Victory Anna finally found her voice, demanding, “Is no one else here troubled by the presence of a topless glowing woman?”
“You get used to it,” said Velveteen.
“Besides, topless girl gets results,” said Jackie triumphantly, as she twisted the wire and the lock clicked. “Your previously locked room awaits.” She pushed the door open. The others crowded inside while she was putting her bra back on. “Uh, you’re welcome?”
None of the others said anything. Feeling suddenly exposed—and woefully unprepared for a fight, since a single underwire did not a full arsenal make—Jackie crowded in after them, and suddenly understood their silence.
The room was covered in blood. It was splattered on the walls and ceiling, and had pooled in inch-deep puddles on the floor. There were no bodies. That was really the best thing any of them could think to say…at least until Victory Anna’s gleeful squeal of, “I think I see a hacksaw!” She went charging into the room, ignoring the fact that she was walking through blood, and snatched a, yes, blood-covered hacksaw from one of the counters. “Well? What are you waiting for? You can’t be squeamish, we’ve a friend to rescue.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but I miss Halloween,” said Velveteen, and started into the room with the others close behind.
Very shortly, the four of them were heading down the hall at a jog, moving toward where they’d last heard the sound of screaming. They were all blood-splattered. It showed up most on Jackie, whose white lingerie seemed perfectly designed to display the blood to its best advantage. Besides Victory Anna’s prized hacksaw, they had found a butcher knife (Vel), a fireplace poker (Princess), and a crowbar ( Jackie). It was nice to be armed. It would have been even nicer to know where they were going.
“I should never have let you stop me,” said Victory Anna. “She hasn’t screamed since we unlocked that door. Had you noticed? She hasn’t screamed.”
“Actually, the screams stopped—” began Jackie, and stopped when the Princess shot her a nasty look. “I’m sure she’s fine,” she said lamely.
“And if she’s not? What then?”
“Torrey…” Velveteen’s attempt at an answer was cut off by the hockey-masked figure who burst out of a door ahead of them, charging into the hall. He had a meat hook in one hand and a machete in the other…and a blonde woman in rainbow-striped lingerie on his back, her knees anchored on his shoulders and a strip of barbed wire wrapped around his neck. The man in the hockey mask was screaming in pain as he ran. Sparkle Bright was shrieking in fury and triumph—and probably a little pain of her own, since her hands were clearly bleeding.
The masked man didn’t seem to register the presence of the additional superheroes, maybe because he was so distracted by the one in the process of throttling him. He kept charging, forcing them to scatter to the sides of the hall. Sparkle Bright looked back as he plowed onward, and snarled, “You guys want to give me a little help here?”
“She’s magnificent,” breathed Victory Anna.
“She’s getting away!” said Velveteen, and charged after the pair, trying to stab the masked man in the back of the leg as he ran. She missed. As she didn’t stab either herself or Sparkle Bright in the process, it was classifiable as a win.
“Allow me,” said the Princess, running daintily past her and whacking him as hard as she could in the ankle with her poker. The masked man stumbled and howled. Sparkle Bright adjusted her grip and pulled. And Jackie ran up and hit the man in the back of the head with her crowbar. He howled one last time before going over like a felled tree.
Sparkle Bright released her barbed wire garrote, shaking her punctured hands as she climbed off the fallen mountain of a man. “That sucked,” she declared, and turned a scowl on the other superheroes. “Where the hell have you guys been? I thought I was all alone in here, at least until Chuckles,” she kicked the man in the back of the head, “showed up and started trying to machete me to death. Asshole. Slasher movies are so sexist.”
“We didn’t know you were in here with us until we heard you screaming,” said Velveteen. She looked back in the direction that Sparkle Bright and the machete man had come from. “Does he have, like, a slaughter room back there?”
“I didn’t check,” said Sparkle Bright frostily.
“Okay. Well, where there’s a masked man with a machete, there’s usually a room full of things that make it easier to vivisect nubile young girls. Victory Anna.” Vel turned to the gadgeteer, who was trying to stare at Sparkle Bright without looking at her. It was a neat trick, and under normal circumstances, Vel would have enjoyed watching it for a while longer. Considering the situation, it was better to show mercy. “Torrey, Princess, I want you to go see if you can find us something to tie this guy up. Rope or chains or duct tape or something. It’s got to be in his torture kit.”
