by Matt Carter
“Thanks,” I whimpered, still trying to get that ringing out of my ears so I could fully absorb just what was happening.
She started rocking her hips. I didn’t know if I was supposed to move or stay still. I was feeling good, mostly, but I wasn’t used to my dick being stuck at this angle and it kind of hurt. Feeling more and more awkward as I just lay there, I grabbed onto her hips and tried arching into her fast and hard like I’d seen online.
This didn’t do either of us any good.
She pinned me down, slowing my thrusting. “You’ve got a lot to learn. Just take it easy. This is supposed to be fun.”
“I’m having fun!” I said, falling back into her cloak as, too soon, I erupted inside of her.
My world went black as it felt like I was completely drained.
So that was sex. Cool.
I thought I was finished, but I wasn’t. She rolled off of me, telling me to help her out so she could finish. Her fingers occupied her pussy pretty effectively, but I played with her boobs some more, stroking, pinching, and sucking until she came too.
Panting, she looked up at me. “Never leave a girl unsatisfied; you’ll look like an asshole. Leave one with superpowers unsatisfied, you’re liable to wind up dead.”
“Good safety tip,” was all I could think to say.
Rolling off the stained and dirty cloak, she started to gather up her clothes. “Come on. We should get dressed before people start to miss us.”
“So, we’re finished?” I asked. I thought there were supposed to be a lot more positions involved.
“You are,” she said, pulling her panties back on.
“I guess…” I said, looking around. “Thanks.”
“Don’t get all mushy, at least emotionally, Aidan. It was just sex.”
“So… we’re still friends, right?”
“If you want to be,” she shrugged. I couldn’t tell, but I think this time she was the one hiding something in her voice.
“I do,” I said. “Think we can try that again sometime?”
“Maybe,” she said, laughing softly. “Let’s see how tomorrow goes.”
“Sure,” I said. “Say, have you seen my pants?”
She laughed more loudly. “You blew them off in a fit of passion. Which I guess I should take as a compliment.”
She might have taken it as a compliment. I took it as a guy with a shrinking, sticky penis having to walk pantsless—and underwearless—across a dark stretch of Death Island into a camp of supervillains. Only one word seemed adequate to sum up that problem.
“Fuck.”
#Supervillainy101: El Capitán & Edward Edge
They say that if you’re a norm, you dream of being a super, and if you’re a super, you dream of being a Titan, and if you’re a Titan, you dream of being El Capitán.
The world’s seventeenth confirmed Titan, El Capitán is considered America’s, and often the world’s, greatest hero. While many of the Titans have used their near-limitless strength, invulnerability, and myriad other powers to create an elite and aloof clique of supers, El Capitán has always fought for the little guy. Growing up poor in Baja California (before it was added as our fifty-eighth state, mostly at his request), he knew hardship that most heroes never would and vowed to fight injustice however he could. Upon discovering his status as a Titan, he donned his trademark red, green, and gold luchador outfit and immigrated north, joining the United States in World War II and almost single-handedly repelling a joint Canadian-Lemurian invasion from the north. His constant charity work and efforts during the War on Villainy are seen as a beacon of American virtue.
And he probably wouldn’t have made it that far if he didn’t have his archnemesis.
Millionaire industrialist and inventor Edward Edge, founder of Edge Industries and all its subsidiaries (there’s at least a 70 percent chance they made the e-reader you’re reading this on), was one of the greatest voices in the anti-super movement of the late 30s and early 40s. Seeing them as a menace to American life, he led a public campaign to discredit them, and a private campaign to have them killed, mostly to keep his vast and secretive criminal empire profitable. El Capitán was his number one target, and though the two fought many times over the decades, neither could truly win. Nothing Edge tried could kill El Capitán (though he came close on a few occasions), and he was so good at covering his tracks that El Capitán could never get enough evidence to imprison him. On his deathbed, Edge summoned the media and El Capitán to make a full confession, stating that he wouldn’t have been as great a villain if it weren’t for the hero.
The last thing he heard before dying was El Capitán admitting the same.
Of course, being one of the world’s greatest supervillains, Edge wouldn’t let El Capitán get the last word. Moments after he died, a pacemaker installed in Edge’s heart sent a signal to a bomb planted in the newspaper office where El Capitán’s girlfriend worked, killing everyone inside.
The epitaph on Edward Edge’s memorial simply read, “I won.”
#LessonLearned: Nothing brings greatness like a good archnemesis.
10
ARCHNEMESIS DAY
The world looks a whole lot different after you’ve gotten laid. It’s like there’s a switch that goes off that just gives you hope that things just aren’t as bad as they previously seemed… or maybe that all comes from knowing you’re not going to die a virgin.
I didn’t know where Ghost Girl’s head was, since we didn’t have a lot of time to talk before we had to sleep. I did know that I was still riding pretty high when Blackjack’s voice came over the loudspeakers at four in the morning, telling us all to wake up and get dressed.
Get dressed at four? Sure, why the hell not?
I wasn’t a virgin anymore. I was a man. I could do anything.
Whatever we were doing, it wasn’t too formal; they’d delivered street clothes on top of our foot lockers. I recognized the t-shirt, jeans, shoes, and socks as my own.
