"Good morning Jessica."

"Morning boss."

I smiled at her as she came in for her shift. One of my constant conveyor belt university students, she was a good worker. There were a few times she was late to work, having been on a binge the night before. But I liked to give some some slack.

She disappeared out back for a bit, before coming back in her apron. We traded high fives, and she took over manning the till. Times would change, fights would happen, but people always needed their coffee.

I took some time to relax, idly checking on the targets I was given. People with super powers often caused mayhem, either because they wanted to or by accident. I was part of the League, a sort of shadow organisation. We put appropriate villains for those who wanted to help, but inevitably made things worse. The Guild knew of us of course, and helped give match ups.

I was one. According to the Guild official ranking, I was a C-Class villain. Mostly an annoyance, but could potentially cause problems if left unchecked. I liked it, as I loved being an idiot. I made stupid devices that had nice obvious off or self destruct buttons. Coupled with nice clear timers, it kept my team mostly out of trouble. In reality I was more of an A-Class.

I sipped my water, looking at their track. Instantly I had to roll my eyes. Of course they were coming here. I wandered near to the door, keeping an ear out to listen in on their conversation.

"Hey, love, give us your number."

Oh. Oh no they didn't. I hated those sort who hit on my employees. I peeked through the peephole, and nearly smacked my head in frustration. They were in their outfits. They must have thought it made them special. I glanced at the four of them.

Flare, wearing a mix of red and orange. He was their leader, with mild pyrokinesis. Flanking him were the twins, Gust and Wave. Air manipulation and hydrokinesis. Finally behind was the largest of the lot, Rock. Geokinesis, to finish up the Elements as they called themselves. They were properly C-Class, with low level powers.

"I don't give my number out. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

They laughed, each one egging the others on. I clenched my fist, as Flare held up his hand to touch her hair.

"Oh don't be like that. I bet you've never been with a super before. Let's just say we are super in more ways than one."

I felt pride as Jessica slapped his hand away, stepping back.

"Ew. Get out."

I pulled open the door, as his face fell. There was a rush of heat, and my counter burst into fire.

"Fine, be like that. Thought I would give an ugly girl a short at being important for once. I guess I thought wrong."

His cronies laughed, as I rushed over to Jessica. She was crumpled on the floor, shaking. As I ran I felt something infront of my leg. The air growing thick. I fell hard, getting some more laughs from them.

"Come on guys, let's go, there are people out there who actually have brains."

Wave's voice was mocking. I crawled over to Jessica, rubbing her shoulder. She peeked up at me, before reaching out to hug me. I looked st the soot on her face, and felt anger. They were meant to be heros. This was far beyond any sort of realm of good.

"It's OK."

I soothed her as she cried into my shoulder. I could smell burnt hair, and knew Flare had deliberately caught her in it. I struggled to contain my rage. They would pay.

-----

"Elements."

I spoke a single word with pure hatred. The League and Guild were in agreement. This team was no longer a good hearted liability. They were a menace. I had been given the all clear to remove them from the Hero Pool.

"Jester! Come on, let's get this over with!"

Flare called up at me, eager to fight. I smirked. They thought they could beat me.

"Tell me, what do you know about super powers?"

They frowned. Normally I came up with a stupid quip. This time I was being deadly serious.

"Only the privileged are able to get and use them."

I laughed.

"Well, that's wrong. It's merely a quirk of genetics, space-time, and random chance. But tell me, what would happen if someone was able to understand this random set of events?"

I was met with blank stares, making me roll my eyes. I had never put much thought into how stupid they were.

"Alright, since you are thicker than concrete. Let me explain. If you could understand how to replicate this set of events, you could make up powers of your own."

I held up a syringe, filled with a thick green liquid.

"Like this."

I injected myself, feeling the same rush of power hit me. I grinned at them, raising an arm. A pillar of rock split from the floor, larger than anything Rock could handle.

"Behold, the new improved Rock."

I let it fall, as Gust darted towards me. He yelled as he moved.

"Guys, we have to stop him before he does anymore!"

I grinned at him, thinning the air beneath him. He fell, looking up at me in shock.

"Oh come now. Do you really think I hadn't prepared before you got here? Let me show you just how pathetic you really are. When I'm done, you will be heroes no more."

I lunged, ready to fight. They thought themselves strong. I wanted to prove them wrong. To the public, they would be called away to Guild Headquarters, for training. Technically they would be returning, but only after I had given them the treatment that confirmed my place as an A-Class. The treatment to suppress their pitiful powers.

That's it. That is, finally, it, I decided, as I stomped my way out of the hospital. Felicity was going to be in traction for six weeks. David's gunshot wound would heal cleanly but ICU trauma was a thing. And Ricky, dammit, what they'd done to Ricky was downright criminal.

It's all right to play with me, but when you get civilians involved, that's it. Time to take the gloves off. You wanna play, kids? Then let's play.

It took a week to set up. But justice isn't fast.

Sabotaging Silver Saint's Tesla was child's play. Finding a way to program in a route that wouldn't take out innocent bystanders took a couple of hours, but she was done and dusted in less than a morning. It was remarkably easy to look at the bill for Alana's new artificial leg (the insurance company insisted on sending me the itemised bill for all their procedures. Shut up and take the goddamn premiums, you soulless vultures) and any guilt just went away.

They sentenced my people to a lifetime of scars and suffering for answering a help wanted ad. They would get all the mercy from me that they deserved.

Such a shame about Fireball's cute little suburban bungalow. It's kind of scary how easy it is to sabotage a gas heating system. This is why you always hire a reputable technician to service your boiler, kids!

Blue Tornado was a tad trickier. I wanted it to be in his civilian identity, because he'd gone after my civilian identity, but I wanted it to relate to his powers. Finally, I settled on an air pressure hose breaking just as he was using it on his car, blowing up in his face and causing concussive damage. No civilians involved.

It all went off without a hitch. Boom, boom, boom.

########

The High Circle of Superheroes looked at the evidence. A crashed car, a burned house and a exploded tyre inflation station, all three putting one person in hospital, and no-one else. One person. A superhero. And to each, a bouquet had been sent, consisting of geraniums, foxglove, yellow carnations and orange lilies. The card had included a photo of an injured person, and the words "Galatians 6:7".

"Okay, we need to revise Boobytrap's threat level." Superior, the leader of the group, said.

#######

Geraniums mean "stupidity", foxglove means "insincerity", yellow carnations mean "you have disappointed me" and orange lilies mean "hatred"; this particular arrangement is colloquially known among florists as "the fuck you bouquet".

Galatians 6:7 : "Do not be decieved; God is not mocked, for what a man sows, that he shall reap."

When I saw Jeremy sitting against the wall with a hole in his arm, I knew who it was.

Those three idiots called themselves "SWAT Ops", and I was the "class 8" villain that the league assigned to them as training. It was a nice job, pretending to be some Doofenshmirtz impersonator to help new heros get used to their powers. It was fun, paid okay, and kept my city clean of major villains.

But these three... they were too much.

Cannon, a cyborg who fired energy blasts out of his arms, tended to use pigeons for target practice, and I had made sure to report it to the league when he started ignoring bystanders in our fights. He was the leader, and made sure people knew it.

Riot, whose powers allowed him to create shields of varrying sizes and materials depending on what he could access. He started out fine, but I had my doubts once he started using parts of buildings for his powers.

And Zapper, who could fire off small bolts from his body, was only about as stronger as a human tazer, until he started siphoning power from nearby buildings to amp up his voltage and amps.

They had started being trouble, but I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. But this? Attacking a civilian worker in a bakery? MY BAKERY?! JUST CAUSE HE TOLD THEM TO LEAVE WHEN THEY WERE MAKING SOPHIE UNCOMFORTABLE?!! That was the limit.

We met up in the usual park we had our fights in, but I wasn't wearing the costume I usually did.

"What's with the get up, Breezie? You put on a little too much extra weight for the lab coat?" Cannon said, getting a laugh from his buddies.

"..." I merely kept walking towards them, my armor making light clanging noises with every step.

"Where's your newest gadget big guy? You forget it back at your ~secret lair~? We can wait for you to go get it!" Zapper said, a smirk on his face.

"Okay, what's with the wind today? You'd think a super-" That was the last thing Cannon said before a massive gust of wind slammed a tree into him.

"WHAT THE-" Zapper began, before getting slammed into a fence.

"What's going on?!" Riot shouted, barely standing his ground against the hurricane that was assaulting him.

"...My name isn't Breezie. It's Typhoon. Make sure you remember it next time you attack an innocent civilian." I told them, using my powers to guarantee that they could hear me.

"What are you talking abou- AAAAAH!!" Cannon screamed in pain as a blade of wind severed his left leg.

"CANNON!" Riot shouted, rushing to his leader, before he heard my voice right begind him.

"Watch your own back, dumbass." He heard, before he was trapped in a blender of wind.

"You sound so much like Goliath did in our last battle." I told him, a grin spreading across my face.

"I remember you now. You're the one who was slaughtering high ranking heros, like that class 3 Lancelot guy." Zapper said, fear evident in his voice.

"Congrats kiddo, you win. You wanna know what your prize is?" I said, a bright and bubbly smile on my face.

Before I ripped an eye out of his head.

"Partial blindess!"

He screamed, clutching at his now empty eye socket.

"YOU'RE A MONSTER!" Cannon shouted, before the winds all stopped at once.

"If I'm a monster, what does that make you?" I said to him, before his head was ripped from his shoulders.

"You don't target civilians unless you're a villain. And I'm allowed to kill any villain who enters MY city without permission. No one's gonna miss you."

Their screams became the soundtrack for my dreams for awhile after that. I have a new group now. Far more polite, kind, and good at doing their jobs correctly. I'm keeping an eye out though.

Can't let anyone hurt my employees.

Harold was lying on the floor, bleeding from the bullet hold on his shoulder.

“Are you the boss here?” Thuderia asked.

“Yes,” I replied, my anger starting.

“Give us the money,” Flame Lord snarled.

“Why?”

“Because,” Anne began, “we’re your Trio of Salvation. We deal with the super villain Blackout. Now give us the money.”

“No,” I said, and threw them out telekinetically. I wasn’t finished. I repaired Harold wound, and created some new blood for him. He should live, but I’ll get him to the hospital later.

The Trio got up, with great rage.

“The fuck?” Thuderia growled, covering her face.

“I am Blackout. And you crossed a damn line.”

“Hah. Blackout? You’re just a ‘comically incompatant’ super villa-“ Flame Lord tried to say, but ripping of the bottom of his jaw shut him up.

“I’ve never been all that interested in taking over the city. I’ve only continued as a hobby to prevent worse villains from showing up. Turns out they showed up today!”

I kicked Anne to the tops of the buildings, and brought my leg down on top of Thunderia.

“Before I was known as Blackout,” I continued, beating these fakes to a pulp, “I was Creator! The only Hero undefeated! With the power to make new abilitys! I brought down Snatcher! I defeated the duo villains of Time and Space! And all of it was done singlehandedly!” I finished, leaving badly broken but living bodies of these false helpers. “And now I’m bringing you to the Tartarus.”

The shock on their faces was quite something.

“Bu-but we’re heros! Why would we be brought to the jail for extremely dangerous villains?” Thunderia wimpered.

“You shot an innocent man, demanded money at gunpoint, and claim to be innocent?”

They fell silent, realizing their pleas would obly fall on deaf ears.

—-

“Hey Creator!” A cheerful voice cried out.

“Hey Snatcher. I got some new faces for you.”

“Oooh, an S ranked threat?”

“No, some C ranked heros.”

“Damn it, I was hoping for a 4th member. I want to play Mahjong!”

“Not my problem. By the way, I’m currently known as Blackout, a Grade D villain.”

“Grade D? Isn’t that reserved for Villains that can’t actually harm anyone? And private info?”

“I’ve been requested by the city of Lancurk to be their villain, so they report me as grade C. Anyway, I gotta get going, these fucks shot my employee.”

“Bye!!!”

A red light filled the tower as the claxon siren sounded off. Three people in bright colored spandex rounded the corner of a hallway, nearly stumbling over some loose debris.

"How can he be this strong?" Shouted a woman in pink. "He's just some fossil!" A large beam fell from the ceiling, blocking their path.

"I don't think we have time to find out, Autumn." Said the oldest boy of the group. Looking around, he noticed an open elevator shaft. "This way!" He proclaimed. The shaft was empty, but the three of them leapt into it anyway. They quickly began to float up through the tight space, arriving at the roof.

"Oh God," said the thinnest hero. "What do we do?" The more muscular man looked down at him, trying to mask the fear clearly presented on his face.

"It'll be okay, Issac." He said, attempting to sound brave. "We haven't lost to Tregus yet." As he said this, a large dent was made in the metal door cutting off the roof entrance. Autumn's hands began to glow with orange energy.

"Carter," she said. "If you have a plan, now would be a good t-" The sound of breaking metal filled the air. From the hole that used to be a door, stepped a completely black figure, highlighted by red pulsating light. Issac jumped Infront of Carter and Autumn, expanding his arms.

"Stay away from my friends you evi-" Isaac's sentence was cut off by the sound of cracking bone. In an instant, Isaac's head had been turned backwards by a massive shadowy hand. Breaking his neck. Autumn began to scream, and shot her energy bolts at the black and red mass. That is until a spike of dark energy pierced her throat. As her body fell to the ground, Carter had to fight against the coming vomit.

"Just one left." The dark mass said. Carter launched from the roof, attempting to escape. It was no use, however. As he took off, the dark mass sprouted what seemed to be wings and followed suit. The chase didn't last more than two minutes before a shadowy hand grabbed Carter's leg and slammed him back onto the roof. "You self absorbed, power abusing, civilian harming, sorry excuse for a C class hero!" Carter tried to fly away, but the dark mass just broke his legs before he could take off.

"What are you doing, Tregus?!" Carter shouted desperately. "Those were my friends! You killed them!" The dark mass shifted into the shape of a man in a tailored suit. He walked towards Carter, picking him up and throwing him onto Autumn's body.

"Two weeks ago, you and your tactless allies raided a coffee shop." Tregus said, aproaching Carter yet again. "You didn't know for sure if I owned it or not, but you had a hunch that it was a front for something." He grabbed Carter by his hair and started dragging him to the edge of the building. "Only one person was working that night, so you and your pals thought it would be a great idea to break her hands for information. Didn't make any difference, though. She didn't know anything, and what she did tell you was just a lie to get you to stop."

