Teacher

"Is this really necessary?" Pablo asked, shaking his shackles in the back of the squad car.

"You know it is," the officer said, unwilling to take her eyes off the road. "We can't have anyone find out what you actually do."

"You know when I agreed to train your young heroes, I was hoping to actually enjoy the perks of being apart of Hero's Inc. Not still be considered a low-level villain that needed to be arrested from time to time."

"We needed to maintain your cover," she said, driving down a ramp to a bunker entrance. 

The silver door rolled up as they approached, revealing the inside of the dimly lit parking garage. She drove past the rows of parked squad cars and stopped at the end of the row with a normal door that seemed almost out of place in the solid wall. A loud beep went off inside the squad car and Pablo's shackles fell into his lap. At the same time, the squad car door opened, letting the stale air into the backseat.

"Don't have too much fun," the officer said, looking in her rear view mirror at Pablo.

"Not to worry, I never do."

Pablo exited the vehicle and stood in front of the odd door. He took a deep sigh. "Today will be better."

***

Standing in front of Pablo were five bright-eyed young heroes. Dressed in a fiery red jumpsuit reminiscent of a daredevil was Rocket. Next to her were four other boys dressed in different monocolor jumpsuits and capes. Pablo never bothered to learn their names, superhero or otherwise. Rocket was the only hero who was worth anything in the entire group. 

"Alright ladies, today we are going to be doing something a little different. Today I'm going to rob a bank and you will all be tasked with stopping me." Pablo took off his watch and tossed it to Rocket. "Give me twenty minutes head start."

A blue gloved hand shot up from the group. "I thought you said we were going to fight real villains. Get some real experience today."

Pablo walked up to him and kicked him straight in the crotch. Beyond the grunts of the young man, a distinct pop and crunch resonated from his groin. The young man toppled to the floor, with his blue cape flung over his head.

"Today, I am a villain. Twenty minutes," Pablo said and walked away.

Rocket helped the young man up while the others snickered at his pain.

"Are you okay, Billy?" Rocket asked.

"I think I'm dying. You're going to have to go on without me. Save yourself," Billy strained to say.

"Always so dramatic," one of the other guys said.

"Get up Billy, You've taken worse," another guy said, dressed in hot pink. 

"You're right. It wasn't that bad," Billy said, clambering back on his feet.

Once he stood upright, his legs gave out, even to Billy's surprise.

"Stop horsing around," Rocket said.

"I'm not," Billy said, trying to get back up to his feet. His legs refused to cooperate, lying limp on the floor. 

The other guys tried to lift him up, but Billy kept falling down.

"What did he do to you?" the hot pink guy said.

"I don't know. But I'm scared," Billy said, with a genuine tinge of fear in his tone. 

"Mackey, you get him to a nurse. The rest of us are going to stop Pablo," Rocket said.

"What about the twenty minutes?" Mackey asked, lifting Billy's arm over his shoulder.

"He gave that up when he hurt Billy," Rocket said.

***

Pablo had been waiting in line for a few minutes. The line at the Bank of Solidum was longer than he anticipated for the time of day, but he figured it would be another obstacle his trainees could work around. He trained them that saving people was a higher priority than stopping the villain, so this environment could be good to evaluate how much they put that into practice. He glanced around the high ceiling bank lobby, admiring the intricate tapestry above, until someone tapped him on the shoulder. 

"Excuse me, you are next," an old lady said. 

"I'm sorry ma'am," he said and went up to the counter. 

"How can I help you?" the bank teller asked.

"I need you to open the vault for me. I am making a withdrawal."

The bank teller snickered. "I'm sorry, sir. You want me to open the vault? What's next, you want a tour?"

"That would actually be excellent," Pablo said, punching through the bulletproof glass and grabbing the bank teller by the collar. 

He slid over the counter and people started to panic, scattering about and yelling. The bank teller fainted, leaving Pablo with a limp body that he held up with some difficulty in one hand. Flying in through the main door was Rocket followed by her fellow heroes.

"Stop right there Pablo," Rocket said, landing on the ground with fire coming from her firetruck red boots. 

Pablo looked to the clock on the wall, realizing they were early. But like all things, nothing goes according to plan.

"You think you can stop me, little girl? You and your band of misfits," Pablo said. 

"Release the man," Rocket said. 

Pablo was proud she prioritized the man in his grip first. The other recruits behind her always seemed to forget about everyone except the target.

"Catch," Pablo said, grabbing the man with both arms and tossing him toward her compatriots. 

Instead of catching him, they dodged out of the way, letting him ragdoll over the tile floor crashing into the door they came through. This pissed Pablo off more. The person he threw was not some weapon, he was a human being. For some reason those guys could not grasp that concept. Rocket was the only one, breaking off to go check on the helpless body on the floor.

