SUPERPOWERED: Are YOU a Superhero or Supervillain? (Click Your Poison Book 3)

by James Schannep

  * * *

  That night Nick tinkers with his killer robot like a man possessed. You sit nearby, watching the newsfeeds while the supergenius works his magic. The doctored casino footage plays on every major network at the top of every hour, followed by the police battle that later ensued when Diamond “returned” to the scene of the crime.

  The screen shows her rush in, ready to save the day, only to receive a hail of gunfire for her troubles. She swats the air around her head like she was warding off a cloud of gnats.

  When the tear gas comes in, she gets angry. Catherine flings a parked car onto a police cruiser before bounding away with a roar.

  Reporter Alison Argyle returns on screen to warn the public that the one-time “Supa-gurl” is extremely dangerous and to be avoided. Witnesses should call Mercury PD from the safety of cover. Citizens are urged to stay indoors until the military arrives to deal with the threat.

  Now, the moment Nick’s been waiting for, the mayor holds a press-conference. Behind his silver-framed glasses, weariness appears deep in the man’s eyes. Mayor Argyle has the stiff upper lip of a politician in crisis and he stands still at the podium, allowing the gravity of the moment to speak for itself before he addresses the gathered public.

  “People of Mercury City, I urge you to remain calm while the facts are gathered. This alleged act of violence is nothing short of tragic, but rest assured that we will get to the bottom of it and justice will be swift. For the families of the victims—”

  Nick mutes the television.

  “Goddamned politicians! We’ve got a supervillain on the loose with ironclad evidence and still he uses the term ‘alleged’? No matter. We’ll simply have to force phase two upon him.”

  “Phase two?” you ask.

  “We’ve got the police against Catherine, but we need the whole city against her. She has far too much goodwill built up. We need the Mayor to condemn ‘Supa-gurl’ completely before we step in and save the day. You’re going to ask how—I’ll save you the trouble. Mayor Argyle’s daughter: Mercury City royalty, none other than reporter Alison Argyle. She spoke out against Catherine tonight, so we send our Catherine to kill her. We make Doomsday personal.”

  Nick powers up the robot, which rises from the workbench and awaits the supergenius’ commands. “Doomsday Device: Activate Mirror Entity Protocol,” he says.

  A holographic projection system blazes to life from inside the machine, transforming the visage before you from a killer robot to Catherine Woodall in her Diamond costume, just as real as if she were standing before you in the flesh.

  “Acquire target,” Nick says, pointing to the news screen. “Reporter Alison Argyle.”

  In a perfect mimic of Catherine’s voice, Doomsday says, “Target confirmed: Reporter Alison Argyle. Maximum Collateral Damage Provision: Enabled.”

  Then Nick turns to you and says, “I need to rig the final trap while the Doomsday Device goes on a rampage. We’re almost finished, my friend. Everything is going according to plan!”

  • “I’ll help you rig the trap. We can’t afford any unnecessary complications.”

  • “I’ll go with Doomsday. We must ensure the reporter dies. The mayor will forever be in our debt if we avenge his daughter’s death.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Doppelgangers

  So where’s the one place no one would ever look for you? Perhaps somewhere from childhood? Having grown up inland, away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Mercury City, you have a spot no one else knows about. If your parents knew how much time you spent in a cavern—your own fortress of solitude—they’d have forbidden it, so you never told another soul.

  But what was once a magical place as a child is now foreboding when you return as an adult. Everything you remember as warm and bright has grown dark and cold. When you pass through the fallen tree and into the mouth of the cavern, you find the remains of an ancient campfire.

  From the pile of small mammal and bird bones nearby, the trespasser clearly stayed for quite some time, though there is no evidence of the hermit now. Doesn’t matter, you’ll only be here a short time. Just until things blow over in the city.

