SUPERMAX Prison

Tim and Kennedy walked down the wide hall. Prisoners banged on the clear windows to their cells and offered obscenities while the guards passed by.

“I don’t get it. Why would we let these villains escape if they try? Isn’t it our job to contain them?” Tim asked.

“Our job is to monitor them and escort them to and from their cell. Containing them is the prison’s job.”

“That’s not what our training manual says.”

“It also doesn’t tell you the mortality rate of prison guards who try to contain one of them.”

“Don’t we have the advantage?” Tim said, motioning to his stun baton on his belt.

“And they have superpowers. A little baton doesn’t mean much to them.”

“They don’t all have superpowers.”

“I don’t take that chance. And neither should you. I’m just trying to—” Kennedy said, interrupted by one of the cell doors ahead of them opening.

Stumbling out of the cell was a bald, malnourished man. His orange jumpsuit was loose on him, arm sleeves stretching past his fingers. He had an orange glow in his eye and cackled manically at his successful escape from his cell.

“Stop!” Tim yelled.

The prisoner faced him and dashed back inside his cell. Tim and Kennedy ran over and saw the prisoner sitting on his bed, pretending like nothing happened. Tim entered the cell and went up to the prisoner to search him, while Kennedy stayed at the entrance.

“Turn around,” Tim ordered.

“You’re gonna have to make me,” the prisoner said.

Tim put his hands on him at the precise moment the prisoner grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around Tim’s head. The prisoner tapped him on the top of his covered head with his palm and pushed away from the bed. Tim wrestled with the blanket while he heard Kennedy struggling with the prisoner. Tim got the blanket off of his face and saw Kennedy tossed in the corner of the cell, sprawled on the floor, blood pouring from his mouth. The prisoner was outside the cell, next to the door lock mechanism. Tim ran to the entrance and dove out. The door closed right behind him. Tim scrambled to his feet and tackled the prisoner who did not move from the controls. He banged the prisoner into the cell and tossed him to the floor. Tim drew his stun baton and started to go to work. Beating him all over below the neck. Each blow stronger than the last. The prisoner’s body was like a dead horse after the fourth strike, taking the blow with no reaction. The only sound was the electrical shock it made that was louder than the contact itself. Tim’s attacks slowed until he realized the prisoner wasn’t moving.

Tim went over to the controls and opened the cell. Inside the cell wasn’t Kennedy, but the prisoner, alive and well. The prisoner was holding the top of his head and grinned ear to ear. Tim looked over his shoulder and saw Kennedy on the ground in the hallway.

“What did you do?”

“What did I do?” the prisoner said, holding his hand to his chest. “What did you do?”

“I...you…”

“I was in here. You’re the one that beat your partner to death. Shame he had a weak ticker.”

Tim stared forward at the wall, immobilized by the realization. He killed his partner. Kennedy had a family. How did he make such a mistake? They don’t look remotely the same, yet there the prisoner sat where he thought Kennedy was supposed to be.

The prisoner got up and patted Tim on the back,.“Don’t worry kid. This will only haunt you for the rest of your life. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen this. Won’t be the last either.”

The prisoner walked away, leaving Tim to stare at the wall in front of him. This place was his new job. Now it was going to be his new home. Tim couldn’t take that thought. More guards arrived at the scene, but it was too late. The prisoner was gone and Tim was hanging by a bed sheet from the ceiling pipe. He was just another number in the prison guard death toll. Number 2368. Cause of death: Suicide assisted by villain inflicted psychosis. It was a tragedy that could have been prevented. All he had to do was not be a hero.

***

REformed Supervillain

The windows shattered into the house, cutting through the air like a claymore blast. The soft tan sofa was mauled by the hot glass. Behind the sofa, Susan laid on top of Lilly while the glass sunk into Susan’s hip. Lilly’s screams were dwarfed by the loud train whistle the wind made inside their home.

“Everything’s going to be okay. Just close your eyes,” Susan said, trying to cover Lilly’s head. 

“Susan! Lilly!” Henry yelled, while he entered the living room. 

“Dad!” Lilly said.

Henry ran over to them before being lifted off his feet and thrown into the wall. He was unable to move, embedded into the wall. A man wearing a dark skin tight suit and dark blue cape floated into the room.

