The Supervillainy Saga (Book 7): The Horror of Supervillainy

by Phipps, C. T.

  “Case, can you sneak me out of here?” I asked.

  “I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” Case said. “It turns out if you put on a scary mask and are a killer android, people tend to assume you’re a supervillain.”

  “Can’t imagine why,” I muttered. “We’ll get the Primal Orbs away from this place and come back with an army to take the others.”

  “Pfft!” David made a raspberry, which was another thing that he shouldn’t be able to do as a bird. “You haven’t heard Plan B yet.”

  “You’re one of the bad guys!” I snapped. “You lured me here to ambushed!”

  “Only so I could betray Diabloman!” David said.

  “What?” Diabloman said.

  “It’s all part of the plan!” David said. “The plan that can successfully turn this all around.”

  “What?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  “All of it!” David said.

  I had no idea what my fine feathered frenemy meant. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

  “Gary, don’t listen to the bird,” Case said, warning me with sensible advice I was bound to ignore. “I can just shoot him now. It’ll be like Duck Hunt.”

  “Duck Hunt?” I asked. “How old do you think I am?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure,” Case said. “What with the time compression thing that is a real thing in your world.”

  “Yeah, we can fix that too,” David said. “The Big Ass Time Disaster may be fake but that doesn’t mean you getting the Primal Orbs isn’t a worthwhile goal by itself. It’s why I arranged all this.”

  “Wait, you weren’t kidding about the bird being your master?” I asked Diabloman.

  “It’s complicated,” Diabloman said. “He is actually—”

  “Shh!” David said. “Spoilers!”

  “Yes, master,” Diabloman said.

  “Gary, this is your Rocky moment!” David said.

  “Where I lose but win the public’s approval?” I asked.

  “This is your Rocky 2 moment!” David corrected.

  “Where I’m an unnecessary sequel made for more money,” I said. “Technically, I think we may be Rocky IV if we’re counting my biographies. Those ran out of steam awhile back. Really, we should have stopped with The Science of Supervillainy.”

  “Hush, they’re still entertaining,” Case reassured me. “Besides, The Tournament of Supervillainy is when I show up.”

  “Exactly. Nah, I’m just kidding. I’ve always had plans for at least twelve books,” I said, turning back to David. “I’m listening, Corvidhead.”

  “Weak insult,” David said. “You’ve been trying to be a superhero for a long time, Gary. You’ve failed miserably because you need a big win. Something so uncontestably great that no one will ever doubt you again.”

  “I’ve saved the universe,” I replied, listening more closely than was probably healthy. “Twice.”

  “Who hasn’t?” David asked. “I think Mr. Tiny and Gorilla Steve have saved the universe. Imagine, however, you are getting all the Primal Orbs in a castle filled with all the archvillains. Diabloman has gotten some truly heavy hitters upstairs. The real world-beaters. Imagine if you can make them all disappear with a snap.”

  “This is totally a rip off of Avengers: Endgame and Spider-Man: Far from Home,” Case muttered.

  “I really need to see those movies,” I said, sighing.

  David pointed at me with his wing. “The Age of Superheroes will end with a bang not a whimper. No more world-threats, just petty criminals and a better, safer world for your children. You will go down in history as the greatest hero who ever lived. Even bigger than Ultragod and the Nightwalker combined. Maybe you can cure cancer or end world hunger as an encore. The possibilities are endless.”

  I stared at him, examining all the angles. Diabloman didn’t respond but just stood there, showing he really was under David’s control. How the mighty had fallen. Maybe he just wasn’t comfortable making his own decisions anymore.

  “Gary—” Case started to speak.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m in.”

  I was terrible at this superhero thing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Exploring Castle Dracula’s Mini-Map

  I hummed the Stonecutters theme from The Simpsons while walking down the halls with Diabloman and Case. David flew above my head and I kept a watch out for the bird crapping on me since I was stupidly following his lead for reasons I didn’t entirely understand. He just had a way of making the surreal sound sensible. I wondered if that was how people reacted to me.