"We didn't want it to come to that! The bitch wouldn't tell us what we wan-AHHHHH!" Carter screamed as both of his hands were broken.

"Call her a bitch again, and you'll end up like Issac over there!" Tregus took a moment to compose himself. "Did you know that Cathy loved to play piano? She had a full ride scholarship to Juliard of all places. It would have been her one chance to leave this godforsaken city. Of course, that's not an option anymore because of you three." Tregus lifted Carter's body over the edge of the building by the hair, and gave him a look even more frightening than the fall. "You can tell me which police officers helped you raid the shop, and I'll kill you quickly. Or you can keep it to yourself, and I'll let gravity do the job." Tears started to run down Carter's face.

"Officers Mehs, Vasquez, and Banks!" He shouted. "They acted without the precinct's permission, and blocked the streets so nobody would walk up on us!" Carter's face turned white, as he began to bawl. "Now please, don't let me fall! Please!" Tregus smiled, with a sinister joy.

"No!" Carter screamed louder than he ever thought he could as Tregus let go of him. After five feet, however he felt a soft pad on the ground. He opened his eyes to see his hands and legs were perfectly fine. In fact, he wasn't even scratched. He was sitting on a red foam pad, in what looked like a gym. As he looked up, he noticed the three Glocks pointed at him. Tregus stood next to the officers, chuckling. "I'm not some demon, kiddo. My powers are dream based. Your friends are alive, and completely unharmed." Tregus began to walk away.

"YOU BASTARDS!" Carter shouted. "HOW COULD YOU SIDE WITH HIM? HE'S A SUPER VILLAIN!"

"Oh, I don't claim to be a saint." Tregus said before he left the room. "I am, however, far from evil. Say hello to your friends for me. They're waiting for you in the squad car." As Tregus walked down the street, he made for the coffee shop that the heroes had raided. In the dining area, sat Cathy, sipping on what looked to be a peppermint mocha. She grasped the cup with both of her palms, her fingers outstretched away from it.

"Mr. Tregus." Cathy said with a smile. "What are you doing here?" Tregus smiled at her, grabbing a candy bar from the rack, and sitting a dollar on the counter.

"Miss Cathy," He said. "Those people who hurt you won't be causing anymore trouble." He showed her a photo from his phone of the three heroes in a squad car. "How long did the doctor say it would take?" He asked, in a conserned tone.

"Two years for the bones to heal fully." She said with a grimace. "Even then, it'll be ages before I can play again." She began to sniffle. "I just don't know how I'm going to keep working." Tregus reached into his coat pocket, producing a blank envelope.

"As luck would have it," he said "I already approved you for two years of PTO." He sat the envelope on the table, and got up from his seat. "Along with a nice bonus for your trouble. I took the liberty of opening it for you" He made his way for the door. Cathy grasped the envelope as well as she could, clearly shocked at it's contents. She may not make it to Juliard as soon as she wanted, but the city's supervillain would make sure she was comfortable while she waited.

Sparks fly as I lift the partially melted steel beam off of my chest. I'd love to just lay there and catch my breath, but the building is on fire, and regrowing burned skin is worse than ribs knitting themselves back together while moving. Gingerly, I roll over onto my side and push myself up.

The smoke stings my nose and eyes as I stagger towards the door. It's painful, but hardly life-threatening. Nothing is to me, which is why I've been nicknamed "Punchy Bag" by most of the younger generation of heroes. I hear they make a game of it, competing to see who can take me out the fastest whenever I try out my latest get-rich-quick scheme.

Hitting my side job though, that's a new one. Does it even count when they beat me up before I even put my plan into action?

I'm interrupted from this line of thought when I trip over a leg. The good news is, it's still attached to its owner. The bad news is, Christian's unconscious.

The hell? Did those idiots seriously knock out my cook and leave him in a burning building?

Fortunately, I've healed up enough to hoist Christian over my shoulders and stagger out of the gaping hole the Wolf Pack left in the front of my pub. I hand him over to the paramedics, then slump to the sidewalk to watch my shop burn.

I thank all the gods I can think of (even the ones who are patrons of heroes) that the heroes didn't attack until after closing. If it had been just an hour sooner...

My hands begin to shake as I think of Lucy and Ranjit, my bartenders. They're just kids trying to pay for college. Of Benny the dishwasher, who I sent home early today to take care of his sick daughter. Even Luigi, who owns the deli next door and supplies us- supplied us with most of the toppings for our pizzas, often comes over for a drink after hours. They all could've been in danger.

"Boss!"

There's Pete, the delivery guy. I don't move as he runs over to me.

"Boss, what happened?!"

"The Wolf Pack." I watch as the last of the flames are extinguished by the firefighters. At least Luigi's Market won't have to close down like I will.

"Those washed up D-list heroes?" Pete's voice is deadly quiet, and I finally turn to look at him. There's a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Pete's the only one of my pub staff who knows about my other line of work. He was one of my henchmen back when I was a full-time villain. Unlike the rest, he wanted to get out of minion life when I faded into semi-obscurity, so I offered him a delivery position when no other place would look past his record. By the look on his face right now though, Pete looks like he's a step away from going back to that life.

"I'll handle it." I finally stand, heading into the charred remains of my pub. "They won't get away with this."

"What you gonna do?" Pete follows me in.

