Villains Pride (The Shadow Master Book 2)

by M. K. Gibson

  I leaned back in my chair in my command center with my arm over my eyes. I was exhausted. Even with my godly power replenishing me and keeping sleep at bay, the body had limits.

  “So where do we stand?” I asked my minions.

  “With what you’ve accomplished, the Cricket Kid, Superior Man, and The Night Watchman will never exist,” Myst said. “I did as you instructed. I broke into the CDC and retrieved the chemicals needed for the Variant-gene-suppressing formula. After which I mass replicated the formula and had it added to all the secret government chemtrails sprayed on the populace by overhead airlines. All Variants will be returned to their human form, and all humans will now carry a Variant gene suppressor.”

  “Good.”

  “How did you know about the chemtrails?” Myst asked.

  “From the Prime Universe,” I said wearily. “I help several companies disperse anxiety- and depression-causing agents into the air. What, do you think the forty percent increase in prescription medication came from cell phones? Well, it did a little. But airborne chemical dispersal ensures big pharma, and I, get paid.”

  “Wow. That’s . . . villainous.”

  “Thank you,” I said as I sat forward at my desk. I lit a cigarette and took a sip of my coffee. “Wraith Knight.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “First, thank you for expertly completing your special assignment. I honestly could not accomplish all of this without what you did.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now, what about that elemental-powered supergroup I tasked you with? Did you disable their computer system so their navigation system steered them away from the solar storm that bombarded them with whatever-the-fuck space-ray contrivance?”

  “No, Master, I did not.”

  The lights in the command center dimmed and the computer monitor screens began to scramble from the interference. Wraith Knight fell to his knees, grasping at his throat. Not only was my will cutting off his windpipe, but I was slowing the blood getting to his brain as well. He would be dead in about seven seconds.

  Vader had so much promise, but limited vision.

  “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  “M-master, I-I couldn’t a-access their system. So . . . I . . . I . . .”

  “You what?”

  “Put . . . hole . . . engine . . . rocket . . . exploded . . . they’re . . . dead.”

  “Oh,” I said, releasing my hold on Wraith Knight. “Well then, well done.”

  I used my power to pick Wraith Knight up and even made a green lollipop appear in his hand.

  I tapped open a master list on my tablet, which was then transferred to the main screen. “With those twerps out of commission, that removes a major power. Let’s see, who else is dealt with. Amazonia?”

  “Tsunami destroyed her and her island,” Myst said, looking at her notes.

  “What about that aquatic queen of the deep? What’s her name, the chick-who-talks-to-fish?”

  “Tsunami, sir,” Myst smiled. “I already said that. I incited a war between the two with a little toxic waste dumping.”

  “Two birds, one stone. I’m impressed. How about that big muscled chap, The Rage?”

  “When I eliminated the scientist Insectoid, I took his shrinking formula. So, I took care of The Rage,” Wraith Knight said.

  “Took care of him?”

  Wraith Knight reached into his armor and produced a small vial. Inside was a little gray engine of destruction.

  “The Rage break you all!!!” the quarter-inch hero bellowed in an impish voice. It was almost adorable.

  “I thought he’d make a cute pet.”

  “Let me see that,” I said, holding my hand out.

  Wraith Knight passed me the miniature hero. I shook the vial until the creature inside was a good and angry. It threatened to kill me, which was all I needed to hear. I set it on the ground and brought my heel down hard, breaking the vial and splattering the contents.

  “What have I told you before?” I asked.

  “No pets,” Wraith Knight said sheepishly.

  “Exactly.”

  “So, with those major players out of the way, what happens next?” Myst asked, studying the screen. As she did, several more heroes were suddenly crossed off the list with bright red “X” icons over them. “Whoa, what’s that?”

  “My other operatives.” I smiled. “They never disappoint, and they are quite thorough. I am a really big fan of their work.”

  Name after name was soon crossed off the list. Dr. Obscure, The Emerald Bow, Hard Light, The Streak, The Frozen Soldier, Golden Lioness, Augment, and even that mallet-wielding deity with the Australian accent.

