by Sergio Black
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Dr. Feelgood and his team turn toward Andrew Rush and Lisa Ann, awaiting their proposal. “Now that I have your full attention, my assistant here was just saying that we should use blood thinners and some type of cooling agent to keep his core temp down. If this works, we can successfully preserve the blood for our cause.” Dr. Feelgood and the masked Plague Doctors look to one another and snicker.
“We don’t wanna kill him. That would never work, the number of thinners we would have to use, to get the by-products you want, would be absurd. If he dies, he is useless to our research. Run along little girl, go play with your dollies.” Dr. Feelgood uses his hand to shoo away Lisa Ann with pure disrespect. The Mad Doctor stands in place, silently seething at their outright display of contempt, his face twisting, then he breaks into a rant.
“Shut the fuck up, Ted! When you talk to me, you better remove that ridiculous mask off your face. I own the N.S.W.P. and quite frankly, I own you, you got that!” Ted hesitantly takes the mask from his face and looks at the marble floor beneath his feet like a shamed dog. Lisa Ann can’t help it, she smirks. Ted AKA Dr. Feelgood is not at all what she had pictured. Ted has huge red-rimmed eyes from lack of sleep or debilitated health and a scrunched face like a British pug.
“Now I gave you an order and you will do as I please! He won’t die, he can take it like my whore mother took it up the ass! I don’t care how many thinners you use, get it done! Or you’re all fired!” The doctors look at each other and slowly nod against their inner desires. The Mad Doctor smiles, then hocks up a fat green loogie, and spits in his palm, massages the spittle through both hands like pomade and fixes his hair, making everyone present cringe with disgust. “Good. See to it that you get what you need without killing him. He is a fucking Superior, the most powerful we have been able to classify since his father. This will be done. And if he dies, I will hold you all accountable. So, help me God, the street cleaners won’t wipe their asses with your application!” The doctors stand silently still like scolded adolescents.
“Sorry sir, no disrespect. We just-” The Mad Doctor raises his hand and shushes the Plague Doctors.
“Just get it done. And apologize to my assistant.” The Plague Doctors nod and apologize with no warmth. The Mad Doctor looks at Lisa Ann and gives her an exaggerated wink, before brushing past her, saying, “Come, Lisa Ann, let these idiots work.” Lisa Ann looks to the de-masked Plague Doctors and mimes ‘sorry’ before turning to exit the doctors’ lounge. When the double doors close behind Lisa Ann, the Mad Doctor curtly turns, bringing Lisa Ann face to face with him.
“Lisa Ann, don’t argue with me when I say this. I am placing you with my finest police detail, the Sicherheitspolizei (Silver Team).” The Mad Doctor pauses and licks his lips like a lizard and bats his eyes. He knows he must think fast so as to not arouse Lisa Ann’s suspicions, for he must not let her know of his true intent to spy on her. “To uh, protect you. Don't you understand. You’re the apple of my eye.” The Mad Doctor takes Lisa Ann’s hand in his own. “Lisa Ann, I couldn’t forgive myself if anything ever happened to you.” The Mad Doctor stares into Lisa Ann’s eyes, transfixed. “Starting tonight, when you leave the office, Lisa Ann, they will protect you and escort you on your travels. Lisa Ann, we have many enemies and if any of those enemies ever figured out how important you are to me, they would use you against me. It’s for our protection, dear.” The Mad Doctor lets go of Lisa Ann and has no intention of protecting her, but of protecting his own self- interests, turning away he walks down the white hallway, whistling “London Bridges.” “Go home, Lisa Ann, but first, report to the Security Prep Room. They will stick by you until further notice.”
Lisa Ann watches as the Mad Doctor disappears down the bleak hallway, whistling to himself like he has not a care in the world. Lisa Ann can’t help feeling that the Mad Doctor has many ulterior motives, none of which is protecting her. Lisa Ann’s sleuthing gets the best of her as she walks toward the room that holds Nefarious. She reluctantly enters against her better judgment, standing in the small corridor, whacky ramblings echo through her ears from the other side of the door that opens up to Nefarious’ room. The unmistakable voice, curiosity thoroughly piqued, she quietly sneaks into the small observation room and slowly closes the door, only releasing the handle when the door’s clicker is lined up with its notch, not wanting to make any sounds that could provoke awareness or suspicion. Lisa Ann walks in front of the panel and intently watches the series of horrid events that unfold from inside Nefarious’ Panic Room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
EXPOSED: THE MONSTER WITHIN!
