Some Villains Actually Retire

There was no response to his question at first. The only noise around the disheveled old man were some orioles chirping by the nearby pond. A normal person would have never noticed such a sneaky foe. Cranshaw was not a normal person. He knew his past would catch up to him, but he expected it to be more…swift.

The hero's frustration hid behind his ridiculous excuse for a disguise. A strip of black felt partially covered his face. Otherwise he opted to wear a straw hat and overalls like he thought the locals would wear. There was a chance the hero would have blended in if he had more shit on his boots and dirt on his face. Instead he was clean shaven and his clothes looked brand new. Far from normal in this part of the country.

Thoughts swirled in the hero's head on what to do next. He wanted to strike while he had the upper hand, but Cranshaw had a reputation. Traps and cultivating a false sense of security was his specialty. After much internal protest, he went with the best option and his worst skill. Talking.

"Why do you walk to your home? Can't you afford a truck?" the hero asked.

Cranshaw smiled. "Ah, he speaks. Too bad you don't hear good."

"I hear plenty fine!"

"So your listening ain't so good? Or do you always answer a question with another question?"

"What?" The hero said in frustration, confused by his question.

"I asked how long you plan on following me? Or have you forgotten already?"

The hero leapt in the air and landed in front of Cranshaw. Dust kicked up from the dry path upon landing, but did nothing to intimate the old man. All it did was stop him in his tracks. 

"What game are you playing?" The hero asked, pointing his accusatory finger.

Cranshaw looked at the paper bag full of groceries in his arm and then back at the barely masked hero. "Probably solitaire. I would invite you, but it kind of defeats the purpose of the game."

"Don't be smart with me. Or I'll have to rough you up, old man."

Cranshaw broke out into a fit of laughter that brought the hero's enthusiasm down a peg. "What do you think you will gain from that? The code to my 'secret lair.'"

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?" Cranshaw asked, trying to get his laughter under control.

"Your secret lair."

Cranshaw stopped and gave him a dumbfounded look. "Are you serious? You think I have a secret lair?"

"All you villains do!"

Cranshaw shook his head and tried to walk past him. This hero was way off the reservation in more than one way. Clearly he didn't get the memo. I'm retired.

The hero didn't let him pass, pressing his palm against Cranshaw's chest. "I'm not leaving without that location."

Cranshaw could handle the ignorance, but once those hands touched him, it was too late. In an instant, Cranshaw grabbed the offending hand. Bones crunched and snapped under his overpowered grip. The hero fell to his knees in pain, screaming so loud the birds flew away. Cranshaw stared into the hero's eyes, seeing the pain and fear therein.

"Leave me be and I will not rip it off." Cranshaw's voice was stern and his stare was piercing. In his past, such a mercy was reserved for a select few.  

"You'll have to do better than that! I don't quit so easily." The hero tried to rip his hand out of the vice grip, only making matters worse. His wrist bones separated from his forearm, yet did not break the skin, leaving his wrist limp and bruised. "Argghh!"

Cranshaw let go of the worthless hand. This hero was like many he faced. No meaningful power worth a damn, yet an ego the size of a mountain. He kicked the hero once for good measure.

"Go home, kid. If an old retiree like me can hurt you, I imagine you'll end up dead in no time."

"I will never! People like you are why I became a hero in the first place!"

"People like me?" Cranshaw said, wondering what kind of brain washing was going on at Hero's Inc. "Do you have any idea what you are saying?"

"You terrorized the great people of Callen with Jaster for years. They deserve justice!"

"You should be counting your lucky stars I don't tell Jaster about you. My retirement plan is a comprehensive one."

"Villains don't retire. Jaster never did, despite what everyone says. Why would you be any different?"

Cranshaw stepped to the side and picked a bright red apple out of his bag. "Because I'm old. He isn't." He tossed the apple to the hero and walked away, leaving him a parting word of wisdom. "Take my advice and quit this profession. Last thing you want is to end up on Jaster's list."

The hero watched his foe walk away as if it was another day. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't give it his all. Taking the apple he was given, the hero squared himself up and launched it at Cranshaw's head. It was a foolish move.