In the ruins of the kitchen, I stoop down to pick up the mezzaluna knife that Luigi gifted me last Christmas. One of the fine wooden handles is blackened, and the blade has scorch marks on it, but it's still sharp as a razor. I heft the crescent blade and look Pete in the eye. "What I have to."
~~~~~
Amongst heroes and villains, there is one rule that is held sacrosanct. You don't touch the life outside the mask.

Some villains break that rule, of course. But very, very few of them survive to boast about it. And usually, it's not out of mercy, but as a warning.

It's basically unheard of for a hero to break the rule. I can only think of two other times it's happened, and both times were revenge on the villain that did it first. Never a preemptive strike.

Then again, it doesn't exactly surprise me that it's the Wolf Pack that did it. They've always been wilder than other heroes. It's what made them fun at first, especially when they first started out as reckless teenagers. But that was years ago, and the excuses of inexperience and youth died pretty quickly when they racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in collateral and gained reputations for being loose cannons.

These days, most other heroes refuse to work with them, and the Wolf Pack clash with fellow vigilantes as much as they do villains. Which is why I'm not too concerned about any backlash when I kick down the door to their clubhouse by the levee.

Yeah, they're still using the same clubhouse as when they were in high school, judging by how dated the posters of bikini models and rock bands on the wall are. I can see magazine and comics strewn about the floor, and the whole place stinks of weed and booze.

As if to add insult to injury, I can see a discarded keg and empty pizza boxes I know were from my pub. Arson, assault, and now theft too. And they call me the criminal.
The five members of the Wolf Pack are playing poker and passing around a joint when I walk in. With marijuana dulling their reaction times, it's child's play to roll a glue grenade under the table, trapping everyone's legs in rapid-hardening foam.

"What's the big idea, Punchy Bag?" Alpha, the leader of the Wolf Pack, sneers at me. "Don't tell me you're mad about your shitty pizza place."

"Oh I am, but that's just the tip of the iceberg." I hop onto the table, upending a stack of cards and several red plastic cups.

"Oh God, is he actually gonna monologue?" One of the Tele-Twins rolls her eyes and whispers to the other.

I kick out at the one who didn't speak. Steel-toed boots shatter her jaw and send blood and teeth flying. Both twins start screaming in pain. Guess the rumors about them being able to feel the other's pain were true.

"I've had to listen to enough of your speeches over the years, so now you shut the fuck up and listen to mine. The only reason heroes and villains don't slaughter each other like animals is because there are rules we play by. And you broke every last one of them. Today was the final straw."

"You won't get away with this!" Speedemon, the team's speedster, yells at me. "When I get out of this gunk-"

"You won't be in any position to do anything." I finish for him, pulling out the mezzaluna knife. I jump off the table and kick it over, revealing everyone's trapped legs. Before any of the Wolf Pack can react, I've hacked clean through Speedemon's left knee. He's howling and sobbing as I methodically wipe the blood on his gaudy purple leotard.

"Rrraaggghhhh!!" Alpha roars as he manages to free one of his legs through brute strength. He reaches toward me, but stops when I level the crescent blade to Laser Lad's neck.

"Ah ah ah, I'm not done speaking yet. And I see so much as a spark from you, you'll die drowning in your own blood." I pat Laser's cheek with my free hand. "As I was saying, you imbeciles broke the one rule you shouldn't have. You brought innocents into it."

"That dirty ******? He deserved what he got, working for you-glrkk!"

I admit, I lost my patience when Laser Lad spat out a racial slur. The mezzaluna cuts cleanly through his tongue.

"Christian didn't know about my double life. And even if he did, heroes don't leave people to burn alive."

"Enjoy this while you can, Punchy Bag." Alpha seethes. "When I get my hands on you-"

"Were you not paying attention when Legless over there tried it first?" I point at Speedemon, who's turned pale from blood loss. I pull a stack of photos from my pocket and toss it onto the floor. "Here, maybe this will get the message through your dense skull."

Alpha's face turns purple as he takes in the images of the Wolf Pack's families. "You fucking has-been, how dare you..."

"You so much as fart in my general direction, and your families go bye-bye." I waggle a detonator switch. It's not connected to anything, because even now I'm still following the rule, but they don't know that.

"Here's the truth, kiddos. You made it personal. Now you're going to be the warning for anyone else who tries something so monumentally stupid."

I shove the mezzaluna back into my belt and heft the small tank of gasoline I'd brought with me. "You shouldn't have played with fire. Now I'm going to leave you to face the same fate that you left my employee to. Except I won't be around to carry you out."

I toss another glue grenade at Alpha, just to be safe, then set about dousing the entire clubhouse with flammable liquid with a cheerful whistle. The Wolf Pack, or at least those who can still speak, are begging and cursing at me now, but I ignore them, instead lighting a match. Without so much as a quip, I drop it on the gasoline-soaked floor and close the door behind me, muffling the Wolf Pack's screams.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, a fire lit within me.

"T-the...t-the...h-heros." The man barely got the words out as he tried to sit up, his legs bent in weird angles. His eye blinded by blood dripping down from a gashed eyebrow. His face swollen to an unrecognizable degree. I reached out and helped him to a chair.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. I'm assuming you mean the C-class heros that have been harassing me with their childish speeches? The man nodded painfully. A window cracked under my anger.

I'm usually a chill guy. The type that doesn't take life too seriously. I've been dubbed "The comically incompetent villain." And I had no problem with that. I was completely happy with the way things are...but this? I looked at my other employees that were hurt in a similar fashion.

I walk into work every day as their boss. They smile and always go above and beyond for me. Even when it gets tough for them, they don't complain. I've gotten to know each and every one of them. I know about their lives, their hopes, and their dreams...as well as what holds them back and the lessons and regrets that haunt them in life.

I looked at the pudgy women that always brings in the most delicious donuts in for everybody to enjoy. Her smile contagious. I looked at the guy that always asks how everyone is doing and listens like a true man. I looked at the older man that is always willing to teach whoever is willing to listen about the job. I looked at the jokester that never failed to make someone laugh. Then finally I looked at the young man that just joined and was once full of life now unmoving on the floor. Thankfully he wasn't dead...yet.

These are my people. They call me evil. They call me a villain. They say that villains treat people less then human. But what about them? People say they are hero's but as I looked at this display before me, it does not seem that way at all. I learned long ago that there really is not a right or wrong way. Just your way...and what ever suits his or hers self-interest...The world is terribly grey and I'm about to show them the way I do things when I'm pissed off. I looked solemnly at my employees.

"They will pay for this. You have my word." I said with a raw emotion that I couldn't describe. The employees looked at me sympathetically. The old man Phill spoke up gruffly between broken teeth giving him and odd lisp as he talked. "You don't have to. We understood the moment we accepted the job that something like this could happen one day." I just glanced at him before turning around. I couldn't look any further. I started to make my way out the building. On my way out the door I said something more to myself then to them. "I will go and I will show them what regret looks like."

...

It was raining cats and dogs outside as I paused Infront of a bar close to hero HQ. Thunder and lightning flashed in the reflection of the windows. This is the place these C-class heros like to hang out.

I walked inside casually and spotted the heros I was dying to see. The other people saw me. Noticing that I'm not here for fun, they either left the bar or walked where they thought would be out of harm's way. The group glanced at the front door and their eyes widened before smiling at me. The bald guy laughed while his team joined in. The skinny man next to him lit a cigarette while the women with butch hair and tattoos slouched down into a seat comfortably as if getting ready to watch a show.

"You finally made it! I was thinking you would be joining us. Did you like our little gift we sent to your employees? I think they liked it." The muscular hero with a bald head said mirthfully as he downed a shot.

"You lot sure enjoyed yourselves. You guys have been extremely lucky that I've been such a tolerant guy. Now your luck has ran out." That group burst out into laughter. The bald man walked up to me until he was face to face.

"You? A failure and laughingstock of a villain? Alright show me. Show me why even A class heros don't dare touch you?" The bald man with super strength hurled his shot glass on to the floor. The glass exploded as he clenched his fist—A hail maker in the works.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, but don't blame me. Blame your stupidity for pissing me off. Ah, this really is Darwinism at it's finest." I smirked as I gathered my power.

Suddenly, the skinny man that was smoking started coughing up a fit as he struggled to get ahold of himself. The women's chair leg snapped as she fell on her ass stunned. The bald man that was at this moment in mid swing tripped on his own two feet and fell face first into the pieces of glass that was now on the floor.

"Ahhhh! My eyes!" The man growled in pain as he stood back up. Now blinded, He tried to go for a tackle.

"I'll kill you!" He yelled as he looked as if he was crying blood.

I dodged easily as I picked up a beer bottle that just happened to be conveniently right where I needed it and smashed it on his head as the force of his tackle carried him into a table that tipped at an awkward angle as a fat man tried to shuffle out of the way. The table hit his solar plexus knocking the wind out of him. He fell unconscious as a loose lamp chandelier dropped right on his head and took the table with him launching a mug that was on it up into the air as the skinny man got ready for action. He grabbed a knife from his belt. The knife glowed a blue color before launching it at my face. The knife practically disappeared before getting blocked and redirected by that very same mug that just happened to fall precisely in the way of the knife and my face. The bald man woke up as the knife hit him in the kneecap. I walked slowly towards the skinny man as he looked increasingly frightened as his knives seem to miraculously miss or get blocked by objects in the bar that I casually threw in the way. The flying objects always seemed to be miraculously aimed at the bald man as he got increasingly injured as I went. When I was in reasonable distance from the skinny hero, I punched out aiming for his ugly face. The skinny man glowed blue and dodged only to trip over the wet floor and hit himself on a fallen edge of a chair in such a way that his neck cracked, knocking him out cold as he fell to the floor barely breathing. I glanced at the women that just managed to stand up only to witness the carnage of the past few moments.

"S-screw this." She turned and dashed out the bar into the rainy weather as her hair got wet only to run straight into a random stranger that knocked her into the street right Infront of a speeding car. She looked in a panic at the car as it honked it's horn aggressively before glowing purple and teleporting a few meters away. She laughed while breathing heavily as she thought she was out of the clear before lightning struck. She convulsed as lightning went from her skull to the ground. She collapsed down onto the pavement dead still.

I took a deep breath as I relished in my revenge. The other spectators in the bar looked at me like frightened animals as I made my way out.

I'm thinking sushi tonight when I get home.

The villainish man thought as he slowly made his way home without a single shred of guilt...

Note: I wrote this In like...under an hour. So definitely not my best work. Lol but it was fun. xD

Abacus.

An outdated term, an outdated power set. If it weren't for the x-gene testing and the lack of other neurodivergences, it wouldn't even be considered a supervillain. He could do math. Very, very swift math. Without a calculator. Without an Excel sheet. Or scrap paper.

Without evidence.

So, it made it simple to hide things under the table. Usually working with a companion, or playing second-fiddle to someone. Physics based traps. Once holding a captive at one of those 'swinging pendulums that will never have enough momentum to actually hurt her' things. Not that it kept Metallipalm from ripping the entire device out and using it as a wrecking ball.

So, how did he get away with it for so long? No physicality. No OOMF. Simple.

He didn't leave evidence. He could figure out how to do the math for laundering better than an entire suite of Forensic Accountants. Laundromats. Pawn shops. Cash only delis. You name it. Abe had it going. Then one day...

This hotshot C-lister called himself Catseye. His trick? Fourteen year old kid, -master- at manipulation of objects in motion. So he uses yoyos at the start but they get too...tetchy. So he switches to marbles. This whole "If you'd come up with it two years earlier it would have been cute" move, but now he's like Culkin in 2002. Played out. Probably on drugs.

Anyway...he chases this speedster into a laundromat and does the little catseye fling...only...you got a speedster. You got spinning drums full of water and glass. Whole place basically looked like a claymore went off in it. No one died...miracle of miracles.

I swear, MoM is real, and she's the reason no one gets hurt in this friggen city by a metahuman. But I digress.

Anyway...Abe posts this vid. And he's not talking. It's cheap, you know? 40-something year old mutant accountant, he doesn't have panache yet. But. It just has this...filler music. But most people these days, they're watching it on their phones with the sound off, yeah? And it's just...

One by one, the industrial units with their make and model, and how much it costs to replace. The windows. The lights. The clean-up crew. The friggen...the electricians. The sheer amount of labor, and work, because some speedball brat goes a little crazy in your laundry.

But that's not the part. That part's fascinating...but it's not the part.

The part that really gets people mad is when it cuts to Abe's tenant, this sweet woman named Lin, laid up in a hospital bed with a bruise the size of Montana on her head and those same little arrows and drop-downs. How much the ambulance cost. The surgery. The physical therapy. The wage from the hours the laundry won't be open. The therapy so she can go into her place of work and not be afraid every time a door swings too loud.

And the funny thing?

Abe didn't have to wait a day for it to get paid in full, and then some. And he realizes...he can do it the other way around.

So yes, that's why we're breaking into a strip mall accountant's office in the middle of the night on a tuesday. Abe says that this is where the police pension fund is run out of. Ready to have some REAL fun?

Abe always told me, no point in getting money if you can't keep it. No point in keeping it, if you can't spend it.

We're about to make a whole lot of dead money. Or make a whole lot of money dead. Either way, it's the money that's doing the dying, not us. So relax, and get the crowbar ready.

“I’m not a bad person (or am I better described as an “entity”), I used to be a bit of a monster but that was a LONG time ago before I had a handle on my powers. Turns out that when you have the ability to drain life force and devour souls coupled with a requirement to feed in order to survive things get a little crazy. I spent some time leading Aztec sacrifices as Tezcatlipoca, the Egyptians called me Apopis, I lived in Greece under the guise of Thanatos, and most recently lost my cool in Romania in the 1400’s. Ever since then I’ve done a really good job keeping everything in check; and ever since the 1500’s I’ve been working on passion project… pizza.

There are three things I like to do, cause low level mischief to keep hero’s employed (charity work), attempt to perfect the worlds greatest food (pizza), and also monologue in my own head (which I am currently doing fantastically). You see I tend to get introspective when I’m dealing with a mental crisis and at the moment I’m furious. Those so called “heroes” who constantly endanger the population with their wild antics (unless I craft some easy to crack scheme to occupy them) have crossed a line. I’m all for messing with your rivals but they did the unthinkable; they messed with my people and my pizza.

A few minutes ago I was prepping some pepperoni in the back room when I heard an explosion. I ran out front and to my horror discovered the heroes had “raided” my “secret lair” and in doing so they blew up the front of my store. Those asshats failed to account for the fact that I employ a super sweet teenager named Jenny and she just got carted away in an ambulance due to shrapnel! These animals wouldn’t even let me make sure she was okay before they put me in chains and threw me in the back of their van. It’s been ages since I’ve held a man’s soul in my hands or brought balance to the world through reckoning; but perhaps I’ve been too lax. These beings have no care for the plight of others and they’re too divided, I think this world needs to be reminded what a real monster looks like.”

The one called “Jim” also known as The Reaper, The Scourge of Gehenna, and Ruin One True Horseman of the Apocalypse opened his emerald eyes. In one fluid motion he cracked his neck and tore apart the heavy lead chains that had restricted his body.

The whites of his eyes rapidly darkened to a hue so deep they resembled a black hole and the green of his iris gained a subdued and yet somehow blinding brilliance as if the cosmos themselves rotated in his orbital sockets. The air warped around him and multicolored bands of radiant light shot out from his hands to impale the three costumed men in the van with him. In a fraction of a second (too fast for the human eye to witness) the bands warped to become wrapped in skeletal claws radiating an aura of insatiability. The 3 men gave out chocked gasps as their bodies rapidly decomposed becoming blacked motes of ash in a matter of seconds. An instant later the van itself careened into the car in front of it as a rusted husk and the buildings around became to crack and wither. Ruin calmed himself and the dome of decay surround him retracted to envelope his body.