"Looks like I need to teach another lesson," Pablo said, jumping back over the counter. The other guys put their dukes up, ready to take him on. That was until the young man in green got vaporized.

A single beam of red and green shot from the ceiling and an entirely neon green man landed on the floor. His eyes glowed white and his black vest made him look like an alien biker. Pablo's eyes grew big, recognizing him instantly. Grazer.

"When will people learn, green is my color, not theirs," Grazer said, holding a white pistol in his hand.

"Grazer, what are you doing here?" Pablo said. 

"A little birdy told me you were training new heroes. I wanted to stop by and see how they were coming along. And it appears, not too good," Grazer said, gesturing to the pile of ash.

"Students, run!" Pablo yelled, charging Grazer. 

Grazer took a few shots at Pablo, but Pablo was too quick, dodging each one before tackling him to the floor. He kept firing his pistol, shooting lasers across the floor. One of them hit it's mark, vaporizing another running hero. Rocket saw Pablo wrestling with Grazer and went in to help. Her rocket boots propelled her toward them and she scooped up the pistol that Pablo dislodged from Grazer's grip.

"Stop. Now!" Rocket yelled, pointing the pistol at Grazer.

Pablo punched Grazer in the back, causing paralysis from the shoulders down. Grazer tried moving his head around as if that was going to get his body to move. It did not.

"You're going to jail," Rocket said.

Grazer laughed. "Pablo, you could have had it all. Instead you decided to train heroes. You know if you kill her now and get me out of here, Jaster won't have to know about this."

Pablo looked over to Rocket who hands were shaking. He didn't know if her fear was from the proposition or hearing Jaster's name come up, but he knew where his loyalty stood.

"I will never abandon my students. You can tell Jaster the next batch of heroes will be stronger than ever," Pablo said in defiance.

"Jaster figured as much," Grazer said. "Execute."

Gunfire could be heard in the streets and cries of terror range out. Pablo knew what was happening. He kicked Rocket's feet out from under her as a bullet flew past where she was standing. That bullet still found it's mark, hitting Grazer in the head. Rocket slammed her shoulder into the floor, accidentally pulling the trigger on the pistol, hitting Pablo in the chest. Instead of vaporizing Pablo all at once, the beam went through him and started eating away at his body.

"No. No. No!" Rocket said, rushing to his side. 

Pablo laid down and tried to control his breathing. Rocket tried to cover the wound but Pablo grabbed her wrist. 

"You can't help me now. Just know, you were always my favorite," Pablo said before he disappeared into nothing more than a black pile of ash.

Rocket cried as she held the ashes in her hands. On the adjacent rooftop, the sniper stopped watching her in his scope and spoke into his radio.

"All teams, retreat. Primary target eliminated."

***

Letter to the mayor

Mayor Cheerheart,

I have added below a confidential eye-witness account of the events that led to Dr. Alvin Vortan's death. Normally I would not waste your time with such a detailed account, but I think it is important that you get the full picture of what happened, unedited from the witness.

Witness Account:

Red Smear was leaving brown smears along the marble floor while he dashed to the toilet in the blink of an eye. Bull Man was throwing up on the table in the middle of the room. Chunks of regurgitated food and green muck filled his plate and splattered around the tablecloth. The rest of the superheroes at the long table put down their forks and spit out any food they still had in their mouths.

"Who poisoned za food?" French Baguette said, slamming his baret on the table. The heroes all looked at each other until a cackle came from the balcony. A man stood up there with a dark trench coat and goggles on his forehead.

"It was I, Dr. Vortan!”

Water Girl and Captain Windmill whispered to each other. The rest of the heroes let out a sigh of frustration. 

"It's okay Dr. Vortan. We forgive you," Captain Windmill said.

"The hell we do! He can't keep getting away with this," French Baguette said, standing up from the table.

Water Girl pulled him back into his seat by his white striped long sleeve shirt. "You know he had a troubled past, with his wife leaving him for a circus performer."

"That doesn't excuse this. Or when he attacked the Brooklyn Bridge. Or the time—"

"Frenchy. Please. Can't you see he is just a kid acting out."

"Speak for yourself, girl. I'm almost three times your age," Dr. Vortan said and jumped down from the balcony. His boots slapped the marble floor, which were hidden by his grey trench coat. He readjusted his goggles on his head. "And I don't need your sympathy."

Water Girl walked around French Baguette and up to Dr. Vortan. She opened her arms and gave him a big hug around his waist. He squinted like her loving hug was causing him real pain and tried to push her arms down. She held on tight until he pushed through her arms that turned to streams of water, soaking his trench coat.

"Unhand me!"

"Not until you forgive yourself. Only then will you get past your wife leaving you for a talking tiger."

Those words hit him hard. Dr. Vortan’s head dropped slightly and his tone turned glum. "It was a lion...and it couldn't even talk."

"See. Just let it out."

