive,” a short teenage girl with short, glowing, spiked pink hair said as she approached them.
“And who is this cutie?”
“Cutie?” she remarked angrily.
“This is Psychotic Menacing Schoolgirl.”
“Psychotic Menacing Schoolgirl?” Mace questioned, sarcastically. “Who comes up with these names?”
“I came up with it myself,” she replied proudly.
“You do know what your initials are,” Mace pointed out.
“Enough!” Stable shouted. “Mace, you are an adult! Act like one.”
“Act like one,” Mace repeated sarcastically.
“That’s it. I am tired of this,” Stable said and cold cocked Mace, shattering his jaw in the process. Mace was flung backward crashing into a small SUV, the force of his impact causing an Undead Pool shaped dent in its hood. “That should keep him quiet for a while. Now let’s clean up his mess.”
Chapter Two
Mace slowly opened his eyes. He was no longer on the bridge. He was lying on a black leather couch inside a large room surrounded by book cases. On the back wall was a giant, metallic, round symbol with a large emblem of a creature with a confused look on its face. He looked out the window and watched a bunch of young superheroes walking around in plaid school uniforms. He knew where he was and he was pissed. He was at Zagar’s School For Special Power Needs that was a home and sanctuary for superheroes and some possible future supervillains.
“I see you’ve woken up,” a bald woman wearing a grey denim jacket said as her upper torso hovered above him. Professor Charlene Zagar lost her lower half when her protégé, Dark Moler, sliced it off with an energy sword several years back. Using her strong mental abilities, she could move her remaining half about with her mind.
“Charlene, it’s been a long time. You’re looking good,” Mace said, trying not to look directly at her.
“Mace, if you want to stare at me, go ahead. I’m used to it.”
“You know you can have robotic legs installed or at least sit in a wheelchair so people are more comfortable being around you. People would refer to you as wheels instead of stumpy.”
“Stable is right. You do need to grow up.”
“Growth, never my thing.”
“If you were to join the WHY-Men, we could teach you how to be a very productive, and less destructive, superhero.”
“No thanks. Undead Pool is a one man…”
“Wrecking machine,” the professor finished.
“Exactly. I don’t need anyone’s help. I’m fine all by myself.”
“What happened in your childhood that made you so angry?” The professor closed her eyes and mentally entered Mace’s mind. “I see a young boy walking out of a theater with his parents. There is a man with a gun.” The professor looked at Mace with a disapproving look. “Really?”
“In every origin story Bruce loses his parents. It’s kind of expected. Go back into my brain. I have a cool one with gamma rays.”
“I guess you really are a lost cause.”
“Guilty.”
“We can’t have you going about causing any more chaos.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. If you give me a ship and a couple of mutated beings to help me kill Zarathustra, I will go out of my way to keep the collateral damage to a tiny minimum,” Mace promised as he crossed his fingers behind his back.
“I can see that.”
“You can see through my body?”
“No, there’s a mirror behind you.”
Mace turned around and waved at his reflection.
“We will help you defeat Zarathustra in return for your help on some of our deadliest missions.”
“I will agree if you can answer me one question.”
“Which is?”
“How do you go to the bathroom? You have no lower half. Is it like a phantom pee or something?”
“Mace, you do need to grow up.”
“So, I’ve been told.”
“Follow me. You will need some better weapons than your two ancient swords.”
“Seriously, how do you pee?”
Mace followed the professor down a long, metallic corridor. The end of the corridor split off into two directions. One way led to the professor’s chamber and the other lead to the weapons vault. Even though he wanted to sneak down the other way and see the professor’s quarters to discover some of her secrets, he reluctantly followed her toward the weapons vault. Another day.
The vault was the size of a massive warehouse filled with many imaginable and unimaginable weapons. Drool ran down Mace’s chin as each weapon he passed became bigger and bigger and bigger causing him to have a similar response. There were blades of all shapes and sizes and machine guns that only the largest superhuman could lift. Sitting on a large, stone pedestal was a large hammer with foreign symbols etched all over it. Mace grabbed its handle and easily lifted it above his head.
“I am worthy,” Mace shouted as the professor stared at him in shock.
He placed the hammer back on its pedestal and ran excitedly toward the adjacent marble pedestal where a metallic disk, the size of a belt buckle, had caught his attention. “Is this a…”
“Yes, it’s a transportation device. It can transport the bearer several feet. It is handy during combat, but unfortunately it causes brain tumors to form. Not recommended for use.”
As she walked forward, Mace said “Claim,” and placed the device in his pants where she wouldn’t notice. Besides, with his regenerative powers, he doubted brain tumors would be an issue for him.
As they passed the weapons, he spotted glass cases holding items you would expect to see in a museum. There was the Mona Lisa, several Egyptian artifacts, other paintings he wasn’t familiar with and a brain encased in liquid surrounded by a protective casing. His stomach began to growl.
