Black Power- The Superhero Anthology

Home > Science > Black Power- The Superhero Anthology > Page 12
Black Power- The Superhero Anthology Page 12

by Balogun Ojetade


  ***

  Doug squinted at his surroundings. He was only able to tell it was day by the tiny amount of light that made it through boarded up windows too high for him to reach. Over to the side, his fellow prisoner sat slumped in a beat up folding lawn chair, rubbing his balding head.

  He guessed they were in an abandoned warehouse, probably near a dock based on the sea air he sometimes got a whiff of. They had been locked in what looked like an office, some cots, chairs, and even a Porta-Potty provided for them. He paced around, his stomach growling. He felt grimy and needed a shower after sleeping in his clothes. He supposed he had a lot to be thankful for though; it could be a lot worse.

  Ed sighed and looked blearily at him. The producer was an older guy with a lot of white in his mustache, beard, and hair. He wore a rumpled orange Hawaiian shirt and jeans. He was there when the Giantess locked Doug in the night before. Doug had seen the story of Ed’s kidnapping a few days earlier on TV, and he had to wonder what that maniac wanted to do to them.

  The lock clicked and the door swung open, the Giantess filling the frame with her massive bulk. She ducked to enter, holding a pair of greasy brown paper bags. The smell of hamburgers and fries hit Doug’s nose and his hunger suddenly became a yawning abyss. He needed food now.

  She tossed the bags to the floor with a sneer. “Got you some lunch,” she muttered. “I hope you’re not vegetarian.”

  “No ma’am,” Doug said quietly as he took one of the bags and opened it. He looked up at the Giantess again and even though she had kidnapped him, he couldn’t help but admire the towering blond Valkyrie. She could have a steady career if she role-played this kind of domineering criminal for guys like him rather than actually being one.

  Ed stood up, an expression of terrified awe on his face. “L-look,” he stammered, “I’ve got a lot of money. I’ve got connections. I can make you a star! Just let us go!”

  She shot him a furious glare and Ed fell silent, backing away. Doug winced, his eyes darting between them.

  “Keep your filthy money,” the Giantess growled. “Ed David, you are as guilty as any criminal for the trash you peddle.”

  “I—what?” Ed retreated behind his little chair but the Giantess made no move toward him.

  The Giantess folded her arms. “The TV series you produce celebrates cruelty and cynicism, teaching viewers that cancer patients are funny and that women hitting men is acceptable.”

  Ed gaped at her, so bewildered that he forgot his fear. Doug was astonished too. All this to complain about TV shows?

  “Lady,” Ed sputtered, “I produce comedies. Don’t you…don’t you know it’s not real?”

  The Giantess stiffened, her mouth twitching, her gray eyes narrowing to slits. Doug shrank back, terrified he was about to see a man beaten to death. Fear returned to Ed as the Giantess slowly approached him, her arms held stiffly at her sides.

  “Listen you,” she whispered. “What you do is portray the most morally indefensible and evil actions as harmless entertainment. The radical feminist garbage you put out wallows in double standards. A man hitting a woman? Evil. A woman hitting a man? Funny, empowering, even sexy. You love to show men as gross losers utterly beneath women, that women can bully men with no repercussions.”

  The accusations struck Doug. In addition to the sheer hypocrisy, the choice of words was horribly familiar.

  She turned to him next. “And you, Doug Loew, or should I say TheDrainiac?”

  Doug’s heart rang in his ears. “I knew this would be about that,” he offered weakly.

  “You’re even worse than David,” she spat. “Your so-called art glorifies – sanctifies – bullying and abuse towards men, treating evil as something to get off on. You just love to show women stealing strength from men to bulk their own muscles up, never considering that this is just another form of rape, but I guess in your world, men can’t be raped. You claim it’s harmless fiction, but it’s not. It’s misandry.”

  Doug backed away, raising his arm futilely. Were his life not in danger, he would have been laughing at the Giantess’ over-the-top dialogue. Seriously, how many times could someone say “evil” in a conversation with a straight face?

  “Even if it’s not your intention,” she whispered almost sadly, “depicting rape against men as entertaining is as bad as real rape. You’re a rapist, Loew, and I have to punish you.”

