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

by James Schannep

  • I’d rather look weak to shareholders than to thugs. Make an impression on the crime world today, then the purchasing public tomorrow.

  • The day is young. Handle PR now and meet with my crime lieutenants after dark.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  A Night on the Town

  It’s only a short walk to “The Loading Dock,” a local dive bar and dockworker hotspot used as a watering hole on the way home after a long day at the warehouse district. Usually, you steer clear. It’s an insular bunch and tends to get rowdy. But tonight, you’re feeling rowdy.

  You step through the saloon-style doors, keeping your head down, but everyone looks up. The crowd is mostly men, dockworkers with thick beards, black knit caps, and uniform shirts with brown collars. Cold faces with colder eyes, and not a smile to greet you. Guess it’s one of those “where everybody knows your name” places, and their stares are a far cry from welcoming.

  At the bar you pick your poison, and after the briefest pause, the bartender serves you.

  You twirl your finger just above the liquid, letting your mind stir the beverage for you. Just as the bartender starts to notice, you turn and face the room, your back to the bar top, and scan the options.

  A jukebox is playing 1990s classic Nirvana. Smells Like Teen Spirit. A lonely dartboard is nearby, darts sticking out from the cork, the wall pock-marked with misses. Two men play pool in the center of the room. Against the far wall is a shuffleboard table where a young woman is writing messages in the sand.

  You feel like practicing your new skills, so why not:

  • See how many times you can hit the bull’s-eye in darts.

  • Challenge the men to pool. For money.

  • See if the young lady wants to play shuffleboard.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Night Owl

  The crate next to Nick’s Dinoskin is labeled: ekʞƎ Exoskeleton Loader. You’re about to take a look inside, but the next one over grabs your attention: Misc Supplies, Do Not Touch, No Smoking Within 200 Feet. What kind of miscellaneous supplies require a warning label? You get your fingernails into the lid, break the seal, and peel it off. Inside is a man-sized bomb with a nuclear symbol on it.

  “I don’t think we should go digging around in here…” Nick says.

  Seeing as how you just found a nuke, you’re inclined to agree. You carefully put the lid back on, then go to the opposite side of the warehouse. Several empty bookcases wait by the nearby crates, the first of which is already open. Inside is a collection of medical pamphlets with the titles: So You’re a Supersoldier, I am Jack’s X-ray Vision, Why You Shouldn’t Take Over the World, Big Book of Science, and Telekinesis and You.

  Taking a copy of the first pamphlet, you pull a tarp off the nearby couch and settle in to read. There’s a delightful 1950s cartoon image on the cover of a smiling, dapper man in a military uniform, his incredible muscles rippling as he flexes his arms.

  The intro reads:

  Super-strength and near-invulnerability may make you an army of one, but what are you really fighting for? Remember, a Supersoldier is only as powerful as the nation he fights for. As part of the New Breed, it’s your duty to use your powers responsibly. Luckily, you’ve got this informational brochure to serve as your moral compass!

  Topics Covered:

  - Why America is the Greatest Nation on Earth

  - Integrity, the True Super-Strength

  - Bench-Pressing Tanks

  - FAQs: Obeying Orders and Asking Questions Later

  Though fun, there’s not much to learn from the pamphlet. You’re the first of your kind, after all. Maybe you’ll write the next edition? With less propaganda, of course.

  • Keep browsing; fall asleep reading antiquated Super-literature pamphlets.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  No Honor among Thieves

  You float over the path of destruction, quickly fly behind Agent Droakam, and brace your lightsaber inches away from his throat.

  “Stop now, or I swear I’ll do it,” you say. “If he goes, it’s goodbye funding. No more Supersoldier Program means no more experimenting, ever.”

  The incredible energies stop their flow from the Experi-mentor’s fingertips. He stops to consider the situation, and both Diamond and Dorian White brace for his next move. It’s a tense stalemate.

