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

by James Schannep

  Her leap turns into a fall, and she slams into the floor before skidding to a stop at the Experi-mentor’s feet. The lightsaber powers-down.

  The villain now turns to you, and you try to grasp the weapon with your mind, but his force field blocks your influence. No choking him, nothing. You and Dorian White are helpless as he comes at you with five superpowers to finish the job. He raises his hands and delivers an onslaught that qualifies as overkill.

  Mercifully, your death is quick.

  THE END

  * But not actually a Jedi. Because this story contains elements of pop culture and is not, you know, an official part of Lucasfilm™. If anything, it’s a parody of a Jedi. Like Kevin Smith in Mallrats. Perfectly clear? Okay, good.

  Like a Lead Balloon

  With the ease of Peter Pan, you dart out the open window and fly through the air. Good luck reporting that, Alison. Where to? Your apartment is compromised, and you’ve got nothing but the clothes on your back. You could….

  Shattering glass brings your attention back to the building. You turn just in time to see Catherine come flying out of your window, glass and brick expelled from the brutish leap. She can fly too? That’s bullshit.

  No, wait—you can see it now; hers was more of a tick’s incredible bounding ability than the hovering housefly maneuver you’ve perfected. Still, she comes at you, and she comes fast.

  You turn to flee, but she latches on to you. The two of you plummet toward the city streets below and you think she says something like “Not so fast!” but it’s hard to hear when the air whips by at the speed of gravity.

  You struggle to free yourself, but she’s got a grip like a vise. Either she’s too amped up to consider the impending crunch, or she just doesn’t care. She’s got a smile on her face when the two of you slam into the pavement from lethal heights.

  THE END

  Limitations

  “You don’t get to threaten me, you little shit!” she roars, hurling what’s left of her coffee mug at you.

  You push your own mug to intercept, exploding them together in midair, then duck away from the resultant ceramic and coffee fireworks.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” you say.

  “You can’t.”

  Catherine leaps up, punches both fists into the roof, then pulls the whole structure down. At the last second, you seek shelter under the kitchen bar, and then dart out around the wreckage.

  She asked for it. You reach out with your mind, feeling for her windpipe, and squeeze.

  Nothing happens.

  She rushes in toward you and you squeeze harder, but it’s like trying to crush a rock in your palm. Like trying to crush a diamond.

  Just as she gets to you, you change tactics. You grab onto her whole body, shove her away with all your might and attempt to fling her away.

  Nope.

  She doesn’t even budge. Instead, you fling yourself into what’s left of the trailer wall—equal and opposite reaction, and all that.

  You’re momentarily stunned, wheezing for breath. She grabs you by the neck and holds you up off the ground. That doesn’t make breathing any easier.

  “Never come looking for me again,” she says.

  She steps and throws you out of the trailer, hurling you into the night air like child having a tantrum might throw a doll. Unfortunately, this child’s gotten too big for her britches and throws you so hard, she snaps your neck in the process.

  Your limp body lands several blocks away and you’ll later be filed in the morgue under “Doe, J.”

  THE END

  Lucky You

  After dressing to the nines, like the high roller you’re soon to be, it’s off to the Planet Mercury Casino. You spend the cab ride downtown passing your mail key from palm to palm, practicing your telekinesis—ready to move the roulette ball without so much as a flick of the wrist.

  As you arrive, you’re greeted with all the glitz and glam of casino nightlife. Advertisements for buffets, strip clubs, discount tourist attractions, and invitations to join the Players Club abound, but one sign in particular catches your eye—declaring that tonight is Amateur Magician Night. Grand prize winner takes home $5,000 and will be considered for a permanent slot in the casino’s entertainment lineup.

  • No way I can make $5K in five minutes manipulating roulette. Don’t get distracted by fame; fortune awaits!

  • Time to gather my pet tigers and beautiful assistants in glitter suits—I’m going to be the greatest magician this town has ever seen!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  The Lying King

  Nick’s face registers shock when you drop the screaming, struggling boy before him.

  “It’s like she knew, Nick,” you say. “Do you think she could sense it somehow? Sense that he was in ‘danger’ or…?”

  “You actually…” Nick says, stunned.

  “What did you expect? Where’s Droakam?”

  Nick shakes his head. “Agent Droakam didn’t make it. See for yourself.”

  He punches a few keys to bring up video feed from one of the helicopters down at the bank. Nick goes to Danny, and takes the boy away from the images on screen.

  The footage shows Catherine exiting the bank, surrounded by the police. She drops the limp figures of several robbers onto the ground and the crowd goes wild. But the police move forward, engaging her. You have no audio, save for the pilot, but he’s just speaking in jargon.

  Agent Droakam is there on-scene, handgun drawn but not aimed. Not yet. The policemen all move forward, and Catherine’s posture shifts. She waves her arms, aggressively shooing away the police force, but still they come.

  She suddenly lifts a car off the street, and Droakam’s weapon rises. He fires. She hurls the car at him, crushing the agent.

  “Oh my God,” you say. “What do we do now?”

  “You took the cub. Now you’re facing the mother lion,” Nick says.

  “Me?” you say.