“There is no need to harm the innocent when the guilty are so plentiful, after all souls all taste the same, and goodness deserves to survive (at least for now)… for it is not yet time to begin the work and something that is clean is easier to Ruin!”

Soa Netar was a woman with very few words. She almost never needed them due to her power. But coming to her needlework store front to see shattered glass, dried blood, burnt tapersies, and a flooded floor made the air hum as she walked towards the scene. For Soa wasn't just a business owner, but also a super with a hobby that didn't work within the law.

No one else was here, the police and medics already done their investigations. They wouldn't find what she needed, nor would they care. She had to find it on her own. With a deep breath in, the hum stopped. . . and the whispers began.

"I don't know what you are on about." Came from a gruff man. Bill, the cashier on for today. "If you don't have business here, you should be going."

Another voice, this one a teen girl. "Yea, we can't lock up while customers are here." Reese, a fiery lass that was on store stocking duties. "Please buy or go."

The next voice gave Soa a pause. "No can do." She heard. . . Prominence speak as crackling fire came under his voice. It made little sense at first.

But the next cleared it up as a sultry smooth voice came next. Snow Bunny. "We've found that this place has been funding supervillain activity. So we'll be shutting you down. Come quietly, or you will be met with adequate force."

Reese spoke again. "The hell are you on about? Get the fuck out of the store or-" She was cut off by a grunt and shattered glass

Soa let out a snort as she broke off the recording, seeing the rest as her phone finally pinged. She looked down to see Reese, now in a hospital bed with her phone. Sorry Boss, but I won't be able to make it to work tomorrow. Some icy arse punched me through the window. No one's dead, thankfully, but I think they wanted the safe.

Soa's skin slowly shifted from her fair color to a silvery sheen as she replied. Take however long you need off. Paid Sick Leave.

With that, Silver Sovereign left her business to repay her house call.

‐-------

"Man, who would have thought Ol' Shiny was getting funded from making quilts instead of robbing banks?" Snow Bunny asked, the ice-themed super relaxing within their Headquarters.

"Beats me, but without her funding, she shouldn't be able to make any more of those portal cards she uses for heists." Prominence said with a smirk.

"So all that's left is to catch her and bring her in." Called a third from the next room. "And considering how unguarded the store was and how easy we get her to turn tail without a word, this'll be in the bag."

"You said it, Bypass." Snow Bunny called. "By the way, wasn't Rumble supposed to meet us here?"

As if on cue, three knocks came on the door, making the steel frame shudder multiple times. "Sound's like that's him." Bypass hummed as he buzzed the door open.

Rumble's body flew in the opening doorway, splaying the big guy out on the far wall as he gave a grunt. The team's big bruiser, capable of making quakes with a thought, had a impact crater in his suit where his chest was, as if he had been hit with his own power.

The other three jumped up as Silver Sovereign walked into the room, the air around her humming with power as she inspected the supers daring to take her on. Rumble, the big buff guy he was, was already incapacitated from one of his own swings. The other three were just catharsis. Bypass was a nerdy tech wizard with the frame to match, and already pointed the bases defensives at her, while Snow Bunny and Prominence had summoned their elements in hand, the two models of female and male appearance respectively giving annoyed glares.

"So you are here villain? Ready to give yourself up?"

Silver Sovereign gave a small chuckle, an uncharacteristic move for her and one that immediately startled the other three supers. "Oh no, I'm here to return the favor from a few robbers and vandals."

The three froze, having never heard their nemesis speak before, at least with her own voice. It had always been pre-recorded, or spliced from ambient sound. "What..."

"You see, you three broke into my legitimate business I had for a hobby, and hurt two of my best workers. This means I no longer need to entertain you."

Bypass slammed the button to fire on Silver in a twitchy panic, only for all of the shots to bounce away from the villain and strike Prominence and Snow Bunny, energy shots breaking their focus and dismissing their powers.

"Wait, you've never been this strong. Those shots should be breaking you out of your transformation!" Bypass said with fear in her voice, only for Silver to chuckle darkly, a cacophony of laughter from the four hero's filling the air with her.

"Because you were never worth my time, until now."

The next day, four metahumans were wheeled into the psych ward, none of them daring to speak. Each had bruises on their chest and fingernail marks on their skin. Their eyes all darted around in paranoia, as they shuddered, restrainted and terrified. Once someone could get anything from them, it was a simple note, all four saying the same thing.

Don't let the Echoes return.

crack

Crack

Crack

" Please I beg you stop!" mighty lad screamed. A steel cane rams into his jaw

"Martha, Benjamin, Alice, Steven" the wack hatter mutters

Mere hours ago Angelstar wack hatter's boutique cosplay shop was attacked by the league of cool crime stoppers. The employees were beaten to within an inch of there lives and arrested and now sit in jail for aiding a criminal.

"How did you know" wack hatter growled

"We have been watching you for a while now you're movements your identity is not so secret Dennis" " So you assumed my employees had anything to do with my other life you fools" wack hatter sighs

"They helped you move glycerin into warehouses your going to bomb the mayor's home" mighty lad wheezed out "We sell soap" "What" "Glycerin it's one the main ingredients in soap it was Martha's soap actually"

"That doesn't change the fact it can be used to make bombs Martha was probably your second in command"

Whack hatter growing angrier by each word muttered by this wannabe beat cop. Yells " She was pregnant you piece of shit" "What" "When she was arrested she called me the beating you gave Martha led her to going in the hospital" "Oh no no no" "She miscarried, a beacon of hope destroyed a soon to be family even my origin is happier than that" "Oh God why this was superwonder's idea we were just following her orders." "During our call we spoke of revenge and how she wants to murder each one of you. You, mighty lad are the first to fall and soon this whole city" With one solid whack from his cane whack hatter killed mighty lad instantly leaving a crater in his skull. After the killing only one thought bounced around Whack hatter's skull "How the fuck do you make bombs out of glycerin"

My power is telekinesis, but they've never seen me use that power, instead, "We've defeated your measly robots Technie! It's time for you to surrender and put and end to your evil deeds!" Honestly, it was a fun hobby, but cause an explosion one too many times and all of a sudden you're a supervillain.

It didn't help that I was criminally bored at the time, "You brainless fools! You think these robots were all I had? You were WRONG!" I said, calling forth my new invention. It stood at three meters tall and packed quite a punch. It resembled a gorilla both in form and strength. For this bad puppy I had to call in a few favors. Turns out when you play supervillain for fun, you can also meet actual supervillains.

"Now go!" I ordered my and [Redacted]'s creation. It jumped forward at an incredible pace and for a moment I feared it would be too much for these C-grade heroes, but they managed to surprise me by first taking the robots vision and then its mobility. Thankfully my mask hid my worry and I didn't let my posture waver.

It was a tricky thing to do as there were numerous small hidden cameras, but the black tar they threw at it seemed to cover its entire body and stick.

Their empowered arrows were too weak to bypass its defense, let alone their measly punches and flamethrower attacks, but they were quick to change tactics when nothing of that worked.

After throwing more of that tar, they carefully evaded its punches and attacked its joints. I have to say, they'd improved over the course of these last few years.

While they were busy doing all of that, I sneakily made my escape. Yet another loss for Technie... I wonder what I should have for breakfast.

The day passed quickly as I drank my coffee and watched the news. Today was of course, all about Technie. It was at times like these I had to wonder how many heroes and supervillains were faking it. It was a good reality show though, and I enjoyed messing with the heroes.

I still had to head to my civilian business, but on the meanwhile I would think of new quirky things to add to my dialogue. I should also try to break less roads during my fights, this traffic was horrendous.

Finally when I was right outside my store, I noticed the numerous police cars and sirens that'd surrounded the place. A bad feeling started to well up on my stomach as I had yet to see my dear employees.

I approached with all the self restraint I could master, nudging a cop that very obviously wasn't paying attention, "What happened here?" I asked and he jumped, turning around to see who was speaking.

"Get out of here civilian, there is an ongoing hero investigation here about a supervillain called Technie. I predict things won't be as peaceful as they were in the morning." The man said, trying to shoo me out of the scene.

The bad feeling only increased at his words, I batted away his hands, holding my poker face as best as I could, though he was starting to grow suspicious, so perhaps I wasn't doing as good of a job as I could.

The officer looked me over once more, seeing the figure of a worried man and with a sigh started to answer, "If this is indeed one of the Technie's hideouts, he won't be happy. The heroes entered with a band, not knowing what to expect and a lot of the civilians working inside were injured. I heard one of them was even in a critical condition. Yo-" I cut him off there, any remaining self-restrain I had vanishing in seconds.

The officer didn't even notice when he went unconscious, but it was doubtful he would forget the visage of a man filled with enough anger to burn down a city.

Still, the man hadn't done anything wrong, so I loathed to hurt him more.

As I walked back towards my car, taking out a spare suit I'd only put there as a joke, my mind started to wonder. There was no way the heroes were this stupid, there had to have been customers going in and out. Let alone that, the outside was build from glass, it was reinforced glass, but nowadays it would be rarer to find ones that had normal glass. They had to have seen my employees.

Yet... they still decided to head in with force. They still decided to hurt civilians. My people, my employees.

The law was clear, in a fight between supers, those that'd caused the most harm were called villains. In comparison to what they'd done today, I'd done nothing. They were villains. They were villains, and so was I.

I cracked my neck, wearing the suit without even moving. It was a costly trick to design, though made easier with my telekinesis, but my mind wasn't on that now.

Perhaps I'd been too kind. Perhaps I should take myself seriously for once.

I threw one of the police vehicles that was blocking my way and the police finally started to take notice of me. They noticed my mask and yelled at me to back off, but I didn't reply, I only kept moving towards my store. When the first officer shot at me, I caught the bullet, surprising them all. If they wanted to see a serious Technie, they now would.

I ignored the officer that shot me and passed by him, not sparing him a glance. The man collapsed into his own two feet after I'd passed by, breathing heavily. They could see I was serious when I hadn't made a single comment and shook their heads. This wasn't a fight they could interfere in.

Instead, they opened the radio to inform the others and perhaps even the heroes, but how would I have left a piece of technology intact when I was changing into my suit. There were numerous cameras and the best way to avoid getting my real identity caught was to fry them all. While I wasn't the tech supervillain they all believed me to be, I still had a lot of toys in store to make them think I was.

When I reached the smoldering remains of my store, a vision of happy, hard working employees superimposed itself in front of the destruction. And then, the charred remains and melted glass... my face grew colder and colder beneath the mask, and when I saw the ambulance at the edge of my vision, recognizing Greg, everything turned red.

The pavement cracked beneath me and reality started to undulate. It seems like the heroes had finally heard of who'd appeared and made their entrance. But this time they didn't encounter the quirky and sarcastic man that normally greeted them with a bang, or a trap. No, the Technie they encountered was silent and nothing had attacked them on the way, despite their expectations. And despite what they saw, the man in front of them was an order of magnitude scarier than Technie.

A bit unnerved at his quiet figure, the archer Melinda spoke first, "If this is about your store we're sorry, my friends and I were too excited to finally have a lead at your homebase and-"

Her leader, Tart, stopped her at that point, putting his hand up to shush her, "Why do you care about the base of a supervillain. We either kill or capture him and we're done with this menace to society."

None of the heroes noticed, but the fluctuating space that'd started to calmed down tensed a bit more as the man finished speaking. More cracks appeared at the asphalt but they didn't notice that either.

Not trusting myself to speak much, I only uttered two words, "I see..." My cold tone threw off even their leader, who by now had a glowing sword up and ready to fight with.

Slowly, I started to walk towards them, taking in every little detail as they didn't know how to react to a Technie with no robots. From how they tensed up, to the smirk on their leader vanishing, I saw and accounted for every little detail.

But it wasn't needed. With my next step, they all fell to the ground, the pressure around them intensifying to a point where even the barrier one of them threw around them didn't last for more than a second.

The fire that poured out of the red hair's hands was consequently extinguished moments after its appearance. Still, I didn't want to kill them, so I eased up on the pressure a bit, but not enough where they could move.

From their point of view it should feel like a hundred elephants were pressing down on them. And they should be thankful I hadn't turned their bones into paste already, though looking at the hateful look Tart gave me, that wasn't going to last long.

"Don't bother Tart, you five have a few things to apologize for." I said, breaking Tart's bones the very same second. First his fingers, one by one, then his entire arm and then about every limb in his body.

His screams were more of an annoyance than anything pleasing, and I shut his mouth to make him shut up. The moaning was still very annoying, so at the end, I knocked him unconscious.

(1/2)

I was about to single handedly redefine the power scaling system. I could move things with my mind. No faster than the average person could throw something, no larger than a basket ball, and the heaviest thing was a 25 pound plate in a gym but that made my nose bleed.

I focused, I bled, I almost blacked out, but I had my own justice. The bloody bodies with pieces missing of my social outcast comrades who just wanted a safe workplace and some people who treated them like family. Dead. Mangled. I’ve never been serious when I fought someone with real super powers. Low level telekinesis. Like mine was barely considered C level. I will be an S tier threat to anyone who gets in the way of my vengeance.

The unshattered glass fractures. The dust rises and moves in geometric patterns showing the various directions of my powers fluctuating around me. Immediately I had guns drawn on me and uninjured heros taking their special stances.

My nose bled. It was the first time I’d moved more than one thing at a time. Every officers guns were yanked out of their hands, turned around, and the triggers pulled.

My eyes became bloodshot. My skin red. A hero who’s impact resistant charged towards me. They thought because they were bullet proof they were indestructible. They were fast, but I isolated their throat and crushed. Their head bobbled as their body went limp and fell to my feet. I stepped over the brutish body.

I saw the screecher, a woman with super sonic screams, take a deep breath. A scream like that, must’ve been what shattered my remodels windows. My ears bled as the panic set into the screachers eyes. She wanted air, I forced it in. I pushed a basketball sized portion of air down her throat and made her lungs explode inside her body. She threw up blood and chunks as her body bloated with air.

Isolating and rotating their brain inside a hero’s skull. They wouldn’t be controlling my thoughts any time soon.

Plucking your laser eyes out and letting them dangle. Kept you from closing your laser proof eyelids as you tore your own hands and body to shreds trying to cover them. Explained the scorch marks behind the register inside.

Seeing their precious hero’s destroyed in front of them, the crowd that had gathered in front of my simple little late night coffee shop turned tale and ran. The ambulance where the injured hero was being taken care of while my employees were barely being bandaged on the pavement tried to leave. Blood was coming from my ears, eyes, nose, and was starting to push its way through even my skin but I got it. That monsters head. As the ambulance drove away I held his head in place. He was strapped to a Gurnee that was locked in place to the back of the truck. Part of his spine ripped out with his head.

There was no turning back. I done playing around.

It was 4:45 in the afternoon and I knew I was going to be late but I really wanted to finish the documentary. It was called “A brief History: The Extra-Capable”. Brief History was my favorite channel, most of what they covered was relevant and sometimes even useful.