“You know more about torture kits than I’m really happy with, sugar,” said the Princess.
“I’ve spent a lot of time in Halloween.”
“Come on, hurry hurry, we’ve got a lot to do,” said Victory Anna, speaking so fast that all her words ran together. She grabbed the Princess’s hand and hauled her away down the hall, leaving Vel, Sparkle Bright, and Jackie alone with the fallen would-be killer.
“She doesn’t like me very much, does she?” asked Sparkle Bright, before kicking the man in the head again. Jackie and Vel both blinked at her. She shrugged. “What? He looked like he was waking up.”
The man hadn’t so much as stirred. It seemed better not to point that out. “It’s not that she doesn’t like you, Sparks,” said Vel, choosing her words carefully. “It’s more a matter of…”
“She likes you too damn much, and when you’re standing here dressed in six scraps of cotton candy and a Gay Pride flag, it takes every ounce of Victorian repression the girl has not to throw you up against a wall and kiss you until your head explodes,” said Jackie laconically.
“Uh,” said Sparkle Bright.
“Jackie, some of us are capable of expressing affection without resorting to sexual assault,” said Velveteen.
“Uh,” said Sparkle Bright.
“Hand-holding, cold showers, and sappy poetry are probably about your speed, yeah,” said Jackie. “I remind you, I’m the one who dates regularly, you’re the one currently on…what, your second boyfriend? Ever? So maybe I’m the authority here.”
“Victory Anna has a crush on me?” said Sparkle Bright. “But we only just met!”
The other two turned slowly to look at her, Vel’s eyes widening, Jackie’s cheeks flushing a slightly darker shade of blue. “Yeah, about that…” began Jackie.
The man on the floor groaned. Sparkle Bright kicked him briskly in the side of the head. “What about that?” she asked.
“We found tape!” announced the Princess, coming back down the hall with an armload of duct tape. Victory Anna was close behind, her own arms loaded down with loops of rope.
“We’ll tell you later,” Velveteen assured her.
Sparkle Bright looked unconvinced.
Fifteen minutes later, the machete-wielding mountain of a man was securely tied to a chair that Victory Anna had produced from one of the side rooms, and the others were standing around, waiting for him to wake up. The Princess had bandaged the wounds on Sparkle Bright’s hands with strips torn from her nightgown.
“I could freeze his eyelashes,” Jackie offered. “That usually wakes people up, and even when it doesn’t, it makes me feel better.”
The man groaned. Conversation stopped as the five superheroines turned to see what would happen next. He tried to stand. The ropes and tape held him in place. He tried again. The ropes and tape still held. He stopped struggling.
Velveteen stepped forward, leaning close enough to see his eyes through the holes in his mask. “Did you bring us here?” she asked. “Because we need you to send us back, right now.”
“Or what?” he rumbled, in a voice like a broken trash compactor.
“Oh, honey. Or
nothing,” said the Princess. “You’re going to send us home, because it’s the right thing to do. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. Also because the little redhead found a pair of bolt cutters, and she’s in a bit of a mood. It’s in everyone’s best interests, really.”
“You wouldn’t,” said the man, sounding less sure of himself. “You’re good guys.”
“I’m freelance,” said Jackie.
“I was technically a supervillain for a while,” said Velveteen.
“I still am,” said Victory Anna.
“I just quit The Super Patriots,” said Sparkle Bright.
“I am sweetness, light, and compassion incarnate,” said the Princess. “That’s why I’m going to go clean a few rooms in this hellhole while you and my friends have a nice long talk about what you’ve done.” She turned her back as if she was going to walk away.
“Wait!” yelped the man. The Princess turned to face him. His voice seemed higher now, more like a teenager’s than an adult’s. “Don’t go! If you go…”
“My friends will take you apart. I know. But as long as I’m not here to see it, I don’t have to know.” The Princess shrugged. “Loopholes.”