  Then the Experi-mentor throws his head back and lets out a braying laugh.

  “You think I need him? He’s done his job. The program will go on with five dead agents just as easily as with six. Once I kill the three of you, I will be unstoppable. With each new useful ability I find, I’ll give it to myself as well. I’ll never stop; don’t you get it? With your powers combined…I am THE EXPERI-MENTOR!”

  He brings his arms up once more, sending arcs of electricity into Diamond and Dorian White, and laying out a cone of fire across you and Agent Droakam. Your skin melts and your eyes sear into blindness, then, graciously, your brain turns off your consciousness and allows you to die without further pain.

  THE END

  Normalizing

  You duck down and quickly walk from the fire, but someone’s repeated shouts draw your attention.

  “Scissors! Hey, Scissors!” It’s Catherine, the woman from the experiment, with the alligator boots. She looks thinner, somehow taller. Healthier than you remember. A good night’s sleep, maybe?

  “Where are you going?” she calls out. “C’mon, we can help!”

  “I, uhhh…” You just stand there, your mouth opening and closing like a drydock fish. After a moment, Catherine turns and runs toward the blaze.

  • Fine, sheesh. Try to help.

  • Whatever. Sneak off and go back home.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Nothing but Net

  First, you roll out of the path of the jumper’s collision course, then you fly over and embrace him from behind like a tandem skydive instructor. You can’t lift over double your body weight (he’s a pretty big guy), but you’re able to steer toward the outstretched tarp of the life net, offering occasional course corrections, like a returning space shuttle coming in hot.

  At the last possible moment, you drop the man atop the net and take back full control of your body via flight. The jumper is enveloped in the tarp and lowered safely to the ground while you hover above. The firefighters stare up at you, their mouths open in awe.

  “All in a day’s work for The Phantom!” you cry out, giving a salute like you’re a 1950s serial action hero.

  They say nothing. With a shrug, you grab the firehose off the truck and take it with you as you fly back up toward the fire. It seems they get the picture, because the line fills with pressure as you rise. It’s all you can do to hold onto the hose, but the upward water pressure actually makes flying a little easier.

  After you douse the flames, a figure catches your eye. A woman stands amongst the broken glass at the level you extinguished upon arrival. Another jumper? You lower yourself for a better look.

  Shockingly, it’s Catherine, the woman from the lab experiment. The one who picked “Rock” when you picked “Scissors.” What’s she doing here? This can’t be a coincidence.

  • She must be here to help too! With your combined powers, this fire doesn’t stand a chance.

  • She must be the one who started the fire! Drop the hose and prepare yourself for battle against your first supervillain!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Objects May Be Closer than They Appear

  Hands moving on autopilot as you sprint away from the hungry Tyrannosaur, you set the staff’s parameters to return home. Mercifully, your superhuman mind is still working on overdrive and you time the exit perfectly so the portal will open at the exact moment you reach the spot.

  You can be fairly certain that the 40-foot-long beastie can’t follow you into your 10-by-6-foot trans-dimensional gate, but you’ve got to reach it first. The shimmer appears in the air and the jewel glows. It starts to open. You sprint faster. As fast as your legs will car
ry you. Almost there….

  At the last moment you leap toward the gate, eyes closed and body tense with the expected bone-crushing chomp of the dinosaur’s maw. Your hands tell the staff to close the gate behind you, but it’s too close to call.

  Pain hits you hard on your right shoulder and you scream, a mix of terror and agony.

  Then you open your eyes. You’re lying on your right side on the floor of the abandoned nuclear reactor laboratory. You made it!

  You sit up and turn—right into the jaws of the T-Rex! You let out a blood-curdling scream and recoil, but the dinosaur stays put. In fact, it’s not moving at all. As you stand up, you see why.

  She’s dead. The portal closed on the queen of the dinosaurs just after she stuck her neck in after you. The cut is perfect; her head was simply transported back to your universe with you. Well, that should make for a hell of a souvenir. Maybe you should rename “The Staff” as “The Butterfly Effector.” Maybe not.