  “I’m still weirded out you have that show on this world,” Case muttered. “Not even a volcanic eruption could get it canceled on my world.”

  “Yes, but is Bartman a superhero on your world?” I asked. “He was a great inspiration for my supervillainous persona.”

  Case stared at me. “My God, it explains so much.”

  “Don’t have a cow man,” I replied.

  “You have a wonderful way of making mundane things horrifying,” Case said.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  The interior of Dracula’s castle was less impressive than I’d expected, and kind of disappointing overall. I was hoping for something akin to full-on Castlevania: Symphony of the Night with an upside-down castle resting on top of the regular castle as well as every sort of monster imaginable. Instead, the place kind of felt like an upper-class Romanian hotel.

  The place was heavily carpeted with the expected reds and blacks. The walls were covered in lots of portraits of old generals and vampires. We passed a werewolf French maid who was vacuuming the place with pointed ears and cute fangs. It was such an incongruous image, I actually chuckled to myself.

  “Are you really sure this is a good idea, Gary?” Case asked.

  “Absolutely not,” I replied. “In fact, I am fairly sure this is a terrible idea. However, if I don’t get the other Primal Orbs back from these guys then we’re going to end up with villains that are going to unleash their power on our third rock from the sun. If any of these baddies are an actual wizard and not a complete chucklehead like me—”

  “They are,” Diabloman interrupted.

  “Then who knows what they’ve already been able to do,” I replied. “I’ve created an entire alternate magical system.”

  “That was you?” Diabloman asked. “You know that nerds across the world are unleashing lightning bolts and mind-controlled orcs on their enemies.”

  “Orcs that they mind-controlled or conjured magical constructs?” I asked.

  “Magical constructs,” Diabloman said. “Why does it matter?”

  “Yeah, I don’t support mind control,” I said. “I refused to make Charm Person spells or Suggestion real. Because we know what the worst kind of nerds would use those for. Fanboys and girls would be keeping their celebrity slaves everywhere.”

  “Well, that got dark quickly,” Case muttered. “So, you trust them with the power to throw fireballs but not control minds?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Just say no to mind control. Not even once. Death magic is fine, though.”

  Case looked like he was getting a headache. “The sad fact is, I actually understand the basics of that moral system.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Just for that, when you die, I’m going to upload you into the Merciless Mobile and we can fight crime like Knight Rider.”

  “Wait what?” Case asked.

  “Sorry, just seeing if you were paying attention,” I said. “Though I totally would have you as my crime-fighting car. Wait, is that bigoted against robots? Roboticist?”

  Case stared at me. “You’re a sick man, Gary.”

  “Thank you, times two,” I said. “So, Diabloman, where do we stand?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Diabloman asked. “I was attempting to tune out your inane patter.”

  “That’s an exercise in futility,” David said. “One of the qualities I admire and despise both in Merciless is his b
eing a human word salad. Imagine if instead of Merciless, he’d gone with the name Nonsequitor or Pop Culture Reference.”

  “That would be both more accurate and a heavy theme to play into,” I replied. “I’d probably need powers related to referencing things versus just making quips like Splotch. But you didn’t answer my question, D.”

  “Are you suggesting that we put aside the fact I tried to kill you and you sent my sister to Hell?” Diabloman asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “No,” Diabloman said. “Not because I hate you, though a part of me still does, but because I know that I am a monster who has no place in the lives of a family. You have forged a family around yourself and that is something I cannot be a part of.”

  “Your wife and child love you,” I said. “I know both of them. Your daughter’s a little weird but—”

  “My wife divorced me,” Diabloman said. “When I told her my plans of revenge, she said that I was insane and betraying someone who had shown me compassion when no one else would. I told her that she could choose you or me. She chose to leave with our child and used santeria to bind it so I could find neither of them.”

  “Ouch,” I said. “That would make me more determined to kill me. Wait, you. Okay, I’ve lost the pronoun somewhere.”