"Henry Sefield, I'm here to take you in," Dark Tornado said.

"I'm no longer a supervillain. I'm reformed now."

"I won't fall for that."

"I had it cleared with the Mayor. Give him a call."

"Mayor Cheerheart? I severely doubt that."

Dark Tornado floated up to Henry so he could look into his eyes. He could tell Henry was telling the truth. Henry did not fight back like he would only a few years ago. Dark Tornado squeezed his fist tight, then relaxed it and placed his hand on Henry's head. 

"Okay. I believe you," Dark Tornado said and blew into his eye. Henry's eye flattened and squirted juices out of the socket. 

"Aggghhhh!" Henry screamed and tried to cover his eye. 

"But no one will believe you didn't deserve what comes next."

Dark Tornado inhaled, his chest growing twice it's size. He was about to blow again when Susan jumped on Dark Tornado back and dug a shard of glass into his neck.

"Take that you bastard!" Susan yelled.

His neck sprayed red and drenched Susan's face. His chest deflated like a balloon, letting out a sputtering sound. Dark Tornado reached around, grabbing her by the back of her shirt, and slammed her head first into the wall next to Henry. Her body hung limp outside the wall.

"Susan!" Henry yelled.

Dark Tornado pulled the bloody shard of glass and chucked it at the sofa, cutting through it and piercing Lilly in the chest. She let out a high pitched shriek. Dark Tornado's eyes got big and looked behind the sofa. Blood ran pooled under her body and she gurgled on her own blood. 

"Shit." Dark Tornado scooped Lilly in his arms and flew off with her while Henry rolled out of the wall. 

"Susan!" Henry said and pulled her head out of the wall, cradling her in his arms.

Her mouth full of blood, she coughed and winced in pain.

"Henry…" she said, barely gasping out his name.

He brushed her hair back. "Yes. I'm here,"

"Make them pay...all of them."

"I will. Just stay with me." 

"Make them feel it…" she said, before her head tilted back and eyes lost their light. 

Henry cried blood and held her tighter. Her lifeless body sat in his arms like a doll. All those years of rehab were out the window. He was going to honor his wife's last request. To make them pay.

***

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."

***

Birth of a Villain

"Watch out!" Perry said, tackling Gaseous to the ground. A red sedan skipped across the bridge, brushing past Perry's feet and into the water below. 

Two bulky feet landed next to them. Perry looked up to see a tan bodybuilder holding a section of pavement above her head. Rock sediment bounced off her bald head while she gritted her teeth.

"Seismic, don't do this!" Perry pleaded.

"You left me no choice," she said in a low voice.

"You always have a choice. You don't have to be a villain."

"And join you? After what you did to me?"

Gaseous coughed, still pinned to the ground by Perry. He tried to sneak out, but Perry was laying on his lime green cape.

"What did Perry do?" Gaseous asked.

"He ditched me in the middle of our meal!" Seismic said.

"I had a family emergency," Perry said to Gaseous.

"The hell you did! You went to the bathroom and never came back. And I thought our date was going well."

"Your profile said athletic, I didn't expect—"

"Expect what?" she said, her grip tightened on the slab of pavement above her head.

"I didn't expect you to be bigger than the gym rats that ate creatine and dumbbells for every meal."

She slammed the slab of pavement onto them. Perry and Gaseous groaned in pain while she jumped up and down on top of it. Gaseous felt a rumble in his stomach.

"Perry. I can't hold it much longer. You need to lift this off of us."

"I can't. She's...too...heavy."

Gaseous winced and tightened his butthole. He strained every muscle he could to hold it in, but it was no use. He let out a fart that sounded more like an air horn and a green cloud of gas consumed them. Seismic jumped off the pavement slab and ran away coughing.

"Perry. Hold your breath," Gaseous said, trying to squirm his way out.

Perry coughed uncontrollably, unable to stop the gas from entering his lungs. Gaseous wiggled himself out from underneath the pavement slab and reached back in to grab Perry, but it was too late. Perry started convulsing, banging his head on the pavement above and below him. The rest of his body shook a little, unable to move anywhere. Gaseous grabbed Perry's arm once his body went limp and pulled him out. With a few tugs he was free...at least half his body was.