  Once you’re done studying your dino skull (and changing into a new pair of pants), why not try a world where:

  • There are no superpowered humans on the planet. You could do a lot of good for that world (or rule it) without fear of anyone exposing the secret to your genius.

  • There was never an explosion. Perhaps you can find the pods that gave you your powers and study them!

  • The Experi-mentor is nurturing instead of aggressive. Cautious instead of brash. Kind instead of overly driven. Perhaps you can find this gentler Experi-mentor and learn something about the pods?

  • You chose a different pod in the experiment. Why not commune with other genii and see yourself with different superpowers?

  • Science has stopped the aging process. As an immortal, you’ll be able to spend eternity exploring all the infinite possibilities!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Occupy Superpowers

  So you want to make your fortunes legally, eh? Smart thinking. You head to the Mercury City Public Library and dive deep into the movers and shakers of the stock world. Cross-referencing current events, you quickly learn how to make a small fortune predicting oil futures, then use your new influence to manipulate penny stocks.

  An overnight millionaire. Seldom has that phrase been used literally, but for you, it’s true. Of course, you have to use your real name to accomplish this feat, so goodbye, anonymity. Every news outlet in the world picks up on the nobody-turned-trading-expert from Mercury City.

  Since the requests for interviews seem never-ending, it’s little surprise when Nick from the experiment shows up at your future lair’s construction site. “I need a word,” he tells the foreman. “Buzz off.”

  The foreman looks at you, thoroughly confused.

  “Take five,” you say. The construction team clears the site and you nod for Nick to follow you inside the mine. Walking through the halls of your future subterranean penthouse, you wait for him to speak.

  “Wall Street, really?”

  “Spying on me?” you say without a hint of irony.

  Nick’s face is rigid. He’s changed, physically since the experiment. Taller, muscular and hard.

  You shrug. “I’ve legally accumulated a fortune; what of it?”

  “I’m not talking legal, I’m talking moral. The greatest crimes of our lifetime haven’t been prosecuted, because they weren’t technically crimes. Well, now there’s someone who can do something about it. Laws are meant to be rewritten. I’m not going to stand idly by while you line the pockets of these fat-cat—”

  “Nick, calm down. I didn’t make anyone else any money. I did the trades myself.”

  “Bullshit. You’re perpetuating the CEO top 1% agenda.”

  You sigh. “What would you have me do?”

  “Donate the money to the Occupy movement, and publicly come out against corporate greed.”

  “Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

  “Write the statement, or write a suicide note instead,” he says. His fists are clenched, he’s a seething pillar of rage. Maybe it’s that mercury madness sinking in, but you’ve got the urge to…

  • Test out your new trap doors. A hundred-foot drop into a poison-air cavern oughtta cool him off.

  • Placate him, for now. Tell him what he wants to hear, but use that money to install some major security upgrades in your lair.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Off with His Head!

  “Get that DinoSkin back on. I’m going to check the catalogue for other possible weapons,” Nick says.

  He’s grinning. A college student who’s never been in a fight before yet who now thinks he’s the smartest man on the planet. And the worst thing is, he just might be right. You shake your head and go back into the locker room. After you change and return to the warehouse, you find Nick and his robot sidekick busy prying open one of the crates. It’s labeled, ekʞƎ Exoskeleton Loader.

  “What’s that?” you ask.

  The front of the crate opens to reveal another mannequin, much like the one you found wearing your DinoSkin suit. This plastic man, however, is almost entirely naked—save for an odd line of metal tubing that runs along the arms, legs, and spine.

  “Step out,” Nick says and the mannequin walks out of the crate. “Release.”

  The metal portion collapses onto the floor, which sends the mannequin tumbling over. Nick steps onto the “feet” and the suit climbs up and over his body, attaching itself to the college student with snakelike movements. The process is eerily lifelike.

