Superheroes in Prose: The 1-4 Collection

by Paris, Sevan

  “Gabe.”

  M slowly nods and looks out the window. “I jumped out of Dodger immediately. I would like to say that part of me knew he would be the perfect fit; that I knew we would be able to bond completely. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. I leapt out of the beast’s body, crossing the twenty-foot divide between us in an instant.” M looks back at me. “It was a one-way trip you know. I really had no idea if we were truly compatible and if we weren’t ... I wouldn’t have had enough energy to get back to the little pooping, dumpster diving vienna sausage. I wouldn’t say I was suicidal at that particular point, but I certainly had a disregard for personal safety. It wasn’t that I wanted to die … I just didn’t care about living anymore.”

  M pauses like he’s trying to think of the best way to phrase the next piece of the story. Then he hurriedly says, “As soon as I made contact with Gabe’s face, all that was me was transferred into him. Crazy adventures soon followed and here we are now.”

  “…. That’s it?”

  “You said no omissions and I gave none. The only parts I removed were those irrelevant to our situation or beyond your understanding. Believe me, there were far more of the latter than of the former.”

  “But what about Gabe? How did he handle this? You?”

  “That’s a question better suited for him.”

  There’s a bright flash of white that comes from the darkness to our left and the bulb above our table explodes. The store is only lit by the streetlights outside, which is to say it’s hardly lit at all.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I hear a strange voice say in a British accent from the back of the coffee shop. M and I turn our heads; a flash of lightening illuminates Dr. Villainous, soaking wet in his purple and black costume, pointing a smoking gun at us that looks a lot like another version of the V-Ray. “I think I’m in a swell position to answer it too.”

  Chapter Four

  I was five years old the first time I saw Dr. Villainous on television. He interrupted the Cookie Monster on Sesame Street to let the “People of Earth” know he was about to vaporize the moon unless the leader of every nation recognized him as the “Supreme Leader of the Cosmos.” Within minutes, HEROES had tracked his broadcast signal to an island somewhere close to Antarctica. Villainous, so wrapped up in an ongoing tirade against the oppressive chains of capitalism, didn’t even notice Liberty and the others were in the same room … until they beat the crap out of him.

  On camera.

  Villainous later went to The Bend where—according to several straight to video documentaries—he quickly became the running joke of the Supervillain community. Popular culture didn’t do him any favors either. SNL did a reoccurring skit with Will Ferrell as Dr. Villainous. Ferrell stared at the camera, addressing “The People of Earth,” while guest stars came in and did random things behind him: Steve Carell played a burglar carrying off all of Villainous’ equipment; Adam Sandler played Liberty making out with Villainous’ girlfriend; Tina Fey recently did something too, but I never saw it.

  As bad as things were for Villainous, they only became worse for the self proclaimed “Master of Machines” when it was revealed that he stole all of his equipment—which he barely understood how to use—from the Zyborg aliens. The Zyborg Empire intercepted part of his Sesame Street interruption (which was really no surprise considering he used their tech to broadcast his demands). After seeing a lot of their stolen technology in the background, the incredibly pissed off Zyborg Empire invaded Earth. HEROES fought them off, with a little bit of reluctant help from Villainous. Every major news outlet covered the invasion footage on TV: That was the last time I saw him.

  And here he is now, standing in Rock Creek Bookstore, pointing another one of those V-Ray looking things at me and M. His outfit hasn’t changed much. It’s still a tight fitting purple and black number with pouches here and there, containing various pieces of Zyborg equipment. The outfit doesn’t do his love handles any favors, but at least he doesn’t wear that ridiculous motorcycle looking helmet thing anymore.

  “Oh, that’s right. Didn’t think you’d see me again, did you?” he says, holding the V-Ray slightly sideways.

  M stands. “To tell the truth, I never really gave it much thought either way. If I saw you, I would beat you, probably in shorter order than last time. And if I didn’t … well, I didn’t.”