Lisa Ann stands quietly in the small observation room, watching from behind the two-way mirror and observes the Mad Doctor circle the Panic Room, whispering to himself like a crazed mental patient with Dissociative Identity Disorder, the separate identities warring against each other for dominance within. The Mad Doctor seems to regain his composure as he approaches Nefarious. Lisa Ann feels the pent-up tension resonating through the two-way glass and knows something drastic is about to occur. The Mad Doctor stands over Nefarious and whispers, then begins shouting like there was someone else in the room. “Mother! See what you have created! The villain known as me!” Andrew says this with such intensity, he heaves and shakes, then froths at the mouth. That’s all that Lisa Ann can make out. She wants to listen in but doesn’t dare push the intercom button, for the static of the speaker would alert him to her presence. The Mad Doctor rages in silent anger then strikes Nefarious over and over again with a closed fist until he’s battered to consciousness.
“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” Nefarious peels his eyes open as the Mad Doctor sadistically whacks him with every ounce of force he can muster from his frail fists, but to Nefarious it feels like nothing but the soft kisses of pitter-pattering butterfly wings. “You don’t deserve the luxury of sleep! I hate you!” The Mad Doctor locks his hands around Nefarious’ throat and uses his thumbs to apply pressure on his trachea, strangling Nefarious with enough force that his black nails break the skin.
The Mad Doctor releases Nefarious and wheezes loudly from exhaustion before he regains his composure. Spitting into both hands, he rubs them together then slicks them through his hair, using his spittle like Revlon Grease. Nefarious doesn’t whimper, holler or so much as bat an eye, he just casually stares at Andrew with ill contempt like a Siamese lap cat, which further unhinges the persona known as the Mad Doctor. Andrew returns the stare and loathes the feeling of powerlessness in a situation where he should command all power. The Mad Doctor releases a small smirk before backhanding Nefarious hard enough to fracture his hand. Nefarious just smiles at the Mad Doctor through blood-soaked teeth.
“Is that all... You’re a fool, a puppet to a puppeteer who pulls commanding strings. Always have been and will be nothing. When I get out of these shackles, you’re going to wish you would’ve killed me. Not for my torment but for the death of my father, you’re going to die a slow, cruel, agonizing death. Of that, I can assure you.” Nefarious hawks loudly, spitting a bloody loogie into the Mad Doctor’s eye that leaks from lacerations inside his mouth brought on by the physical contusions dealt by the Mad Doctor. Andrew wipes the spit away and crams his grotesque fingers into his mouth, deliberately slurping with over exaggeration.
“Mmmm. God, your blood is like a drug, better than heroine.” Smacking his lips, the Mad Doctor leans closely to Nefarious’ face. “You know what you taste like? Suffering. Your suffering is sweeter than the sweetest, biological nectar on the face of this surface world.” Andrew hikes his eyebrows, “And yes, I mean, it’s sweeter than pussy. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, virgin boy?” The Mad Doctor chuckles, then dips his hand into his pocket, his wet fingers grabbing the Spear of Destiny. The Mad Doctor holds tightly to the Spear then raises it close to his face.
“See this? It’s a holy Instrument and everything you’re not. This weapon is meant to break Superiors like you. I would contest tha
t it’s the sharpest relic that was ever made, second best to the Reaper Scythe which is also now in my care, the official property of the N.S.W.P. You know that Scythe killed one of my assets. He tried to lift it when you fell and poof, just like that, turned him to dust, literally a pile of ash. The fool was so excited, he took leave of all common sense. My team had to wear Sinatonium gloves for protection, even then it took my 4 strongest assets to get it downstairs and into my power vacuum. We tested the weapon at least a dozen times, the verdict... That Scythe contains enough dark energy to sustain the whole earth 100 times over. 100 times... That’s crazy. All that power you had, and here you sit, my prisoner. You know we also took your stats when you fell. Wanna know the results? Besides the fact that your blood itself is dangerous and somehow gets humans higher than hell, you don’t even have a heartbeat, which means you’re technically dead… Believe you and me, I’m baffled for the both of us, on top of which, we also weighed you. Your BMI broke my scale. And that’s no small deed. My personal scale is made to withstand 25,000 pounds. Point being, getting you down here was not easy. I wonder, why are you so physically elevated, I guess what I am trying to ask you is, what’s the secret to your Superiority?”