Cranshaw whirled around to catch it just in time. Without losing momentum, he continued his spin for another rotation and returned it to the sender. With no time to react, the apple hit its target directly in the jaw. It sounded like a baseball being hit out of the park, except instead of cheering fans, there was a morbidly dislocated jaw. The hero moaned in pain and panic as he rolled around in the dirt, unable to utter words or stop his own agony. 

"Consider it an act of mercy…" Cranshaw began and turned to walk away. "An apple a day will keep Jaster away."

***

Consequences of Begging

"Please don't kill me. I slept with your wife!" Kahleed cried in desperation.

Anchor Face lowered his pistol, taken aback by such a strange claim. Especially for being what would have been his last words.

"Come again?"

"I slept with your wife. Don't kill me!"

Anchor Face shook his anvil shaped head. "Wait. You think I would spare you for sleeping with my wife?"

Kahleed nodded. Tears ran down his bloody cheeks onto the asphalt under him while he watched Anchor Face scratch the flat top of his head.

"What is wrong with you? I would have shot you by now if that were true," Anchor Face said.

"But I did."

"No, you didn't."

"I can assure you I did."

"Well, I'm telling you, you didn't," Anchor Face said, putting his hands on his hip. 

"Call her up."

"I can't do that."

"Why? Because you don't want to hear the truth?"

"Because I don't have a wife, dipshit."

Kahleed's eyes got big, realizing that not only was he telling the truth, but the woman he slept with was another villain's wife.

"Oh god...I didn't…"

"Whose wife did you sleep with? Now I'm genuinely curious," Anchor Face said with a smirk.

Kahleed inched forward and grabbed onto Anchor Face's jeans, tugging on him like a child. "Please kill me!"

"What?"

"Please kill me!" Kahleed said, reaching for the pistol.

Anchor Face lifted the pistol above his own head so Kahleed couldn't get to it. Kahleed clawed at him, but was swiftly kicked back onto the ground. Anchor Face stood above him laughing at the newfound desperation Kahleed had. 

"First, you want me to spare you, now you want me to kill you. You are a strange one, you know that?"

"Kill me. Before he finds outs!" Kahleed begged.

"Who is he?"

"Please!"

"You tell me who and I'll kill you. Fair?"

"It was Pharaoh's wife."

Anchor Face laughed. "Which one?"

"Talib."

"Ah, you like them on the curvy side I see."

"I told you, now please. Do it!"

Anchor Face holstered his weapon and took out his phone. He pointed the phone camera at Kahleed and snapped a picture. The flash of light caused Kahleed to blink. 

"What are you doing? We had a deal!" Kahleed said. 

"I will let Pharaoh decide your fate."

"No! Don't!" Kahleed yelled as Anchor Face's phone chimed.

"Well look at that. He is a really fast texter. He says he wants to meet the man who defiled his—" Anchor Face said, before snorting.

"What's so funny?"

"That wasn't his wife. That was his daughter. I'll say that one surprised me too."

"I beg of you. Don't take me back there. My fate will be worse than death."

"Don't worry I would never actually take you back there."

Kahleed sighed. "Thank you."

"He is coming here to pick you up. Personally."

Kahleed sprung up from his knees, lunging at Anchor Face. This was his last opportunity if he was going to avoid the torture Pharaoh had in store for him. Unfortunately, Anchor Face was faster, slamming his head into Kahleed's. Kahleed learned firsthand how he got that moniker, even though Anvil Face would have been a more accurate name given the shape of his head. Kahleed's head was spinning as he laid on the asphalt face first. 

Kahleed's vision was blurred and a white limousine came screeching around the corner. He had no more fight left in him, but it didn't help that Anchor Face stepped on him and struck a pose worthy of Supervillain Quarterly Magazine. The limousine stopped next to him and three men came rushing out in tactical gear, lifting him into the vehicle. 

"Best of luck, Kahleed! You're going to need it!" Anchor Face said, waving to him before the doors closed and the vehicle sped away. 