“Whose brain is that?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. All I can tell you is that it belonged to a former president.”
As she continued forward, he stood by the casing mesmerized by the brain, his stomach growling and his lips salivating. He was still a zombie and he had a need to devour it. Looking around to make sure no one was watching him, he lifted the case and grabbed the brain. He stared at it trying to decide if he should eat it or not. His hunger for the brain was too much for him to bare and he took a bite out of it. He chewed it for a minute not sure if he was enjoying it or if he was going to throw up.
All of a sudden, he was stuck in a trance. He was becoming one with the brain and witnessing the final moments of the brain’s life. He was in Dealey Plaza in Dallas, Texas, sitting in an open vehicle in the middle of a presidential motorcade. He turned to look at the woman next to him, and his eyes widened when he realized it was Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.
“Mace, what did you do!” the professor screamed.
He was knocked out of the trance and looked at the professor in shock. “I know who really killed JFK.”
“Whatever! Come! We need to find you the perfect weapon.”
“Will the weapon choose me like the wand in Harry Potter?”
“You spend a lot time alone, don’t you?”
“The television and movie references will keep coming; I have a lot of pages to fill,” Mace promised her.
The professor stopped next to a tall, muscular man who looked like a model from a blue jean commercial, but was wearing a white lab coat and holding a large machine gun.
“This is the developer of all our weapons. GQ, say hello to Undead Pool.”
“I like the size of your weapon,” Mace said.
“It’s not the size of the weapon that’s impressive; it’s what it can do. Observe.”
Across the room were several turkeys running back and forth in a pen. GQ fired the machine gun and six of the turkeys disappeared.
“Where did they go?” Mace asked.
“They were completely erased from existence.”
“Let me try,” Mace said as he jerked the gun away from him. He fired the weapon and rid the pen of the rest of the turkeys. The weapon was too powerful, and he lost control firing at the Mona Lisa, erasing it from existence, and then the large hammer. The back wall was the final victim exposing a naked and muscular, tiger-like creature with a thick reddish beard who was sitting on a toilet while smoking a cigar and reading a comic book. He gave Mace a dirty look and then flicked him off with his middle wooden-spiked finger.
“I think that weapon’s too much for you,” GQ stated as he grabbed the weapon back.
“I love handguns.”
“A generic standard handgun, it is.”
“How about something that goes boom?”
“Maybe not,” the professor added.
“Now for my team.” Mace got on his knees and held his hands upward begging for the perfect superheroes to join him.
“You can have Stable and Psychotic Menacing Schoolgirl.”
“Just two.”
“Be thankful you’re getting them. For all our sakes, let’s get you out of the weapons vault.”
Mace stood behind a grocery cart. “I just need to grab a few things.” He pushed the cart forward and filled it with an assortment of weapons. “Hey, the next time you're at the checkout counter and you hear the beep, think of all the fun you can have on Supermarket Sweep!”
The professor led Mace down the corridor and into the living quarters where Stable was watching the news.
“Anything about my handiwork?” Mace asked as he plopped down on the couch next to Stable.
“Just a massive pileup due to an overturned semi-truck. We did an excellent job cleaning up after you.”
“And the bodies?”
“Victims from when an oil tanker exploded on the bridge.”
“And the dead clown zombies?”
“What dead clown zombies?” Stable asked, giving him a wink.
“I guess the next time I’ll have to bring my own cameraman so I can watch my handiwork over and over again.”
“You do realize if you didn’t have special powers, you would be locked away in a mental intuition right about now.”
“That’s ok, you get to chaperone me on my mission.”
“What!” Stable looked over at the professor who nodded. “There goes my night.”
“I would clear my whole calendar. This could take a while,” Mace informed him.
“What will take a while?” Psychotic Menacing Schoolgirl asked as she entered the room.
“You and metallic Mr. Ed get to help me kill Zarathustra.”
“Joy.”
“Let’s get going. I’ve always wanted to fly one of your ships.”
“No, Mace. You passenger. I pilot,” Stable said as he shoved Mace off the couch. “Come, Irene.”
“Wait! Your name is Irene? I don’t know what’s lamer, Psychotic Menacing Schoolgirl or Irene.”
Mace sat in the back of the large spaceship that reminded him of one of the shuttlecrafts from Star Trek, watching all the houses they passed. He yawned. He didn’t want to be sitting in the back like a dog on a joyride. He wanted to be piloting the ship. He put a piece of gum in his mouth and after blowing several bubbles, he took the gum out of his mouth and placed it on the back of Stable’s metallic head.
“So immature.” Irene flicked the piece of gum of his head.
Mace pulled out his smartphone and shouted in excitement.
“What’s wrong?” Stable asked.
“I didn’t realize what it day it was. We have to make a quick stop.”
“No!”
“Please!!!!!!!!!!! It’s important!”
“As long as it’s pertinent to the mission.”