Nefarious sits in silence for the next few moments, pondering his next insults carefully. “Like I’d tell you anything. Your asset got what he deserved, and soon, you’ll also get what you deserve. You’re all unworthy. You and your associates will burn by my hand, it’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.” The Mad Doctor smiles then chuckles as he repeats the word: Unworthy… The Mad Doctor paces forward, tossing the Spear from hand to hand, then plunges it into Nefarious’ eye, but is careful enough not to hit his brain’s frontal lobe. The sound of Nefarious’ eye-puncturing is like a balloon hurled to the pavement. White clumpy liquid snowballs from Nefarious’ eye and clumps down his cheek like cottage cheese.
“You fucking parasite! I’ll speak you out of existence!”
The Mad Doctor laughs maniacally. “How about I sew your fucking mouth shut? You won’t be speaking anything then. Before I go, I need a pick me up though.” The Mad Doctor backhands Nefarious, and his head whiplashes to the side. Andrew grabs his cheeks, and licks the dark blood that runs down his lips, staggering backward, the Mad Doctor looks toward the ceiling. Breathing in his new high, Andrew shouts loudly, “God, that is sensational!” Lisa Ann is horrified at the horrendous display of cruelty demonstrated on the Mad Doctor’s behalf. She involuntarily lets out a small scream and her fingers reactively touch the speaker panel that sits on the desk in front of her. The speaker crisps to life. The Mad Doctor takes his eyes off the ceiling, then to Nefarious, before he looks back at the two-way glass. Licking his chops, the Mad Doctor starts speaking to the unknown persons behind the glass.
“Hello, anyone there? Lisa Ann, my sweet child, is that you?” Lisa Ann rushes out of the observation room, fast as her long legs will carry her small frame, but in her quick getaway, she doesn’t close the door properly which leaves it ajar. The Mad Doctor looks back to Nefarious like a creepy cretin. “Looks like we may have an unwanted and unanticipated visitor. Keep that other eye safe for me. Wouldn’t wanna mar our chance to unravel its secrets.” The Mad Doctor gives a condescending wink then pulls the Spear from Nefarious’ eye with some hassle. Holding the Spear in his hand, he wipes the bloody contents on his coat then jams it into his pocket as he leaves the room.
The Mad Doctor enters the observation room and sniffs the air smelling the distinct scent of lavender, realizing whoever was behind the two-way panel left in a frenzied panic, for they hadn’t even bothered to close the door. “Hmmm, could it be Lisa Ann? If so, I must not let her leave. My plan is slowly falling apart. I would hate to have THEM intervene.” The Mad Doctor panics and power walks to the red emergency Halagrim that cradles the observation room’s back wall. He presses the receiver with a middle finger. The doohickey rings once, then an elderly woman on the other end appears and says “Heil Hitler!” before speaking very professionally.
“Hello, N.S.W.P. Call Center, how can I assist you?”
“This is Andrew Rush. I need a Captain of the Sicherheitspolizei.” (Sicherheitspolizei - AKA Silver Teams are Level 2 Superiors with exceptional abilities, one below Almighty Team and two below Godly. The Silver Teams are adept in most forms of combat but their specialty is hypnosis, close-range combat, and power nullification.)
The Mad Doctor speaks with intent and chooses his following words carefully. “My assistant, Lisa Ann, is not to leave the compound. I need the Sicherheitspolizei to find her and subdue her. Subdue, do not kill. Do not harm. Give the orders right away, are we clear?” The Mad Doctor doesn’t wait for a response and angrily slams his fist into the Halagrim’s disconnect panel. He turns away and exits the room, then heads toward the Security Center in a less than chipper mood, pushing all thoughts of Nefarious behind him for the time being and focusing on his wayward employee, Lisa Ann.