  * * *

  You awaken with a start from some terrible nightmare, though the memory eludes you. The campfire has all but died; only embers remain now. The cavern is bitterly cold in the dark of night, and you’re considering throwing a few more logs on the fire when it begins to pulse and glow on its own. Pine needles and ash kick up in response to this new energy and you suddenly find yourself more terrified than ever.

  The air shimmers above the fire pit. Not the shimmering that comes from heat waves, but more a distortion of reality. In fact, at the center of the shimmer, you see a seam start to open—a seam in the very fabric of existence. In the blink of an eye, this small seam expands to a portal ten feet high and six feet wide, with ethereal purple light shining through into your sylvan darkness.

  Then a woman steps through the gate and into your universe.

  Amazingly, it’s Catherine Woodall, the woman from the experiment—or at least someone who looks exactly like her. This version wears zippered black leather from head to toe, covering everything except her head and her bare left arm with some kind of techno-gauntlet on the forearm. Her right shoulder has thick steel spikes protruding from it. She wears a black cape and carries a massive, futuristic rifle.

  “Rock, Paper, or Scissors?” she asks.

  “Wh—what?”

  “In this universe, which pod did you choose?” she replies, as if the question were perfectly ordinary. “The version of you that created these doorways chose paper, as did I, where I come from.”

  “Version of me?” you parrot back, still stupefied by what’s happening.

  As if in answer, Nick Dorian floats through the portal, flying up near the ceiling of the cavern as he enters. “Scissors…” you say in a daze.

  “Good. We’ve been looking for one of you,” Catherine says.

  Then you step out of the portal. Your doppelganger is slightly taller than you, athletic and muscular. It’s what you’d look like if you were an Olympian in peak physical condition, but there’s a fierce intelligence in those eyes. You wave hello to yourself.

  “Where’s the rest of your team?” the other-you asks.

  “I—we didn’t…” you reply, still in shock.

  “Why does that keep happening?” says Catherine with a sigh.

  “I’d say it’s because given the infinite eventualities, going our separate ways seems the most likely form of entropy,” says the you from the other universe.

  “I understand why, I was simply commiserating,” she retorts.

  “Christ, we need to find the genius-me so I can finally understand what the hell you two are saying,” other-Nick says.

  “Where did you come from? How did you find me? What do you want?” you babble, thoughts finally boiling up to the surface.

  “Another universe, duh,” Nick says. “Even I get that much.”

  Other-you smiles. “How did we find you? I tried to think, ‘Where’s the one place I’d go, the one place where no one would ever look for me?’ Well, nobody but you would look for you here.”

  “And what do we want? Why, your powers of course. Now, this may sting,” Catherine says.

  Then she points the future-rifle turns and blasts into you. A beam surrounds you, immobilizing your body and sapping you of your energy. You can feel your powers slip away. When she releases the trigger, you let out a painful cry, but fall to your knees, helpless.

  The way you could feel the energy of the world around you is gone, ripped from your mind. It leaves you feeling incredibly violated.

  She adjusts a setting on the weapon, turns and shoots the other you—who accepts your stolen superpower as a new gift.

  “Fantastic,” your doppelganger says, reaching out with an arm and lifting you from the ground.

  Nick sighs impatiently. “C’mon, let’s go find the other two.”
/>   “It feels strange to kill yourself,” you hear your evil self say.

  Then you suffocate as your stolen powers are used against you, the air cut off as you’re psychically choked.

  THE END

  Double Down

  “Hell. Yes. Hell-fucking-yes,” Nick says. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. My plan was to first take over this casino, legitimately of course, and amass power in the way of the modern American supervillain—as a corporation.

  “You know Lex Luther, arch-enemy of Superman? Well, all he had to do was to use his supergenius to make money legally and Superman couldn’t touch him. So that’s what we do here. Fifty-fifty partners, and I’ll keep up on the legal side of evil. Deal?”

  You nod. At least for now, you’ll let him lead. Or at least think he’s in charge. If he’s nearly as smart as he claims to be, this is a major upgrade to your takeover engine.

  “Good. First thing first, your public image. Tell me exactly how you took over the casino.”

