Worst. Superhero. Ever.: and other odd short stories

by Scott Baron

  “I don’t want to harm you, but you leave me no choice,” Tyler said as he raised his hands and focused his newly discovered ice powers at the approaching criminal.

  A flash of cool, blue light filled the alleyway, and The Protector smiled.

  Then he realized he couldn’t move.

  His icy blast had misfired, hitting the puddle he’d been standing in, freezing his own feet in place.

  Typical.

  “Oh, now you fucked up,” was the last thing he remembered hearing before the steel pipe rang out across his skull. Fortunately his durability powers were mostly functional that day, though he still wound up with a black eye, bloody lip, and two cracked ribs.

  As he limped back to his secret hideout, a flashlight beam dancing through the check cashing shop down the street caught his eye. After midnight? The place was most certainly not open for business.

  He was sore, not to mention humiliated, but duty called. Still, just to be safe, he dialed 9-1-1 on his cell phone.

  “And who did you say you are?” the operator asked.

  “The Protector.”

  “Is this some kind of joke? Who names themselves after a geometry tool?”

  “No, Protector.” He sighed. “Look, I told you there’s a crime in progress. Just send a car, alright?” he said, then hung up.

  As stealthily as he could, he stepped through the shattered glass façade to confront the criminal lurking inside. A loud metal bang made him jump, just as the perpetrator came into view.

  “Hey!” he shouted to the lean girl in the catsuit as she smashed away at the safe behind the counter with a sledgehammer. “Step away from the safe and put your hands up!” He could hear the wail of police cars in the distance. This would make up for earlier. He’d be a hero yet.

  The Siren smiled.

  “Oh honey,” she cooed, “you’re new here aren’t you?”

  “I’m The Protector,” his voice boomed in the close space, “and your days of crime are over.”

  She laughed.

  “Seriously? Wow, that’s like straight out of a bad movie. Come on, I’m sure you have something better. Try again.”

  “What?” he replied, confused. “Perhaps you didn’t understand me, I’m The Protector, and—”

  “Hi Protector, I’m The Siren.”

  “Don’t interrupt, it’s—”

  “Rude to interrupt? Yeah, my mom always used to tell me that.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know what. You keep inte—”

  “Interrupting you? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop it!”

  She flashed an amused grin, her gaze shifting to the pair of police cruisers screeching to a halt in front of the building. It was pretty, in a smashy-smashy sort of way, the strobing lights illuminating hero and villain alike in a glittering wash of color reflected from the broken glass.

  “You invited civvies to our party? You really are new, aren’t you?”

  “Freeze!” the approaching cops shouted, guns drawn. “Put your hands up and step out onto the sidewalk.”

  The Siren flashed a mischievous smile.

  “Don’t you even want to know why they call me The Siren?” she asked, then began singing a sweet melody, the dulcet notes flowing in the wind to the street outside.

  The officers froze in place, eyes glazed over in a trance. Tyler just stood there, confused, as he looked at the motionless men, then the supervillain.

  “Cool trick,” he said.

  “Huh, that’s weird,” The Siren mused, then turned her full attention on her new interloper.

  Her song blasted out, wave after wave buffeting The Protector, its paralyzing energy spreading farther than before, flooding the whole street, stunning the poor squirrels in the tree above as they were just about to enjoy some plump acorns. One frozen critter fell to the sidewalk with a tiny thud.

  Again, The Protector just stood there.

  “I appreciate the tune, you do have a lovely voice, but like I said, you’re coming with me.”

  The Siren was flummoxed. “It doesn’t work on you.” A faint note of actual distress tinged her voice. “It works on everyone, why not on you?”

  “I told you, I’m a superhero. Now, if you’ll—”

  “It works on superheroes, it works on everyone,” she blurted, concerned.

  “There you go, interrupting again,” he chuckled. “Now, I believe it’s time to take you to jail.”

  He bent at the knees, intending to fly across the room and scoop her up in his arms, carrying her to justice, just like in the movies.

  Unfortunately, his powers once again had a different idea.

  “Um, what are you doing?” she asked the half-buried hero, firmly embedded in the ground up to his chest.

  “I was trying to fly.”

  “You went the wrong way.”

  “Gee, ya think?”

  “You’re not very good at this hero thing are you?”

  “Shut up. You’re still my prisoner.”

  “Says you,” she laughed. “See ya around Protector!” she taunted, dashing out of the storefront and into the night.

  “This has got to get easier,” he muttered to himself.

  It didn’t.

  Tyler worked hard, trying his best to rein in and manage his nascent abilities. He spent months holed up in his secret hideout, training, practicing, gradually discovering the multitude of powers he possessed, as well as how little he could control them.

  Of all his skills, he found that with great concentration, he could focus his freezing power, but only if he meditated first, channeling that force to his hands. It was far from perfect, but he could somewhat reliably direct a blast of freezing ice more or less in the direction he wanted. Of course, in the real world, how would that work mid-battle?

  “I can see it now,” he chuckled to himself. “ ‘Excuse me Mr. Villain, would you mind stopping your evil onslaught for a few minutes while I sit here and meditate so I can power up to defeat you?’ ‘Of course Protector, take your time, no rush.’ ”

  He’d had a good laugh over that one.