  Villainous kicks a chair out of his way, raises the gun slightly above his head—but keeps it pointed at us. “You don’t look like you’re in a position to defeat anything right now, you stupid git.” He tongues the inside of his bottom lip. “Now, who’s the Birdie and why does she have my weapon?”

  M looks at the weapon in my hand. “The V-Ray, of course. That’s how you found us.”

  “V-RAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK THAT THING IS? Bloody brilliant, you are! Yes, that’s how I found you—no, it’s not a V-Ray. What you got there is the VT-Ray.”

  “Which stands for?” M says.

  “The V stands for … well, I just like to throw a V in front of everything. The T though—that’s for me to know and you to find out. It is how I tracked you. No harm in letting that out. The first shot told me which block. Second which building. What’s going on here, anyway?” He takes turns pointing the gun at each of us. “We got us a lover’s spat? What’s a matter, love—you not spacey enough for him?”

  M looks at the row of flavored syrups behind the counter, the chunk of wood missing from the bench’s headrest, then to me. “Oh, she’s quite spacey. Listen … doctor, I know you hold a substantial amount of resentment after what happened six months ago.”

  “Resentment? RESENTMENT? Bugger that. Resentment is petty. Resentment is passive. What I’ve got for you, Galaxy—it’s way past that. It’s more like … Shakespearean, I’d say. Yeah, there’s a bloke knew a thing or two about revenge.”

  “What did he do to you?” I say.

  “Oh, you don’t know? Space Boy here thought it might be fun to take away my VT-Ray and leave me sitting pretty for Prose’s finest. Used his powers to wrap one of those bicycle park things around me. Took the firefighters two hours—”

  “Shut up.” M says firmly and steps towards Villainous.

  Villainous laughs incredulously. “Have you got bollox for brains, Space Boy? I’m the one with the end of the world type weapon pointed at you—not vice versa. And from what I remember, these things can shed your force field quicker than a dress on prom night.”

  M takes another step. “You’re not going to shoot us—not yet anyway.”

  Villainous takes a step towards M. Four feet separate them and—as far as they’re concerned—it’s like I’m not even in the room. Villainous grins. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why won’t I shoot you?”

  Three feet separate them. “Because we haven’t heard your story yet. And that’s what this is really about, right? You don’t care about beating me or blasting me with that Zyborg weapon. That isn’t enough. You want—need—for us to know what your plans were for that money I stopped you from stealing out of that armored car seven months ago. You need us to know what you’re planning on doing to Prose after you kill us. It’s the reason you waited in the back room for over an hour while we told our story to Reagan.”

  I look in the direction of the back room. Of course … Gabe said M could track people—like some sort of uber radar or something. He would’ve known—he would have freaking known the moment Dr. Villainous walked into the bookstore. So why not say anything? This guy is crazy dangerous in person—he’s not like Will Ferrell at all.

  Two feet separate them. M raises his palms, waist level. “You weren’t waiting for the perfect moment to make your appearance; you weren’t waiting to catch us off guard. You were waiting for me to begin your story and then you could come in here and finish it. It’s not the fact that I beat you so quickly, so … completely that vexes you. No, what really chaps your poorly fitting tights,” M looks at me and, even though there’s no way for me to know for sure, I swear he grins, “is not
being heard.”

  M was being dramatic. He knew Villainous would eventually make his appearance, and he wanted to make a ham-fisted point. God, what an asshole.

  M raises his index finger. “And, guess what, Doctor V—it still isn’t going to happen. The majority of your weapons may have been able to circumvent my force field last time we fought—if you could even call it that a fight. But they won’t do you any good now. I’ve made a few tweaks.

  I look at the useless gun in my hand. M’s final chess piece falls into place. He was in complete control the entire time. Throughout our entire conversation, this thing never posed the slightest threat to him.

  Villainous sneers red faced into the silence between them. I think I hear a knuckle pop as his grip tightens on the gun. “Well guess what, Space Boy—you weren’t the only one that made a few tweaks.”

  He shoots.

  A white beam of light leaves Dr. Villainous’ barrel and slams through M’s skull. He rag dolls off a table and onto the floor.

