by C. T. Phipps
A resounding cheer followed seconds later as the doors to the Minor Supervillains Ward opened up, hundreds more supervillains poured in to join us. Their guards there hadn’t been able to offer much resistance either.
“Kill them all!” A Ted Bundy-looking fellow said. Hell, he might have been Ted Bundy for all I knew.
Not all of the supervillains around me looked comfortable with this train of thought but most did. Enough that I pitied the Society of Superheroes. There were more people than the Society of Superheroes up here, including guards and scientists.
It was going to be a massacre.
“Perhaps not. I’m starting to see the method in Tom’s madness.”
“Care to fill me in?”
“Not yet. Just do whatever Tom says for the time being, unless it involves killing innocents.”
“I liked it better when you called me Master.”
“Do whatever Tom says for the time being, unless it involves killing innocents, Master.”
Seconds later, Tom floated down and started directing the various other archvillains to take teams to different parts of the moon base. After a few minutes, it was only me and a number of other hand chosen goons. These chosen goons were not the supervillains I’d imagined becoming like. Down to a man, they were all psychopaths.
“Good,” Tom said. “Those imbeciles I just speech-ified should provide us a suitable distraction. If they don’t, the other archvillains should at least keep the Society’s attention.”
“Pardon?” I did a double take.
“Contrary to my stated opinion.” Tom paused. “The Society of Superheroes is not composed of idiots. There’s no way to shut off the powers of the Metamen here but they disarmed the technology-based criminals and suppressed the power of those who draw their energy from magical forces.”
“Such as me.”
“Such as you, yes. The Society is going to tear through the majority of those fools like wet tissue paper. A pity superheroes don’t kill, a great number of those criminals have no place in my New World Order.”
“I know the feeling,” I replied, thinking my first act as world dictator would be to execute Tom and the majority of the psychos here. “So, you freed them to get their butts kicked?”
“Yes, in addition to killing any civilians in the area. Slaying the so-called innocent inflicts mental damage on superheroes which I find superior to physical damage, nine times out of ten. Rule Number One and all.”
“Damn, those are actually rules?” I asked, stunned. “I thought they were just something Diabloman made up.”
“More like guidelines.” Tom revealed he’d seen the pirate movies. So much for his ‘only intellectual stuff’ plans for Earth.
“The actual super-powered inmates, plus those I’ve picked for their skills or other qualities, will pursue the important part of my plan. Specifically, guaranteeing my escape. If they succeed in this, they will be given a substantial reward for their services. You, Merciless, will have the most important mission of them all. If you accomplish it, you will be given Australia when I take over the world.”
“Why Australia?”
“It’s about as close to America as you can get without actually having it.”
“I know plenty of Australian Superheroes who’d be insulted by that comparison. Supervillains, too.”
I rolled my eyes, wondering how Cloak could stay calm. A second later it hit me the Nightwalker had been in thousands of these situations.
“It’s your mission to secure the teleporter and bring me the Power Nullifier in Ultragod’s quarters. Once I have it, I will possess the power to become every bit as powerful as Ultragod permanently. It’s why I allowed myself to be captured,” Tom said, his presence darkening the room. I was in the presence of a genuine evil genius.
I was starting to realize why so many people used the ‘you’re insane’ statement to supervillains. “Why me?”
Tom smiled, his teeth looked like those of a shark. “Like I said, you strike me as the kind of person who can be trusted. People who can be trusted have families, friends, and loved ones.”
“Uh-huh.” I could see where this was going.
“So, it’s simple. If you betray me in any way, I’ll hunt down your wife or parents or whomever you care about and turn them into chopped liver. Literally. I’ll turn them into pieces of liver before chopping them up. I haven’t used my transmogrifier in years.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“Merciless.... Gary...” Cloak trailed off.
“Don’t worry, Cloak. All he’s done is piss me off. No one threatens my family,” I said back to him.
