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

by James Schannep

  Or perhaps this is your best shot at taking out Nick and Catherine before they decide to turn on you?

  • One universe isn’t enough to contain you! Destroy Nick and Catherine once and for all.

  • Stick with the plan; see it through to the end.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

  Without hesitation, you reach into the living room and raise the couch into the air. Whoa…

  It’s heavy, and you can feel the toll, but it floats above your living room floor—ick, you really need to clean under there.

  Donning your mental wizard’s cap, you summon the broom and dustbin from the closet. Flailing your arms through the air, conducting the orchestra in your head, you start to clean the apartment. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead from the effort, but the couch floats near the ceiling while the broom sweeps beneath it. Whew, you could use a drink.

  You keep your left arm outstretched toward the broom and couch, then reach your right hand out to the fridge. The door shudders and the couch quivers in the air, so you double your focus and think hard. With a mental picture of where your favorite drink awaits, you hold your breath and use your telekinesis. Ready? Go!

  The door pops open and the beverage flies into your hand at top speed. Unprepared for so much so fast, you stumble back and lose your concentration. The couch falls on top of the broom, snapping it in half. You fall over the back of the couch, but manage to keep the drink upright. Okay, apparently there are limits to what you can do.

  Probably should spend the rest of the night floating a feather duster across the bookshelves while Cheetos line up before you. Where’s the remote? Ugh, it’s over by the TV. Guess you have to get up and walk over—oh wait, never again.

  * * *

  In the middle of the night, you wake up to use the restroom. What a kooky dream. Superpowers? Telekinesis? Haha, so ridiculous. That’s when you realize you’re floating on the way to the toilet. Holy shit, you’re flying! Or at least “lifting yourself” with your powers, so yeah, for all intents and purposes—you’re able to fly.

  Well, looks like you’re done sleeping. Time to test this new skill out! Out the window and into the city. After relieving yourself, of course. You’re not a fucking pigeon. Once you’ve used the toilet, you head back out into your living room and open the window to your fourth-floor apartment. The cool night air rushes in and your spine tingles in anticipation. The blood rushes out of your hands and feet. Are you really about to jump out a fourth-floor window?

  Yep. You leap out the window, grasp your body with your mind and carry yourself through the air with the power of thought. Arms spread out wide like a bird or a plane, you soar through the air, high up over the buildings. Moonlight glints off Mercury Bay in the distance.

  This is amazing! Far beyond exhilarating. Whatever fear of heights you may have had in the past melts away under the feeling of complete control. You fly around for another hour before mental exhaustion sets in.

  • Return to the apartment and fall into a deep, fatigue-induced sleep.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Spare Me the Spandex

  “I’m in!” Nick says.

  “Yeah, well, not me. You two have fun,” Catherine says, shaking her head.

  “With these powers we can help people,” you say. “How can you possibly turn your back on that?”

  Catherine folds her arms across her chest. “All I said was no capes and ka-pow! for me. I will do good with…with this gift. But punching criminals? Hell, as an intelligent, female Republican, I could be President within the next three election cycles.”

  Nick grins. “But if you’re suddenly intelligent, why are you still a Republican? Boom! Up top!” he puts his hand up for a high-five.

  Catherine simply sighs. “I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, but I wish you the best of luck. I really do.”

  “Well, at the very least, you’re the only one who knows what we can do—I need to know that you’re going to keep it to yourself,” you say.

  She glares at you now. “No worries there, champ. I’m no narc. You can go around crushing all the pots in Mercury City and I won’t say a peep.”

  By the time you leave Catherine’s, the sun has set. Your stomach gurgles fiercely.

  “Tomorrow, we get costumes, then we save the world.”

  Nick nods, his eyes groggy, and the two of you go your separate ways. After you’ve stuffed yourself with more food than you thought you could eat, sleep comes quickly.

  * * *

  The next morning, after an all-you-can-eat brunch, you meet Nick at a downtown costume shop. A mannequin dressed as the Phantom of the Opera greets you outside the downtown costume shop and a chime goes off as you enter. “Can I help you?” the store clerk asks.

  “We’re just browsing,” you say. Then, considering what your new appetite has done to your budget, you add, “Do you have a clearance section?”

  The clerk—who wears all-black and has orange/bleached hair—leads you toward the back of the store. The cheapest costumes are simple t-shirts, from the “ironic” tuxedo print to the classic skeleton-on-black-tee pattern. One rack holds a set of superhero shirts; a Superman design catches your eye. That ought to advertise the super-strength!

  “What do you think?” you ask, holding it up. “Maybe I can write BER on one side of the ‘S’ and ERK on the other and call myself Berserk?”

  Nick looks across the aisle and shakes his head. “Very douchebag frat. Besides, isn’t the point to hide our identities?”

  “I could put some glasses on.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Good point,” you say, before putting the shirt back.

  A minute later Nick comes around the corner dressed like a giant yellow Twinkie with miner goggles on. “Get it? I can be Minion because I’m sort of like your sidekick.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Uhhh, I said ‘get it’ first. That means it’s a joke.”