“Trust me, it is.”
“Fine.”
“Hi, my name is Kathy. Welcome to Taco Bell. May I take your order?”
“Hi, Kathy. I want three chalupas, five tacos, two meximelts and a diet Pepsi,” Mace ordered excitedly. “Anything for you guys?”
They looked at him angrily and shook their heads no.
Mace stared at the reader and spoke. “Don’t worry, this isn’t copyright infringement. I never said it was Tuesday.”
Stable and Irene both slammed their right hands into their foreheads.
“Lawsuit it is,” Mace said apologetically, shrugging his shoulders.
After a hearty meal, with Mace telling them about the time he battled Tigernaut and his brother on top of a water cooling station at Three Mile Island, they headed to Zarathustra’s last known lair. Outside the lair five soldiers armed with machine guns patrolled its perimeter.
“Stable, what’s the plan?” Irene asked.
“First, we take out the guards,” Stable instructed.
“Easier said than done,” she returned.
“Leave the guards to me,” Mace said and walked toward the lair’s front gate.
“What’s he doing?” she asked.
“Whatever it is, it can’t be good.”
Mace grabbed the transporter device out of his pocket and attached it to his belt. As he approached the front gate, he pressed the red button on the front of it and transported himself onto the other side of the gate reappearing right behind one of the guards. The guard was startled, staring at Mace in disbelief.
“I bet you’re wondering why the grey and black suit,” Mace said as he chopped the guard’s head off with his sword. “That’s because red and black was already taken.”
He flung two Chinese stars to the right and cheered as they took out two more of the guards. He pressed the button again and reappeared behind the remaining two guards chopping their heads off in a single swoop of his katana. He placed their heads on the top of the katana like a Shish Kabob and waved them in the air signaling to the other two superheroes that the area was secured.
“For a sarcastic twerp, he’s one effective killer,” Irene pointed out.
“He’ll be the death of us one day.”
“Perhaps, but until that day, let’s have some fun.”
Mace opened the gate as they approached and led them toward the front door. He cautiously entered the lair and quickly killed the guards waiting to ambush them using his quick and deranged swordsmanship.
“There’s a loud humming noise coming from the right,” Stable pointed out.
Mace led them down the hallway in the direction of the sound. They could hear voices in the room where the humming was coming from. They cautiously entered the room leading to a large factory. Bottles filled with the glowing green serum, similar to the one that had been pumped into Mace, were going down an assembly line.
“Is that the stuff that made you superhuman?” Irene asked.
“Unfortunately, it is. They are manufacturing a lot of it. For what purpose, I’m not sure.” He smiled at Stable. “I have an idea.”
He pulled off his black gloves and placed them on a couple of bottles and watched as they went down the assembly line. Stable shrugged his shoulders confused.
“I’m just trying to make my dreams come true,” Mace said.
Irene grabbed one of the bottles and placed it in her pocket. “We need to get this analyzed.”
“I would suggest destroying this factory,” Stable said.
“Explosives it is
,” Mace said as he dropped a large bag of bombs at Stable’s feet.
“Where did you get those?”
“The same place where I got these.” Mace handed him a giant, rainbow colored sucker. “Place the bombs throughout the factory. I’m going to go find Zarathustra.”
Stable watched Mace run around the assembly line toward the back of the factory, disappearing and then reappearing behind two guards. Their heads instantly flew upward as Mace swung his katana. Stable handed Irene a few bombs, and they began strategically placing them throughout the factory.
Mace cautiously moved around the hallway leading away from the factory. He could hear voices in a nearby room marked restroom, and he snuck in to investigate. Two guards were standing in front of two urinals, an empty one between them, relieving themselves. He walked over to the empty urinal and joined them. Mace whistled as he relieved himself. One of the guards stared at him.
“Hi, there. Nice day we’re having. The name’s Mace Murdock.”
The other guard put a gun to Mace’s head.
“Now you had to go make this weird,” Mace said as he hit the button on the transporter, disappearing.
“Where did he go?” the other guy asked.
“Check the stalls.”
The two guards checked each stall, kicking each door open. Mace snuck up behind them and stuck his tongue out as he quietly danced. As the guards kicked in the last stall door, they looked at each other confused.
Mace cleared his throat. As they spun around, he shot them both in the head with his two handguns.
“Now where can Zarathustra be?”
He slowly crept down the hallway until he reached a locked door to the right. He pressed the button on the transporter. He was forcibly slammed into the door causing him to bounce off it and crash into the wall behind him. He slowly stood up.
“I guess I can’t transport through doors.”
He grabbed a magnetic bomb out of his pocket and placed it on the door. A few seconds later the bomb exploded sending pieces of the metal door in every direction. He walked through the opening almost tripping over a dead guard who had been standing on the other side waiting to ambush him when the door exploded. He had a large metal piece of the door sticking out of the back of his head.