Inside the spacious, yet smokey cab, were three long white seats. Two along the sides and one at the end. The men threw him on the right side and sat down on the one across from him, with their rifles at the ready. Sitting at the end was a large man in a white and gold suit smoking a cigar.

"Please...I beg your mercy," Kahleed said weakly.

"So, you're the spineless man who lied with my daughter?" Pharaoh said.

"I—didn't know."

"If you did, you wouldn't have?"

Kahleed closed his eyes. This conversation was getting more tiring by the second. His energy was leaving him fast. A sharp pain went through his ribs, jolting him back to the conversation. 

"My men will keep beating you if you can't stay awake Kahleed."

Kahleed nodded. "Alright. What is my punishment? Just get it over with."

"To marry my daughter," Pharaoh said, puffing on his cigar.

Kahleed blinked a few times and tried to sit up in his seat. "You're not going to torture me?"

"You can thank Talib for that. If I had it my way, I would cut off everything attached to your torso. One by one until you were nothing more than the black knight in that Month Python film."

Kahleed righted himself in his seat and wore a weak smile. "So, when is the wedding?"

"One week. And now that you are joining the family. That also means the family business."

"Are you giving me a job offer?"

"Not an offer. You work for me now. Your connections with Hero's Inc. will be useful."

"I can't betray my fellow heroes."

"I'm not asking you to kill them. I need a spy. Someone to help me find safe routes to run my product. If it makes you feel better, you would be like my personal fuzzbuster. And last I checked, fuzzbusters aren't illegal."

Kahleed pondered his options. He knew what awaited him if he were to refuse. And what he was offering was generous. Talib was a special woman and the fact that she cared about him enough to spare his life confirmed his suspicions about their relationship. It was some light spying. No one would get hurt.

"I'll give you routes of safe passage, but I will not give away the heroes' exact locations."

"That is all I ask. Besides, the last thing I want is my son-in-law in the prison system." Pharaoh smirked.

The vehicle sped down the street to a bridge that left the city. They went out to the countryside where one of Pharaoh's mansions was. Static took over the earpiece of a man in a yellow jumpsuit that was perched on top of a building overlooking the bridge. His phone was on speaker laying on the ground next to him. He was prone, watching through his rifle scope as the limousine drove away.

"What is the status?" a voice said on the phone.

"Kahleed is working for Pharaoh. Kahleed is marrying Pharaoh's daughter and in exchange he will spy on Hero's Inc. Do you want me to take them out?" the man asked, flicking off the safety.

"No need. Let me know when Kahleed has his first kid. That will be a more appropriate time to leverage him. For now, monitor Pharaoh's movements for the next few months. No reason we can't both benefit from that information."

***

The limousine doors opened to a courtyard lit by tiki torches. Kahleed was carried out by the three men in tactical gear. His feet dragged, creating shallow rows in the gravel below. Rushing to him was a plumpish woman wearing a seafoam green dress with white trim. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun and wore a worried expression on her face.

"Kahleed! What happened?" Talib asked Kahleed, putting her hands on his damaged face. At the same time, Pharaoh disembarked from the limousine, drawing her ire. "What did you do to him!"

"This wasn't me sweetheart. I can promise you that," Pharaoh responded.

"Sure, it wasn't you. Just one of your lackeys!" Talib barked at him.

"Anchor Face is not one of my men. I have no control over what he does."

"Typical excuse father. Always blaming everything on Jaster."

"You don't know what you're talking about. As always."

Kahleed tried to speak, but only let out a hoarse cough. Talib ignored her father's insult, inspecting her poor man. His dark hair was frazzled and the glow from his blue eyes were weary. Her heart broke seeing him this way. 

"Don't worry Kahleed. I'm here. You're safe now," Talib said and looked over to one of the men holding him up. "Get him up to my room at once!"

Without hesitation, the men took him away into the large mansion that overlooked the courtyard like a judging god. Talib turned her attention back to her father, who was smothering his cigar with his heel. 

"He will not be staying in your room," Pharaoh stated as a matter of fact. 

"He will stay wherever I say he does."

"I will not have my daughter laying with someone who is not her husband."

"Too late. Or did you already forget he fucked me good? And not just once, might I add," Talib said, recalling a particularly steamy time.