“I…crud.” The man sagged against his bonds. They were looser now, because he was getting smaller, dwindling from an impossible juggernaut to a skinny teenage boy. He didn’t fight at all when Sparkle Bright reached out and took his mask away. He just raised his head, looking at her helplessly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really going to hurt you.”
“So what, the machete is your version of a bunch of daisies?” asked Jackie. She crossed her arms. “Uncool, dude. Way uncool.”
“You’re a reality-manipulator, aren’t you?” asked Velveteen. He nodded, looking ashamed. “Got a thing for horror movies?” He nodded again. “And that’s why you created an extradimensional space where you could play out a horror movie of your own. Why us? What made you go for a bunch of superheroes?”
“I…I wanted it to be extra fun. Crossovers are always the best.”
“Did you stop to think that it wouldn’t be much fun for us?” He didn’t say anything. Vel sighed. “Yeah, I thought not. Okay. The way I see it, we have two options here. Option one, we kill you, find a mirror, and have Jackie take us home by way of Santa’s Workshop.”
“I like that option,” said Jackie.
“I don’t!” the teenager protested.
“Option two, you unblock our powers, send us all home, and you promise never to abduct someone for your sick games again. Because if you do—if you even think about it—I will know, and I will find you.” Velveteen’s smile seemed to have a few too many teeth. “Deal?”
“You’re the one who controls toys,” said the teenager. “Why are you the scary one?”
“Practice,” Vel said. “Do we have a deal?”
“Deal,” he whispered. “Just untie me.”
Velveteen stepped back. “Torrey?”
“This is a terrible idea,” said Victory Anna, before stepping forward and cutting the boy’s bonds with his own machete. They fell away, even the tape, which should have stuck until someone pulled on it. The room froze. The air shimmered.
And the five blood-drenched, lingerie-clad superheroines were suddenly standing in front of Powell’s City of Books in downtown Portland. “Hey, ladies!” shouted someone from a passing car. “Nice tits!”
Victory Anna shrieked and attempted to cover herself with her arms. Velveteen groaned, putting a hand over her face. At the same time, Jackie spread her arms and announced, “Yes! Look in awe upon what you will never touch! Genetics have been kind!”
“Stuff it, Sexy Smurf,” snapped the Princess. “I’m going to go find us some kind of gourd or melon to turn into a ride.” She stomped off.
“So this is the freelance life, huh?” said Sparkle Bright to Velveteen, smiling wanly at a pair of pedestrians who were openly staring. “Fun.”
“There’s usually a little less gore,” said Velveteen, hand still over her face. “I need a shower. And a shirt. A shower, a shirt, and a long, long nap.”
“Sounds good. I just had one question, while we wait for the Princess to come back with a pumpkin or whatever.”
“What?”
“Don’t these things usually have sequels?”
Velveteen lowered her hand and stared at her friend, who shrugged.
“Just saying,” said Sparkle Bright.
“I’m sleeping with a baseball bat from now on,” said Velveteen. Sparkle Bright laughed, and together, they all waited in the bright sun for their carriage home.
VELVETEEN
vs.
Vegas
“THIS IS A TERRIBLE PLAN,” said Sparkle Bright.
“I don’t normally make a habit of agreeing with Stripy the Rainbow Clown, but kid’s got a point,” said Jackie. She crossed her arms, trying to glare Velveteen into submission. “You’re not what I’d call one of the world’s top ten all-time planners, and even for you, this is a terrible plan. Most people need to work to come up with a plan this bad. Why do you think this is a good idea?”
“We need leverage on The Super Patriots if we want to have a case when they figure out where Sparkle Bright has gone to ground,” said Velveteen—aka “Velma Martinez,” “The Super Patriots, Inc.’s Most Wanted Deserter,” and, when she was feeling particularly snarly, “The Bride of Chucky” —not budging. “Vegas can give us what we need to even the odds.”
“Vegas doesn’t help anyone but Vegas,” said Jackie. “They invented ‘the house always wins.’ If you go to Vegas expecting to come out on top, you’re either stupid or delusional, and I honestly couldn’t tell you which one it is. Don’t do this.”