Gaseous fell down, holding the torn upper torso of Perry in his lap. How was he going to explain this to his boss? He was already on thin ice after the fish market disaster. Perry was going to be the final nail on the coffin of his career. Perry wasn't just some B-list bargain hero. He was a trailblazer. He didn't even have a gimmick name. It was just Perry. Everyone adored this guy on the West Side.

Gaseous rolled Perry's body off of him and tried to rub off the blood over his crotch, ruining his white latex suit. The gas still lingered over the slab as police sirens whined in the distance. With his career over, a thought rolled into his mind. His gas was deadly. He spent so long harnessing his power to knock out people, he forgot there was another setting. One that could make him an A-lister in the villain circles.

He smiled as the police squads approached him. His butthole tightened again, stomach rumbling. This was his moment. To show the city there was a new villain in town. And his name was Gaseous.

***

Jaster’s Return

"Come in," Jaster said, his eyes still stuck in his Super Villain Quarterly magazine.

A small, hunched over man came limping in with a crutch under his arm. His hair was dirty, face bruised and puffy. His clothes were drenched and smelt like urine that had been sitting in the toilet all day in the middle of summer.

Jaster scrunched his face upon smelling the foul odor that walked through his door. He looked up from his magazine and then slammed it on his desk.

"What happened to you?"

"The heroes, sir. They attacked me."

"At the warehouse?"

"No sir. The bar."

"Why were you at the bar?"

"I got done loading the last of the crocodiles for the moat and thought I would celebrate with a beer. I went to the one on Elm Street a few blocks away. Anyways, I was enjoying my beer when two caped heroes grabbed me from the bar. They took me out in the alley and just started beating me."

"Why?"

"They kept asking me about Operation Sceptre. I had no idea what they were talking about, but they...didn't believe me. They just kept hitting me...and hitting me," he said, breaking down into tears.

"Did you get a good look at either hero? Any distinguishing marks?"

The minion wiped his tears on his sleeve. "They were both wearing green capes and masks. One had a…" He cringing, unable to finish his sentence.

Jaster leaned in closer. "Had a what? Continue."

"Had...a black heart tattooed on his penis."

"How do you know that?"

"Cause I saw it just before he peed on me."

Jaster slammed his hand on top of his desk phone and smashed in the buttons. The dial tone was audible enough for both of them to hear. 

"I will handle this," Jaster said to the minion before putting the phone to his ear.

"Hello, this is Hero's Inc. We put the H in…" the secretary said.

"Save it! I need to talk to Franz right now! This is Jaster."

"Oh. One moment while I transfer you."

The sound of angels strumming on harps came over the phone speaker. The phone creaked as Jaster's grip tightened. The song changed quickly back to a dial tone, almost like it could hear the phone's cries for help under his grip.

"Jaster?" Franz's voice quivered.

"Franz. I heard two of your trainees ran into my minion yesterday. Give me their names."

"Jaster, you know I can't do that."

"You give me those names or I will find them out myself! Your call."

"Don't! Please! I'm sure whatever happened was well within our training…"

"Your training includes torturing my people and pissing on their broken bodies!"

"Fighting bad guys is our job. I'm sure your minion is lying to you."

"Then why does he reek of piss in my office? And his face looks more like a burnt marshmallow. No, your boys broke the treaty. Consider me back. You've done this to yourself, Franz."

"No! Wait!"

Jaster slammed the phone back on the receiver. His eyes had a spark in them and his heart beat so hard it could jump out of his chest at any moment. Jaster got up and walked toward his minion with a sinister smile. His minion stumbled back into the wall.

"Don't worry. I'll make them pay."

***

Jaster stood across the street looking up at Hero's Inc. It towered over the city, the glass glimmering in the sun. Cars came to a stop at the red light below, silent all but for the tires crushing the little pieces of loose asphalt. Jaster adjusted his striped red tie before walking across the street. Each step closer to the building his anger bubbled more inside. The glass doors opened for him and the secretary was waiting behind a brown desk in an otherwise large empty lobby. Her radiant smile and flowing blonde hair did not distract him from his goal.

"Can I help you sir?"

He continued walking toward the elevator in the back, ignoring her question.

"Excuse me, sir, you can't go back there without an appointment," she said, starting to make her way around the desk.

Jaster pointed at her without looking at her. "You stay put or I will turn that smile upside down! Franz is expecting me."