  Flying was far more sporadic. He could sometimes hover in place for a few seconds and very rarely attain up to twenty seconds or so of poorly controlled flight. Otherwise, he was pretty much grounded.

  The super-strength and imperviousness were totally out of his control. When they’d work and when they’d crap out on him were completely random, so he gave up even trying to control those.

  He had also discovered, quite unintentionally, that he could breathe underwater. Sometimes. When it did work, he took to submerging himself in the old cast-iron bathtub in his hideout. It was relaxing, lying underwater for long stretches, and even if he didn’t think it was the most useful of powers, it was still more than a lot of other heroes could do.

  There were many other powers in his quiver. Super speed, super hearing, telekinesis, to name just a few. He had more raw abilities than any super team combined, but try as he might, he simply couldn’t control them.

  Tyler needed help and he knew it. He believed in his heart that with mentoring and care, he could one day become a valued member of the superhero community, but the next step would be the hardest. He needed to be accepted and taken in as a new recruit.

  It had been several months since their first meeting. Captain Stupendous and a few of his team had just finished rounding up a group of would-be bank robbers when The Protector approached them.

  “Hey guys, it’s the dork again,” the Captain said to his fellow heroes with a snide guffaw.

  Bird Girl’s presence was preceded by the splatter of poop landing on The Protector’s head.

  “Oops, sorry.” She laughed as she glided effortlessly to the ground beside him. “I don’t know why they did that. Wasn’t me, promise.” The jeers from the rest of the team didn’t make it any easier, but The Protector swallowed his pride and did what had to be done.

&
nbsp; “Captain,” he began, wiping the mess from his head, “I’ve been trying to teach myself, but on my own I don’t think I’ll ever become a real superhero, not without help. I want to be like you. To become one of you. Please, will you help me? Teach me? I’ll do anything, just let me try.”

  The Captain glanced at the mirthful looks of his companions.

  “Anything?” He flashed that gleaming trademark smile.

  “Anything, just give me a chance.”

  “So that’s a double mocha for Mister Cool, a soy Frappuccino for Bird Girl, non-fat latte for The Torch, iced tea, no sugar, for Commander Smackdown, black coffee for Mistress Lightning, and a Quad Espresso for the Captain.”

  “Alright scrub, get moving,” Captain Stupendous chuckled. “And don’t forget to buff my super-boots when you get back.”

  The Protector had been doing menial tasks for the super team for over a month. Sure, it sucked, but aside from the occasional noogie from the Captain and periodic bird poop attacks from Bird Girl’s asshole friends, he didn’t think it was all that bad.

  Like Daniel-San, I need to wax on, wax off, he had told himself. Unfortunately, the Captain was no Mr. Miyagi, and any villain he faced would do far worse than sweep the leg.

  “I’ll be back in ten!” he called out.

  “Run faster, dork,” Mistress Lightning barked. “I don’t want my coffee to get cold.”

  “Ah, yeah, but if I do a super-run I might spill, and besides, um, it’s still kind of hard to—”

  The blaring alarm went off on all the heroes’ team wristbands at once.

  “Doctor Malice is back! He’s assaulting the secret government weapons testing facility in the warehouse district. Team, let’s go!”

  “Can I come?” The Protector asked, hopeful. “I promise, I can help. I’ve been practicing!”

  The Captain thought for a minute. “Alright. I want you to take up a position behind the tire factory building. It’s of the utmost importance you prevent anyone from escaping, is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir, you can count on me!” He turned to take off at a fast run.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “You said to—”

  “Get the coffee first, dumb-ass. We’ll be thirsty when we’re through.”

  The Captain and his team flew to confront their nemesis, and right behind them The Protector ran off into the night to take part in his first real superhero operation.

  After getting their coffee.

  He arrived behind the tire factory twenty minutes later (there had been a line at Starbucks), the beverages securely stashed atop a nearby storage tank well out of the way of any possible conflict.

  Okay, this is it, gotta get ready, he thought excitedly.

  He focused his gaze on the back door, readying himself for anything as he began to slowly breathe in and out, channeling his ice power as he’d been practicing. Fortune had smiled on him. Amazingly, it appeared there’d actually be time to prepare for this fight.

  Five blocks away, where the real action was taking place, Captain Stupendous and his team were battling the giant laser-shooting robot horde controlled by Doctor Malice, trying to reach the man himself as he scurried off with his booty, a prototype disruptor ray stolen from the now-smoldering remains of the secret government facility.

  “Stop him!” the Captain bellowed as he ripped the massive steel arm from his robotic foe. “Don’t let him get away!”

  The team was up to their necks in robots, and the Doctor was making a rapid escape on his fusion-powered motorcycle. He darted down the block, then made a sharp turn before hitting the accelerator. This most certainly was not part of the Captain’s plan.

  “Team, follow me!” the Captain yelled out.

  The superheroes delivered massive blows to their opponents in unison, smashing them into one another before they turned and pursued their quarry.

  “He’s too far ahead!” shouted Bird Girl.

  “Shortcut! Through here!” Mister Cool called out. “We can cut him off!”