“What would you prefer, Jackie?” Velveteen gestured to Sparkle Bright. “They’re going to come for her. Not ‘might.’ Not ‘could.’ Going to. I already lost her once. I’m not willing to stand by and let it happen again. That means we need leverage, and the only place we’re going to get it is in Las Vegas. It’s neutral territory.”
“You have a responsibility to Portland,” said Jackie. “I’m not going to stay here and do your job for you because you feel the need to hare off like an idiot.”
“You don’t need to stay here,” said Sparkle Bright. The other two turned to look at her. She shrugged. “I’m here. Victory Anna is here. Tag and Jory are here. Four superheroes should be able to keep Portland in one piece long enough for Vel to get to Vegas and back with whatever it is she’s hoping to find. I still don’t think this is a good idea. I also don’t think that there’s anyone in this world who can talk Vel out of a course of action once she digs her heels in. All we’re doing is wasting time trying.”
“Finally, someone speaks sense,” said Velveteen. She smiled toothily at Jackie. “You head for the North Pole and annoy the elves. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Maybe, but until I do, I’m going to do my damnedest to do the right thing.” Velveteen shrugged. “That means I’m heading for Las Vegas. And whatever happens there, it’s sure as hell not going to stay there.”
Jackie Frost shook her head, and didn’t say anything more.
Prior to the appearance of the “Big Three”—Supermodel, Majesty, and Jolly Roger—there were no known superhumans in the United States. Even taking into account the holiday-themed heroes who claim to have existed for as long as mankind has been capable of commemorating seasonal events, the population of North American superhumans has been rising steadily since the Big Three made the scene. Perhaps unsurprisingly, these superhumans have often chosen to settle in large metro areas, where they can enjoy the company of their peers and commit or thwart super-powered crimes on a regular basis. New York, San Francisco, Detroit, and Toronto sport some of the densest superhuman communities on the continent.
And then there is Las Vegas.
Considered “neutral ground” by heroes and villains alike, this is a city where the flashier, more exotic su
perhumans tend to make their homes. Resident heroes include Vaudeville, with her glitter and flash, as well as Dame Fortuna, with her elegant, impossible probability manipulation. For all their unique glories, the city’s superhumans are often ignored in favor of the mundane glories of the Strip, which is, after all unique. Everyone has heroes at home, but how many people can say the same of Caesar’s Palace? The superhuman community can relax in Las Vegas, knowing that they will never become the headline attraction. They like it that way.
Interestingly enough, the high density of probability manipulators in Vegas—at least eight at last count, including Dame Fortuna, her daughter, Lady Luck, and Lady Luck’s husband, Fortunate Son—has resulted in The Super Patriots, Inc. having serious trouble establishing a true foothold in the area. Oh, nothing has ever been proven, but after losing eight branch offices to freak accidents (including the historically ridiculous Guinea Pig Stampede), they’ve stopped trying. The heroes of Las Vegas live untroubled by corporate regulations.
That doesn’t mean they aren’t aware of what’s going on elsewhere in the superhuman community, or that they’re not willing to get involved. For a price.
The Princess was able to get Velveteen to the city limits and no further, due to some complicated flight pattern registry that required a bunch of certifications for anyone who wanted to pilot a flying carpet within Las Vegas proper. Velveteen found herself dropped quite unceremoniously at the place where natural desert met aggressive landscaping. She sighed, waved after the departing bit of home decor, and began to walk.
She hadn’t gone very far before she started doubting the wisdom of this plan, since the sun was high and merciless, and she was far enough from the Strip that no one was investing in public misters. Grumbling, she tensed her shoulders and kept going. This was going to be worth it. It had to be.
Hiding her concern from the others was getting harder every day; she was tired all the time from the stress of it all. Sparkle Bright had been a defector from The Super Patriots for almost a month. There was no way they didn’t know where their former team leader was, and there was absolutely no way Marketing was going to let the situation stand. They were going to move, and they were going to do it soon. Velveteen needed to be ready when they did.
Velveteen vs. The Multiverse Page 22