Fiasco Heights

by Zack Archer

  I didn’t want to intrude, but then Lyric grabbed me and pulled me into the woman.

  “Don’t be ashamed, Quincy,” she cooed. “You’ve killed a marked man, a supervillain. You’ve earned this. We both have. This is the Wanton Pool, a place where we come to lose ourselves.”

  “But what about…” I said, trailing off.

  She smiled. “What about…what?”

  I blushed. “Shouldn’t I…I mean, shouldn’t we—”

  “You mean…protection?” the Asian woman asked.

  I nodded and they laughed. “The Caul doesn’t block all of the radiation, Quincy,” Lyric said. “Some of it seeps through which means—”

  “Most of us are sterile,” the other women said.

  “Which means there’s no need for protection,” Lyric said. “Just love.”

  Sandwiched between them, I devoured Lyric, kissing her mouth, sucking the nipples on her oversized breasts as she pumped my dick and the other woman rubbed my nipples while sticking her hand between my ass cheeks.

  I noticed at that moment, a kind of music was filtering down from overhead. It almost sounded like electronica.

  A padded bench rose up from the water (those crafty superheroes had thought of everything!) and Lyric grabbed the edges of it with her arms. She cupped my balls and spread her legs and then she guided my dick into her snatch, moving it out, pulling it in.

  “This is just another kind of training,” Lyric said. “You have to control your powers. You have to find a way to focus and make it last.”

  Moving to the sound of the music, I felt the kind of ecstasy I’d only dreamt about before. I also felt totally free for the first time in my life. I mean there I was, having sex while being surrounded by other men and women and I didn’t give a damn because time seemed to have come undone in the grotto. There were no concerns or fears, there was just the three of us, making love to the sounds of the music and the tumbling water.

  Lyric wrapped her muscular arms around me as I thrust into her. She let go of me to squeeze her nipples, arched her back, and cried out, continuing to exhort me, telling me that the secret to control, to longevity, was concentration and form.

  The other woman reached around, and I tasted her tongue which was wet, hot, and strange. She said she needed me and so I pulled out of Lyric and took her up in my arms.

  I leaned back against the bench as the other woman, who was smaller, mounted me and we went at it. Though slighter in frame, she was just as firm and powerful as Lyric, who fingered herself and sucked on my nipples while watching us.

  I have no idea how long we did the deed, but the honey-like substance Lyric had shoved down my throat was working. I was in the throes of white-hot passion, fucking the hell out of two beautiful girls, lasting longer than I ever had before.

  I had my hands wrapped around the Asian woman’s hair, powering myself into her as Lyric inserted something into my ass. I gasped, but didn’t let up, snared in the frenzy as the three of us moaned and screamed, building to a climax which I hoped would last forever.

  But all good things have to come to an end (literally), and I could feel a powerful force welling up inside me.

  I was about to explode all over the woman. Lyric could sense that I was nearing the end because she was smacking the other woman’s ass, urging her on, telling her to get ready for what was coming…and that’s when it happened.

  Just as I felt like my entire body was going to erupt, I noticed something.

  A change in the quality of the air.

  The others didn’t seem to sense it initially, but I did.

  The sound of metal on metal.

  Something was coming, and no it wasn’t me.

  Something big was on the way.

  And then the other people, the ones in the water, and those strolling amiably by on the walkway beyond the edge of the grotto, suddenly collapsed, struggling for air.

  And then there was another change in the air.

  Less of it.

  Less oxygen.

  I gasped for air and Lyric’s mouth peeled back in terror.

  “GET OUT OF THE WATER!”

  “WHY?!”

  “THE MORNINGSTARS ARE HERE!”

  18

  My brain scrolled down a mental checklist at warp speed, and then I recalled someone mentioning something about a villain and oxygen.

  Threshold!

  Yes, that was it. There’d been a bad guy who could remove oxygen from a room, hadn’t there? Yes, yes, one of the guys who helped kill Greylock! I knew that was what was happening, that I was having trouble breathing and the others were falling unconscious or semi-conscious because someone was sucking the oxygen from the room!