  The Protector had heard the fierce battle, but had remained focused. It was up to him to be the last line of defense, and he was not going to blow it. His super hearing (why it chose that moment to work was a mystery to him) picked up a speeding motorcycle a few blocks to his east, but the real commotion was thundering right toward him through the cavernous warehouse in front of him.

  “This is it,” he muttered as he focused his energy and unleashed the full force of the power he’d been mustering for the past ten minutes.

  The heroes burst through the back door just as the wave of freezing ice burst from The Protector’s hands.

  “I did it!” he yelped, jumping for joy at the sight of the frozen villains encased in snow and ice. It hadn’t been pretty, but The Protector had finally (more or less) controlled his power and done good.

  “You moron!” Captain Stupendous’s muffled voice cursed.

  “Captain?”

  The enraged hero burst free from the ice. “What the hell were you thinking? You’re supposed to be on our side idiot!”

  “But Captain…” The horror of realization struck him as the other heroes freed themselves from the frosty blast aftermath. “But, but you said to guard the back door. You said—”

  “Oh come on, do you think we’d really give you an important job to do? You’re useless. No, scratch that, you’re worse than useless. You might as well be playing for the other team. I swear, you can’t do anything right.”

  “Incompetent ass!” Bird Girl screamed in frustration.

  The Protector hung his head as he trudged away, leaving the team bitterly bitching among themselves. He returned moments later with the heroes’ drinks.

  “I got these for you,” he said meekly.

  Captain Stupendous slapped the tray, the contents of the cups sent flying, drenching The Protector head to toe. With barely contained rage, the Captain grabbed him by the back of his coffee-soaked super suit and dragged him to the tire factory.

  “Bird Girl!” he barked.

  She swooped down, the Captain grabbing her ankle as she hauled him and The Protector effortlessly into the air.

  They left him up there, hanging by his underwear from the side of the warehouse.

  “Stay the hell out of our way nerd. You’ll never be a superhero!” His once-idol spat at him in disgust, then turned and left, the rest of his super team in tow.

  “But Captain? Guys?” he called after them.

  Bird Girl was the only one who seemed to hear, turning her angry gaze upon him for a moment before continuing away.

  “Guys? Please?…” He heard a sound and looked up. “Oh no.”

  The barrage of bird shit was unrelenting, and by the time they were done, The Protector resembled a feces-covered statue abandoned to disrepair.

  Soiled and humiliated, he dragged himself back to his hideout and licked his wounds in solitude. He was down, most certainly, but he was not out. Despite the abuse he was nevertheless determined to make a difference. The first step was planning how best to co-exist in a world where the other heroes didn’t want him around.

  Those months of solitary crime fighting turned into years, and though new powers would still periodically manifest, The Protector had resigned himself to not using any but the few he could more or less control in his crime fighting endeavors.

  It was just too risky.

  It could also be too costly.

  The thing about accidentally causing damage and destruction in the pursuit of justice is, he was still protected by the Good Samaritan law, even though he happened to be a superhero. At least that used to be the case. Things started to change after the bills from The Protector’s repeated disasters began adding up, and it wasn’t just the city that was dragging its feet in paying out.

  Citizens were upset, but insurance companies balked at covering acts of a superhero, some going so far as to claim that a meta-human could be considered a deity in some eyes, thus their actions techni
cally being “Acts of God” and not covered under most policies.

  When a group of citizens filed a class-action lawsuit against the city for protecting the actions of one particularly destructive resident (even if he didn’t mean to cause harm), the City Council was finally forced to begin drafting legislation to exempt one superhero in particular from the Good Samaritan provisions.

  The final straw had been when an old woman had asked The Protector to rescue her cat from the tall oak tree outside City Hall. It seemed innocent enough. A simple task. Something that he could do without difficulty at all.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  He should have known better.

  The cat, by the way, survived without a scratch, but the half-dozen smashed cars and the high-voltage lines taken out in the process hadn’t fared so well. It might not have caused quite such a stir if the cars destroyed in the process hadn’t belonged to the mayor, the district attorney, and several of the city’s powerful elite who were attending a charity function that day.

  Captain Stupendous had stood beside Mayor Parker when he gave a press conference from the steps of City Hall. The mayor was not only supporting the new legislation put forth by the City Council, but was adding to it, calling for a new ordinance to be drafted to protect the city from the clumsy hero who seemed to do far more harm than good.

  The Protector would cease damaging property in his crime fighting endeavors or the mayor would see to it, with the Captain and his team’s assistance no less, that The Protector would be locked up behind bars and held accountable for any damage he had caused.

  That would have been bad enough, but behind the perfect hair and dazzling smile, Captain Stupendous was a vindictive man, and the new legislation gave him carte blanche to ramp up his harassment of the low-rent superhero.

  The Captain didn’t go out and physically harm him, that would have been frowned on even in the press, but with Bird Girl and the others egging him on, he took to making The Protector’s life hell whenever he came across him. Soon the rest of his cohorts joined in, and in no time at all, the poor hero found himself barely able to leave his hideout in costume without being harassed, taunted, and even pooped on by Bird Girl’s avian minions at every turn.