Pharaoh's heel dug deeper into the gravel, crushing the discarded cigar into paste. His eyes burned with fury and knuckles cracked. At first he was satisfied with his arrangement, but hearing how his daughter casually described losing her virginity to Kahleed made him want to run up the stairs and finish what Anchor Face started. 

"I may not have beaten Kahleed to a pulp, but I sure as hell spared his life! He will not be sharing your bed until you're married. Do I make myself clear?"

Talib stood her ground. "What does it matter if we are getting married anyhow?"

"It matters to me. Not in my house."

"Fine. But he is staying in my bed. He is in no condition to get frisky anyways," Talib said, turning her heel in the gravel to walk away.

Pharaoh watched his daughter leave his presence. His fury had subsided, even with her last little comment. Searching his pockets, he retrieved another cigar and lit it. The smoke swirled in the air, seemingly dancing with the clouds above. 

"This is the thanks I get," he said to himself. "Maybe I'll be more popular with the grandkids."

***

Talib knocked on the door before she entered her room. "Kahleed, it's me."

Kahleed was tucked into her bed and the moon was watching over him through the window. He blinked open his eyes and flashed her a weak smile. His face stung when his cheeks rose, but it was worth it to see her smile back.

"Talib," Kahleed said.

She glided over to him, sitting down on her plain red sheets. "Kahleed, how are you feeling?"

"Better now that you are here," he said, pulling his arm out of the comfort of the sheets to touch her smooth face.

"What happened?"

"Anchor Face caught me by surprise."

Talib frowned. "No one catches you by surprise."

"You did. That night. At the party," he said, caressing her thighs.

"Your flattery isn't getting you out of this. You need to be honest with me."

"Okay fine. I thought you were married."

"Not about that. About what happened...wait. You thought I was married?"

"I thought so. All that sneaking around. Not wanting to get caught. I figured a husband was in the picture."

"And you still did it anyway?"

"I love who I love. I won't apologize for that."

Talib beamed with pride. A man who knew what he wanted and wasn't ashamed of her. He was all her's. She kissed him on the forehead and her fingers danced along his covered legs.

"Are you going to tell me what happened to you? Or do I have to extract that information another way?" Talib said with a twinkle in her eyes.

"I wish, but I'm too sore for that. I was following Anchor Face to his hideout, but he knew I was following him somehow. Apparently, I was not careful enough."

"Do you think someone tipped him off?" Talib asked, hinting at the obvious villain smoking away outside.

"No, it wasn't him. He has more to gain by me living."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me to spy on Hero's Inc."

"You can't! They will send you to prison if you get caught."

"I have no choice. Your dad made it clear I owed him."

Talib shook her head and tears ran down her cheeks. Kahleed wiped the tears from her warm face. "It's not all bad. At least I get to marry you."

"Don't spy for him. Please." Talib begged.

"It will be fine."

"I have seen what he does to his men. He will do the same to you. Leave them when they need him the most. And I don't want to be a single mother."

Kahleed sprung to life upon her revelation, sitting up despite the pain. "You're pregnant?"

She sniffled. "I wanted to tell you sooner, but—"

Kahleed kissed her on the lips, fighting the pain that shot through his whole body. He always wanted to be a father and her news brought him joy he thought he would never experience. Her sweet lips made him forget about the pain and he took in the moment. A fiance who loved him and a child on the way. Despite the savage beating he sustained earlier, this was the best day he had in a long time. He released her from his wet grip, smiling ear to ear.

"You will be an amazing mother. I vow right now to not let you go through it alone," Kahleed said, with newfound energy.

"Oh Kahleed. Oh Kahleed!" she said looking toward the tent that was pitched in her bed.

"What?" he said, realizing he was not in control of his own arousal.

"I didn't think you…"

"No no no. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited...but not like that," he said, lifting the covers to make sure it was actually him. 

"I'll get the doctor," she said, going to the door.