  Doug swallowed fearfully, knowing just who it was who had captured him.

  ***

  Susan examined TheDrainiac’s gallery. Yup, there was no mistaking it; the illustration from Loew’s portfolio was the same as in the gallery. It was possible that Loew was just a big fan of TheDrainiac’s work and just happened to hide a piece in his portfolio but she was pretty sure they were one and the same; the investigators were requesting TheDrainiac’s data from AllGallery so there would be no doubt.

  She scrolled through the comments until she found TGG09 again and entered the account. This time she looked at TGG09’s journal entries more carefully. The earliest ones complained about various misfortunes in between mentioning progress on artwork and stories. Past a few years worth of entries TGG09 grew gloomier, describing her getting laid off and unsuccessfully looking for a new job. She ranted about the evils of smoking, drug dealers and users, and big business. Finally she started making screeds about art of muscular women she disliked.

  It just sickens me to check my muscle women art groups and find them full of perverse garbage where women beat up, maim, torture, and kill men so maniacs can get off to this. Everyday I’m seeing this and I can’t take it anymore. I’ve contacted the AllGallery moderators to better enforce their rules so this smut can be thrown in the trash where it belongs.

  A follow-up post showed that, for her efforts, not only was no art removed but TGG09 was warned by the moderators for harassing artists. Some of the reply posts supported her but mostly she got people telling her to chill out.

  If you don’t like it, look away sweetheart.

  Its only fetish art. Learn to live with difference!

  Until there’s actually an epidemic of violent muscle women abusing men, I can’t take you seriously.

  TGG09 simply got more extreme, cumulating in her last post to date.

  The First Amendment wasn’t written to support this evil and restrictions of free speech must go into place. We must work together to ban this filth. I’ll prove that it’s not harmless, that we must be vigilant in our entertainment. I’ve been laughed at for daring to make a stand, but I’ll have the last laugh. I truly believe that the supervillains we’re seeing today were created by being desensitized as youths by our corrupt entertainment business and I aim to expose it. The purveyors of this sewage will go to jail right alongside the criminals they helped create. You’ll see I’m right. You’ll see.

  Susan rubbed her eyes with her palms, sick of reading. TGG09 sounded like every supervillain cliché in the book, but if she really was a supremum would she have been capable of carrying out her claims? She did sound angry enough, and if she got powers while especially troubled…

  TGG09. Susan looked at the user name, tapping her finger against the desk, She was more convinced than ever that the AllGallery artist was their suspect.

  ***

  Seagulls cawed and circled lazily overhead as a cool breeze blew through the night, sending Jen’s blond hair flying. Leaning against the rusted railing, she focused on the dark pier, trying to remember what it was like when it was still open and full of life. People laughing and eating ice cream, kids with balloons and playing arcade games. She smiled and clutched her worn coat closer. That was so nice. What a shame it had to close down.

  She shivered in the cold. It was time to leave. Turning from the sad pier, she headed to the sandy path home, a few weak street lamps bathing the way in yellow light.

  A buzzing hum filled the air, and a blue light overpowered the yellow. Squinting, Jen turned around, shielding her eyes. A glowing blue figure stood there, powerfully muscl
ed, arms folded, crackling with electricity.

  Jen gasped and couldn’t suppress a loud giggle. “The Blue Spark! Oh, I am such a fan!”

  Blue Spark nodded in acknowledgement. “Thanks, it’s always nice to know I’ve got fans!” She peered around the dock, her short hair an almost luminescent blue.

  “Pretty lonely here tonight. You aren’t afraid of muggers?”

  Jen grinned. “Nope, not with heroines like you out.” Chuckling some more, she looked Blue Spark in the eye. “So…what are you doing here? Out on patrol?”

  “I’m here to catch a criminal,” Blue Spark answered. “Just wanted to ask some questions. Your name please?”

  “Jennifer Zander. Call me Jen, if you want.”

  Blue nodded. “So Jen, you hear about the recent kidnapping?”

  “How could I miss that?” Jen sighed. “Every time I turn on the news it’s kidnapping, murder, rape…”

  “Sure seems that way sometimes, Jen,” said Blue. “It’s why I’m a superheroine. That and because where I grew up the cops…weren’t too helpful.”