  Before we could react, the shadows at the edges of the grotto lengthened and began swirling in the air. They writhed and twisted as a strong wind built, feeding off the grotto’s warm air. The energy created a spinning cyclone that lay at the center of a dense wall of gray clouds.

  “IT’S THE SHOWSTOPPER!” Lyric yelled.

  She swam through the water, headed toward her rifle which was on the lip of the grotto.

  I tried to move, but I was rooted in place, even though I was able to breathe fully again.

  The shadows, a corkscrew of dark energy you see, had somehow crept across the water, breaking apart into coal-colored tendrils that swirled and wrapped themselves around my midsection. I couldn’t move.

  And then the oily water began to change.

  A gray film crept over the water’s surface, sweeping over the faces and bodies of the other people who’d passed out and were bobbing like corks.

  The water was turning into something else, something that looked suspiciously like metal!

  I screamed for Lyric and the other woman to run for their lives, to get the hell out of the water.

  Lyric hauled herself up out of the pool, but the other woman we’d been with wasn’t so lucky.

  She fought through the water, swinging her arms, trying to swim as the gray film rolled toward her like an avalanche.

  “Help me!” she wailed, gesturing wildly to Lyric. “Help me!”

  Lyric reached back and down, but it was too late.

  The gray film rose up and crashed down over the woman (and several others), the woman’s body instantly going rigid. With one final movement she pivoted, and I bit back a yell because she’d become a pewter statue, her beautiful mouth wrenched open in a silent scream.

  The gray film swept over every portion of the water except for a few feet around me.

  I was naked and locked in place.

  Even though the coal-colored tendrils had melted away, I couldn’t move for risk of being turned into a lawn ornament.

  My eyes darted across the metal pool, and I was grateful to see Lyric, very much alive and crawling into her clothes while clutching the assault rifle.

  “They’re here, Quincy!” she called, raising her rifle in the direction of a dark hallway. “I can see—”

  The cyclone exploded into a powerful but controlled gust of wind that picked up Lyric and all of the other unconscious and semi-conscious bathers like toys and carried them off down the pathway. I listened to her screams rise and fall, growing faint, before fading away completely.

  And then I heard another sound.

  Laughter.

  Coming from the dark hallway and then—

  Two figures blitzed into view. They didn’t really fly, they just seemed to bound forward, propelled by the hi-tech, black and silver boots they wore.

  They were accompanied by a figure in a black suit that resembled an S&M outfit/black and a ski mask contraption. That figure stayed in the shadows, encircled by blue mist, and in my gut I knew it was probably Threshold. The oxygen thief.

  Plumes of silver gas blasted the two figures ten feet into the air and then they pinwheeled down and landed with a THUD! on the now metal surface of the grotto’s pond.

  One of the men was balding with a goatee, and the other was younger by a goo
d ten years with a platinum crewcut, his eyes hidden behind dark wraparounds. They were dressed in black singlets with raised collars that, strangely, made them look like a couple of preppy douchebags from an old 80s fraternity movie.

  They were also large and ripped, looking as if they’d been extruded from some muscle-making machine. Instantly, I knew I was in the presence of Damnation Man’s brothers: The Showstopper and Madcap.

  Incensed at what they’d done to Lyric and the others, I raised my arms, intent on teaching the brothers a lesson.

  Sounds muted as before, and the colors all around me blossomed.

  I smiled as the air shimmered, waiting to kick the shit out the villains and knock those goddamn collars down.

  Conjuring up balls of blue energy, I shrieked at The Showstopper and Madcap and hurled the energy at them.

  Madcap reacted by swiping a hand left to right, as if swatting a fly, obliterating both of the energy balls.

  Pieces of the energy balls scattered across the metal, and The Showstopper picked one of them up. “Interesting,” he yawned, before flicking it aside.