  You turn to the clerk. “Do you have any partner costumes?”

  “Like couples stuff?” he asks, scratching his nose near a piercing.

  “No,” you say in unison with Nick.

  “Well, if you want to stick in clearance, the Breaking Bad was very hip last year.”

  He shows you to a mannequin in a full-body hazmat suit, rubber boots and gloves, a breathing mask covering the face and eyes. It’s a high-quality costume; even the mask is functional.

  “Not a bad look if we want to ‘clean up’ town,” Nick says.

  “It’s currently on a buy-one get-one sale,” the clerk adds.

  “We’ll take it,” you say.

  • Pay, suit up, and hit the streets! Something is bound to pop up.

  • While you’re at it, ask the clerk if he knows where you can find some crime.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Splitting Headache

  “I’ll hit the casino, you two do the yacht.”

  “No way!” Catherine growls. “The casino was my idea. I seriously doubt he’s on the boat, and I’m going to be there when Bloodnight goes down. You gave me your word.”

  “Also,” Nick says, raising his hand. “I want to go with you. No offense, Catherine.”

  “Fine, I’ll take the agent.”

  “What? No, I’m staying here to coordinate. You might need law enforcement backup and—”

  “We get it, you’re the Shadow-hand,” Nick says. “Besides, you need to be able to deny involvement, right? In case things go wrong?”

  “Well…” Droakam says, looking away.

  “What a bunch of cowards I’ve teamed up with,” Catherine says.

  The three of them erupt in a confabulation of argument, and you can’t even get a word in edgewise. “ENOUGH!!!” you shout, loud enough to rattle the crates on the shelves. All eyes turn toward you.

  You say, “Fine, we’re not splitting up. All three of us are going to…”

  • �
�The Son of Jupiter. They took the blood samples to the yacht, so we’re at least getting those back.”

  • “The Planet Mercury Casino. Even if he’s not there, we’re letting the public know that he’s a target.”

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Still a Fairly Tall Building….

  You join the team and hand over your portal-creating staff of awesomeness. The Experi-mentor doesn’t just hide it—he pulverizes it. Guess he’s pretty paranoid at the thought of one of his creations stealing the device and running amok through the multiverse. Speaking of paranoid thoughts, you’re fairly certain there’s another presence inside your mind while you’re working. Maybe some kind of telepathic monitor? Granted, you could create another staff anytime you felt like it, so you write it off as just another layer of precaution on the scientist’s part.

  Still, this is a pretty sweet gig. You’re designing new superhumans! Guys who can talk to dolphins? Check. Climate Warriors who put the earth back in balance? Check. Everything from people who can build new homes with their bare, superhuman hands, to people who can predict and prevent future catastrophes.

  You win…mostly. Life is grand for most of humanity, especially as more and more of them join the ranks of superhumanity. But, eventually, it starts to become a “no one is special because everyone is special” kind of world. It’s not the worst thing that could happen, but you can’t help but ask yourself “What if?” Could you have done more good in the world you forsake?

  THE END

  Super Apathy

  You can hear the woman’s screams turn into gurgles as you round the corner away from the scene. Poor life choices, toots. I’m not getting stabbed just because you thought it was cool to cut classes and found a quick way to make a few bucks.

  Sirens suddenly echo off the surrounding buildings drawing your attention up ahead: An entire floor of a skyscraper is ablaze. Thirteen stories up, black smoke billows out and curls up the sides of the building.

  “There’s someone up there!” a tourist shouts, lowering his binoculars against his travel vest. “He’s gonna jump.”

  • There may be a crowd, but I’m the only one who can save him!

  • Gross. I don’t want to be around to see that.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Super-Fiends

  You rush back to the warehouse HQ, Nick and Catherine trailing on your heels. With brash intensity, you smash through the warehouse doors, ignoring Catherine’s cries for discreet action. But what awaits you inside brings you to a screeching halt.

  “Now that’s how you make an entrance!” a familiar man’s voice calls out.

  Agent Droakam sits bloodied and tied to a chair, while the man stands nearby with a hand on the agent’s shoulder. The man’s white lab coat flutters open to reveal an “Ex” emblazoned on his chest.

  “The Experi-mentor?” Nick says, entering the warehouse, his voice dry from shock.

  “So we meet again!” the scientist says with a grin.

  Behind him stand 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.

  “Allow me to introduce you to Ms. Su-Young and Misters Stockton, Halifax, and—”

  “Nelson Bloodnight,” Catherine growls.

  The casino boss simply tugs down on the brim of his hat, grinning like an imp.

  “You’re working with them?” you say.

  “My experiments aren’t cheap,” the scientist says. “Or legal, strictly speaking. I lost everything in that explosion and Mr. Bloodnight was all too happy to step in as my benefactor. Although, ‘lost everything’ isn’t quite accurate, is it? I still have you, my magnificent creations!”