  “I’m sorry it had to be this way, but it’s the only outcome to guarantee her cooperation. I’ve studied her quite a bit more than I let on, and with what you told me….She’s far too powerful to leave to chance. But with you and Droakam as a common enemy—”

  “Nick, what have you done?”

  “Made a powerful ally,” he whispers. Then he turns and shouts, “Catherine, thank God you got my call! They’re crazy; you’ve got to do something!”

  You turn toward the entrance and see Catherine bearing down on you. Her stride is inhumanly fast. “Catherine, don’t listen to him; it’s Nick—”

  You fly up overhead and move to slip past Catherine and out the entrance, but in an incredible move, she lifts one of the largest crates and flings it at you with terrible force and accuracy. The effect is like being hit head-on by a speeding bus.

  With you and Agent Droakam out of the way, and Catherine in his pocket, who knows how far Nick will go?

  THE END

  Mad as a Hatter

  Before heading to your new lair, you empty your bank accounts and stock up on supplies. Firstly, you purchase, program, and send out a pair of drones to spy on the other two from the experiment. Know thine enemy, right? Once you’ve stocked up on food, water, and raw electronic components, it’s time to head underground. Literally.

  Mercury City got its name from the rich mercury deposits naturally occurring here, and originally started as a mining community some two centuries ago. The mercury mines have been closed and condemned for several decades, but that’s a good thing. It makes for a remote and deadly locale.

  Only a few minor (miner? ha, you’re welcome) details to work out. First, there are no lights and nothing but toxic air in the cavernous depths below. Not to mention the possibility of mercury poisoning. If the mine still has trace levels, the heavy metal will seep into your system and slowly drive you insane.

  Well, it’s not anything money can’t buy. Once your cancer research royalties flow in (not to mention Nobel prize money!) you can easily hire a crew—
using a fake name, of course—to spruce things up for you. Still, it’ll be a while before you’ve got steady cash flow, so you’d better do something now to get it all started. You know, before that mercury-induced madness sets in.

  As you contemplate your next move, the drones return. A quick study of the footage reveals startling information. Nick has gained incredible physical prowess. He moves with fast, athletic moves, but also an incredible strength and durability. The drone shows Nick flip a parked car with his bare hands, leap atop a nearby building, and smash through the locked roof access with less effort than you needed to rip the price tag from your electronics. It also suggests a quick temper, prone to rash decision-making.

  The next drone tells of Catherine’s enhancements. She’s coy in her self-discovery, but the aerial camera shows the single mother lift several household objects in an apparent display of telekinesis before closing the blinds on her trailer home. In the last bits of surveillance, someone in a black hooded robe emerges from the back of the trailer and flies into the air too fast for the drone to follow.

  Quite the challenging pair, but nothing you can’t deal with, given your resources. So, how’re you going to earn your riches?

  • The Planet Mercury Casino owner is a known mob boss. Why not make him an offer he can’t refuse? Money and armed foot soldiers in one fell swoop!

  • Convince the two to work for you. How hard would it be to rob a bank with those powers?

  • Rig the stock market. You learned how to cure cancer in a day; surely you can become an industry insider after an hour or two.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Manning Crisis

  “Well, that is…unfortunate,” Agent Droakam says when you break the news.

  “Who cares? We can take care of a few thieves on our own.”

  “A few thieves who are most likely using our blood samples to find sinister ways to kill us,” Nick adds.

  Droakam shakes his head. “It’s more than just that. By not joining us, that makes Ms. Woodall another potential threat in the future. And that makeshift lab you say she has in her house—I wonder just what she’s up to?”

  “One threat at a time, yeah? Let’s go bring in this casino boss,” you say.

  “Nelson Bloodnight made a major slip-up when he robbed a government facility. We’ve got clearance to bring him in. Still, we don’t know if he’s on his yacht, in his casino, or in an establishment of ill repute.”

  “Wait…like a whorehouse?” Nick asks, his voice perking up. He clears the involuntary excitement from his throat.

  “We don’t want to spook him,” Agent Droakam says. “I’m going to see about borrowing some extra help. First we get a team to locate Bloodnight, then we send in the two of you. I’ll be back soon, Nick—”

  “Call me ‘Murica, it’s more fun.”

  Droakam sighs. “Just make sure that WMD doesn’t do anything rash, and you, make sure that…’Murica…doesn’t touch anything in here. Half these crates contain something potentially lethal.”

  “Only because you called me ‘Murica,” Nick says with a nod.

  Agent Droakam shakes his head and leaves the warehouse. You can hear his SUV engine start up and the agent drive away. You say, “So how about we go raid the yacht?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what the agent meant by ‘rash.’”

  “We can’t just sit around here doing nothing, can we?”

  The warehouse doors swing open, but instead of an agent in a suit, a man in a flowing white lab coat with an ‘Ex’ emblazoned on his T-shirt comes marching in.

  “I completely agree,” the Experi-mentor says. “So why don’t you come with me so I can study you further?”

  You look at Nick, then at the scientist who has returned from the dead. Looks like he survived the initial blast of the experiment after all.

  “I thought you said we could kill them?” says another man from the shadows outside the warehouse.