Apparently by their latest counts there’s over a billion of us now AND they finally found the exact mutation that caused us to come about in the first place. That was exciting and a little nerve racking since normies still outnumbered is seven to one I’m sure it’ll have ramifications throughout society. It’s already bad enough that you have to register with the PPDEC (powered people’s department of the extra-capable), more commonly known as Peedics, if you’re ever caught using or having any abilities.

Over all the Peedics themselves weren’t all that terrible but due to bounty hunter laws and a whole lot of lobbying the whole “Hero vs Villain” trope became a reality. Since I came from a family of nobles and way back when there was just enough….keeping it in the family…for the mutation to occur everyone in my family for generations on my moms side has had some sort of ability. Unfortunately due to being a little bit of a rebel with entirely too much attitude I landed myself on the registry and not on the side of the hero’s.

Thankfully one of my cousins was an awfully good lawyer that still owed me one for helping them get a sports scholarship despite their only extra powers being to tell when someone’s lying. Still, getting on that list was the beginning of a life long trail of bad luck and misunderstandings. I used my powered to make a bunch of money in my youth that paid for the startup of a few small businesses, but I always had passion in being a performer. Too ugly to be an actor, and my voice was a little too nasally for standup comedy I figured I’d enjoy my time playing the part of the label I was given at 18.

Now I’m in my late 30’s, run the most visited late night coffee shop “Camera Free Coffee”, a special suit fabrication company for the extra capable “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tailor”, and a small time construction company for ex convicts “Lessen Learned Renovation”. Oh, and in my spare time I harass Heroes and just generally toe the line between terrorism and technically legal for funsies.

After finishing the documentary and heading out for some afternoon taunting of the newbies that just got into town and playing dumb so they’d let me go after a lecture or two I did my rounds between the businesses.

In stark contrast to my personal behavior I was a very serious employer. Every one of my employees mattered to me and I personalized all of their schedules and benefits packages to best fit them while still turning a profit in the business. I genuinely care about those who choose to work for me.

That only made it all the most heartbreaking when the next day I went to check on the progress of my Lessen Learned crews work after they’d all gone home and seen the place look completely ransacked. Everything was either destroyed or missing. I would come in tomorrow when they were all supposed to be here to talk to them.

The Tailor was just around the block from my favorite place in the whole world, the coffee shop, and I passed by it every day except today. Today it was missing in its entirety. Literally gone. Wall to wall the building wasn’t there as if it had been ripped from its foundation and thrown into another dimension. This reminded me of one of the idiot new Peedic heros “never was man” stupid name but apparently he had very specific reality manipulation capabilities and was pretty salty about not being made a class B hero. I jogged to the coffee shop now worried about what might be happening there.

I had at least one extra-capable on staff at all my businesses, except the coffee shop. There, every single employee has some sort of extra capability.

It was a massacre.

Reporters across the street trying to get any information they could and police were taking statements, mostly from the smug hero’s that tried saying my staff attacked them. I had 14 employees. Four survived and only one was uninjured. Jasmine was okay, but she wasn’t fine. Only one hero was injured and it was that almost B rank one that must’ve gone on a rampage because of my antics.

Jasmines only power is called damage swap. After she’s injured to a certain extend in exchange for her experience double the pain she’s able to transfer the injuries to the next person that touches her. She tried being a hero. She couldn’t mentally handle it with the powers she had.

She told me what happened as I wrapped a blanket around her, careful not to touch her directly in case there was anything wrong that I couldn’t see. I wasn’t careful enough. I grazed her ear and was immediately bombarded with the mental trauma of what happened in excruciating detail. She screamed and passed out, probably for the best.

She wouldn’t want to see what happens next.

I stormed back into my car as my staff were carried away by ambulances. I would wait there until the police investigation on my store would finish, so I could finish closing up for the day. Those bastards.. I didn't know what happened, only caught the tail end of it. I was coming back from my break when I saw that fucking 'superhero team' leaving with all the money in my cash register. They called themselves 'The Heroes Of Peace'. What kind of name was that, anyway? The fact that all four of them agreed to it was astounding. I looked up, realizing that I should probably head home, and that the police investigation on my store would most likely last several days. As I backed out of the lot where I my store was, I began imagining what I would do to them if I found them. I anticipated it greatly.

(A few days later).

I'm on a walk, sometime around midnight. A wanted poster catches my eye. The person on the poster is supposedly wanted for numerous murders, the victims all with their throats torn out. I scoff. These posters have been being put up for months, with no sign of stopping. Another sign of how incompetent these supposed heroes are. That's when I notice the first of their team, Thunderclap, also seemingly on a walk. I've seen them enough times without proper disguises to recognize them. I shift myself to look and sound like another team member, Captain Pyro. I walked up to them cheerfully. "Hey, buddy!" I call to them. They looked surprised. "What are you doing up this late, Pyro?" I smile. "Oh, nothing. Just having trouble sleeping. You?" "Same here." While they talk about whatever bullshit made them unable to sleep, I slowly drew the switchblade I always kept in my back pocket. I notice we're just reaching an alleyway. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" They blinked. "Sure." I shoved them into the alley and against a wall, flicking open my knife and driving it into their stomach. I now shift myself back to normal. Their eyes widen. "Wha- What the hell?!" They say, in shock. "Why did you destroy my pizza shop? Assault my coworkers?" "We- we-" They stop trying to think of panicked excuses and start to scream for help. I stop them, drawing the switchblade from their stomach and using it to remove their tongue. I now press the knife lightly to their throat as their eyes widen even more. "You know those police reports that have been being released, of all those missing people being found with their throats cut out?" Their eyes widen even more, as I whisper, with almost childlike glee. "I did that." I drew the knife across their throat. I wipe the knife across their shirt before pocketing it. I then hit them hard in their knee, causing them to fall. I turn and begin to walk away. I notice another one of the wanted posters. I grab it and look at it for a few moments. I smirk, before tossing it on Thunderclap's lifeless body.

"Today, on the anniversary of her passing, we commemorate the life of Silent Light, the single greatest hero of recent times. Born in 1985, her civilian identity unknown, Silent Light joined the Super Guard Team in february 2001, being mentored by The Captain as the new heavy assault member of the team. Her voice, when whispered properly, was able to conjure fire and light, which joined to her increased strength and resistance made her an ideal candidate for the Guard.

Sadly, during the battle for Paris en 2015, Silent Whiper met her end the 29th of november at the hands of Black Cultist. We are proud to have with us today none other than The Captain. Captain, welcome to the show..."

Laura turned changed the radio channel to listen some electro swing. It was 10:30 am and the café was filled to the brim with clients. She knew that while a few clients may enjoy a talk show, what most of them wanted was to have some background music, and steaming mug of coffee, maybe a pastry and peace. That was what she sold in 'Café Arland', an small area of repose in the neverending stress and speed of the great city.

She had just finished cleaning one of the coffee machines when Arnold came back from his break. He was a young lad on his late teens that had recently got into college, but he did struggle financially. He was diligent, well behaved and had a lovely smile that cheered up the day of even the grumpiest of clients. "Hey boss, I'm back, would you like to take your break now?"

"I'd love to", Laura replied, "but I'll go to my office to do some maths. Can you handle this?"

"Certainly, take as much as you need. I'll call you if something's on fire"

"You better pull it out before I come back!".

They both laughted as she took off the delantal and got to the back of the café. She had taken a considerable effort to make it as lovely as possible: there was quite a comfortable staff room with a sofá, TV, and an small kitchen. She even spent money on building a new staff bathroom that was quite bigger than the client's one and was always perfectly clean. Her philosophy was that staff members had to be happy in order to make their clients happy as well. It was a modest business, but she loved every bit of it.

Laura got into her office and, after locking the room, she turned on the computer and browsed the news with some specific tags: [Fire Lady] [Robbery] [News] [The Captain]. The results came back immediately, talking about the heist of two days before: "Fire Lady assaults again a gambling office, stealing millions. The Captain showed to the scene just a minute later, but the villaness managed to escape after throwing him a fireball that blinded the hero. He declared that the SGT are after her and should apprehend Fire Lady very soon". Laura smiled.

The same declarations every day. Every week. Every month. She printed the news report and placed it inside a huge dossier with all of Fire Lady's successfull hits: an actor known unofficially for being involved into child abuse rings that was killed in a fire, a pharmaceutical CEO who intended to increase price of insulin hundreds of times that was found beaten almost to death, an underage detention center that was attacked and all inmates freed (althought in this one the reported missed to mention the abuses the guards were doing on those children), and a long etcetera.

She still found it funny and sad. That she had to become a villain, even a minor one, to even bring a bit of goodness to the world. And, as always, the SGT would say she is not a threat, that she is just a wannabe villain that would soon be detained. But they never did.

She saved all those things and produced her financial notebook. She still had to do some maths, after all. Almost twenty minutes went by when a buzz interrupted her work: Arnold was asking for help. It was 11:30am, it was usual that more clients came by at that time. She walked towards the front and soon realized something was off: he heard Arnold talking very fast, scared, and a second voice replied, a voice she knew too well. She had started to run when there was a huge crash and something stuck through the wall next to the door that lead to the café.

A long, bloodied blade.

She opened the door. The clients were fleeing and screaming. Over the counter a huge man wearing a steel and golden armor was holding a weapon and, impaled by it, Arnold too his last breaths. The Captain slowly looked at Laura. "I've finally found you, Fire Lady. Your servant didn't want to cooperate". The so called hero pulled the sword back, and Arnold's body fell limbly to the ground. "Now, about that fireball you threw to my face..."

"What... did you..."

"Oh, poor little villain is scared now?" he said, mockingly. "You shouldn't have insulted me with your presence, you whore!"

He took a huge swing towards Laura. She ducked, raised a hand, whispered: "holy light", a glow covered her hand and, with a loud 'clank', the sword was violently stopped against her flesh. The Captain observed her hand as the golden glow rapidly spread to the rest of her body and, when Laure rose her head to stare at him again, his face grew paler.

A second later, The Captain was thrown out of the building, hit several times on the pavement and stop himself abruptly when he hit the wall at the other side. He stood up moving away the debris that was falling over him, and he saw a ghost brought back from the death. Laura was hovering, covered by a layer of golden light, while silver flames orbited around her hands; her eyes glew white and her hair floated while energy sparks jumped from the tips of each strain.

"No... You are dead! I saw you die!!"

"You killed Silent Light", she said, her voice booming. "You killed her when you liberated corrupt politicians. When you let assassins, rapists and other bastards to get away because they paid more. You killed my belief in super heroes the same day you started training me! Just as you tried to kill me and let Black Cultist take the fall!!"

"You became a villain! You had to be stopped!"

"No. I did not" she said as she rose the palm of her hand towards The Captain. "I learned the truth. I became free". The light concentrated on her hand, and then she whispered: "Kill the evil".

​

_______________________________________________________________________________________

News reports: 30th of november 2022:

Silent Light is not dead! The situation is still unclear, but it seems that after being taken for dead at the hands of Black Cultist the 29th november 2015, she adopted the identity of Fire Lady. The Captain has fallen to her hands and, few minutes after, the tower of the Super Guardian Team has bursted in flames. It is still unknown what is causing this conflict or how many heroes have perished in this battle, we will continue informing as facts are confirmed.

In other news, the family of Arnold Anders, sadly killed during the fight of Silent Light and The Captain, has today received a sum of 15 million dollars with a letter of a very dear friend of Arnold. Anders family has refused to make any further declarations.

1: Aftermath

I sit on the factory floor, back against a wall, fire-foam soaking through my pants as I stare vacantly. Irony. I've often wished that my mind would stop and be quiet for a while. Now it's as silent as the grave.

It's quiet out there, too. The sirens stopped a while ago. The ambulances are gone. The machines are silent. A few of my employees are still here. Those who were completely uninjured, I sent home. Those who were badly hurt got a ride to the hospital on the company's dime.

Ray got a ride to the morgue.

Margaret, the press operator, touches my shoulder gently. "Boss? It's ... it's not your fault. We knew what we were getting into. And you couldn't have stopped them if you'd been here. They're too powerful."

She doesn't understand, but that's my fault. I've shielded them, kept them in the dark about who I am. Sure, they know they're working for a supervillain, but I never let them know the truth. I should have. I tried to protect them but all I did was deprive them of the ability to make an informed decision.

2: The Heist

Earlier:

I stride out through the wreckage of the bank's doors, cackling in victory. In each hand I have a big bag of loot, and I'm flanked by a pair of Steam-Powered Crime Automata. Suddenly I stop, eyes wide. "The Justice Three? How?!"

Cannonade, leader of the south metro area's number two C-list superhero team, strikes a pose. "Well, if it isn't Professor Cogsworth, the steampunk sideshow, caught red handed." Heat ripples are coming off the plasma gun that makes up his left arm, indicating that it's warmed up and ready for action.

Fulcrum takes a step forward and grins at me as she slams a fist into her palm with a noise that sounds like a gunshot, showing off her super-strength. The Crimson Quiver nocks an arrow with a glittering, wickedly sharp head and simply stares humorlessly.

I gulp nervously, then rally. "It's three on three, super-nerds, and my superior mind tips the scales in AIEEEE!"

I shriek in terror as Cannonade fires a plasma bolt. I bring up my arms in a defensive gesture and the blast hits the swag bag in my right hand, blasting it apart. Quarters and nickels shower the sidewalk like hail and burning dollar bills fill the air like autumn leaves, drifting out to the street.

"GET THEM!" I sputter, and the Steam-Powered Crime Automata spring into action. With a thoomp! the first fires a grenade at Fulcrum. The explosion knocks her on her ass, but she rolls with it and doesn't seem hurt. The other fires a burst of bullets at the Crimson Quiver, but he slides out of the way like a liquid and the bullets stitch a line of pock-marks in the brickwork of the building across the street.

Well, I perform with both valor and panache, but before long, I'm empty handed and my automata are collapsed on the ground spewing steam. Time for me to make an exit. I throw off my opera cape, revealing my jetpack. I spring into the sky on wings of flame, but my opera cape is pinned to the jetpack by an arrow, flapping behind me. The extra drag and imbalanced thrust send me into a spin, and my defiant cry of "You haven't seen the last of Professor Cogsworth!" loses some effect as I corkscrew away.

Later that evening, I'm nursing a fine scotch as I review the media coverage of my encounter. Civilian casualties: zero. Property damage: hundreds of dollars. Fires started: none.

Cannonade gives a big, square-jawed grin for the camera as he says, "Cogsworth is no threat to us, and as long as we're on the job, he's no threat to you, citizens."

I've seen enough. I turn off the TV.

God, this is so much FUN! He's playing the straight man role so perfectly--if I didn't know better, I'd think he was sincere.

In a few weeks, an antique steam locomotive is coming through town on a publicity tour for the railroad--stealing that would be a feather in Professor Cogsworth's cap, would it not? I start planning, knowing that I can count on Cannonade and company to match me move for move.

(part 3 follows)

The three heroes slammed open the door behind the bakery, leaving several badly beaten workers crumpled on the floor. Some of them weren't moving. "Hey 1, should we call an ambulance or something? They dont look too good." 1 scoffed. "Absolutely not. They got what was coming to them, 2. They should have thought about the consequences before working for the Overlord."

Before 2 could respond, the door slammed shut behind them, and the lights blared to life, temporarily blinding the trio. When their eyesight returned, the Overlord himself stood before them. "Got what was coming to them, yes? What an interesting way to justify yourself." The Overlord scarcely had finished his sentence before 3 swept in, hefting his battle hammer high before slamming it down, caving in the Overlord's skull. All that remained was a mass of wires and electronics as the intercom crackled overhead. "Oh, please. after that display of brutality, do you really think I'd be stupid enough to confront you in person?" The Overlord said, his voice dripping with contempt. 1 punched the wall, growling with wrath. "Come out, you coward! Fight like a man!" 