Kahleed's vision blurred again and it became difficult to keep his head still. The next thing he knew, the pillow welcomed his return and his eyes started to close. His last words before he went unconscious, "Don't tell your da…"

***

When A Villain Returns

She had been waiting for this moment. Craving the day she was ready to return. It had been 15 years to the day she vowed to return to the city. To have her revenge on her arch nemesis, Hector. To the people, he was Net Man, a hero who would stop at nothing to catch evil from hurting his city. To her, he was more than that. He was the reason for her existence.

She drove through the city she did not recognize anymore. The city had moved on without her and so had the people. Her night black car with signature chrome spikes running along the top of the entire car did not instill the fear it once did. Instead of people fleeing at the sight of her sinister vehicle, people largely ignored it. Another car in the crowd. She worried for a moment. If the people forgot, did he as well?

She got to the address, 13795 Starview Street. Not sure why it was called that, since it was a dumpy apartment complex surrounded by enormous skyscrapers. There was no way to see the stars or the sky for that matter with the congestion of buildings and cranes overhead. She parked alongside the only empty spot on the curb, in front of a fire hydrant. She chuckled to herself, enjoying the simple pleasures of such low level villainy she would do as a teen.

The moment she opened the door, the smell of the sewer wafted into her vehicle. It brought her memories back to the time she ran from Hector in the sewer system. He was wearing his skintight bodysuit laced in white nets and carried a heavy net cannon that made his arms bulge. Her legs got weak just thinking about him.

"Hey lady, you can't park there!" a man called out to her on the sidewalk.

"Do you not not know who I am?" she responded by getting out of her car to face the man on the sidewalk.

The man looked her up and down. Her dark trench coat hid the black dress she wore underneath, leaving her bare legs and high heels exposed to the sidewalk.

"A hooker?" the man laughed, pleased with his insult. 

"Does Spike V mean anything to you?" she said, with a devilish grin. 

The man stared back with a blank expression. "Sounds like a porn name. And not a good one."

She clenched her jaw in frustration and lifted her hand. Two metal spikes rocketed out of the sleeve of her coat and stuck halfway into the man's shoulder. He yelled in pain and fell to the floor. She closed her fists and the spikes started to turn inside his shoulder, causing him to scream in pain.

"You're lucky I'm here for someone else. Otherwise I would make an example out of you," she said walking into the building. 

The building had no locks to the doors, so she was free to take the stairs up to the seventh floor. Apartment number 768. It smelt like depravity and alcohol while she walked down the hall. Stains of all kinds littered the walls and floor. She was starting to get second thoughts about if this really was the place. Jaster was never one to give her bad information, but this didn't seem like the place Hector would ever live. What had happened?

She got to his door and turned the handle. Unlocked. The chain was not even put up. For a hero, he sure was confident no one was going to hurt him. She made her way inside and the apartment was a disaster. Pizza boxes were littered with dirty clothes on the floor. No pictures on the walls and dust covered the bar countertop. Around the corner she heard voices from a TV show she recognized. She tried to walk around the sea of garbage, but it was no use. Her heel plunged into a pair of shorts that crunched under her feet.

"Who's there?" a grumpy voice yelled from around the corner. 

She rounded the corner and the man she once knew as Hector was unrecognizable. His once tone physique was instead a round mass of fat where a half eaten burger sat. His face was round and brown beard was full of crumbs. The chair he sat in bowed from his weight.

"Hector? Is that you?" she asked. 

Hector turned and his eyebrows lifted. "Vanessa?"

"What...what happened to you?" she said, gesturing to his mass. 

"I got fat," Hector said, slapping his belly and took a swig from his beer. "I see you didn't change after all these years."

"Thank you," Vanessa said, searching for something more to say. She knew it had been a long time, but she figured if he was still alive, he was doing something right. 

"What do I owe the pleasure?" Hector asked.

"It's been fifteen years since...well...you know."

"I didn't think you would actually come back. Or that either of us would have lasted this long," Hector wheezed.

"But I did…"

"Well I'm not going to fight you. If you want to destroy the city or whatever you were planning on doing, I'm not going to stop you."

Vanessa slumped her head. That was the whole point of being a supervillain to her. Having her arch nemesis fight her. To ground her. To be with her. 