She went back to her desk and picked up the phone. She dialed for Franz and he answered right away.

"Someone is coming up to your office."

"I was just about to leave. Who is it?"

"I don't know, but he looks mad. Is everything okay?"

The line went silent, except for the faint sound of footsteps running away.

"Hello?" she asked one more time. Again no response. 

Jaster was already in the elevator. Quiet music played from the speaker above. The number above the door frame kept going up.  45. 46. 47. The doors opened to Franz standing in front of him, breathing heavy. 

"Jaster...what a pleasant...surprise," Franz said trying to still catch his breath.

"Where's that black hearted dick?"

Franz put his hands out. "Woah there Jaster. Say, let me get something for you? We sit down and talk this out. You like tea?"

Jaster punched him in the gut. Franz doubled over, throwing up his tuna salad on the clean floor.

"You can't stop this. Where is he? Or do you want something coming out both ends?"

"Two doors down in the conference…" Franz said before he heaved again. "In the conference room. Please don't kill him. He is just a trainee."

"See. That wasn't so hard."

Jaster walked past the mess he made in the hall and to the conference room. He kicked in the wood door to find two heroes sitting in red office seats with their feet up on the conference table and a large glass window behind them. The only major difference between the two was one had short blonde hair, while the other had long black hair. Jaster felt the blood pumping through his veins, bulging under his sleek jacket. 

"Which one of you is Dick Heart?"

They both laughed. "What?" They both said in unison.

"Did I stutter? Which one of you pissed on my minion?"

"I think he is talking about the guy at the bar?" the blonde hero said to the other one.

"Who wants to know?" the black haired hero said.

Jaster stepped toward them. "I don't see anyone else standing in front of you."

The two got to their feet, their capes flowed behind them. The black haired hero grabbed a bow seemingly out of nowhere. He put an arrow in his bow and aimed at Jaster. The bow creaked when he pulled the bowstring back.

"Don't move."

Jaster smiled. "Your mistake."

Jaster charged the bowman. The arrow's breeze brushed Jaster's cheek, missing by mere inches. The other hero kicked at Jaster to protect his partner. Jaster spun away from the kick and got his hand on the bow. In one motion, Jaster ripped it from the hero's grip and sliced four of the hero's finger's clean off with the bowstring. The hero cried out in pain grabbing his hand like that was somehow going to reattach his fingers or ease his pain. He fell back onto the table, his screams of panic consumed all his concentration.

Jaster turned to the other hero. "So, are you Dick Heart?" He threw the bow in the corner of the room, unafraid of being unarmed.

The hero threw a punch, his red glove came at Jaster like a rocket. But it was not fast enough. Jaster deflected the punch with the outside of his wrist. With the other hand, Jaster grabbed the hero by the roof of his mouth. Jaster hooked his hand behind the hero's front teeth and ripped the front six out with ease.

Jaster looked at the teeth in his palm, all white with almost no blood. "Good news, none of these have any cavities.”

He tossed them against the window and crouched down next to the hero. Blood poured out of the hero's mouth and stained his green suit.

"Your dentist will want you on soft foods for awhile. So I brought you this.” Jaster reached into his pocket and revealed a plastic bag with a thin pinecone shaped poo in it. He dangled it in front of the hero, the smell still trapped in it's container. "You pissed on my guy, so you are going to eat shit. Literally."

The hero moaned, closed his eyes, and shook his head. 

Jaster shook the bag like he was calling a dog for treats. "Don't make me feed it to you?"

The hero whimpered and took the bag, moving the plastic aside to reveal the tip. It smelt like expired burrito that was dipped in urine. The hero cringed at the smell, but bravely slid the whole thing down his mouth.

"That's a good boy," Jaster said, patting the hero's head. Jaster stood back up and drove his heel into the hero's crouch. The hero's eyes were wide open and he groaned in pain. "If either of you do anything like that to my minions again, consider yourselves retired."

Jaster calmly walked to the door and closed it behind him. He made his way back to the elevator, with Franz still doubled over, nose almost touching his pile of vomit.

"I talked to your boys and I think they know their place now," Jaster said, walking over him.

"Oh good. Does this mean you're not coming back to the field?”

Jaster stepped into the elevator and clicked a button. The doors started to close.

"We'll see."

***