"Oh, fight like a man? Do you mean like you assaulted my unarmed employees? Have you ever heard of a front, or a cover? Had you considered that I may have hired random people to hide my trail since you seem so familiar with my typical associates? They have nothing to do with this, you imbeciles. Good men and women beaten nearly to death over something they had nothing to do with. They're practically civilians. You have finally abandoned the people you claim to fight for, in the name of the greater good."

2 shrunk back, trying to hide behind 1 as if he could protect him from the well-earned scolding. "How could we have known?" he asked timidly. 

"HOW?!?" The Overlord shouted, causing the speakers to squeal in protest and 2 to duck further behind 1.

"If you had an ounce of common sense, you would have realized the obvious. You are either careless or callus, and proven yourselves to be an undeniable public threat. Until this point, you have been tolerated. You have been playing hero, and I have been keeping you entertained. However, you have been playing for so long that you have forgotten what it meant to be a hero in the first place. Before today, your act was innocent, and perhaps even a little endearing. Now you have lost your innocence, leaving us on equal footing for the first time in your little game. The training wheels are off now, children. Pray that you've learned how to walk, because now you have to run. Besides, I would hate for anyone else to get hurt." 

As he said this, several slots began to open in the ceiling. The three heroes looked upward in horror as they saw the faint glow of something burning above, quickly racing down the newly opened shoots. "On a related note, are you familiar with the murder holes in medieval fortifications? Quite a barbaric tactic, but I think you have certainly earned it. How did you phrase it earlier? It seems you'll be getting what's coming to you."

This new generation of heroes didn’t understand the unwritten rules, the rules that were written in blood by their predecessors. They were reckless, with none of the caution or respect the old hands had. That got people killed, people like his minion, and best friend. Heroes don’t kill civilians, they don’t kill minions, and they sure as shit don't raid villains legitimate businesses, especially during working hours. Somehow the Plant Pact got it in their minds to do all three. It was a miracle only three people died. By the end of the day three more would be dead.

“What are we gonna do boss?” His only remaining minion, Jeremy, asked as the last of the first responders packed up and left. The ruins of his once vibrant corner store were cut to pieces, along with three people, only one of which worked for him, and the damn heroes were celebrating on the net. It was galling.

A familiar rage burned inside him, usually kept under tight control, hidden under a thick layer of playful mischievousness. That control was fraying. His superpower reflected emotion, amplified it, and granted power based on the type and strength of the emotion. If he just let go he’d spiral into a fury that’d leave him either dead or half the city burned, probably both. It was tempting, oh so tempting to just let go. Maybe if he was younger, or less experienced, or less cautious he might have, but he wasn’t like the Plant Pact. He refused to be. Instead, he let the rage simmer and smolder, on the edge of a flare-up, but controlled.

“We aren’t going to do anything Jeremy. You’re going to go home. Call your girlfriend over, and make sure you have an alibi. You’ll want one after this.”

“Are you sure?” Jeremy looked skeptical, of course he was. He’d only seen him lose, often in humiliating fashion. Never mind that he never got caught. He was a joke, a loser, an incompetent villain, more meddlesome than dangerous. Jeremy never saw him at his worst.

Jeremy was a good kid that got caught up in a bad business, he’d practically begged him for a job after every other villain in the city rejected him. He also was never good at reading between the lines, and never quite questioned why an incompetent nobody lasted as a villain for over a decade. He was about to find out.

“Go home Jeremy, and make sure to keep an eye out. You’ll want to see what happens next.”

He didn’t bother waiting for a response, hands already moving toward his phone. You didn’t go a decade in the business without making friends, and he had a favor to call in. Any decent cyber security specialist could find three teenagers bragging on a Facebook live stream, much less his old friend Grey Hat, one of the first people to ever manifest an internet-based superpower. He’d get a kill order for what he was about to do, but then again what proper villain didn’t have one? It was time he finally joined the big leagues. He only wished his dead friend was around to see it.

***

The C-list hero's hideout was an abandoned warehouse in the bad part of town, only a mile from his place of business. He was a target of opportunity, a convenient mark for reckless do-gooders with an appetite for destruction. They said as much on what little he could stomach of their live stream. His phone was in ruins now, along with the tattered remains of his control. Good thing he didn’t have to wait anymore.

The battered door flew off its hinges with a flex of the arm and was tossed to the side like garbage, making a clamor as it rolled and tumbled to a stop. He wanted to melt the entire place into slag, but not before making sure they knew what was coming. He wanted to see their fear before the end.

“Oh shit!” Someone yelled, high pitched so it must be the lone woman on the team, Root. He usually didn’t touch women or children but there was an exception to every rule.

The three heroes shot out of their makeshift den, a couple of couches, a TV, and a large table in the far corner of an empty warehouse. They were quick to get into formation, to their credit. Their dark-skinned leader Stout Oak taking point, flanked by Root and Razor Leaf. What he couldn’t commend was their response.

“Calm down guys it’s just Diet Sprite. What’s he going to do, tickle us to death?” Stout Oak said.

Root and Razor Leaf snickered in response, both visibly relaxing. Stout Oak even had the balls to point his phone at him, no doubt still recording. He was part of the night's entertainment after all, might as well give it to them.

“I always liked the name Sprite you know? I named myself after the trickster fairies of legend, more out of an ideal than anything. It was a great state of mind to be in, always fun and playful, never serious. I wanted to stay like that forever, and with my power I could have.”

“Can we skip to the part where you swear undying revenge and then get beat up? This isn’t a movie.” Stout Oak interrupted.

Sprite smiled thinly, a fake transparent thing. “You’re right, it’s real life. In real life heroes die when they fuck up.”

As the last syllables left his mouth, he moved. Rage lent his limbs an incredible strength, the painful burning almost pleasurable. He grabbed Razor Leaf's arms faster than he could react and twisted. The pop of bone and ripping of muscles made the fire inside flare, like new wood to the fireplace. Something inside him fed on the pain, enjoyed it. It made him stronger.

Someone was screaming, it might have been him, as roots burst from the concrete. He shared some of his rage with them. The air shimmered, the concrete near him glowed and the giant roots vaporized, leaving not even ash. His eyes met Roots, he could see the fear reflected in the thin woman's eyes like fire, the fearful poignant moment of clarity, of understanding. The next moment she was gone, erased in flames.

Something hard and wooden cracked him in the back of the head, sending him stumbling but undamaged. He was too angry to be hurt. Stout Oak was twice his size and still growing, turning into more of a titan of wood than a man. Even amid his rage, he shook his head.

“What possessed you to turn into wood against someone like me?”

Flames crawled up Stout Oak’s giant form, burning great gouges into his wooden flesh. The man-tree roared in pain, as it turned to char, but didn’t die. Not yet, that would be too easy. The man had to suffer.

He turned at the sound of boots on concrete, Razor Leaf was up and running, clutching his broken hands. He was always the most dangerous of the three, able to control leaves and make them as hard and sharp as steel. Unfortunate for him that he required his hands to direct his power. That’s a weakness any supervillain would exploit.

He almost casually picked up a piece of broken concrete, courtesy of Root, and tossed it at the fleeing man. Razor Leaf almost made it to the open entryway before a rock the size of his head tore through both legs. There was screaming but he ignored it as he surveyed the scene, happy with the destruction but not satisfied, not yet.

An eye caught Stout Oak’s phone, somehow undamaged despite their brief fight. Perfect. The phone was still streaming as the chat went nuts. A couple more minutes and it was sure to be shut down, but for now he had their attention. He panned the phone around to the dead and dying heroes, before switching it around to film his face.

“You may know me as Sprite, a minor villain. I wanted things to stay that way, I never wanted to do this but they forced my hand by attacking my business and killing my customers and employees. Let this be a lesson to you all. Do not fuck with me, or you will burn like these three.” He smiled at the camera before switching it back around.

The cheap metal sheeting of the warehouse warped and contorted from heat, as the concrete underfoot bubbled and roiled. The phone in hand was hot but still functional as the warehouse began to collapse. He embraced the heat, the pain, and the rage, as his power built into a crescendo.

“You can call me Infernum.”

C-list was a comfortable position. I hardly ever had to put much work into the villainy aspect, so I got so focus more on my personal business. And, It meant I got to be a little bit goofy, which is always fun. For the most part, the heroes I ended up facing were kind, helpful, and sweet. I even kept in contact with a few of them.

Despite being publicly listed as a villain by most government, the truth is a bit more complicated. For most would be heroes, I'm the first real stumbling block they face, the test that's given to see if they can handle the serious threats posed by others, or if they'd be better of sticking with small-scale threats and crime on a small scale.

I also existed to weed out true villains masquerading themselves as heroes. that is where this story begins.

I was working at my bookstore, a small little place with a cozy atmosphere. I had a few employees, mostly people who had recently gotten out of prison and had tried to turn their lives around. Good people, hard workers.

It was a slow day, and then in walked "The Hammer," The most recent "hero" I'd been tasked with assessing. He didn't lack power, that was for certain. He had the ability to turn any part of his body into any metal, super-strength, super-speed, and flight to boot. What he lacked was morals. He only seemed to care about himself, and he could get quite angry when he didn't get his way.

The store was no stranger to heroes and villains visiting, but most were discrete, using their secret identity. But here was The Hammer, in his full getup, standing in the open doorway after he'd kicked down the door.

"I know you're here Amanda! Come on out!" His voice boomed

I saw Amanda standing frozen. she turned to run, but was hardly able to move before the hammer rushed over to her and grabbed her by the arm. I spoke up.

"Sir! let go of my employee!"

He scoffed "Your employee? did you know that she's a thieving piece of shit?"

"That's not relevant, let go of her and get out of my store now."

"Or else what? You'll report me? Who do you think they're gonna believe, a small bookstore manager and his criminal employee, or the greatest up-and-coming hero?" He squeezed Amanda's arm, she let out a cry of pain.

"There's a lot of people outside, and seeing you drag out a screaming woman is bound to create rumors."

I saw the thought of his reputation being damaged enter his head, and he let go of her hand. "Fine, but I'll be back. And when I come back, you'd better come quietly, or else this little bookstore might be reduced to a pile of rubble by a tragic 'accident.'" He gave Amanda a shove and then stormed out of the building.

Amanda had a fracture in her arm. I reported The Hammer to the organization that assigned heroes and villains their ranks. They told me to deal with it how I saw fit, and they'd keep press coverage to a minimum, letting me keep my C-list ranking.

Next morning, he was going to be given a mission to stop me. I was going to make a volcano erupt or something stupid, I didn't really care about the details, what mattered was that it was remote.

He arrived right on queue, wearing his full costume. I had neglected to wear mine, instead wearing my manager's uniform. The fool didn't even make the connection, and just started making fun of me. He didn't even notice the spike of stone forming until it passed through his chin. If he hadn't been so careless and overconfident, he might've stood a chance against me me, but it was going to get him, or someone else killed eventually.

His body was never found. The news story was that after stopping me, he decided he simply didn't want to be a hero. For his secret identity, he went missing on a hiking trip.

Amanda made a full recovery, and there was a small party welcoming her back. Like continued on, and there was one less villain in the world

HONK HONK “I heard there was a birthday here. A birthday where? A birthday here! I heard there was a birthday here and I’m Bobo the Clown!”

The man at the front door looked confused and angry, his muscles bulged out of his stupid little tank top and his eyes darted around furiously, scanning the space behind the clown.

“What the fuck is this, do I look like I’m having a birthday party? Who sent you?”

“I’m a special kind of clown for a special kind of boy. Here to say ‘Happy Birthday Billy’ just for you.” The clown reached out to boop him on the nose but the man grabbed his arm and twisted it hard behind his back. The clown gave a hearty chuckle and the man hesitated. “That’s not very nice, Billy.” The Clown’s arm broke off in his grip and the clown spun around to hold the man in a bear hug.

“Birthday hugs are the best hugs!”

“Who the fuck are you, what do you want?” The man dropped the fake arm.

“I want to say hello to Mr. Dangerous.” The man’s composure slipped. It only lasted a second, but it confirmed everything. The clown’s voice changed suddenly, dropping several registers.

“Oh Mr. Dangerous. You’re my hero.” His lapel flower sprayed into the man’s face and he began to scream. The clown let go and watched him collapse to the ground, the skin of his face melting into a puddle. “That’s for LaSondra. She didn’t make it out of your cute little fire.” The clown said, circling the man as he slowly melted.

“I did a little money laundering, sure. You burned my wig shop to the ground. You killed my employees. You ruined my life. You call yourself a hero?” His oversized shoe landed hard on the man’s back. A rib cracked like splintering wood.

“I’d better be careful, Mr. Dangerous. I’m acting more like a hero by the minute, wouldn’t you say?”

The man’s left arm was liquifying into a reddish brown mucous. The man was pressing a button on his shirt furiously with his one good hand, though it too was beginning to melt.

“Don’t bother.” The clown said, “the ‘super squad’ won’t be coming. But I’ll pour you into the container I’m keeping them in if you want. Well. Whatever bits of you I can scoop up.”

The man’s screaming stopped. The clown gave another chuckle and skippped his way into the kitchen.

“I heard we have a birthday here! A birthday where? A birthday here! I heard we have a birthday here and I’m Bobo the Clown!” He sang as he scooped what was left of Mr. Dangerous into a Tupperware container.

People don't work for a villain if they don't like him. I for one always made sure of that.

Holidays. You bet your arse you'll be getting them.

Childbirth. You can bet I'm gonna be that weird but cool uncle.

Having an off day. Pool party.

My company is my home. And my profession is to be a villain. Rank C. Code name Upsur.

It's fun seeing the upcoming heroes coming to my office arresting me. Thinking they finally put me down. But Legal Hero Act is a beautiful thing.

Just one simple lawsuit, I get released and compensation for the damage. Until yesterday.

Jay was supposed to be married this month. Mary wanted to surprise her parents so she wanted to leave early. Tanak's sons birthday is today. Oprius was the new intern.

All of them injured as the hero threw heymaker and threw me across the street.

Hero name, Zeus. A quite quite haughty one for a hero. He has a track record of insane collateral damage but always fights SS ranks. Not a mere C rank.

"Why?" I ask him as I dust off my clothes. His eyes showed a bit confusion.

"Why attack me?" I ask him looking directly in the eyes.

"Why not? I'm just a few villains short to make the list for most defeated villains. So I thought about cleaning the locals."

Zeus flew down. Come to think of it. I rarely saw him walking.

"You could have simply taken me to jail." I point that out.

To that Zeus gave a haughty laughter.

"Where's the fun in that?"

I smiled. He is right.

"Exactly. Where is the fun in that?"

No one knows why I am called the Upsur.

So when I threw Zeus across the city, I'm sure many would know why. But that's not the point.

"Are you having fun?"

I asked Zeus. His mangled face remained motionless.

The city was still intact. Apart for the damage he caused no further damage was done. Well except for his bones. I'm pretty sure I broke nearly all of them.

Oh well. Never could've figure what's so fun in fighting anyway.

This time it had to work. It couldn't be like that time the duct tape broke in the torture chamber, releasing the bar that kept Doctor KingKitty from morphing into her feline form and escaping. Or like the time my blaster cannon had no ammo while I finally had WhipWorm in the scope. And most certainly never like the time when I had all of the CloudWing crew trapped in a bus and hanging off the cliffside, and instead of using my extender arm to push it off, I activated the grapple instead.

The CloudWingers had to be stopped at any cost.

Ash stung my nostrils as I prowled about the ruins of my 6-12 convenience store, a business that had nothing to do with CloudWing and which they untargeted with contemptuous unfairness in an act that could be described as villainous. I'm supposed to be the villain. I had ignored them for too long, allowing them to go about telling the tallest of tales and exaggerations about their minuscule superpowers while I focused too much on the project. Oh me.