  “Gabe!”

  “Oh, yeah!” Villainous fist pumps and hops twice. “That’s what I’m talking about! Did you see the way the laser went through his brainpan? It was just like—EGHHHH—YEAH!”

  I don’t know if I should run away from Villainous or towards Gabe’s body; I think I do little bit of both. But I keep my shaky gun pointed at Villainous.

  “Now, where was I? Oh yeah … it took the firefighters—HEY! Are you even paying attention?”

  “W-What?”

  “To my story. This is my tale, love. How it’s going to start: My epic tale of revenge—of my rise to power—of my glory, and I’m sharing it all with you and before I do, I’m wondering … ARE YOU BLOODY PAYING ATTENTION?!”

  And then I go starry.

  It hits just as hard as the other times. A buzzing sensation starts in the pit of my stomach and shoots through limbs. A gush of nausea followed by a wave of panic sends my heart racing. My hands and legs tremble even more and I want to run screaming from the room and just go away and forget everything—Gabe’s death, this hair dryer looking laser gun thing in my hand, the ridiculously dressed Supervillain … and the glowing blue stuff oozing from Gabe’s skull onto the tile floor—oh, Gabe, I’m so sorry.

  “What’s this?” Villainous says, taking in my starry appearance. Did he give you some sort of STD?”

  My gun fires.

  The beam sends a flash of red through the dark bookstore. I would like to think that I was in complete control the entire time. That—even when faced with the overwhelming panic—I had the peace of mind to fire the gun at that insensitive prick. But I’m pretty sure my shaky finger pressed the trigger by accident.

  Somehow, with a bright flash of yellow light, the red beam ricochets off Villainous … right into Gabe. The impact rolls Gabe’s body onto its back, sliding it behind a bookcase. His stars go away—thankfully the bookcase hides what’s left of his skull. My chest heaves like I should be crying—but my vision doesn’t get blurry. Guess I can’t cry when I’m starry. Lucky me.

  “Well, guess Rock Creek patrons will be getting a nasty surprise in a little while,” Villainous says.

  Reagan …

  I jump at the sound of M’s voice. Gabe still isn’t moving. “What—”

  No, I’m not in there anymore Reagan. I’m in here, with you …

  “WHAT?!”

  Villainous laughs. “Yeah, that’s right you just sent his body through time. See, that’s why I put the T in VT-Ray.”

  I look at the gun in my hand for the upteenth time tonight. “M, I … VT Ray?”

  “T is for Temporal, love. And actually, you didn’t send him forward, you sent him back—so technically, said patrons already had a surprise about two months ago.”

  “Two … months ago?”

  Yes, Reagan. I’ve been here for two months. By deflecting your VT Bolt at Gabe, Villainous unknowingly transported me back in time by two months … where I found and bonded with you. You were able to activate some of our powers—sometimes by accident, sometimes not. I kept myself, my actual presence, hidden from you so that you wouldn’t later tell Gabe or me that I was in here.

  “In … me?” I whisper as my brain desperately tries to put this mind-trip together.

  Alerting either of you to my presence may have introduced a time paradox. Believe me, you don’t want to open that can of worms. You both were better off thinking I was another entity.

  I risk a look in Gabe’s direction. “Gabe’s still … he’s alive?”

  “I put a hole through his brain,” Dr. Villainous says. “Of course he isn’t alive.”

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  Villainous looks in the direction of Gabe’s body. “You just sent his dead body back in time. Wonder if he’ll see himself?”

  “What do you mean … he’s right th—”

  Shut-up, Reagan, and think. Look at your vantage point compared to that of Villainous. You can see Gabe’s body, but its location behind the bookcase prevents Villainous from seeing it. He thinks you’ve sent Gabe and me back in time. Instead, the beam pealed my essence away and just sent me.

  “Why did-did my beam do that?”

  Dr. Villainous taps a triangular gold belt buckle. “Found a force field belt buckle thingy in one of my many stashes of Zyborg tech. Way I figure, it’s a force field built to repel Zyborg weaponry, or at the very least, deflect them a little. I even did some modifications to it earlier to prevent Galaxy from blasting me with that Gravity crap. At any rate, it deflected the VT ray and sent it into Space Boy. You sent him back in time instead of me.”

