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

by James Schannep

  The screen flashes to an aerial view of the warehouse district, the helicopter’s floodlight sweeping over the buildings to focus on a column of smoke.

  “That’s only minutes away from us!” Nick shouts.

  “No, don’t even think about it,” Agent Droakam says. “Law enforcement has it covered. We have our authorized operation, and I had to pull some strings just to get that. You could jeopardize everything if you don’t go now.”

  Nick turns to you.

  • “Okay. Stick to the mission. Who’s the target and what do I need to do?”

  • “We need to bring Catherine in. Everything else is just a distraction.”

  • “I’m going to that warehouse. This is a sign!”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  The First Martian

  Mercury City has a robust subway system and—like other historied metropolises—empty stations that were simply abandoned when updated routes were constructed. An antiquated map tells of outmoded Central Station, replaced by a modern version of the same name, the progenitor left to rot, with its entrance paved over.

  In a word, the spot is perfect.

  Along the rails you can transport your rocket ships. Inside the cavernous tunnels you can begin the growth of your nanobot-cum-algae you’ll use to give the red planet an atmosphere. In this forgotten part of the world, you can plan a new one.

  But there’s one last step to take before you bound away from earthly life for good. After all, what’s a colony without colonists?

  * * *

  You stand in the lobby of the K-HAN news building after giving your name and position as “Guest Lecturer for Mercury University.” It’s not long before Alison Argyle comes out to see you.

  “I thought you were pleading the fifth?” the reporter asks, one eyebrow raised.

  “I’ll tell you what you need to know, but I have one condition. A favor, actually.”

  After an appraising glance, she says, “Guess you’d better come up.”

  Once you’re both seated in her office—where awards, plaques, and photographs with celebrities line the walls—she waits for you to proceed.

  “I have a message I want you to record. I’m sure you get all manner of crackpots demanding a segment on the nightly news, so I ask only this: record my message. Keep it until the day you deem it newsworthy. In exchange, I’ll tell you everything about the lab explosion.”

  Without a word, she stands and walks out of the office. You turn and watch her leave, half-expecting her to return with security. Instead, she carries a tripod-mounted camera. She sets everything up, then tells you to begin.

  You clear your throat. “People of Earth, greetings. By now you know I’ve cured cancer.”

  The reporter gives you a look, but you continue. “And, if you’re watching this broadcast, I’m already on my way to Mars. With my advanced rocket design, it’s only a three-month trip, and that’s plenty of time to develop the life-sustaining techniques needed for our future home. I’ve made my plans for homemade rocket ships available to download online, but please proceed with caution.

  “The Martian Federation needs brilliant minds and hard workers. I will send messages with supply requests, but know that any and all are welcome to join me on the red planet. Mars was the Roman god of war, yet our new home will be a commune of peace and tolerance.

  “I hope to meet the bravest among you very soon.”

  You turn from the camera to Alison Argyle. Her lips are parted and her eyes are wide. Does she believe you? It doesn’t matter. Once the Nobel committee shares your discoveries, she certainly will. Perhaps she’ll be among those intrepid enough to join you amongst the stars?

  So you tell her of the experiment and the explosion, and of your newfound genius. Then, within a week, you leave this planet. Never to return, unconcerned with what becomes of Mercury City and the other superbeings who inhabit the Earth. Instead, you’ll live the rest of your days in a clock-shaped palace as the philosopher-king of Mars, known simply to your subjects as Dr. Mercury.

  You win, in a sense, though Earth as a whole suffers a great loss with your departure.

  THE END

  Flight of Shame

  You wake up, head pounding. What the hell happened last night? Vague memories of acrobatic floating, and you’re pretty sure you have some oddly placed bruises, but it’s pretty hazy. Though, seeing as how you’re in Catherine’s bed, there’s little doubt how things ended up. Yet you wake up alone.

  “Catherine?” you call out.

  No response. Something draws your attention toward the living room. Is that the TV? You walk out to investigate and—yep, it’s the TV—with a young boy watching it on the couch.

  “Hi. You’re mom’s friend, right?” Oh, shit. “Look, she’s on the news.”

  The image on screen cuts from blonde eye-candy reporter Alison Argyle to the façade of Mercury Bank and a title card that reads, “ROBBERY IN PROGRESS—Hostages Taken.” The bank has police barricades set up, but immediately, Catherine runs toward the entrance in her Diamond costume and smashes through the front security doors and into the bank.

  The crowd gathered behind the police barricade erupts in cheers.

  “I need to help her!” you say.

  “Wait, you’re gonna want a mask,” Danny says.