“Any questions?” Tom Terror asked.
“Tell me how to get to the teleporter,” I replied, smiling. “I’ll take care of you. Honest.”
“Not quite yet.” Tom made a tsk-tsk noise. “While I expect you’ll do what I want you to do, I’m going to equip you with some henchmen to carry out this mission. After all, without your powers, you’re just a man. I can’t leave you unguarded.”
It was in that moment I decided Tom Terror was worse than Jack the Ripper, Ed Gein, and a dozen other mass murderers put together. Not only was he a multiple murderer, he was smug about it. “Who are you sending with me?”
Tom gestured over to one of the few remaining supervillains, a man who had somehow managed to get his costume back. It was form-hugging black and white spandex with a big dartboard centered on the man’s chest. His entire face was covered but for his mouth and chin, which were plastered with a psychotic smile.
“Howdy! I’m Psychoslinger,” the man proclaimed.
“I know who you are.” I felt sick just being in the man’s presence.
Psychoslinger smiled, pulling on his costume like it was a pair of suspenders. “Gee, thanks, I feel so flattered! An actual archvillain knows who I am.”
“Yeah, well what you did to that daycare center was all over the news.” I struggled to smile despite my loathing. If I had my powers, I would’ve burned Psychoslinger to death and scattered the ashes. He was the type of guy you drove a stake through the heart of to make sure they didn’t rise from the grave. Of course, given what happened with the Ice Cream Man that may just be practical.
Tom Terror stood between us. “I wanted to pair you with Mister Chaos but he’s already killed two supervillains and fed a guard his own tongue. So, I suspect he’s not going to be available for team-ups any time soon. Psychoslinger is the best substitute I could find.”
Psychoslinger produced a psychic knife in the air, balancing it on the end of his index finger. “I want you to know, I normally don’t kill kids.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I said, still sickened.
“I prefer to kill women. I’ve got a mark on my body for every filly I did. I may need to find a new way to keep score, though, because I’m running out of room.”
“As a superhero, I wasn’t allowed to kill people but I wanted to kill this one.”
“Say no more.”
“Y’all ever been to Texas? That’s where I operate. Maybe we could have a team-up. I bet we could kill twice as many people as I could alone!” Psychoslinger began juggling his psychic knives.
Chapter Eighteen
Where I Deal with My New Partner
Psychoslinger and I were walking down the now-deserted cell blocks of the prison level. Our directions from Tom Terror were irritatingly precise, highlighting how we could best take advantage of the breakout.
I had no intention of living up to my end of the bargain, of course.
I intended to find the teleporter, figure out how to use it, and get myself off this rock. All I had to do was put up with Psychoslinger’s insane commentary until then.
“I’ve never killed anyone famous before. Sometimes, though, I consider trying to kill the President. The problem is he’s guarded by a lot of very scary people. A lot of them have superpowers. Someone tried to kill President Kennedy in Dallas, you know. The Golden Lightning caught the bu
llet, though, jerk.”
“This is hell,” I muttered.
“I’ve been to hell. This isn’t even close.”
“Have you ever considered what it would be like to kill everyone in the world?” Psychoslinger said. “I have. I’d need superspeed for it, though. That way I could kill everyone individually.”
“Alright, it’s close.”
“I can’t say I have.”
“Either that or invulnerability. If I had invulnerability I could take my time killing everyone. So, between the two, I’d have to choose invulnerability but I wish I had both,” Psychoslinger said, making a psychic mace as he walked. He turned it into a machete and created a second one, spinning the two blades like he was a human fan. Psychoslinger made his blade work look effortless, making me all the more uncomfortable with his close proximity.
“Okay, I need to kill this guy. I don’t care what it takes. Tell me how and I’ll do it,” I said to Cloak.
“In order to defeat Psychoslinger, you need to understand his motivations. Psychopaths are different from sociopaths, however.”
“How so?” I thought to him.