  Jen coughed. It was obscene to hear a superheroine insinuate something bad about the police. Well, Blue was black and sometimes a racist cop would make the rest look bad, but it wasn’t fair to paint them all with the same brush. Growing up, Jen had wished to join the police so badly.

  Really show the bad guys who’s boss…

  “Y-yeah,” Jen said.

  “Well Jen, I thought you could help me out here,” Blue said. “We’ve been doing some searching yesterday, and we have a pretty good idea of what the kidnapper’s like.”

  “Oh, really?”

  Blue nodded. “Yup. We found one of the victims was harassed, bullied even, online by someone very troubled, someone who lost a job and couldn’t find a new one, someone who seems very depressed and decided to blame the media and violent art for the world’s problems.”

  Jen’s eye twitched. Bullied? Bullied!? That wasn’t bullying, that was justice. How could Blue not see that?

  “I can blame the media for problems too,” Blue said. “We make so many movies and TV shows here in Las Costas, yet it’s all about white people unless it’s crime dramas. When I was a kid I almost never got to see anyone that looked like me fighting monsters or exploring space. And don’t get me started on how women are treated, both on and off screen! Yet this person complained that men are getting the short end of the stick. Not even men of color, just men in general. Can you believe that?”

  Jen bit her tongue, wanting so badly to explain how men are constantly depicted as bumbling and less down to Earth than women and how unfair that was.

  “Well this someone,” Blue continued, “used to work at a warehouse along this very pier, a perfect place to hide kidnapping victims. Someone who hated the victims and with access to a place to hide them. Sound familiar, Jen?”

  Jen froze, realizing where this was going.

  “And before that, this someone used to work as a programmer, having the right knowledge to pick up a few hacking skills; just enough to do a little hacking on AllGallery to learn the identities of rival artists. All we need now is evidence that this person is a supremum.” Blue smiled but her gaze was like steel. “I have a feeling I’m gonna get that evidence very soon now.”

  Faster than any normal human, Jen whipped her arm out and struck Blue across her broad shoulder. Blue grunted, taken by surprise at the speed and strength of the attack, clutching her shoulder.

  Jen turned and ran toward the warehouse, determined to keep her prisoners secure.

  Light exploded all around her, blinding Jen. She shielded her eyes as huge lights shined on her from every direction. “Freeze! Put your hands in the air” a woman commanded over a megaphone.

  Jen whirled around, confused and trying to get her sight back. “Wha…?”

  “No point in running, Jen.” Blue strolled up, her mouth a hard line. “We already freed Loew and David. You’re coming with us.”

  Jen’s teeth clenched so hard they went numb. Hot, queasy anger erupted inside her and she let it out in a strangled cry. She took fistfuls of hair, strands tearing off. “How…why…?” she gurgled. “How could you idiots do that?”

  “Hands in the air, now!” the lady ordered again.

  Jen’s hands tightened into fists. Blue took a defensive stance, knowing what was next.

  “Muscle Expansion!” Jen snarled, and her body instantly exploded with bulging sinew. The thin little woman became a hulking behemoth in seconds, bones and muscles stretching as her height increased to over seven feet. Her clothes melted away, replaced with the brown uniform for the LCPD.

  Blue backed up as Jen spread her vast arms joyously and laughed. “Say hello to your new heroine, guys!” she declared. “Call me the Gentle Giantess!”

  ***

  Wood watched the suspect transform through her binoculars and shook her head. Definitely another rogue supremum. Zander even materialized a costume for herself; some kind of psychic manifestation common to suprema.

  “Secure the area but don’t fire on the suspect!” she ordered her soldiers. It wasn’t likely their shots would have much effect on Zander now that she transformed. All they could do was keep people away from the area.

  ***

  Blue couldn’t help but marvel at her opponent. Jen had become a perfect recreation of her own AllGallery character. She had fought some strong suprema before but this was the first woman with muscles comparable to her own, maybe even a bit bigger. She gave a whistle.

  “Hey, do we have to fight, Jen?” she asked, hands raised. “Can’t we just trade bodybuilding tips? I’d love to know where you work out.”

  Jen growled, her eyes gleaming dangerously. “Sorry Blue, but if you’re not with me, you’re against me!” She made a clumsy lunge that Blue sidestepped.