  * * *

  Wearing a pair of Catherine’s pantyhose over your head—you’re not proud, but hey, it was short notice—you rocket your way through the air toward Mercury Bank. The traffic would be impossible, especially with an ongoing crisis, but flight makes the journey only a few minutes long.

  You weave through the skyscrapers, your own reflection glittering off the windows, darting just above the streetlights and overpasses. Once the bank is in sight, you dart in through the broken doors.

  Inside, the bank is a scene of total destruction. Desks have been thrown wildly, clearing a central path, and people are huddled along the outer walls. They look to you with concern, and you command their attention by floating several feet above the ground. Their look shows more terror than excitement. Mercury City doesn’t yet know its heroes.

  “Where is she?” you ask.

  One by one, they all point to the rear of the bank. Gunfire rattles somewhere in the distance. A man in a ski mask sprints out toward you, and in reflex you psychically grab two computer monitors from the desks of New Accounts and bring them together around the man’s head. Your feet touch the ground as you lift the man and fling him to the side.

  Catherine rushes to you from around the corner, her costume pock-marked with bullet holes. She’s holding the enormous disc-shaped door from the vault and—before she has a chance to recognize you—she hurls the enormous metal saucer at you.

  • Dive out of the way.

  • Catch it with your telekinesis.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Flock Together

  “Excellent,” Nick says.

  He looks past you, brings his wrist up to his mouth and says something into his wristwatch that you can’t quite hear. Confused, you turn back—right into the full security team of the casino. Two dozen men, armed and ready to gun you down.

  “What the….” you say, raising your hands in defeat.

  Looks like Nick won; somehow he tricked you. Feelings of betrayal bubble up inside you, and you prepare yourself for revenge. But the security personnel lower their weapons and head back into the recesses of the casino.

  When you turn back, Nick grins. “You’re looking at the new owner of the Planet Mercury casino,” he says. “I was here counting cards, but last night I met with Nelson Bloodnight—the previous owner—and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

  “You killed him?”

  “Oh, no. Far too messy. A literal offer. Remember: super-genius. I posed my takeover with such terms that he thought he was getting a better deal. And in return, he publicly and legally gave me power here. Power over employees, all the money in the vault, and soon, by proxy, over the city. Thus lies the
secret of true power; getting someone to do what you want is one thing, but making them think it was their idea in the first place—that’s something else entirely.”

  Nick quickly adds, “Of course, that’s not what’s happening with us. Come with me up to the penthouse! That place is amazing.”

  A private elevator leads up to the main penthouse suite on the top floor—forty stories up. It’s a gaudy headquarters, but as a status symbol, it’s second to none. The suite is incredibly large (it puts the house in penthouse), with two whole stories and several rooms. A gigantic balcony draws your attention outside.

  “Pretty nice digs, eh?” Nick says. “Tonight, we celebrate, but let’s not rest on our laurels. Tomorrow, we move on to phase two.”

  “Phase two?” you inquire.

  “Tomorrow,” Nick winks. “Now then, what’s your poison? Champagne? Caviar? Or are you more a scotch-and-cigars type?”

  * * *

  The next morning, while you share room service of a quality normally reserved for royalty, it’s on to business. Nick says, “What we really want is a monopoly. And to have that, we must eliminate the competition.”

  “Competition?”

  “Haven’t you heard the rumors of ‘Supa-gurl’ or whatever the masses are calling her? Catherine Woodall has taken her powers public and declared herself savior of the public. ‘The superhero exists, and she’s American.’ Don’t you follow the news?”

  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 must bait a trap, but how do we stop someone who can smash through walls?”

  • “You’re right, she is a threat. But what if we simply help the rest of the city realize it? Turn public opinion against her. Then we’ll show up, defeat her, and be greeted as heroes.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Fly-by-Night

  You try the door—yep, it’s locked. Standard dead-bolt, but the thumb-turn is on the other side. But you can feel the lock; you can almost see it in your mind. Close your eyes and focus. Mentally, you twist the deadbolt back to the open position. It’s such a realistic visualization, you can actually hear the door unlocking.

  When you open your eyes and try the door once more—it opens. You just telekinetically opened a door from the other side. This is amazing!

  “Don’t move, goddammit!” shouts a cop from the hall, pistol trained on you.

  Keeping your eyes open this time, you feel the handgun with your mind. As clearly as if you had a grip on it yourself, you turn the weapon so the policeman points the weapon at his own head, the muzzle pressed firmly against his temple.

  The man’s eyes open wildly, and beads of sweat appear on his brow. With his other hand, he tries to peel the weapon away, but in vain—your mental grip is much, much stronger.

  • Now would be a great time to escape out the back, and get far, far away from all of this.