We got dressed in silence, the others nervous and excited and fearful, and maybe I had some of that too, but it wasn’t what I was focusing on. For the first time since I’d gotten here, I had complete confidence.
That lasted until I heard the announcement.
“Apex Strike, report to the mess hall ASAP!” Blackjack barked over the loudspeaker.
I walked through the men’s barrack, getting some best wishes, some glares, and a very hungover growl from Carnivore as I walked to my final test. My shakes returned more the closer I got to the mess hall.
Are they going to send you to the Tower? Is that why they gave you street clothes? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe they’re letting you go? Wait, why the hell would they do that? Now you’re really thinking crazy.
I finally stopped my hands from shaking when I opened the mess hall door.
Blackjack sat on one of the hall’s long tables, an open Tri-Hole floating a foot off the ground next to her. Instead of her usual cigar, this morning she was chewing on a Hot Pocket.
“Mornin’, Apex Strike,” she said conversationally, wiping melted cheese from her chin with the back of her hand, then wiping it on the table.
“Good morning, ma’am,” I said, walking to meet her only when she waved a hand.
“Don’t gimme any of that ma’am shit today, boy. There’s a fifty-fifty chance we’re gonna be coworkers at the end of the day. Why not just try calling me Blackjack?”
“Okay… Blackjack,” I said, trying not to sound too terribly awkward about it.
“You know what? You kinda remind me of me before I got cursed,” she said, smiling wryly.
“Thanks?”
“No. Not really. Before I was as immortal as a Titan, I was a pretty girl who was more concerned with what my daddy thought and impressing some high-society gents and stayin’ pretty and clean and rich and safe. For a while after my curse, I thought things could stay the same, but they couldn’t. Nothing ever stays the same when this life chooses you, no matter how much
you try,” she said, her voice sounding tired. She pulled a flask from her jacket and took a hit, then tipped it to me.
“It’s not even, like, five in the morning,” I said.
“Trust me, today, you’re gonna need it.”
Fair enough. I took a quick hit of her flask. It tasted of burning and Hot Pockets. I coughed, spitting half of it out, which got her to crack a smile.
“That’ll put hair on your balls,” she said, taking another long swig and pocketing it. “On the other side of that Tri-Hole is your final test. This one’s not like any other you’ve done before. Just gonna be one-on-one, you and a hero, trying to see if you’ve got what it takes to be archnemeses. You’ll spend the day together and if they think you hit it off enough, you’re on the team. Think of it like a first date, except if you fail here you don’t go home with blue balls and a black eye, but rather a one-way ticket to the Tower for eternity.”
Miles and miles of smiles…
That wasn’t really comforting, though, come to think of it, I was pretty sure she didn’t mean it to be.
“I’ve never been on a first date before,” I said.
“It shows,” Blackjack said. “Just don’t be a pussy. And don’t fuck up.”
“Thanks,” I said. I gulped, flexing my hands and trying not to let the nervous energy take over.
“Look, kid. You did this to yourself, but life’s still given you a raw deal. It’s shitty, but try and make the most of it. If this is the start of a new life, remember what this last day of being you is like. If it’s your last day of freedom, just enjoy it for all it’s worth, you hear me?”
I did hear her. I didn’t like it, but I heard it, and if I wasn’t mistaken, that almost sounded like concern.
I was going to spend a day with a superhero, trying to impress them and get them to like me so I could convince them to let me on the team. If I’d had the confidence and ability to make a good first impression, I wouldn’t have been here in the first place! I’d be back home, with more friends and maybe even a fighting chance of fucking Kelly Shingle (not that I had any complaints about what Ghost Girl and I did the night before).
Maybe that was why Blackjack finally had to push me through.
I’d teleported a couple times when Odigjod was trying to perfect teleporting an extra person with him, but that was instantaneous and kind of fun if you didn’t mind smelling like brimstone for fifteen minutes after.
Teleporting through a Tri-Hole was like being flung through the air by my own powers: flying out of control through a bright green tunnel of glowing energy, loud, piercing sounds, like the screams of the damned that Odigjod sometimes summoned during tests, only mechanical and trying to get under my skin. I didn’t like traveling through a Tri-Hole; I couldn’t see how the heroes did this every day.
I was probably only in the tunnel for fifteen seconds or so, but it felt like twenty minutes had passed before I could see the light at the end. The piercing shrieks got louder, I was moving faster, and by the time I started screaming I couldn’t even hear myself.
Then I slammed face-first into white sand.
I could hear the ocean, and some seagulls, and not too far off the faint sound of rock music and people laughing. I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of sand.
“First time Tri-Holing? Blackjack should have warned you about the landing, but she enjoys being a bitch sometimes. Want a donut?”
The man who stood beside me was maybe ten years older, tall, handsome, and blond, in a button-down white silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up, faded jeans, and designer sunglasses. True to his word, he carried a bag of fresh donuts that smelled damn good.
His brilliant white smile, wavy, perfectly slicked-back hair, and slight—but not too heavy—tan made him look like every Hollywood director’s dream of California, which would explain how he kept getting cast in parts like that.