"Why won't you just treat me like a normal supervillain? Rough me up. Throw me in jail."

"Because. Deep down you are just a person like the rest of us."

"Bird Guy isn't even a person. He is just a bird with human legs."

Bird Guy stood on the table pecking away at the vomit on Bull Man's plate, unaware of their conversation. 

"Bird Guy, that food is poisoned, remember?" Captain Windmill said.

Bird Guy looked at him and looked back at the plate. He flapped his wings and returned to the platter of vomit. Nothing stopped Bird Guy from a free meal.

"Even so. We all have a dark past. We wouldn't be very good heroes if we couldn't see the good in people," Water Girl finished and released him.

"Screw you guys, I'm leaving. You won't even treat me like a proper villain." Dr. Vortan sniffled and walked away.

"But we aren't done yet. We need to work through this Dr. Vortan."

"I'm done with you all. Consider me retired," Dr. Vortan said and stopped at the restroom door. His eyes followed the brown smear on the floor to the door. At that moment, an idea came to him. One final show of defiance in the face of defeat. He pulled out a handgun from his trenchcoat. "I'm going to kill Red Smear though. That asshat attended my ex-wife's wedding. Screw that guy."

He went inside to the sound of farts and liquid funneling fast into the toilet. Two gunshots rang out and silence settled in. One last farewell toot sprang from Red Smear and no one emerged from that bloody bathroom.

End of Witness Account:

Some say Red Smear turned the gun on Dr. Vortan that day. Others think Dr. Vortan turned it on himself. Either way this was tragic. Those "heroes" never gave him the decency of becoming a proper villain. They weaponized his demons and pushed him over the edge. They must be held accountable for their actions. There must be consequences from your office. Otherwise, I will need to take matters into my own hands.

Sincerely,

Jaster

***

Jaster,

I hope this message finds you in good health and thank you for bringing forth evidence relevant to our investigation. My office is currently investigating this matter and will update you, along with the public, as soon as we know more about the events that occurred involving Dr. Vortan's death. I also want to assure you, if there is any wrongdoing found, they will be punished to the highest level of the law…

Jaster stopped reading and closed his laptop. "If there is any wrongdoing. If."

Jaster punched in some buttons on his phone and listened to the dial tone.

"Mayor's Office, this is Jenny."

"Jaster. Put your boss on the phone."

"I'm sorry he is in a meeting. Can I take a message?"

"He doesn't want me to pay him a visit. Cheerheart, if you're listening you better answer."

There were whispers on the other end of the line. One was an older man who sounded like he was going to piss himself. It went on for only a moment before a door closed in the background.

"Oh, it looks like he just got out. Let me transfer you."

"That's what I thought."

Violin strings pinged on the other end of the line. Before he could fathom what song was playing, it stopped and an older raspy voice spoke.

"Jaster. I got your message. Did you get my response?" Mayor Cheerheart said.

"Oh I did. Hard to read with all that political bullshit in it. Who's cock is in your mouth this time?"

"Jaster, I understand you are upset and think I won't do anything—"

"It's Franz isn't it? I'm sure it is."

"...but I'm put in a delicate spot here."

"No, you're not. Find those heroes guilty. Throw away the key."

"Of what? Showing compassion for someone."

"They were mocking him."

"That's not how I understood it."

Jaster pounded the table. "He was my friend, Cheerheart. His death will not go unanswered!"

The mayor sighed. "Jaster. I can't go around jailing heroes for literally doing their job."

"So, you want me to do something? You sure about that?"

"No! Please no. There must be a compromise we can find."

One of Jaster's henchmen knocked on the door frame and peeked around the corner. Jaster waved him in.

"Water Girl," Jaster said, still talking on the phone, but looking at his henchman.

"Excuse me?"

"Blame Water Girl."

"I can't."

Jaster leaned back in his chair, confident Mayor Cheerheart would agree to his terms. "Not for the killing. But for poisoning her fellow coworkers."

"But your witness even mentions Dr. Vortan by name as admitting to the poisoning."

"Maybe don't use his testimony. Sprinkle a little trace evidence on her clothes at her home."

"I can't be involved in a scandal like that."

"You don't have to. Just send some black and whites to her place. They'll find what they need in her closet. First cabinet under her delicates." Jaster pointed to his henchmen. His henchmen nodded and left his office.

"I...I…"

"Can either get started on that warrant or I will get busy doing what I do best. Your call."

"No. No. Not to worry. I will get Chief Horton on the phone right after this. I assure you this will be handled."

"Glad we could come to an understanding. You have a nice day, Mayor Cheerheart," Jaster said, putting his phone down on the receiver.

He stood up and looked at the map of the city across his messy desk. Water Girl's picture amongst the splattering of photos pinned on the map. He smiled something venomous. "That will teach her for messing with my warehouses on Ocean District."

***