“Sociopaths often have some form of ethical code they abide by,” Cloak said. “It’s just unique to them, like you and yours.”
“Thanks,” I replied, rubbing my temples. “I think.”
“Psychopaths are, dumbing down the psychology involved, unfettered. Given you can’t defeat Psychoslinger without your powers, the best option for defeating him is figuring out what Tom Terror is using to control him. I have a number of suggestions for how we can deduce it.”
“Hey, Psychoslinger, what does Tom Terror have on you?”
“I suppose you could do that too.”
“Oh, not much. He said he’d help me kill Albuquerque.”
I was unsure how to react. “Is that a life-long ambition?”
“Yep!” He said. “How about you?”
“No. I can’t say I ever dreamed about killing a major populated area.”
“Not even Delaware?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
I said to Cloak, “I don’t think we’re going to get an advantage from psychoanalyzing this guy.”
“Neither do I.”
Still thinking at Cloak, I asked, “Is there any way I can get my powers back? I mean, I seriously want to kill this guy. I don’t have an issue with killing people but this guy is the first guy I’ve wanted to murder.”
“No way that I know of. The spells were designed to guard against, well, villains like you using them.”
“Dammit.” I grit my teeth.
“Something wrong?” Psychoslinger asked, his voice unsettling due to its cheerfulness.
“Nothing, I’m having an argument with the voices in my head,” I replied, getting sick of that excuse.
“I have that problem too!” Psychoslinger slapped me on the back.
Seeing a nearby fire extinguisher, I decided to reach for it and bash in Psychoslinger’s brains. Picking it up, I had it knocked out of my hands by a sun-shaped shuriken. The tiny little flying disc released a blinding flash of light which caused me to drop it against the ground.
“What the hell?” I asked, turning around.
“Halt evil doer!” Sunlight lifted another shuriken. “You are under arrest by the authority of senior Society of Superheroes member Sunlight!”
“Man, I hate killing old people,” Psychoslinger said, frowning. “They go down so easy. Worse, he’s a dude! Dudes are no fun to kill! They do a whole different type of screaming!”
“Wait.” Sunlight pointed at me. “You!”
“How the hell did you get here?” I was flat-out confused by his presence.
“Teleporter.” Sunlight pulled out another of his shurikens. “I recognize your cloak now! You must be the supervillain who killed the Nightwalker!”
I almost shouted. “You fucking sent me the cloak in the first place!”
“You did?” Psychoslinger said. “Awesome!”
“No!”
“Obviously,” Cloak said, indignant. “I died of an aneurysm. Even at a hundred and ten, I was sharp enough not to be taken down by the likes of you.”
I would have made a rebuttal to Cloak if not for the absurdity of the situation.
“Fiend!” Sunlight said, catching his returning weapon. “Prepare to be smote, old school style!”
“Old school is right. Sixty-five year old men should not be wearing tights!” I did not have time for this bullshit.
I wasn’t afraid of Sunlight. I was afraid Psychoslinger would kill him and I’d be blamed for it. Could you imagine what that would do to my rep? Killing the Extreme was one thing, people would respect that. Killing Sunlight would label me as a murderer of eccentric elderly superheroes.
“You’re all heart.”
“I know,” I thought back.
Psychoslinger had already conjured two psychic knives to throw into his face by the time I realized I needed to keep the crazed former sidekick alive.
Seeing no alternative, I charged at Sunlight, yelling. “Mercy is for the weak!”
“Is that your battle cry? If so, it needs work,” Cloak said.
“Do you ever shut up?” I ducked and dodged Sunlight’s shurikens. He was tossing two or three at a time now. Each one caused a blinding flash of light when they hit the wall, which made it hard to dodge the next one.
“I confess, since dying you’ve been my one source of entertainment. Try not to kill my grandnephew.”
Taken aback by my charge, Sunlight failed to dodge. As a result, I smashed him into the wall behind us with all the force I could muster.