“Helios?”
He laughed, reaching out and helping me to my feet. “Please, it’s my day off; I’m just Adam Archer. Call me Adam. And have a donut, they’re fresh, and really good.”
I’d never had a celebrity ask me to address them by their first name before… or offer me a donut.
I got the feeling that this would be a day of firsts.
I took the donut he offered me. He was right, it was good.
“We gotta watch our calories in this business, but if we can’t treat ourselves occasionally, what’s the point?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“That’s all right, you’ll learn,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “Look, we’ve got a busy day ahead of us, and even with all the Tri-Holing it won’t take long for the paparazzi to find us, so if anyone asks, you’re training as my new personal assistant, and if you’re going to be doing that, you gotta look the part.”
He reached into his pocket and tossed me a pair of sunglasses that matched his. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they cost more than my mom’s SUV.
“Where are we?”
“Southern California. I always like to spend at least a few minutes by the ocean when I’ve got free time, and of course… today we’ve got an extra bonus I wanted to show you,” he said, pointing out to sea.
I finally looked out to the ocean and saw what he meant. A few miles offshore, hovering a couple hundred feet off the water, was an artificial island covered in high-tech, futuristic buildings.
“The Pearl!” I exclaimed.
“The one and only.”
The Pearl was designed by the Gamemaster, Caveman, and ATHENA back in the earliest days of the War on Villainy as a mobile base of operations for the Protectors. Its armament and mobility made it a decisive factor in many battles, though it has since become more of a tourist destination, hovering up and down the West Coast. I’d always wanted to see it in person, but never thought I’d have the chance.
“I remember the first time I saw it in person. I was a few years younger than you, I think, before I’d gotten any of my powers, and I just had this thought. I knew that someday, I’d call that place home. And while I won’t say I call it home now, it is a pretty awesome place to work. Walk with me.”
This was too much to take in. Seeing The Pearl? Helios wanting to be my archnemesis? I was convinced that he hated me after I killed his friend, Icicle Man.
He guided me away from the beach and to the boardwalk. It was still early in the morning and most of the businesses were closed, but there were enough oddballs and street performers setting up shop for the day to justify everything weird I’d heard about California. A gene-job with quills covering half his face offered to melt into a puddle for five dollars. A few missionaries from New R’lyeh handed us pamphlets praising the glories of the Great Old Ones; we threw them out at the nearest trash can.
This was all too much. I had to ask, “Why me?”
“Because I see the potential for greatness in you, Aidan,” he said without hesitation.
“Really?” I asked. Greatness and me were two concepts I don’t think anyone had seriously put in the same sentence before.
“Of course! I wouldn’t have asked you here if I didn’t believe you could be one of the greatest supervillains ever. God knows I wouldn’t want just anyone to be my archnemesis; I got an image to maintain,” he said with a chuckle.
“Well, sure.”
“And, while you may not be the bravest, or the most powerful, you know how to work a crowd, and you really know how to follow orders. Every one of the other villains with you, they talk back, they question us, they plot against us, but you’ve never once argued, because you understand the importance of what we do, don’t you?”
It wasn’t so much that I understood the importance of the plan as I didn’t want to be sent to the Tower, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Of course!”
“See, I knew the other heroes were wrong. You aren’t stupid,” he said, smiling.
“They think I’m stupid?”
He laughed. “I’m not gonna nam
e names, don’t want any more Icicle Man problems, do we?”
“No, we don’t,” I said, casting my eyes down. Now we got to the real point of the day. “I’m really sorry about that. It was an accident. I know you guys were friends, and—”
He brushed the thought off. “Icicle Man was dangerous and a pervert and you did the world a favor. You also did the Protectors a favor by killing him before any of that went public, so, really, we should be thanking you.”
“No problem,” I said, relief hitting me in a wave.
“You ever been fitted for a suit?”
“No.”
He pulled a Tri-Hole controller from his pocket and opened one up before us.
“Then this will be new for you,” he said, grinning.
The second trip through the Tri-Hole was a lot easier than the first, though this may have come from Helios being there to catch me upon exiting. We were in a nice suit shop in San Francisco (according to Helios), and it seemed like we were expected, even though it must have been way before business hours. Tailors flocked over to take my measurements like vultures.
“Before all this, did you know what you wanted to do with your life?” I looked at the tailors questioningly. Helios continued, “Don’t worry about them. They’re cool.”
“No, I didn’t. I guess I would have gone to college, but I didn’t have any plans, really. I wasn’t special then.”
“Hey, don’t let me hear that. Everyone is special, even the norms. I mean it’s true that some of us are more special than others, but everyone has something to offer the world. It just takes some of us longer than others to figure out just what that is. You’re lucky, really. I’ve got friends in their thirties who don’t know what they want to do with their lives. Figuring out that you wanted to be a supervillain when you were just eighteen, that’s damned impressive.” I couldn’t help but swell with pride at the thought. Helios had never been one of my favorite heroes, or even one of the most recognizable (he was B-List, on the cusp of breaking into the A-List), but I was beginning to regret not giving him more credit.
“Well, it seemed like the right thing for me to do…” I said, allowing myself a casual shrug.