It hadn't been all that difficult to get them all on that bus. They weren't exactly the brightest superheroes ever, usually gullibly falling into whatever trap suited their fancy the most. KingKitty was had with merely a piece of catnip. WhipWorm just wanted to hide and slithered right in. MellowSnow hated heat and was forced on with nothing more than a cigarette lighter. Then the leader, the pathetic RiverRaven, was so full of their own appetite that a squirrel carcass had brought the bird faster than I could count to ten.

If only I had finished them then.

No point in crying over past opportunities. I looked over at the automorpher with glee. If only I had it complete... It would be the most perfect way to dispose of them. Plants, reduced to nothing more than ordinary garden weeds. Then, onto the rest of the superheroes. Yes, yes. I could plant them in a garden. So much fun.

I licked my lips. Time to go to work.

-----------

I couldn't help but let out a smile directed at nothing as I watched all of them get into the back of the brown van, the automorpher pointed out the window at it. This was going to be all too easy... They had fallen for the same traps that I had laid out the last time! Oh me.

Once all four were inside I called down to the security guard whom I'd paid a handsome sum and he shut the door. At once I charged the automorpher and pulled the trigger, expecting a cathartic blast of energy to rush into the van.

What came out instead was... a wisp of smoke?

That's when the gun started to feel hot. Not just hot like it'd been warmed by the sun on an afternoon, or hot like a cell phone gets when its overused. Boiling hot, enough that I was forced to drop it.

Of course, when it hit the ground a blast of energy finally did come out of it, directed at me. It didn't kill me, instead giving me these stupid petals around my face so I look like a sunflower. A loser.

<pouts>

----------------

r/StoriesToThinkAbout

“Prepare for trouble” “Make it double” “To protect the world from persistent pain” “To unite all peoples within our gang.” “To denounce the evils of villainy and strife” “To scoot the villains out of ruining life” “Scooter Red” “Scooter Blue” “Scooter Heroes ride off into the night.” “Surrender now or prepare to fight!”

“Scooter Green!”

SILENCE

I paused for a moment before I spoke, making sure the heroes’ introduction was done. I suppressed a laugh.

“I’m sorry. am I supposed to laugh, clap, or snap team rocket?”

I just decided to do all three in quick succession while the group of heroes stood looking at me with clear determination in their eyes.

Upon finishing my act, “Well if you don’t have anything else to say or do, I will take my hard earned money and leave.” I said, picking back up my duffel bags and heading to walk by the heroes straight out the front doors of the bank.

“Excuuuse me”, I commented, walking by the gang of scooter heroes, I only got so far, however.

“Stop right there!” Barked Scooter Red, She spun her razor blade scooter at violent speeds, speeds that would make any other scooter user wince in pain even at the sight of it. “Do you think we were just going to let you go? You just robbed the city bank!”

“I didn’t think at all about if you would let me go or not, I don’t care what you do.” I responded cordially, continuing to walk.

“Who do you think you are!?” Scooter Blue stopped me, putting his hand on my chest while positioning his scooter to launch at my shin & ankles at a moment’s notice. I was trapped.

“I’m glad you ask actually. Noone else in your brigade does that! Well, my name is Raúl, and as you can see, I am currently robbing a bank.
I live in the east suburban district of Santiago, and I am 31 years old. In order to make a living I commit egregious crimes, gamble, and panhandle. Two of which I’m better at than the other. On a normal day I’ll wake up at 6am beg on the streets of Santiago, and return home no later than 8pm each night. Upon my return home I grab my trench coat and small weapons to threaten and steal from other panhandlers out on the street, musicians included. With which money I’ll hit the Santiago casino and often quintuple my earnings for that day, perhaps I’m lucky. Oh, and I also own a 5 star restaurant downtown if you’d like to try it sometime. It’s called Go Lucky.” Perhaps I flipped a switch in their scooter brains, but whatever it was they instantly began to beat me senseless with their scooters.

I woke up the next day in my infirmary beneath my mansion. My ankles and shins completely bruised and In constant pain from the scooter brigade’s assault.

“Well well, if it isn’t another failed attempt at a new hobby.” Alvin, my midget butler said, rewrapping the bandages on my severely swollen ankles.

“It isn’t anything new Ivan my friend. Crime is an art, all forms of crime, including bank robbery constitute that art. I’ve been committing crimes for years. Thankfully I have you and my comrades to rely on to get me out of sticky situations like yesterday. Thank you.” I smiled at Alvin, expressing my appreciation for him somehow saving me from arrest.

“My name is Alvin, sir. You’ve known me for 12 years. Please try to remember.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry-OW!” He slapped the last wrapping of bandage on with extra vigor. “I deserved that, but one more thing Alvin, please turn on the news for me? I want to see if I made any waves with my latest crime”

The headline for channel 1 news was not to be expected, however.

SCOOTER BRIGADE RAIDS GO LUCKY. MULTIPLE CASUALTIES

I sprung out of bed onto my busted ankles and found my wheelchair. I’d been a frequent victim of the brigade’s violence during each of my crimes, so I always have one on standby.

“ALLLVINNNNNNNNNN”

Alvin rolled back into the room.
“Yes sir?”

“Please push me to the car, we must make it to my restaurant at once” “Yes sir.”

The restaurant was in shambles. The scooter brigade, a C-List hero company only due to its large number of E-list heroes, at 6,900 worldwide, had raided my restaurant. The windows were broken, walls and tables were dented, scratched, and chairs destroyed by scooters varying in size & strength.

The ambulances were loading 3 of my beautiful waitresses which I’d known for years. They were conscious but their ankles were clearly in shambles from the scooter brigade, and needed to be carted onto the ambulance. “Sally, Sammy, Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff!!! Are you three okay?”

“My name is not Sally, sir.” Quickly exclaimed Ally “I’m Amy. Not Sammy.” Spat Amy, in clear pain & frustration.

“Yes I’m doing fine, they just hit my ankles, sir!” Responded Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff.

“Good, now where have they gone?”

“That way”

They each pointed to a group of 60 men and women varying from age 16 to late forties. The full brunt of the scooter brigade in Santiago. I approached them, wheeling myself over with a passion.

“You DARE hurt my people?” I roared at the mass. A leader emerged from the pack.

“Yeah, we knew we’d find you if we showed up here. Seems we’re better at your job than you are. You’ve never even been capable of successfully stealing anything, we always catch you before you do. Thanks to anonymous tips. Poor thing, maybe you should take some notes”. He and the others snickered amongst themselves.

What he said rang true. 7 years of attempting large and small scale crimes and I’ve never successfully completed a single one.

But what they didn’t know is that the anonymous tip has always been me.

I’ve only wanted to play a fun game, commit crime without consequence on either end, with no real punishment or gain, just for pleasure’s sake. In doing so I allowed myself to get caught and beat, each an every time, relying on my comrades to help me escape at the last moment while leaving whatever I stole behind.

Look I'm a man who can handle many things...

Being listed by the World Villian League as 'Ridiculously D-Teir' because i don't personally feel the need to do more than rob banks and steal tech from labs was fair.

Having the Wrecking Crew be my assigned "Nemeses" was a hard pill to swallow but i got over it. Hell, i got used to it.

Jungle Kid's cheesey lines and speeches as the "Team Leader" even though all he instructs them to do is just "Wrecking Crew Topple 'Em" was admirable for the children.

Cheese Man's gimmick was a good laugh to my henchmen so he was good to keep him around.

Playing to Atlan's strongside of having random water puddles made the fights fun with his creativity.

And Tim... I still don't know what Tim did.

But they were always the ones who would let me get my things run away and the foil my plans last second.

They weren't Watcher who would place a tracking device, or Millennium who would just hear my plans and escort me to jail. They were simply reactionary, not on pursuit.

So when the ignorant children find out that i had my little coffee shop on the corner of 5th, and didn't do any research to see that my staff were just average people looking for jobs. BARGED IN WHILE I WAS AWAY, DESTROY THE PLACE, PUT MY STAFF IN THE HOSPITAL! Then Doctor Tinker isn't going to play nice.

Doctor Tinker is going to drop the advantages, Drop the crappy junk machines that a can be dismantled by a thrown screwdriver. Goes to their doorstep, and pardon the corny line it's a habit i need to work on, Wreck the Wrecking Crew and have their nearly lifeless bodies flowing down the Hudson River.

There simply isn't a better feeling.

Now hopefully the next time some heroes try to do the whole song and dance they're old enough to know, Don't mess with the people I care for.

Ay-Ay-Ron ☑️
^(@officialmrsens8tional)

@fenixfire_herotv isn't this that chump villain you talk about? https://op-ed.metropost.co...

> Dear Heroes, > > Yesterday, a group of superpowered thugs caused an incident at the Little-Big Cheese restaurant. After what must have been too many drinks, one of them groped their waitress before the group erupted into argument resulting in a building fire starting at their booth, a pyromancer shaped hole in the shared wall to Mr. Kim's Asian Fusion, and a half dozen shattered panes of plate glass from super-people who cannot learn to use doors. It's only due to exceptional luck that there were only two broken bones and a concussion among the fire-suppression drenched bystanders for whom you showed complete disregard. > > I'd like to think I've been very accomodating to your individual concerns. I've deferred plenty of plans in the name of sportsmanship when you had to travel for business, your boyfriend broke up with you, your brother had a health emergency, or you've just had a bad day at work. But enough is enough. Injury to bystanders and property is strictly against the oaths you swore when joining the League of Heroes. But I don't feel the need to call your regional chapter representative. Because I know how to get to all of you. > > I know your uncle still pays for your apartment. When was the last time you talked to him? A week? A month? He couldn't remember when I asked. Too busy trying to land that acting gig again? It's funny how someone so fast has no time to learn people skills. > > I know the doggy day care you send the King Charles Spaniel you named after me. Yes, I have big ears, very droll you witless harridan. I know your mother makes sure you take food home because you can't help but burn anything you try to cook. You know she asked me over tea to keep things indoor or at night because you don't wear enough sunscreen? How did you end up bereft of any of her courtesy? > > I know you have half a dozen DUI stops in the last three years that you got out of due to Mommy's connections. I know about the "best interests of the family" and the girl from college who disappeared after you proposed to her. It's not a lack of physical strength or toughness that keeps you out of the big-time superheroes, it's you. You're a cowardly, guileless never-will-be who takes out their personal problems on other people. > > I can take apart your lives if I want. This is my warning to you: Clean up or get out. > > And as for you, Sean, your only crime is having poor taste in companions. If you ever want out of the superhero business, I know some people in contract machining that could use your skill set. And hell, if that doesn't work out I could use another henchman. It's a good gig, ask any of my people--we only have 9% annual staff turnover and our health insurance has the necessary provisions for super-people. > > Sincerely,
> The Master of Whispers
> Citizen, Business Owner, Supervillain.

Meghan Metal Scuptures @meghansmetalaf

@officialmrsens8tional you're friends with these assholes? They shattered @QueenOfPuttingShots arm! She's gonna lose her scholarship!

Reggie_FPV @all4wallrideboss ☑️

.@officialmrsens8tional just gonna leave this here. 😱🤦🏻 https://youtu.be/dQw...

<Video has been removed by copyright enforcement request.>

Reggie_FPV @all4wallrideboss ☑️

.@officialmrsens8tional video re-up

<security camera video of superheroes infighting at a fondue shop>

Whispers @mrwhisperscasualvillainy (✮NEW ACCOUNT✮)

That doesn't belong to you Reggie, please remove it.

Man, comic ineptitude was fun! I just got to mess around and be overdramatic and goof off, plus I get to make a whole bunch of gizmos and gadgets with shiny red buttons on them. And I even get paid for it! What could be better!... Uh, well, I guess if I didn’t heal so well then it’d be a problem, but I do, so it’s fine.

Oh, I haven’t introduced myself. Hello! My name’s… basically impossible to pronounce, but to the super community I’m usually known as Elda. I’m one of those… whatchamacallits. What do you guys call them? Old Ones? Yeah, that’s it! Relations are a relative term when you exist in uncountable dimensions, but I know a bunch of the pop-culture ones you guys know of. And a bunch you don’t!

So, what’s metaphorically-little old me doing in the big city? Boredom, honestly. All my friends are sleeping for the next several millennia, but I’m awake because I was… well, the closest analogy you’d get is that I was born after they all fell asleep.

I went wandering and found all these little humans, and they’re really fun! Tons of them have super powers of some kind or other. So I went down and introduced myself! There was… a little bit of mixed communication and such, on account of an eldritch-to-humans being popping up, but we’re cool now!

Long, overdramatic story short, I’m a goofy supervillain now. My job is to sort of be the “small-time villain” for new superheroes to train on before they move onto the big leagues. Obviously, I’ve had a lot of practice with holding back and seeming like a near-normal person. Sure, I’ll appear out of the shadows every so often, but why wouldn’t I!? I was built for the stage! A stage that exists in like… many more dimensions than humans can perceive.

But yeah. I’m basically Dr. Doofenshmirtz. Heroes get experience, I get fun, and everyone wins!

In my spare time, I actually ran a cafe. One of the older heroes who helped me get grounded ran it in his off-time, so I helped when he wanted to do other stuff, like maybe mentoring. I ended up running the place more and more nowadays, which made me a little suspicious, but whatever. He’s a cool guy.

These heroes, though, these new ones, ooh did they make my blood boil! Hero work is supposed to be all fun and games! I have a dramatic monologue, they have some snappy one-liner about the power of friendship or whatever, I act offended or something, and then we duel with whatever is around the lair. They win some, I almost win others… It's fun that way.

But then there’s these new guys who… Hrm, what’s a good way to put it. You know how Batman is all edgy and broody? It’s kinda like that. Breaking jaws, getting to my lair hours before I’ve put the finishing touches on my super-device (aka my self-destructing machine), civilian collateral…

That last one always made me upset, way more than I thought it would when it first happened. Humans are kind of like cats. They can have little hissy fits, sometimes they are skittish, but they can be so nice! Even when they scratch you, it’s not because they hate you or anything.

These guys I wasn’t sure. They just were mean and such… for the sake of it. I asked one of them last time and they said something about their methods being “efficient.” That didn’t make any sense to me, since the definitions I knew about the word didn’t line up with their actions.

"Oh they've done it this time," I clench my fist in anger.

Ever since that night, I've never liked those who act as if they're so self-righteous, but I never really cared for this whole system up until today. It's all over the news, the almighty hero, Grandis, raided a suspected corrupt business.

"There has always been something suspicious about this business, sadly, I didn't get to meet the boss," Grandis said on the news. With that, I left the scene.

I barge into the supervillain headquarters and fill up my gears. Never having trained in the magic sector, I'm well-versed when it comes to physical fights.

"Never thought these nullifiers would come in use," I mumble to myself as I load them in.

Before leaving, I went to the archive and pull out a map under the sector "Grandis." It's a map of his whole headquarter. I take a picture of it and upload it into my watch.

"Ey, where are ya goin Dolofonos?" a fellow colleague asks as I head out.

"Grandis's headquarters," I answer shortly before leaving. I heard that same colleague trying to stop me, but by that point, the door was already closed and I have gone into the shadows.

I never take myself seriously and will mess up on purpose, but this time, I don't have any room to be my usual playful self that messes up in missions.

&#x200B;

Slipping into the headquarters, I take out a janitor and change into his uniform. I scan his face with my watch and replace mine with his, that way, no one will suspect me. I push the now out-of-it janitor's tools and act natural, it will only be a matter of time until someone finds his body or until he wakes up, until then I need to create chaos.

Suddenly, everything becomes a big commotion and staffs gets busy...ah yes, it should be about time when Grandis walks into the headquarters. I quickly bring myself upstairs and using the janitor's card I made through most of the security. Once I've gotten far enough, I abandon the tools and change back into my assassin uniform. While all of this happen, a commotion suddenly erupted in the floor below.

"Geez," I roll my eyes, putting up my mask. I look into the hallway, which is the one that can get me into Grandis's office. Just as I thought, CCTVs and motion detectors, but I don't see any traps surprisingly.

"Quite the confident hero," I tell myself as I shoot a bug into the CCTVs, causing it to malfunction long enough for me to get through.