  The Experi-mentor steps aside to reveal his companions, four menacing figures: A short, Korean woman in a black pantsuit with soulless eyes. A tall, muscular, athletic man (despite his age) with smooth ebony skin, head shaved and a thin mustache. A slim man of similar age with bronzed skin and coal-black hair—combed back for the “mobster” look. And a large, broad man with a Texas ten-gallon hat and the face of Chief Joseph.

  “I said if they didn’t surrender,” the scientist explains to the man in the cowboy hat.

  “Who the hell are these people?” Nick asks.

  “You don’t recognize your targets? This is the staff of the Planet Mercury Casino, Nelson Bloodnight and his cohorts. Although, now that I’ve managed to reverse-engineer your powers and recreate the experiment results, I’ve decided to call them ‘The Mercurials.’ Their leader is Primordial and this is Lady Ghoststep—”

  “Don’t really care,” you say, anger billowing inside.

  “But that’s the fun part!” the Experi-mentor groans.

  “Doesn’t matter. Either you’re about to kill us, or we’re about to kill you. Either way, don’t care about your names.”

  “It’s true, doc. Let’s get on with it,” Bloodnight/Primordial says.

  “I think this counts as rash,” Nick whispers.

  “Me too.” You rush forward and attack the casino boss, but your assault falls into the man as his body folds back like a trampoline. His legs form coils—literally—and his arms stretch out and grab two nearby crates, so that he’s re-formed his body into a slingshot. Your own momentum provides the force to fling you across the warehouse and through the back wall. You shake off the dust and plunge back in.

  When you climb inside, you see Nick fighting both the shapeshifting Bloodnight and the thick-limbed enforcer. Knowing he’s outmatched, Nick grabs the larger man by the neck using his telekinesis and flings the bruiser across the room—breaking his neck in the process. The man rises to his feet and his neck cracks back into place, instantly healed.

  You rush in to join the fight, but every time you swing a punch at the greasy-haired mobster, he dodges the blow with inhuman speed. He’s just a blur that you can’t possibly hit.

  Nick floats up into the air to avoid the newly-healed criminal, but Bloodnight forms his arm into a flail—a ten foot-long chain with an enormous ball of spikes on the end. He connects the weapon to Nick’s chest and the college student falls from the air.

  With a powerful battle-cry, you smash into Bloodnight and knock the man across the room. You move to finish him off, but the small woman comes to stop you. She doesn’t look threatening, but what did the Experi-mentor call her? Lady Ghoststep?

  She puts a hand through your chest, and you stop dead in your tracks when her fist clogs your respiratory tract. You can’t breathe! You choke, cough and sputter, but your body’s reflexes are no match for her supernatural grip.

  You look to Nick for help, but the other three “Mercurials” are taking care of him while you suffocate. It’s too much. The four of them easily overwhelm the two of you. Agent Droakam will be in for a bad day when he learns his Freedom Fighters were KIA.

  THE END

  Masked and Dangerous

  You rush over to the Halloween store and grab the Phantom mannequin from the street, dragging it inside with you, madly searching for somewhere to change. Screw it—in the aisle! The door gives a ding! when you enter, and a young man wearing all black comes around the corner.

  “I need this costume, fast!”

  “Okay…” he says, brushing his bleached/orange hair across his brow. “I’ve got plenty on aisle four, if you—”

  “Just help me with this one!”

  His black-lipsticked lips press together. “No problem.”

  He unbuttons the puffy shirt while you pull off the trousers. You replace your own pants with the costumed pair. The clerk doesn’t even bat an eyelash; he’s seen stranger things working at a downtown, year-round Halloween store.

  After what feels like ages, you’re finally in the costume. A
tuxedo mixing the somberness of a vampire and the bravado of a pirate. A flowing black cape goes nearly to the ground. It fits well, and makes you feel like someone else—someone powerful and confident. The outfit is nearly a complete visage of darkness, save for the white, iconic Phantom mask.

  “Okay, how do I put the mask on?” you ask.

  “I’ll have to get you some tacky.”

  “Some what?”

  “Sticky tack, so you can adhere it to your face.”

  “Wait, I can’t just put it on?”

  He sighs. “If you want, you don’t have to wear it…”

  “Goddamn it! The mask is the whole point. Just, fine, get the tacky, quick!”

  The clerk goes, but not very quickly. You briefly consider telekinetically keeping the mask pressed against your face, but think better of it. It’s hard enough focusing on multiple tasks with your new power, as it is.

  When he returns, he asks you to sit down while he applies some kind of flesh-friendly super glue around your right cheek and eye socket. He taps the area several times with his forefingers until your skin starts to stick to his, then he firmly holds the mask down on your face.

  “Should just be a couple of minutes.”

  You growl with frustration.

  Finally, the process is complete and you rise as The Phantom, pay the clerk, and head out into the streets to save the day. The prostitute is dead, her throat slit. The pimp kicks her lifeless body.

  Shit.

  You rush over, roaring with rage. The man turns to face you just as you pummel him with a combined telekinetic and physical punch. BAM! He flies across the street and bounces off the brick wall opposite. CRACK!