  “Why didn’t you come to us? Agent Droakam has a whole division of the FBI devoted to superhumans. You could have worked with us, not against us.”

  “In another life, perhaps. But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it? Besides, a division of the FBI is too small for my way of thinking. No, we shall rule over this world as gods, and Mercury City shall be our new Pantheopolis!” The whole room looks at his manic outburst with astonishment. He smiles, then continues more reasonably, “I know, the first rule of being a supervillain is ‘never tell the heroes your plan,’ but I’m hoping you won’t be swayed by one man’s jingoistic wet dreams.”

  He pats Agent Droakam on the shoulder. “Go to hell,” the agent says.

  The Experi-mentor laughs with glee. Evil glee.

  “You really have no idea what you’re up against, do you?” Nick says. “WMD here will eat you guys for breakfast. Literally. Bullets don’t scare us any more than threats.”

  “Au contraire, mon frère! I’ve been a busy beaver, and damned if I haven’t re-created the experiment results. I couldn’t have done it so quickly without your blood samples, of course. Each of my friends here a have a brand-spanking-new superpower derived from your blood, WMD, if that’s what you insist on calling yourself. Don’t feel too bad, Nikolai, round two will be based on your sample.”

  “It’s ’Murica,” Nick says. “And you’ll never get away with this.”

  Nelson Bloodnight steps forward. “We already have. Join us…or die.”

  What will happen? Will our heroes falter in their resolve? Will The Experi-mentor achieve his mad-scientist goals? And if it comes to blows, what fantastical new powers might these villains possess? What manner of deadly fate awaits The Freedom Fighters? Find out next time on…SUPERPOWERED!

  For no particular reason other than to have a cliffhanger:

  Click to Continue!

  Superior Intel(lect)

  Faster and faster you fly, until the wind proves too powerful. Your eyes are streaming tears and you can barely see where you’re going. This is like driving seventy miles-per-hour on the interstate with your head out the window.

  Barreling in on the bank, you bring your hands together and focus all your psychic energy on a sudden stop. The resultant sonic clap sends a shockwave across the pavement. Onlookers fall off their feet. Well, that was cool.

  You slowly descend to the pavement as the crowd rises. Cell phones and video cameras all on you.

  “Stay where you are!” a voice booms over a megaphone. It’s Sergeant Wilson, the policeman who brought you to the station, and his mouth goes slack when he recognizes you. He puts out a hand to stop the other patrolmen, but their hands stay close to their service weapons.

  “What do you want?” he asks cautiously.

  “I’m here to help. Remember that FBI agent? He’s en route. We’re here to bring that woman in the costume back with us.”

  “Be my guest!” he says, shaking his head.

  A squeal of car tires draws your attention back to the police barricade. Agent Droakam hops out of his black government SUV and rushes over. “What’s the situation?” he asks.

  “Hostages are still inside. Some woman in a mask ran in about ten mike ago. We haven’t heard gunfire for a few minutes, but we’re waiting for clearance,” Wilson says.

  “Let us handle it first,” you say.

  Agent Droakam nods. “The woman comes with us; if there are any bank robbers left, they’re all yours.”

  “Pal, if you’re taking responsibility, have at it. We want nothing to do with whatever the hell’s going on here.”

  The crowd erupts with cheers. The three of you look to the front of the bank, where hostages stream out and into the arms of EMTs and crisis-relief personnel. Then you see Catherine in her Diamond costume, dragging four bank robbers—two in each hand—out the front of the bank. 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!” Catherine roars. She moves through the barricades and the police respond n
ervously—weapons drawn in an uncertain showdown.

  “Stay where you are!” Droakam commands.

  She lifts a car overhead with incredible ease. “Nick warned me that you’d come. Can’t handle a real hero, can you?”

  “Nick did what?” you cry out.

  “We’re here to help, Catherine. You’re a danger to yourself and those around you,” Droakam says.

  She shakes her head, almost sad. “Catch.”

  The car comes flying.

  • Shove him out of the way.

  • Evade the car yourself, then bring her to justice yourself.

  • Catch the car using your powers.

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  Super Murder!

  The man screams as you release him, and he falls to his death. You close your eyes and cover your ears to keep from hearing him slap against the pavement. Damn, this whole power business is much harder than you’d have thought. How do all those masked comic book—

  Your heart stops. Masked. Here you are floating in the open air with your mug for all those cameras to see. And after you dropped a man to his death, no less.

  • As a known murderer, I guess I’m a super-villain by default. Works for me.

  • I gotta get out of here!

  MAKE YOUR CHOICE

  That Smarts

  “Wrong answer, genius,” Nick says with a grin.

  Catherine throws back her hood, and hatred shines out. “You think a casino boss like Nelson Bloodnight would give away his money just to be nice? This display is here for one reason and one reason only.”

  “They fear us,” Nick says. “You think being on the side of the law is the same as being on the side of right? We’ll clean up this town—starting with the one-percenters.”