Nefarious sits still and eavesdrops the best he can to the Mad Doctor’s brief, but what he believes to be a vital conversation. The name Lisa Ann throws Nefarious off focus. ‘Lisa Ann? So that’s her real name, her eyes and that perfect face... just like Eden. I have nothing but time. My eye is the least of my worries. It’ll heal without a scratch if I can just escape this place. This whole imprisonment palace is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. Killian always told me of a Superior who could construct, indomitable prisons. With these architectural advancements, there is only one person who could have done it. I’m sure Ronnie Silent Room made these shackles, more than likely this entire brig. I need to escape before they dampen my abilities to nothing. The only way I could do that is by getting ahold of the Reaper Scythe. Or that Javelin head. Whatever that was, I am sure it was made from pure Sinatonium. How long did Father sit here before he'd fallen?’
Lisa Ann’s black shoes bite the spotless stone floor with tense clicks as she power walks through the bleak hallways of the N.S.W.P., trying as best she can not to attract attention to herself. Lisa Ann puts both hands forward and explodes through the twin set of indiscernible doors, with more force than she would have liked to use. Lisa Ann stands under the neon N.S.W.P. logo that cuts into the dry night like a laser beam. Lisa Ann looks around the parking lot and wasting no time, she bursts into a lengthy gait, stretching her long legs, she easily leans from side to side as she navigates between parked cars with crisp agility. ‘Almost to my car, just a few more feet.’ The loud crash obliterates the windows of Lisa Ann’s ‘92 Toyota Camry without much resistance. Lisa Ann flinches, shielding her eyes from peppering glass that cuts her face to a wispy sallow. The masked Superior who converges from Phantom Phorm stands proudly atop her destroyed hood, dons a silver skulled mask and matching suit with the number 3 emblazoned on the chest.
“Lisa Ann, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave. Furher’s orders,” says the Superior dryly and without the slightest hint of emotional sympathy. He hunches forward to try and enforce his foreboding presence over the gorgeous redhead. Lisa Ann tosses her hand forward, expecting the Superior to be blown away by her dazzling Starpower, with no success. No.3 stares blankly like he was brainwashed by the N.S.W.P.’s mental reprogramming. “Lisa Ann, look around you. You’re outnumbered.” Lisa Ann looks around, setting her eyes on the only Superior who caught her attention, the man with illuminating orange eyes. Lisa Ann heard rumors of a Superior who’s able to terminate abilities once eye contact’s been established. Lisa Ann sinks to her knees on the parking lot pavement, awaiting her gruesome fate.
“Clear a path, clear a path.” A too familiar muffled voice rings out in the distance. The Mad Doctor explodes from the N.S.W.P. double wide doors like an emblazoned General. Walking forward, he scolds Lisa Ann. “Tsk, tsk, Lisa Ann. Honestly, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. Why are you running away?” Lisa Ann looks around nervously, grasping for straws of thought.
“I was scared.” The Mad Doctor looks around and seemingly chuckles as he coaxe
s his assets to laugh in unison at the bad lie.
“Lisa Ann, you’re in the most secure citadel in the world, what’s there to be scared of? Unless you happened to witness what went on between me and a certain superpowered individual.” Lisa Ann doesn’t acknowledge the question, she shies away from meeting Andrew’s eyes, sticking her attention to the pavement. “Lisa Ann, you meddled where you shouldn’t have. For that, there must be consequences. Let this small infraction be a lesson to you. My men will have their way with you. You’d probably like that though, wouldn’t you? Whore! You think because you’re pretty and men have needs, you can manipulate us without repercussions?! You’re all whores! Only good for one thing, and one thing only... You test me with that snail you sling from nectared nests. Sugar, I’m not eating your frosting. Huh… maybe afterward, Nefarious can exert his passion on you, seeing as the two of you are suspiciously connected. But you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?” Lisa Ann looks up to meet the Mad Doctor’s eyes, her passion turns to defiance and that defiance blooms with rose petals of blossoming rage at her being conned by the N.S.W.P. Tears of disappointment sting her cheeks, running amok down her heart-shaped chin.
“You’re not a man, you’re a goddamned animal.” The Mad Doctor nods his head, not disputing the claim. Staring into Lisa Ann’s eyes, he can’t help but think to himself, those resentful eyes are trademark Nefarious. The Mad Doctor breathes in, now feeling more agitated than playful at the constant mention of Nefarious Warstar, the man he secretly envies.