"What? Are you disappointed? You have your chance and I'm not going to stop you. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I never wanted that," Vanessa said softly looking down at the ground. 

"A supervillain who never wanted to accomplish her goals? Why even do it in the first place?"

"Because of you."

Hector sat up on his chair, knocking the burger onto the ground. "Because of me?"

"You were the only reason I became a supervillain. You were always busy with your work, capturing bad guys. So I figured, what better way to get your attention than to become the one you chased."

"Let me get this straight. You became a supervillain because you wanted to be with me?"

"Pursued by you. But yes."

"Then what about these last fifteen years?"

"I thought you would follow me. Being your biggest nemesis and all," she shrugged.

"I was here to protect the city. When you left, I figured I won."

"But you knew I would return, why let yourself go?"

"I didn't at first, but these villains got better and better. I was only getting slower and slower. Once I fought Jaster though, I figured it was time to hang it up."

"Jaster?"

"Yeah. He made me realize I was not that special after all."

"What did he do to you?" Vanessa said, with a sudden hint of anger creeping into her tone.

Hector shook his head. "He showed me that having a net gun did not make me special. Just another guy in spandex, pretending to save the city."

"If you are not a hero, then I am no supervillain."

"I appreciate the compliment, but I guess we were both pretending to be something we weren't then."

Vanessa sat on the armchair next to him. "Then why don't we both be something we are?"

Hector gazed into her eyes, seeing her not as the enemy he fought all those years ago, but a woman who genuinely cared about him. Even after all these years and his misplaced idea of how she felt about him, he could tell she meant more than she said. He parted her hair, which caused her to blush.

"Would you like to watch a movie with me? I rented Franklin's Revenge."

"What's it about?" Vanessa asked, batting her eyes.

"About a chef that gets revenge on his fellow cook staff after they set him up for poisoning a Dutchess or something."

"Sounds like something I could get into," Vanessa said, with a smile. 

"Alright. I will get it set up. Can you hand me my pills on the counter?"

Vanessa walked over and grabbed a bottle of pills off the dusty counter. She turned around to see him smiling at her. He may have added an absurd amount of pounds, but he was still the same man she had fallen for all those years ago. And in an instant he was taken away from her. 

Bricks from the wall shot out at him like a claymore blast followed by a giant metal ball. Before anyone could respond, he was smashed into oblivion along with half of his apartment. The wrecking ball sat where Hector once was, mocking her. She held the pills in her hand, unable to process what had transpired. There were no screams nor cries for help. Just a single tear from her eye that was sure to be the first of many. 

From above it was a different story. Inside the crane seat, a man was typing away furiously as the police sirens were echoing in the distance.

It is done. 

The words displayed on the phone with the word, Sent below it. The man opened the door and chucked his phone down to the street below. It shattered into pieces, destroying not only the evidence of foul play, but Vanessa's hope that Hector would ever get to be with her.

***

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."

***

No One is Bulletproof

"What do you mean you don't want to be a superhero?" Bill said.

"I mean I don't want to be a superhero. What is so hard to understand?" Lilly said, putting on her duty belt.

"You're bulletproof. You could do so much more with those talents than patrolling this beat. Not to mention a pay increase."

"I worked my whole life to become a cop. I don't see how having a superpower changes anything."

"But it does...babe...listen," he said, setting her down on the old bed. "Everyday you go to work and file reports about stuff that has already happened. Wouldn't it be nice to be proactive for a change?"

"We are proactive. Those superheroes make our job more difficult. They take down small time players that we spent months gaining trust, so we can't go after bigger fish. How I see it, if they cared about the city, they would at least coordinate with us."

"You could be that person. Think about it. A liaison to Precinct 12."

"We already have one of those, Captain Marsh."

"Captain Marsh is worthless. There is a reason he doesn't leave his office. I've seen him at the department parties you bring me to," Bill said, pretending to chug a beer.

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"I won't be around as much. And let's be honest, I won't be able to patrol this beat if I become a superhero. Not like I do now."

"But I can't hog you all to myself. Not when you have such extraordinary gifts. You always said you wanted to help people. To make a difference."