Hacking my way through the door isn't all that difficult and once it's opened, I made my presence known.

"Well hello there," I say nonchalantly, playing around with my hand gun.

I saw one of the staff try to call the emergency button but I shot at his hand, causing him to move his hand back. I saw another one reaching for a gun then proceed to point it at me. I look at her with and shot her using a non-lethal bullet twice on the shoulder and on the head, causing her to pass out.

Then one by one, the staffs gather their weapons and point them at me.

"I was going to ask you all to just leave, but it seems like you decide to do this the hard way."

&#x200B;

"Grandis, you have another patrol in three hours but until then, please rest up in your office," the manager say as she looks at her tablet.

"Got it, I'll see you later then," Grandis waves goodbye to his manager. "These damned supervillains, causing so much trouble for heroes, bah."

Opening his office's door, he sees an unwelcomed guest.

"Why hello there, I don't remember inviting a supervillain into my office," Grandis nonchalantly says, "nor do I remember my staffs all passed out when I left."

By that point, I have finished knocking out his staffs. Normally, they would be killed but I don't have a grudge against them, it's Grandis.

"Well perhaps you should've attach more security to avoid getting uninvited guests," I twirl my dagger around, not even giving Grandis a glance.

After a short period of it, I end up looking at him, who by the way is glaring at me. I sigh and slid my dagger back into it's socket.

"Okay, I get it, you want to know why I'm here, yes?" I give him a cold look, "Long story short, you decided to raid my business and injure my innocent employees. I may be a villain, but I care about them."

"Aha! So you admit that the business is indeed corrupted," Grandis points out.

"Just because a supervillain owns it, doesn't mean it's corrupted," I sigh, "you heroes are so annoying sometimes."

Grandis hears just about enough and tries to power up, but at that moment, I raise my tranquilizer at him and shoots a nullifier, hitting him at the right spot. With that, his magic dies down.

"Wh- what...." Grandis looks at his hands confused of what just happened. I take this chance and leap across the room to smack him in the face and kick him down.

Now Grandis might be quite dependent on his magic, but he's still physically strong. Easily throwing me off, he charges at me. Although....his big and muscular body does make it easy for me to predict his movement which allows me to easily tackle him to the ground.

"You're powerless against me, Grandis," I mock him, "you're too dependent on magic that when it's taken away from you, you become pathetic."

That enrages Grandis and he gets back up to try and push me to the ground. I got out of the way and pull the trigger, causing live-ammo to pass right through his right thigh. I then proceed to pin him down and inject a paralyzer.

"I hope this becomes a lesson you'll remember Grandis," I lean down to whisper to him, "don't fuck around other people's business without launching a proper investigation."

"If you mess with my employees or colleagues, you mess with me. Remember that."

[ParaSEC Target File, Threat Level: Low]

• C-Class audiokinesis [Looping and pitch. No evidence of volume control]
• D-Class speedster abilities. [Slightly faster run speed. Potential sensory acuity - further evidence required]
• Target demonstrates propensity to use powers exclusively for show. All 'villainous' activity mundane in nature, possibly a publicity stunt. [Officially denied by all contacted PR agencies. IntOps priority low - pursue only if convenient during other activities]

[End File]

You know the problem with most villains?

Okay, trick question. There's no one problem with them, usually it's the egomania, or psychopathy, or the tunnel-vision. I used to say that they lacked flair, but some of them have a decent sense of drama with those capes. The real problem? They lack fun.

Not Jester's knife-wielding jack-in-the-box fun, but something that makes life genuinely enjoyable in itself. Sadism doesn't count. That's why I'm different, I'm not here to crush the world in my iron grasp, or to torture the world. I'm a villain for kicks.

Welcome to the world of DJ Dastardly.

Do you know how hard it is to give yourself a silly name as a villain? I had to fight months of media calling me things like 'Remix'. It's hard to scaremonger around someone with a silly name, they conveniently left out footage of my preferred moniker spraypainted everywhere for MONTHS. It was only once some kids posted it on social media that they were forced to give in. After that, I was Page 17 material at best.

I'm a heist-villain. Low level stuff- museums, science fairs, that one time I nabbed the mayor's statue at town hall. High visibility, low impact. That's my game, and my 'nemeses'... Well, let's just say the same goes for them too.

I've got a lot of respect for Eclipse Squad's PR team. It takes a creative mind to look at a human strobe light, a gothic fog machine, and a B-class telekinetic ("but DJ, she can fly!". She floats, and can make other things float. I'm shaking in my very fashionable boots) and give them some damn good branding.

So, here's the score (and believe me, I know scores)- You're somewhere public, but with oddly good acoustics. Someone takes a step, and it echoes a little bit too much. Then again. It starts looping- no one's walking anywhere, but now there's a tok-tok-tok of a 4/4 beat. I used to always have to say the name myself, but nowadays if I'm lucky someone else guesses first.

DJ-DJ-DJ-DJ-DJ D-D-D-Dastardly! (they only say it the once, the effect is all me).

From there, you're all part of the performance. Every step, noise, gasp, and laugh? It goes in the soundtrack. I'm a one-man-acapella/percussion looping pedal, and the audience? They're starting to like me. Turns out security guards find it really hard to focus when everything they do gets looped into a live performance. I'm there taking a bow at the item-du-jour, and Eclipse Squad roll in. Midnight's black fog blocks my camera angle, Moonlight tries to stun me with a flare (come on kid, I'm in a cloud of black smoke, think about it.), then Luna tries to knock me over the head with some slow-moving object. I throw them a bone "Damnit Eclipse Squad! You've foiled me again! But I'll be back for an encore!", and slip out the back.

All fun and games, honestly a great way to spend an afternoon, not to mention boost listens on my soundcloud! Until it got serious.

Turns out strobe-boy moonlights as a wannabe hacker (I'm not sorry). Tracked my IP to the little music studio I run. The one with the music program to keep delinquent kids off the streets.

They roll up in full-costume, see some kid that they'd knocked around for graffiti before and decide that this is DJ Dastardly's gang lair, and that the kids are my 'henchmen'. Eclipse Squad might be idiots, but as it turns out, when faced with blinding smoke and flashing lights, a lot of teenagers panic. Now imagine an enclosed space with a bunch of panicking teenagers who can't see.

3 concussions, one broken leg, 6 cases of PTSD. I'm just thankful Eva had detention, I don't want to know if Moonlight's power could've triggered her epilepsy.

I'm protective of my kids. They've had a bad run, and I was trying to show them a way out of the system. The injuries were one thing, but because they found a little weed on him, Jim's going back to juvie. That was the last straw.

“The Blurt.” That was my name, yeah. A comical name for an eighteen-year-old comical villain. I was the goofball that liked to do the normal, mundane type of crimes. Stealing candy from babies? Easy as can be. Destroying school property(During weekends)? That was me. Blowing up the dentist office in the middle of the night? Might have been me, who knows?

My superpower was a unique, fun one, that allowed me to manifest physical words with effects one would see an author use in a comic book, or to describe actions. Things like “Bam!” “Boom!” For attacks. Or “Slide!” And “Droop…” for mobility or defense. I especially liked doing the action whilst saying the action, such as “Lift” when I lifted something, or “Drop” when I dropped something, or - and this was my favorite one - “Autodefenestrate,” for jumping out of windows. One of my favorite words, that one was.

My real name, the one I used while in my day job, is Samson Toney. I was an intern at a comic studio, delivering drinks and food to and fro, giving my two cents to the actual comic book writers - I was a real comic lover - and overall just making everyone happy. Everyone knew I was The Blurt, but that made everything all the more better. I was the textbook goofball bad guy, and that was enough inspiration to make the comics authentic to life.

But… right now, me, my friends, the writers, my boss, were being pulled out of the rubble of the studio by firemen and the likes, after a ramshackle group of wannabe heroes, that overheard that “The Blurt’s” alter ego worked here, came around. And they broke the number one rule of Heroes and Villains: never mess with a super’s side job.

Hannah, my best friend in the whole wide world, was paralyzed from the neck down. Jerry from the pizza place down the street, who hung out to see how the newest comic was moving? His arms and legs, completely pulverized. Mr. Gabe, my boss… I can still remember the look of sheer terror on his face as that slab of roof crushed his body and the life slowly drained from his eyes. God, I can’t even sleep without seeing his face.

It took us, the very few that survived, at least three years to recover to the point we didn’t need life support, but it took only one before my state of shock was dealt with. Before my always-positive demeanor left me. Before I realized what I had to do.

And that is why I’m standing here, in front of this ramshackle hero group. Chroma, they call themselves. Color-themed “heroes.” Redwood, Orange Soda, Yell-O, Limelight, Indi-ghost, and Royal Purple. They named themselves after their respective colors and abilities. At least I was creative with mine.

Redwood could cause trees to sprout out of nowhere. Not that it could stop “Immolate” from burning him black. Orange Soda’s ability to make explosive bubbles was easily put a stop to, when I popped them all, including his lungs, with a well placed, razor sharp “Lacerate.” Yell-O tried to scream, but “Suffocate” said otherwise. Limelight’s lasers pierced his own heart when I “Deflected” them. Indi-ghost went insane as I “Deprived” her of all senses. And Royal Purple, the leader of the group, couldn’t even react before I “Disintegrated” her.

This is a reminder for all heroes starting up to never try to ruin a villain’s day job. For I am now known as the World-Level Threat, “Onomatopoeia.”

Was I too nice to them?

When that crew first rolled into the town, I could see their hearts of gold, and I admired that. You'd think that weird coming from a villain, but I was of the classical villain archetype, nothing like these modern villains who seem to only want destruction. I just see it as good fun, a good outlet for the chaotic energies within me. Who doesn't love playing the bad guy sometimes. My crimes were never harmful, and I never killed anyone. Heck, sometimes I'd shut down my own operations if they put lives in danger. I'm a supervillain, not a psychopath, we have standards. Just cause a bit of chaos, have the heroes show up, they'll do their usual spiels, we'll have a fun "fight", they'd foil my plans which were already shaky, and then I'd make my escape and swear I'll get them next time. Good times.

Maybe I should've seen this coming.

Incrediboy was the first one to show signs that those hearts of gold might not be pure. He had the ability of super strength, and normally he'd just use it to break up the flimsy bots I sent after them. During one battle, he did something else. As I was making a daring escape, he picked up a car and threw it at me. It wouldn't have hit me, but I could see it would end up hitting a bystander. The car did end up hitting me, but that was because I took the blow to save the bystander. Thanks to that, I spent a few weeks in the prison's ICU due to the car throwing my back out, but I was willing to let it slide, only it kept happening.

Where did it all go wrong?

It may have been that which lead them to taking increasingly riskier and more bold moves to capture me. I'd try to calm them down, to make it easier to foil my plans so they wouldn't resort to these drastic measures, yet they persisted. Burnout had pyrokinesis, and he used it with reckless abandon after this shift. I practically had to invent a new bot just to stop the wanton destruction that he could cause. Almost all of them would use their abilities without any regard for bystanders in order to stop me. It was ridiculous, I ended up spending more of my time figuring out how to protect the civilians from the heroes than I did fighting the heroes.

Now look what they've done.

I run a small coffee shop on the side. Well, ran. It was a quaint shop, served coffee and very nice little cakes. I enjoyed it, my reprieve from the chaos, and my employees were lovely. I think one day they figured out that this coffee shop might hold the key to my secret identity, but I hoped I would be able to divert their attention in time.

I was wrong.

When I saw the smoke, I already assumed the worse, but that didn't make it any easier. My shop was in flames, and my employees were gravely wounded, but as I watched, I noticed a girl, covered in soot, drag an employee out of the burning building, before going back in. A regular customer, and one of the heroes under my watch, Angel. Her abilities were different, as was she. She really seemed to care, and was vocal with the others about their carelessness, but his got her no respect. Wanting to help her, I dashed in, and found her trying to lift a burning beam off of my pastry chef's arm. With my help, we got him out, just before the building collapsed.

At least someone cared.

I then noticed something in her face, the red eyes and the smeared soot beneath betrayed that she'd been crying. I dreaded to think what had happened, but I asked her anyway. She'd been kicked out of the group after trying to stop them from raiding my coffee shop to find information about me. Her ability was one that was hard to abuse, the ability to heal, so she would normally help civilians whilst me and the other heroes had our "fight". Her constant complaints got her removed, and with no group, she was no longer a hero.

She may not be a hero, but I still see something in her.

Looking to my injured employees, then to the girl trying to heal them, then the remnants of my once cute coffee shop, I felt a rage burning inside of me. These heroes abuse my kindness, make me take so many precautions just to keep civilians safe, and then they go and attack innocents just to get to me. That was it, the line crossed. In my time as a supervillain, I mostly worked to prevent other supervillains appearing who may pose a threat to society, and now I had a group of heroes who might as well be supervillains, and a real hero who had been tossed aside.

That does it.

I placed my hand on Angel's shoulder, giving her a simple offer. Her friends had clearly gone over the line, but she was different, she could be more. I could teach her to be a better hero, and to lead the next group of heroes that come to this town, however there was the matter of her friends, who she agreed needed to be dealt with. With Angel by my side, I returned with her to my base. I would soon train her to be a great hero, one who values life and protects civilians, someone this city needs. First, however, there was the issue of her friends to deal with, and this time there could be no holding back. I was done playing nice with them, and with Angel by my side and with the full extent of my abilities...

We're going to make those motherfuckers pay.

=============================================================================

Just something I put together after a bit of thought. Not the best, but it is a bit late. Might give it a part 2, might not, depends really.

Hemolymph.

He was a low-powered hemokinetic, rated at D-grade due to his lack of range and inability to control the blood of others. His biggest crime was a bank robbery, where he had successfully escaped with fifty thousand dollars. Overall, not very threatening.

The Champion Trio. Three young heroes just coming into their own. A speedster, a strongwoman, and a telekinetic made up their numbers, and while all were certainly stronger than Hemolymph individually, their lack of experience made them an equal match.

Or so the world at large thought.

Hemolymph was a villain hired by the world hero organization, a trainer for new hero teams to help cultivate their strength. Hemolymph, under the name Daniel Gould, also ran The Red Cup, a coffee shop that exclusively sold drinks in blood-red cups

A coffee shop that, as Daniel could clearly see, currently stood destroyed, with it's three employees alive but injured. Joanna, the highschool girl who just wanted some spending money, was underneath what remained of the register and parts of a cabinet. Juan, the immigrant worker just trying to make ends meet, was wincing as he removed shards of window glass from his face. One of his eyes was ruined, and without a healer...

And that was ignoring Maive, who was in the worst state of them all. According to Juan, the Champion Trio had interrogated her for information on Hemolymph, and when she had stayed silent, they began to break things. First, her left wrist, courtesy of the strongwoman Brute. Then her other wrist, at the hands of Minder. After Juan had turned away, they continued, breaking her body piece by piece. It was all Daniel could do to contain the bleeding.

Thankfully, all three were alive, and with his help, would stay that way. Joanna, he excavated with the help of Juan's blood, and Juan needed no immediate help. For Maive, he kept her heart pumping, and her blood flowing. It wasn't perfect, but she would survive.

The Champion Trio received an unexpected visitor in the aftermath of their celebration. It had been a few hours since the Latino man had told them about the Red Cup's owner, their nemesis.

The best part was, they didn't even have to go looking for him! He had come right to-

Three C-ranked heroes floated, held aloft by their own blood at the hands of Hemolymph. Three Heroes found out why supers of all varieties respected the Rule.

"Do not interfere with the life behind the mask."

The next day, Daniel Gould read the news as he finished writing his after-action disciplinary report.

"3 fledgling heroes in coma at the hands of Hemolymph after breaking the Rule."

Daniel, Hemolymph, and former A-ranked villain Bloodbath sighed. Maybe it was for the best, that he had retired from supervillainy. Heroism was much better for the soul.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

&#127381; New Here? &#9999; Writing Help? &#128226; News &#128172; Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]