  Then Madcap vaulted over, grabbed me by the throat, and lifted me up into the air. “Gods,” he hissed, examining my nakedness. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

  He cast me sideways, and I hit what had once been the surface of the water and skidded to a stop.

  I reached beyond my rucksack and grabbed my boots, slacks, and shirt, climbing into them when I noticed it.

  Mr. Chops.

  Lyric had evidently dropped my psych totem and he was lying on the ground, a few feet away from the supervillain.

  I turned and peered into the brothers’ glittering, malignant eyes.

  I raised my hands again and Madcap shook his head. “Just…don’t. Do not embarrass yourself, Quincy.”

  “You–you know my name?”

  Madcap laughed. “Wouldn’t you expect me to know the name of the guy who killed my brother? Besides, I found this,” he said, holding up my “Quincy X. Fletch” nameplate, which he melted by pressing it together between his fingers.

  My legs felt like jelly and I fought to dredge up just the right words. “I…I’m sorry about your brother,” I squeaked.

  Madcap smiled and looked at The Showstopper. “Hey, Show, the kid says he’s sorry.”

  The Showstopper took this in, a solemn look stamped on his face. “Well, sheesh, that takes care of everything then, MC. I mean, if he’s sorry that’s good enough for me. I guess we’ll be on our way then.”

  Madcap’s sarcastic smile wilted, his volcanic gaze ratcheting back to me. “Sorry is what you say when you forget to put the seat up on the toilet, fuckstick.”

  “I don’t know what else to say,” I muttered.

  “How ‘bout telling us the location of that trap bottle our brother went to collect before you removed his name from the Book of Life.”

  “I don’t know where it is.”

  Madcap held out a single finger which was long, almost wand-like, and began twirling it in the air. I watched a tendril of the dark energy from the metal leap up as if on command and then Madcap pointed it toward Mr. Chops.

  The dark energy changed into the gray liquid that quickly swallowed my psych totem up, turning Mr. Chops into a metal figurine.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” I whispered.

  “We’re going to do way worse to you, Quince. Ain’t that right, Show?”

  The Showstopper hovered over me, grinning like a fiend. “I’m thinking maybe you could

  turn his blood or semen into something more substantial…say pins or the tips of razor blades.”

  I shivered at the thought. Madcap pointed to his brother. “Or the big Show over there could just disembowel you with one of his cyclones.”

  “I love it!” The Showstopper shouted, punching at the air. “Taking it back old-school!”

  Madcap hopped over and dropped to his haunches. He held up a finger and created a tendril of dark energy that he brought down on the head of the Asian woman. Her metallic head snapped off, and I turned away.

  “I’m gonna do that to your dick,” Madcap said with a snicker. “Just turn it into a piece of metal, snap it off, and then shove it up your ass. Would you like me to do that to you?

  “No, sir,” I said, wincing.

  Madcap whistled and I turned to face him. “It’s time for some real talk, Quince. Can I call you Quince?”

  “Yes,” I said, quaking.

  “In my experience, most disagreements and conflicts stem from a lack of communication. My brother and I believe you’re laboring under delusions brought about by your interactions with Atlas, Aurora, and the rest of their merry gang.”

  “The S-shadow C-catchers,” I stammered.

  “Which is the worst name ever,” Madcap said. “Makes no sense at all. I mean, how the fuck can you catch a shadow?”

  Madcap looked at The Showstopper who threw up his hands and then gave a thumb’s down sign.

  “I think that’s kinda the point,” I said. “That because it’s impossible to catch a shadow the Shadow Catchers are really hardcore badasses because they can and then—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Quincy. I wasn’t asking for an explanation.”

  I zipped my lips.

  “We’re not the bad guys here,” Madcap said, breathing hard as if he was trying to contain himself from exploding.

  “You mean … you’re not villains?”

  Madcap shrugged. “One man’s villain is another man’s hero. It’s all about perspective. For instance, would you call the people who liberated their world from a tyrant in order to obtain more freedom for everyone else, villains?”