"And I am in my current job. I don't need to be more than that."

Bill brushed her brown hair aside, looking deep into her dark brown eyes. "But you already are more than that. I always could see that."

Lilly smiled at Bill like when she did at their wedding. Sadly their wedding reception was rundown much like their bedroom was now. Clothes were scattered everywhere, stains on the carpet, and a constant locker room smell that never quite went away. Even their bedroom mirror had a crack in it and the pipes above their ceiling rattled when the neighbors upstairs ran any water. All this made made her fond memories grow stronger. She wanted to say yes. To become a hero and do more than her normal patrol down the same crime ridden beat. But the risk was too great.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sat up from the bed. "I will see you when I get back."

"And I will have spaghetti waiting," Bill said, pushing off the bed. Something crunched under his left hand. "Hey, honey. What is this?" 

Lilly's eyes got big, seeing Bill hold a folded white note in his hand. She snatched the note from his loose grip before he could contemplate opening it.

"That is classified—for a case," Lilly said, trying to think of something realistic.

"What did we say about bringing your work home with you?"

"Not to. It must have fell out of my pocket. I better go before I'm late."

Bill waved goodbye, unsure why she was so weird about the note. His concern went away quick after Scruffles dashed past Lilly and jumped on Bill. 

"Hello there Scruffles. Not going to say goodbye to mommy," Bill said, rubbing his nose against her whiskers.

Lilly was glad Bill was preoccupied with their cat and opened the note while she opened the door outside.

'You have superpowers. Good for you. Think about joining Hero's Inc. and consider your husband dead. Destroy after reading or we will test how bulletproof you are.'

Lilly's head was still firmly in the note walking down the sidewalk, unaware of a man wearing drab clothes with holes in everything coming toward her. He bumped into her and ripped the note from her hand, crushing it in his fist.

"Give that back!" Lilly ordered, loud and clear.

"When Jaster says destroy something, you do it, lady," the man said, starting the paper on fire with his yellow Bic lighter. 

The man clutched the paper in his hand the entire time while it burned up to his fist before he let go, letting what was left drift in the wind. Lilly stared at this man while the paper flew away. Her hand was on her gun, but she was frozen in fear. Not of the man who had little regard for authority, but of Jaster. He knew where she lived. How long before he came asking for her to do something for him?

***

Mr. Chen’s Decision

“Alright Mr. Chen, just sign here,” Franz said, pushing the form across his desk.

Mr. Chen sat up in his seat and leaned over to read it. He picked up the pen and was about to sign his name when he stopped.

“No one will know about this? I can’t have this getting out,” Mr. Chen said.

“Don’t worry Mr. Chen. Everyone at Hero’s Inc. has signed strict NDA agreements. That includes not disclosing personal identification information for all staff members. We all understand the risk you are taking by joining us today. Some of our members are just like you. Reformed villains who want to use their knowledge and skills for good in our wonderful city.”

Mr. Chen signed his name and handed the paper back to Franz. Franz moved it aside and shook his hand.

“Welcome aboard Mr. Chen. Say, how would you like to start right now?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

Franz walked around his desk and picked up a roll of paper laying against his desk. He rolled it out on the desk so Mr. Chen could see. It was a map of the city with a few red dots on it.

“I have been monitoring suspicious transport activity at these locations. I was hoping you would have more insight on what could be going on.”

Mr. Chen pointed to one of the dots near a harbor. “These are all warehouses. Common for villains to use these for transporting chemicals, electronics, literally anything that they need to accomplish their goals. From the ones you identified, they are part of a network.”

“How can you tell?”

“Locations. Sure, they are in different districts, but they all are major hubs. If your intel is correct, you are dealing with a big player. And we probably only scratched the surface.”

“What would you recommend?”

“Track the employees. Specifically ones who leave late at night. Around midnight. They will be most likely involved with whatever scheme is going on. And check around other warehouses in-between these spots. I’m sure whoever is behind this is looking to expand to smaller warehouses to spread their shipments around.”

“Your insight is greatly appreciated, Mr. Chen. How would you like to run point on this? We really need someone with your kind of experience on this. Most of our heroes tend to get too...impatient.”