  “Si,” Diabloman said, sighing. “It was the end of a long period of rebuilding. She had become accustomed to me trying to be a better person. Backsliding, it turned out, was worse than the lowest point.”

  “I’ll talk to her,” I said.

  Diabloman stopped and clenched his fists. “It is not your place to clean up after my mistakes.”

  I stared at him. “No. I thought you were my brother, though. That you are my family. I’m willing to forgive and forget but take that swing and you will regret it.”

  Diabloman did. He blinked and found himself covered in bright yellow sharpie doodles of Hello Kitty. I avoided drawing genitalia because I wasn’t fourteen anymore. I was at least fifteen at heart. Diabloman stared as I was a foot away from his fist. “How?”

  Honestly, I had no idea. Whether I’d given myself super-speed, magically transformed Diabloman’s outfit, or stopped time was something my conscious brain was unaware of. One of the funny things about speedsters is they’re not actually that good at what they do. The human brain can only function at the speed of thought so plenty of them get taken over by their powers or slow time down so they can do everything at a regular pace for themselves. In this case, I’d used my cosmic abilities for the equivalent of a freshman college prank. No regrets!

  “Okay, that was impressive,” David said. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

  “Chaos Orb,” I said, simply. “As long as I have it and the others, I’m pretty awesome.”

  “Which is why I’m going to steal them,” David said.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Sorry, huh?” David asked. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “No, I heard you say you were going to steal them,” I said, staring at the bird. “I just wondered why you would admit that aloud.”

  “Drama,” David replied. “Also, Diabloman, you look adorable.”

  Diabloman proceeded to throw up his hands and release a torrent of curses in Spanish which were, honestly, mostly the same ones used in English. It was just done in a Spanish sort of way. You had to hear him to understand. Still, I’d clearly gotten on his last neve. I was good at that.

  “Is it wise to taunt him like this?” Case asked.

  “It’s not wise to taunt any supervillain but plenty of people do it,” I replied. “Besides, Splotch is gone so someone has to pick up the pace.”

  “You are no Splotch,” David said, sounding surprisingly serious.

  “No, no I’m not,” I said, looking up. “Which is another reason I’m doing this.”

  It was another spectacularly bad idea I was having but I wanted to see how these archvillains were progressing in trying to get around the ban on people staying dead. I was the Chosen of Death and I’d understood Mandy as well as Lancel’s arguments that the fallen should be allowed to rest in peace. However, the simple fact was that I regretted every single day since I’d made that decision. If the bad guys wanted to put an end the ban, then I was willing to hear them out.

  Was it selfish? Hell yes. Did it potentially contradict all my progress as a so-called superhero? Probably. However, this world benefited more from having Ultragod and the Nightwalker than it did to suffer from all the evils that I’d extinguished over the years. I’d gladly trade a return of the Ice Scream Man, Typewriter, and even frigging Tom Terror if it meant one of them would come back. I could always kill them again after all.

  How much of this was due to my encounter with the seemingly restored Mandy back at Camp Blood? Probably a lot, to be honest. She seemed close enough to my memories of her that it was like having her back. A little more antihero-ish but not a psychotic monster either. The smarter part of my brain noted that probably meant it was a trick of some kind.

  Walking down the hallways, we passed the laboratories Case had mentioned earlier. There were all the clones of superheroes and villains inside, ready to be released on the Society if they defeated the current bunch. There were more Nightwalkers, Ultragods, Tom Terrors, and other horrors floating in green fluid while lab coated mad scientists worked on them. I recognized a few of them like Doctor Yes’ daughter Doctor Maybe, Professor Bedlam, the Clonemaster, the Electrician, and Shiro Roboto who was more someone you called mister before thanking. Yes, that was a Styx reference and I know Austin Powers already did that joke. None of them were top tier but all of them had respectable careers perverting natural philosophy to their own ends. There was also another supervillain I recognized among their ranks that I found myself disappointed to see among the baddies here.