“Ooomph!” Sunlight said, grunting. “It’ll take more than that to put down—”
I interrupted him with a punch to the face. He somersaulted over me and jump kicked me in the head. Even at sixty-five years old, Sunlight had a bunch of kick. No pun intended. Then again, so did I. Kneeing the man in the stomach, I dropped him long enough to start strangling him with my cape. After he stopped struggling, I threw him against the wall and tried to figure out a way to render him insensible. Spotting Sunlight’s utility belt, I pulled some rope from it and started tying him up.
“You won’t believe me, but this is for your own good,” I whispered in his ear.
“Thank you. I appreciate you doing this. As exasperating as Robert could be, he is still family.”
“I’m doing this for Mandy and my reputation, not you,” I muttered under my breath. “This guy has about exhausted my non-existent mercy.”
“Varlet!” Sunlight howled, showing he was still conscious. He wasn’t able to do anything other than a shake a fist in my general direction, though. “I’ll get out of these bonds and hunt you to the ends of the Earth.”
“Yeah. You do that. A little help here, Cloak?”
“Take the third capsule on the utility belt from the buckle and break it front of his face. That’s the Solar Sleeping Gas. Don’t use the second capsule. That’s the Solar Happiness Gas.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
“I didn’t name them!”
Grabbing the third capsule, I cracked it open underneath Sunlight’s nose, a purple mist pouring out of the capsule. Sunlight passed out, a good thing since he’d already started slipping out of my crude bonds.
“Hey, no kill-stealing!” Psychoslinger shouted, running up behind us. Seeing Sunlight was alive, the psychopath took his knives and started grinding them against one another. “Ooooo, a tied up superhero. This should be fun!”
I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how to prevent Psychoslinger from killing him. The problem was that it was a bit like keeping a dog from barking. “Yeah, bound and gagged superheroes are pretty damned fun. Sadly, we can’t kill him.”
“What, why?”
I blathered out the first thing which came to mind, “Because of Rule Number One!”
“Rule Number One?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s in the by
-laws for the Fraternity of Supervillains.”
“Again…why?”
“So, uh, we can get more fights in the long run,” I said, trying to think of a reason he’d accept. “Up the pay-per-view rights price.”
“Oh!” Psychoslinger said, a figurative light bulb popping on above his head. “I get it. We get more press this way!”
I was stunned this was working. “You catch on quick.”
“You’re like my supervillain mentor!” Psychoslinger said, extending his hands to embrace me.
“Never say that again.” I walked past him on down the hall. “Ever.”
“I can’t believe that worked.”
“Me either.”
Psychoslinger trailed up behind me, a big grin on his face. It was a bit like having a murderous puppy adopt you.
“In any case, I think I can keep this guy from killing anyone else,” I thought to Cloak. “All I need to do is make up rules that he has to follow. It’s a long shot, but I think I can pull it off. If I work hard, maybe I won’t end up with a hundred murders tagged to my record.”
“Hey look!” Psychoslinger said, pointing to two guards coming around the corner. They were wearing suits of scaled-down power armor similar to the kind worn by the Prismatic Commando. In their hands were a set of electrical-shock prods, the variable settings on them ranging from knocking out a full-sized normal human being to putting down a super-powered elephant. They also had laser-pistols on their chests and energy shields on their backs. I imagined they were Foundation for World Harmony trained and probably capable of kicking my ass every which way from Sunday. I didn’t think they would be too happy about my escape and searched for a way to talk my way out of this or fool them.
Before I could react, Psychoslinger hurled two psychic daggers through their helmets, killing them instantly. Their armor should have contained defenses against psionic attacks as well as being composed of reinforced steel. It meant Psychoslinger was packing a lot more punch than I’d initially surmised. It also meant I was now an accessory to murdering two innocent guards.
Great.
“Look at that,” Psychoslinger said, laughing. “A pair of hole-y guards!”