  “I guess not,” I replied.

  “But that’s exactly what we’ve done.”

  “But you murdered Greylock, didn’t you?”

  Madcap’s jaw locked. “Fake news. Greylock was a dictator who tortured, killed, and imprisoned people like us.”

  “Besides, how can you murder a murderer?” The Showstopper said, throwing up his hands.

  My head was spinning. My eyes pinballed between Madcap and Showstopper, trying to get a read on the situation, but their faces were as blank as spilled milk. I began to wonder whether they were telling the truth. Doubt crept into my mind. I didn’t really know Aurora and the others, did I? Who was to say their version of events was the accurate one?

  “The others said you wanted to blow up that thing that blocks the radiation,” I muttered.

  “The Caul,” the Showstopper said. “It’s unnatural.”

  “An abomination,” Madcap offered. “A device designed and implemented by the one percent to keep the other ninety-nine down. How would you like it if some distant ruler put up a barrier to prevent you from becoming all that you could be?”

  “I guess I’d be pissed.”

  “You’re godsdamned right you would be!” Madcap said, laughing, slapping his hands together. “You’d be pissed because you’ve got balls, because you don’t want to turn out like all the others around here, hiding down in this fucking hole—”

  “Defanged, living off the fat of the land,” the Showstopper said through bared teeth. “Satisfied with being a second-fucking-class citizen.”

  Madcap pointed at me. “We’ve seen what you’re capable of, and if you help us out we’re willing to wipe the slate clean, to forget about what you did to Damnation Man, who, if we’re being completely honest, could be a real prick most of the time.”

  “You want me to what? Come work for you?”

  The brothers smiled. “Why not? We’ll mentor you in the mysteries of the universe. And when the Big Dread assumes the throne, you’ll be seated at our right hand. How does that sound?”

  I had to admit, Madcap was a natural born salesman. The dude had a great cadence and a smile that put you at ease, and for a moment I envisioned heading off with the brothers, to explore the galaxy, and reap untold riches in the services of Big Dread and—

  Fuck that.


  I’d seen what they’d done to Lyric and the others, including the Asian woman whose raggedly decapitated head was peering at me in agony, her body encased in metal. The bastards had killed innocent people for no good reason at all. They were murderers, and there was no way in hell I was going to start licking their admittedly big-ass boots.

  “How long do I have to decide?” I asked.

  “Gods, you are such a loser, Quincy. Fine. You’ve got the same amount of time it took for you to turn our brother into a briquet,” Madcap answered. “Five seconds. This is a card you get to play only once so choose wisely, my man.”

  Shit!

  I had to do something, but there was no way I could take the brothers out. They were too big and powerful.

  I was completely and absolutely fucked.

  But the one thing I did have going for me, was that I rarely broke. What I mean is, after undergoing hours of training as a security guard, I was able to maintain focus during the most difficult situations, to keep my head when everybody else around me was losing theirs.

  So, without sweating or trembling, I calmly reached down into my pocket and pulled it out.

  The can of pepper spray I’d grabbed from my locker at the Pythia building.

  It was all I had.

  I held the can of pepper spray up.

  “What is that?” Madcap asked, suppressing a snort.

  “Perp spray.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Open your eyes and I’ll show you.”

  I waited with baited breath, and he did it! The dumbass actually opened his eyes fully and looked down at the nozzle on the perp spray.

  I let him have it.

  “HERE’S TO YOU, ASSHOLE!” I shouted

  There was a burst of aerosol, and then a huge wad of capsicum erupted from the end of the little can and splashed Madcap in the eyes.

  Nothing happened for two seconds, and it dawned on me that the villains probably have some special kind of eye protection. I quickly pondered all of the terrible things the brothers were about to do to me—

  And then Madcap reacted.

  He shrieked like a little girl and clawed at his eyes.

  “IT BURNS!” he wailed. “IT FUCKING BURNS!”