  • Make an example of him—fear will keep the rest of them in line. Then walk out the front door.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Foiled Again

  Step one: Search for rentable lab space.

  Step two: Search this subset for labs with no vacancies.

  Step three: Visit said labs, seeking out the man who created you.

  After barging in on two very confused researchers, you hit the jackpot on the third lab. Three vans are parked nearby, with HiT stenciled on the side of each. Human Infinite Technologies.

  “This is it, get ready,” you say.

  Catherine steals a key card from a hapless janitor, but Nick just smashes through the security doors. Six researchers, two women and four men, stand in the lab space. Several work on a glass pod about the size of an old telephone booth. One of the women dips lab-coats in vats of dye, changing them from white to various solid colors.

  Then, like seeing a ghost, a man looks up from a microscope. Beneath his white lab coat, an “Ex” stands out. He puts on his glasses and his eyes grow wide at the sight of you. “My—my creations!”

  “You’re done creating,” you say.

  “Wait!” the Experi-mentor cries out. “I’m so close to duplicating the results. With new and remarkable powers. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

  You close your eyes. Curious, maybe. But only other superhumans can stop your genius. And what if he makes more like you? If everyone’s special, no one is.

  At length, you say, “Destroy everything.”

  • Only one threat remains: Agent Droakam and the Supersoldier Project.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Follow the Leader

  You fly inside the bank just in time to see Catherine rush into the back. Bank employees and customers are huddled against the sides at the entrance, but you zoom past them and back toward the vault.

  When you make it to the Employees Only section of the bank, half a dozen well-armed robbers are there waiting for you. Expecting you, they open fire.

  But they’re not expecting someone like Catherine. She runs through the lead hailstorm like it was only a spring rain. Bullets ping off her skin and she closes the gap between herself and the robbers in only a few seconds.

  No, they were expecting someone more like you, someone who isn’t bulletproof. You look down and see you’ve been shot several times. It’s not the best idea to lemming your way behind someone who is bulletproof, especially when the forecast calls for cloudy with a chance of gunfire.

  THE END

  Force Choke

  You reach out, hand clenched as if wrapped tightly around the prostitute’s neck, and from three feet away, she gasps for air and claws at her own throat. Using the power of mind, you raise her up off the pavement and with the tiniest flick of your wrist, her neck breaks.

  You look around—the street is empty, save for the Phantom mannequin at the Halloween shop across the street. The prostitute slumps to the ground next to the pimp. Defender of Peace and Justice, indeed. Perhaps not in a goody-two-shoes manner, but could that be what Mercury City needs? A hero darker than its villains?

  • No way, I’m the good guy! Killing that guy was just a slip-up. No one will know if I never tell….

  • That’s right, I make my own rules. If that makes others see me as a villain—so be it!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Fortune Favors the Hungry

  The crowd erupts with cheers as hostages stream out of the bank’s entrance and into the arms of EMTs and crisis-relief personnel. Then there is a deafening tidal wave of applause when Catherine drags out four bank robbers—two in each hand. She tosses them in a heap, then dusts off her hands. With an enormous grin, she double-fist-pumps the air and the crowd goes wild.

  You’re right there with her, accepting the adoration of the gathered crowd as you deliver the last two bank rob
bers. The combined weight of the men is too much for you to float them out, but you’re able to drag them out with only the power of mind. Such a feat makes the crowd go wild.

  Agent Droakam grabs a megaphone from a familiar-looking police sergeant and presses through the police barricade, marching toward you.

  “Stay where you are!” he commands.

  Catherine notices him and appraises the agent with curiosity. She takes two strides toward him and he places his hand on his hip, preparing to draw his weapon.

  You move forward to help, but before you can intercede, Catherine snatches the megaphone and addresses the crowd: “No need to thank me, fair people of Mercury City. I am Diamond, and we are here to protect you!”

  The cheers from the crowd strike you like an earthquake.

  “Give me that!” Droakam says, taking back the megaphone. He turns off the device, then adds, “Catherine Woodall, my name is Agent Brendan Droakam. I’d like you to please come with me.”

  “You may call me Diamond, and I don’t think I’d like to do that. We already told your lackey we’re not interested.”

  She looks to you.

  “That’s not a request, ma’am.”

  Catherine presses her index finger against Droakam’s chest and shoves him to the ground, using very little effort. “Buzz off, buddy. Go ticket speeders or something.”

  The entire police force draws their weapons. Boos come from the crowd. “Droakam, we don’t want to be enemies,” you say.

  “Then come with me. Nick is back at the lab, ready to recreate the experiment. Come quietly, and no one gets hurt.”

  “That a fact?” Catherine says. “Go ahead, do your worst.”