  “Well, it was fairly simple,” you shrug. “I won a couple million by fixing roulette, and they invited me up here so Bloodnight—the owner—could threaten me. But I threw him off the balcony and bribed his staff so they’d work for me.”

  Wide-eyed, Nick takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “Not the most elegant plan, but it obviously worked. It’s a good thing we paired up when we did; I think it’s still early enough to keep us out of the spotlight. Step one: We need to delete the security tapes and any record of your winnings. The story can’t be one of a meteoric rise to fame.

  “Step two: We need a patsy. No one with half a brain will believe ‘Uhhh, he just gave it to me.’ So we make it look like we’re hired consultants, here to temporarily run the place for the stockholders, and we blame his death on someone else entirely.

  “Step three: As the hired consultants, our ultimate conclusion will be a top-down replacement of staff. This way, anyone who knows the truth is gone. We can make them sign a non-disclosure agreement and turn that bribe you gave into legitimate severance pay.”

  “Did you just come up with that?”

  He shrugs. “It’s what I do. Anyone who doesn’t go along, well, I’m sure you can ‘influence’ their decision, yes?”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that part,” you say.

  “Good. There’s just one other detail to iron out.”

  Nick flips on the enormous television and cues in the local news station. There onscreen is blonde eye-candy reporter Alison Argyle, standing at a police barricade with a special report.

  “I’m here at the downtown Mercury Bank, where a robbery is in progress. A team of armed men have taken control of the bank, and it is believed there are hostages involved.” Alison Argyle turns away from the camera in response to shouts from the gathered crowd. Her cameraman pans and zooms to catch the action.

  A costumed woman runs toward the bank entrance. She wears a tight, midriff-exposing black t-shirt emblazoned with a playing-card-suit red diamond logo, fingerless gloves, and black yoga pants tucked into crimson-red boots. Her face is concealed behind a red domino mask, but as she smashes through the security doors and rushes into the bank, there can be little doubt in your mind as to who this superpowered woman truly is.

  Nick turns the TV off. “This is bad—and it’s only going to get worse. This town ain’t big enough for the three of us, as they say.”

  “You think she’s a threat?”

  “She’s the only possible threat!” Nick counters. “She sees herself as some kind of superhero, like the world is her personal comic book. Well, I say, so be it!”

  He turns to you, brow raised, waiting for a response.

  • “We make her the patsy! We turn public opinion against her. Then, just like being the casino consultants here to save the Planet Mercury, we’ll arrive to save the day and stop Catherine.”

  • “We should make our own larger-than-life personas and take her out. Once she’s dealt with, there will be no stopping us.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Double Trouble

  It’s not difficult to operate the tech staff, not when you’ve been given the very genius that created it. So you set it to return from whence it came, and soon the air sparks and the shimmering purple gate appears once more.

  “What are you going to do with me?” your doppelganger asks. You hesitate for a moment, wary to betray yourself—even if that “self” isn’t truly you—but then hunger kicks in. Hunger for power, for more, and for tacos.

  With a sudden flash of inspiration, you say, “You have war crimes to answer for.”

  You step through the portal and into another universe. It’s the same nuclear power station on this side, but the other-you had been here longer. It’s a full laboratory, and more importantly—several crates of foodstuffs await in one corner.

  You rush over and gorge your super-appetite. Catherine and Nick are quick to follow, and they look around the lab while you eat. Catherine adjusts Widowsilk using various found equipment.

  “So how do we find the other ‘yous’?” you ask, finally sated.

  “These people may look exactly like us, but they aren’t us. There’s no telling what number of choices they’ve made differently in their version of our lives, to the point where we really are totally different people,” Catherine says.

  Nick shakes his head. “This philosophical stuff is too much for me; let’s just find the other powers.”

  “Based on our universe, I’d say we should check the news,” you say.