  “Who said I’m against you?” Blue asked. “I wanna help you! We could use guys like you at SCAR. You just have to, you know, stop kidnapping people for making stuff you don’t like!”

  “I don’t need help!” Jen stomped petulantly, the impact forceful enough to shake the ground. She grinned and curled her massive arms. “I don’t know how but I’m a supremum now. I don’t have to rely on anyone else! I can finally make a difference!”

  “No one knows how suprema are made,” Blue interjected. “You’d help the world so much more if you let SCAR examine you so we can know.”

  Blue circled around, Jen following her, breathing heavily. “How’d you find me anyway?” Jen demanded.

  “Now that’s an interesting question.” Blue wagged a finger. “SCAR got a lucky break at Doug Loew’s apartment, finding some of his fetish art, which matched the style of TheDrainiac. AllGallery admins confirmed that TheDrainiac and Loew were one and the same, and I noticed the user TGG09 harassed him a few times. TGG09. Short for the Gentle Giantess 09? That got me wondering, and another confirmation from the admins brought you to our attention, and what do you know! Jennifer Zander used to work at the pier warehouse, maybe even keeping the keys after it closed down. Just the place to hide a pair of kidnapping victims! Some agents scouted the place out while you went on a walk and found signs of habitation. Then I arrived to distract you while our guys extracted David and Loew, and here we are!”

  Blue allowed herself a smirk. “You’re not cut out for the life of a supervillain, so you really ought to give up now.”

  Jen’s eye twitched. “I…am…not…a supervillain!” she bellowed, and slammed her foot onto the ground hard enough that it quaked beneath Blue. Thrown off balance a bit, it was enough for Jen. Blue found a right hook swinging toward her head, and ducked. A left hook followed. Strafing to Jen’s right, Blue was ready to retaliate.

  “Blue Knuckle!” she called out, and her fists sparked with blue electricity, enough to seriously burn a normal human. A flurry of punches rained over Jen’s right arm and side, each blow exploding in a shower of sparks.

  Grunting, Jen swatted at Blue in a wide arc, retreating a
step.

  Blue twisted to her right to avoid the hit. She threw up her hands, her palms facing Jen.

  “Blue Buster!” she yelled, and quick bolts of blue electricity launched from her hands. The bolts struck Jen directly, popping on her chest and stomach, each one capable of rendering a common criminal unconscious.

  Jen let out a cry, more annoyed than hurt, and raised her arms to protect her face. She hunched down like a linebacker, then launched forward. Picking up speed, she was coming up much faster than Blue expected.

  Blue ceased firing and stood her ground, tensing up. Right before Jen could ram her, Blue sidestepped her while throwing her left arm out, grasping Jen’s left elbow. The momentum let Blue swing around, slamming into Jen’s chiseled back where she threw her other arm around Jen’s neck. Moving from the elbow to the wrist, Blue yanked Jen’s left arm behind her back. Jen growled, twisting her head around, veins bulging from her thick neck.

  “Give it up, Jen!” Blue demanded. “You may be strong but you lack technique! You can’t win here!”

  Jen responded with a weird strangled cry but managed to turn her head enough to glare hatefully at Blue, and suddenly flipped backwards. Blue’s back smashed into the ground while her front was crushed by Jen’s back, knocking her for a loop. It was enough time for Jen to roll off and deliver a hard stomp on Blue’s solid stomach. A shocked gasp escaped Blue’s mouth, the wind forced from her lungs. Jen might have been unskilled but she hit hard.

  Jen chuckled, eyes twitching. “No one’s…gonna stop me…” she wheezed, “from saving the world!”

  “Hey, nothing wrong with dreaming big,” Blue grunted, and Jen ground her heel into Blue’s stomach.

  “Laugh while you can,” Jen sneered. “Once I lock up everyone responsible for cruel, cynical media, everyone will see how much better life is without them. You won’t see any more supervillains if everyone had wholesome entertainment that promotes good values!”

  Blue gurgled, the pressure on her stomach absolutely crushing. Each breath was torture. She reached for Jen’s leg, her fingertips brushing Jen’s pants.

 

‹ Prev