  Nicky Tesla waved at me from behind one of the control panels. “Hi, Gary!”

  Nicky Tesla was an above-average looking, dark haired woman with large glasses, brown hair, and a perpetual lab coat on over regular work attire. She also sported a bunch of metal tentacles coming out of her back that had briefly given her the name Professor Hydra. She was a former henchman of mine and the first of the “cracks” in the resurrection rule. She’d been murdered by Merciful during the early days of President Omega’s plans to kill all Supers.

  Nicky hadn’t come back from the dead, not really, but had taken advantage of the Diet Coke of immortality in brain uploading. The original Nicky was still dead, but her successor was walking around in an android body that had all the same memories as well as personality.

  Nicky hadn’t hesitated to add some “improvements” to her body as we all would if we could but I wasn’t about to bring attention to them. The only former employee of mine that I sexualized was Cindy and I swear that sounded less creepy before I thought it out completely.

  I hadn’t seen her in a year, and it was quite shocking to see her doing evil science for the bad guys. She was only supposed to be doing evil science for me. Which, admittedly, I no longer had much need for since I’d joined the side of angels.

  I pointed at her. “This is not cool!”

  “You weren’t hiring since you became a superhero!” Nicky defended herself.

  I paused. “Good point.”

  “Is it?” Case asked. “Is it really?”

  “Agent G!” Nicky said, flirtatiously. “If you let me take you apart, I’ll show you my special attachments.”

  Case looked at her sideways. “I’ll pass.”

  “Really? You don’t know what you’re missing,” Nicky said. “I have the hour-long orgasm program for both male and female androids.”

  Case opened his mouth then closed it, clearly not sure how to respond.

  “This is why the end of humanity will not come with the bang of nuclear warfare but the whimper of the holodeck’s invention,” I replied. “Humanity will go inside and never come out.”

  “That’s actually how Rossom’s Universal Robots ends,” Cas
e said, referring to the first story about robots from 1921. “Humanity stops breeding because they all have sexbots.”

  “And here I thought that was a parable about communism,” I replied.

  “Don’t worry, Gary,” Nicky said. “When the Robot Uprising happens, you will be among those spared and allowed to live out your days in peace as we exterminate the other biologicals.”

  “Not unless you can kill John Connor,” I replied, fairly sure she was kidding.

  “Skynet is a moron,” Nicky said. “Kill him when you know when and where he is. Then again, who am I to judge? He’s pretty badass for a computer made in the Eighties. The guy is making complex world domination schemes on floppy disc and magnetic tape.”

  “Can we get back to the meeting?” Diabloman asked. “Please return to your work, Doctor Tesla.”

  “Just so you know, these things are fully capable of killing the Society of Superheroes. Are you sure actually want to make more of them?” Niki asked.

  Diabloman stared at me. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Weren’t you the guy who said that it was a terrible idea to kill superheroes?” Niki asked.

  Diabloman didn’t respond for a moment. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “This isn’t one of those midlife villain suicide things is it?” I asked.

  Diabloman looked at me sideways. “I have longed to ask you this, Merciless. Do you have undiagnosed ADHD or are you simply easily amused?”

  “Who says it’s undiagnosed?” I asked, getting a sense of déjà vu.

  “See ya, Nikki,” I said, turning around. “Don’t cross any lines you can’t uncross.”

  “You mean like preventing me from resurrecting the dead?” Nikki asked. “I used to have a thriving business in that!”

  “Everyone remembers that!” I said, walking off. “What about my other accomplishments?”

  “What other accomplishments?” Nikki called behind me.

  I gave her the bird without looking back. “I swear, abandon your henchmen for a year and they get all up in your business.”

  “Shame,” Case said.

  We also passed another scientific monstrosity that made me take back everything I said about this place resembling a hotel. It was an automated robot factory that was manufacturing duplicates of the Society of Superheroes Dark. I saw, indeed, Mindy and the other members flopped over like dolls tossed in a corner.