  Nearby, several computers sit bundled together, sharing hardware to crack the equations governing the space-time continuum, but you’re pretty sure you can use the array to pull up the news. In only a short few minutes, you find a live stream from K-HAN’s website.

  You put the newsfeed on full-screen and watch as reporter Alison Argyle delivers a live broadcast. She’s saying, “…the criminals known as ‘Drillbit’ and ‘Shadow Priestess’ have apparently formed a terrible alliance.”

  The image turns to bank security camera feed. Everything is normal for a moment, then the wall explodes and Nick Dorian punches his way in. He wears the navy-blue uniform of a handyman and the cocksure smile of a young man enjoying himself.

  “Why do I look like I’m dressed for a porno?” asks the Nick from your world.

  On the broadcast, a woman in a flowing black cloak floats in—her alligator boots hover six inches from the ground. The hood of the cloak obscures her face, but you can be certain you’re looking at this-world’s Catherine Woodall. She puts out her hands, and in response the bank security guards point their handguns at their own heads.

  “Interesting,” your-Catherine says. “This is happening live?”

  The image onscreen flashes back to Ms. Argyle. “Police appear powerless against the criminal duo and now appeal to the federal government to send in troop support. This reporter has another appeal—to the third member of the experiment. If you’re out there, and you can help, this city desperately needs you.”

  Your picture splashes up onscreen. “I think I’ll take this universe,” you say.

  “Good call. Step one of godhood: Be revered,” Nick adds.

  “We need to get to the bank, quickly,” Catherine says. “Nick, do you think you can fly downtown and keep them distracted until we show up?”

  “No prob. Just one question: What happens if I kill myself here? Will I slowly fade away from existence or whatever?”

  Catherine shakes her head and sighs. “You’re thinking of the grandfather paradox, and more specifically, of the movie Back to the Future. This isn’t time travel, this is multiverse theory—very different. But I don’t think I can absorb the superpowers of a corpse, so don’t kill yourself before I’ve stolen the super-strength.”

  * * *

  The taxi cab drops you off three blocks from the bank; the police barricade combined with gawker traffic is just too thick. Knowing that time is of the essence, you leave Catherine behind and spri
nt toward the bank with incredible, inhuman strides.

  When you skid to a stop outside the barricade, several sections of concrete ripple as if the earth were a rug bunching up beneath your feet. Several dozen police officers look your way.

  “Did a flying kid just show up?”

  One by one, they all point to the bank’s blown-out wall. You rush inside. The doppelganger-versions of Nick and Catherine stare at you in wide-eyed disbelief. The bank vault door lies on the floor at the center of the destruction.

  “Hey, Roman, I was just telling the gang about you,” your-Nick says. “Drillbit got Rock while Shadow Witch got Scissors.”

  “It’s Shadow Priestess,” the hooded woman corrects. “Something from my kid’s videogames.”

  “He is rather fond of those, isn’t he?” your-Catherine says, entering the bank with a wistful smile.

  “Wh-what are you guys doing…ummm…in our universe?” Drillbit asks.

  “Well, the same thing as you, really. We’re here to steal something valuable,” Catherine says as she unslings Widowsilk and brings the future-tech rifle to a charge.

  “Drop the weapon!” Shadow Priestess shouts, her arms spread, rising into the air.

  “Evil twins—I knew it!” cries Drillbit, who hoists up the enormous bank vault door with ease.

  Your-Catherine can only steal from one at a time, but who first?

  • “Catherine! Fire on Drillbit first. You created this weapon to sap my strength, after all.”

  • Crack your knuckles. “Take out the Shadow Priestess! I’ll handle the handyman.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Dun Dun Duunnnn….

  (Super-Fiends–Part 2)

  Previously on SUPERPOWERED… The Freedom Fighters were about to have a Battle Royale with the Experi-mentor and the newly-super Planet Mercury Casino staff: Nelson Bloodnight, owner and crime kingpin. Su-Young, personal assistant and fixer. Jorge Halifax, floor operations manager. Luther Stockton, head of security.