  “Best exoskeleton ever created,” Nick says. “Watch this.”

  He picks up one of the larger crates—far too heavy for you to lift either physically or mentally—and throws it across the warehouse floor. The crate smashes into several others, obliterating whatever they hold within.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Agent Droakam shouts.

  You turn back to face him. “Preparing for you! We’ve seen the email.”

  “What email?”

  “The report you just filed. Don’t bother lying about it,” Nick says.

  Droakam says nothing. It’s hard to read his expression. Finally, he says, “You’ve been spying on me?”

  “Pot calling the kettle black,” Nick scoffs. “Doesn’t feel good, does it? Try this one on for size: Drop your weapon and put your hands where we can see them.”

  Agent Droakam brings a hand to his hip near the gun holster. You take a step forward.

  “Don’t try anything stupid,” you warn.

  Nick readies himself. “The Supersoldier Program is over, Droakam.”

  In an incredible display of speed, the agent draws his weapon. You move to grab or at least deflect the gun, but not fast enough. Going on instinct, you mentally grab the man’s throat instead.

  The agent is powerless. In the same move, you slam him against the side of the giant computer terminal and Droakam collapses to the ground.

  Nick rushes over, suddenly much faster, with an exoskeleton-aided stride, and goes to his knees to check on the agent. The man coughs, sputtering blood.

  “I think…I think you severed his windpipe.”

  In a matter of moments, Agent Droakam is dead.

  “We should go before the other agents arrive,” you say. “Let’s burn the lab to cover our tracks.”

  “Or…” Nick is hesitant. He rises from the fallen agent’s side. “We could fortify the lab. Use it as our home base.”

  “Do we have time? Won’t they be….?”

  “There’s no one else coming.”

  For a moment, you say nothing. “What do you mean?”

  “Droakam was the only threat. And you’ve seen to that.”

  “What about the rest of them? Full funding was restored. The email, remember?”

  “I wrote that memo. I’m sorry, but I had no way of knowing if you were friend or foe until now. But you’re like me. And together—with all of this—think what we could accomplish!”

  “You made it all up?” The truth is just
now sinking in. “So…I killed an innocent man?”

  “And if you’re willing to kill a few more, we can rule this city—this country—the world!”

  “Won’t they wonder where he is? When he doesn’t check in?”

  “Ah, but he will check in. I’ve hacked their communications. I’ll send periodic email updates, requests for supplies, and so on. And if we need Droakam in the flesh, watch this.”

  In response to a few verbal commands, the exoskeleton detaches itself from Nick, slithers over and connects to Agent Droakam’s body. The agent rises, stands at the ready and awaits Nick’s next command.

  “Exoskeleton: respond to commands directed at ‘Droakam.’ Droakam: shoot that crate.”

  In response, the exoskeleton forces Droakam’s limp arms into action, draws the agent’s pistol, and fires into the crate Nick indicated. “Zombie Droakam” then returns to a ready state, awaiting the next command.

  “See? Droakam’s still around; he just works for us,” Nick says smugly, turning to you. “Now then, simply kneel before me, and the rest of mankind will kneel before you.”

  • Not this time. Don’t let the bastard get away with it. Say, “Droakam: shoot Nick.”

  • Kneel before Nick Dorian, master of the universe.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Oh, the Humanity!

  You sit atop a mountain of cash in a public park in the heart of downtown. Several passersby have eyed your throne greedily, but Baxter’s presence made them think twice. Besides, dozens of undercover cops are in amongst the joggers, dog walkers, and vagrants.

  It didn’t take much to convince Alison Argyle to go along with your plan. Since she already asked for your help, (once she conferred with her father, Mayor Argyle) Mercury City was all too willing to agree. The broadcast of you sitting atop Money Mountain asking for a meeting with the dastardly duo should have already played on the news stations; now you wait.