  Since I was in control and powered up, the weapon pealed my essence away from Gabe’s body and shot it into a time displacement vortex set for two months ago. Just like the syrup bottle. Just like the chunk of wood from the bench.

  “You’re using weapons you barely understand?” I say.

  “You’re one to talk, Bird.”

  No doubt.

  I purse my bottom lip. Gotta admit, they had a point.

  I’m taking a reading on Villainous’ force field now to see if our powers will have any effect on it.

  “I’m not going to tell you again. Give me the VT ray. Those things aren’t like bazookas you know. They’re very difficult to come by.”

  I’m finished with the reading. I think I can overpower the force field with a close, well-placed Grav Blast. Point your free hand at him, Reagan. I’ll do the rest.

  “So … why don’t you just come over and … take it?” I say because I really don’t know the answer.

  What are you doing? Raise your hand.

  Villainous smiles. “You are new to this aren’t you? You see, if I just take the VT from you, it denies you the chance of defeating me. Even though you don’t have a chance, it’s the perception of a chance that will keep you listening.”

  It’s not that difficult. Raise your hand as if you’re looking at one of those i-telephone devices your kind is so fond of.

  I flip the gun around, barrel first. “No, I give up.”

  No, you don’t. Reagan. Raise. Your. Hand.

  His eyes narrow. “What?”

  “Do whatever you want. It doesn’t matter. I’m not a hero. I’m just me. And little ol’ me isn’t gonna try to overpower you or whatever.”

  Villainous’ smile freezes. “But …”

  I shake the VT-Ray. “HERE! TAKE IT! I DON’T WANT IT! I DON’T WANT THIS LIFE AND I-I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU!”

  His eyes flick back and forth from me to the gun.

  “I … do I look like a Superhero to you? I mean, even remotely? Do I look like I can stop you—like I even think I have a chance of stopping you? I can’t even pass Astronomy 101 for God’s sake! Take it and—and kill me or let me go. Just get it over with.”

  The red-faced sneer returns. “Alright, love.” He takes several quick steps towards me and snatches the gun …

  “Oh, it’s far from ‘alright love.’ ” I raise my hand.

&n
bsp; M fires a blue Grav Blast right into Dr. Villainous’ chest.

  For a split second, recognition flashes across Dr. Villainous’ face. Recognition that he’s too close for his force field to protect him. Recognition that I’ve beaten him. Recognition that he’s schemes—however carefully planned or not—have once again become fodder for an SNL skit.

  His eyes stay fixed on me—as the force of the Grav Blast carries him five feet into the air, over the counter and into the espresso machine. I see hate, humiliation, and … relief?

  He lands and steam hisses out of the broken espresso machine, scalding his face before the weight of his unconscious body rolls him over.

  That … worked surprisingly well, Reagan. Tell me, what are your plans for tomorrow evening and then the rest of your life? Have you ever considered a symbiotic relationship with an alien life form?

  A weird combination of dread and anticipation crosses me to the other side of the coffee shop where the body of Gabe Garrison lies. “Gabe?! He’s still alive, right? You said he was still alive!”

  My hand touches the corner of the bookshelf, I’m about to round it …

  I said ‘maybe,’ Reagan.

  I stop. Gabe’s leg and massive amounts of blood are the only thing I let myself see before turning my head away. I grab the bookcase to keep from sliding all the way to the floor.

  And, I also said if you still wanted to save him, you needed to act quickly. He’s currently deader than a doornail. But you can bring him back to life.

  “Fine. How? Tell me how.”

  You have to die.

  The stars disappear and my body goes back to regular me. “What do you mean?”

  I can heal Gabe, but the only way I can do so is if I leave you and join with him. You and I have been together for weeks now, which means if I leave … you’ll die. Your body, like Gabe’s, can’t live without me. Your nervous system completely depends upon my presence.