“I would be honored to actually do something good for a change. Do we have any idea who might be involved?”

“I don’t have any hard evidence, but I think Jaster has something to do with these shipments.”

Mr. Chen’s face turned white and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t take this assignment. Put me on anything else.”

“But you are the only—”

“Only one who actually worked for Jaster. That is exactly why I can’t do this. I can’t betray him,” Mr. Chen interrupted.

“I understand you—”

“No! You don’t understand. I get monthly retirement checks from his company. He even attended my child’s birthday party last year. He considers me family.”

“That makes you the perfect person for this. You know how he thinks. What his next move will be.”

“I can’t do it. He would consider this an attack against not only him, but his employees. His family. He would kill my family for a betrayal like this.”

“He will never know. All you would be doing is helping me strategize.”

“I can’t take that risk. I’ll take any other task, just nothing to do with Jaster. I’m sure there are other villains I can help take down.”

Franz rolled up the map and leaned it against his desk again. He walked to the door and opened it.

“You can leave now, Mr. Chen. Please go down to the front desk and get your badge. You will be given your assignment tomorrow.”

Mr. Chen grabbed his cane and leaned against it to stand up. His cane tapped on the ground as he made his way to the door.

“Before you go, I just want you to think about this. To be a hero, it takes more than putting on a cape or having superpowers. It is about doing the right thing, even when it is scary,” Franz said.

“You know Jaster had a saying too. It was: ‘Screwing up is forgivable. Screwing me is not. If you screw me, you won’t have to wonder what Hell on Earth is like. I will show you.’ I have seen what happens when someone screws him. Hell doesn’t begin to describe it.”

***

Forbidden Friendship

The wind gusted, drying Lanney’s wet hair. Her soaked black trenchcoat with orange trim kept her light frame grounded, sinking her boots into the gravel at her feet. She looked out from the top of the building at the sunset over the city. A hawk swooped above her head and Sakari dropped in behind her, rolling onto the gravel. She wore a brown bomber jacket and was clutching a white towel in her red padded gloves.

“I found you a towel,” Sakari said.

“Thanks, Red Feather,” Lanney said, unmoved from her spot.

Sakari draped the towel over her shoulders. “You can call me Sakari, you know.”

“Sorry. I’m just so used to calling you by your hero name in public.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m sorry about throwing you in the river.”

Lanney did not say anything, continuing to look out at the vast city below them.

“The city sure looks beautiful from here. Do you come up here often?” Sakari asked, trying to fill the silence.

“Yes. It gives me hope.”

“Hope?”

“That one day I don’t have to do this anymore. Be a supervillain. Be Dark Shadow.”

“You could always join Hero’s Inc. I know I would be thrilled to have you on our team.”

Lanney gave her a grim smile. “I appreciate the thought, but I have already tried. They said no.”

“No? Why?”

“They said I am too marketable as a supervillian. Our rivalry is too iconic. Must make them a lot of money to have us two fight all the time.”

“This can’t be right. They wouldn’t do that.”

“That isn’t even the worst part. They said if I don’t keep coming up with new diabolical ideas they will send Jaster after me.”

“Jaster? But he is retired.”

Tears started welling in Lanney’s eyes. “I almost killed someone today.”

“But you didn’t. I was there to stop you.”

“But what if one day you aren’t. What if one day…”

Sakari hugged her while Lanney cried in her chest. Lanney mumbled something incoherent.

“It’s going to be okay. I will always be here for you,” Sakari said.

Lanney slowly moved her head away and sniffled a few more times before speaking.

“You mean it?” Lanney said, wiping her eyes.

“Not only do I mean it. But how about from now on we coordinate your attacks. Make it more of a show. That way no one will get hurt.”

“What if Hero’s Inc. finds out?”

“It will be our little secret.”

Lanney gave Sakari another hug. Glad that someone was actually looking out for her. Unfortunately, so was someone else. On top of another building, a man in a yellow jumpsuit wearing headphones was pointing a listening device at them, recording their conversation. The man grinned and removed his headphones.

“Jaster’s gonna want to hear this.”

***