  I even took the opportunity to pop into a couple adjacent universes to off those would-be villains who were really antiheroes, the D-List power suit fellow, and that pop-culture-spouting fellow with the talking cloak. Barry? Harry. Mary? Meh. They’re dead, so why bother remembering?

  As the names of the deceased flashed with the red “X”, I felt the tremors begin. My godly sense began to tingle. Like the beginning of a sneeze, I felt the wave of power swell, preparing to break forth.

  “Myst, now! Monitor the systems!” I commanded.

  “On it, boss,” Myst said, leaping over the chair to her station in the command center.

  My embassy rumbled and shook. I felt the world shift around me as the reboot rewrote the code of reality. This time the power of the transition affected me worse than ever before. I fell to my knees. Blood poured from my nose and the vertigo made my head spin. I fought the urge to vomit as wave after wave of nausea passed through me.

  Several long minutes later, the pain abated. When I felt like I could stand, I rose on wobbly legs. I picked up my coffee and took another sip, followed by another cigarette.

  “Did you find the signal?” I asked weakly.

  “Look for yourself, sir,” Myst said, pointing to the screen.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the readout on the monitor and smiled. “It’s far weaker than before. Good.”

  “What about this other signal, sir?” Myst asked. “It looks as if there is an odd power signature around that weaker one. And this third one? Overlapping, maybe?”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  Wraith Knight was standing by another set of monitors. He was clicking through various feeds from the new rebooted universe.

  “What do you think, Master?”

  Setting my coffee down, I stepped to Wraith Knight and looked over his shoulder. With each click of his armored hand, I saw a new view of Dynasty City and the world at large. It didn’t take long for me figure out what we were seeing. And while I predicted it, I still shook my head in disgust.

  “What’s the problem, sir?” Myst asked.

  I left Wraith Knight to continue his clicking and went back to my desk. I lit another cigarette, noting that my smoking habit was getting worse. Was I actually succumbing to stress like a—gasp—regular person? Sigh. Next thing you know I’d be on a psychiatrist’s couch talking about how I didn’t feel appreciated by my partner, the fear of impending fatherhood, and whatever else it was you normies bitch about to get a Zoloft prescription.

  Pushing my feelings down deep where they belonged, I collected my thoughts and focused on the issue at hand.

  “My dear minions, there are few things in storytelling as wrote, contrived, hackneyed, and stilted as what we are witnessing. What you are seeing is the low-hanging fruit for artistic types with mental deficiencies. The brainchild of trench coat kids, internet trolls, and studio executives alike. People who think all media is best and pure when everything is grim and dark, reflecting their withered souls. A place of shattered dreams, painful backstories, and decisions that usually result in shades of shit. This, dear minions, is a gritty reboot.”

  “Is that bad?” Wraith Knight asked.

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “For what I have planned, it’s perfect. But for any reader or movie viewer whose I
Q is above their shoe size, yes,” I said with all the dismissive intent of a twenty-something asshole who believes all their opinions are facts. “I swear, all this bullshit brooding and unearned seriousness is the wet dream of a vampire LARPer.”

  Vampire LARPers of the world, I apologize for calling you out. But come on. You’re basically lazy steampunk enthusiasts. At least those Victorian-age, Nerf-gun-painting, waistcoat-sporting, goggle-wearing chaps put effort into their ensemble beyond a Hot Topic trip and an Anita Blake boner.

  “I used to pay a Malkavian back in college,” Wraith Knight said under his breath.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Go stand in the corner.”

  “Sir, it was just a game and I—”

  “GO!” I commanded. “I bet you wish you could obfuscate right about now, huh?!”

  “Yes, Master.” Wraith Knight said, moving to the corner of the office to stand.

  A LARPer. In my own employ, no less!

  Henchers. You try and raise them right. I blame Geek and Sundry and that former adult film star-turned-GM.

  “And what exactly do you have planned?” Myst asked, distracting my ire from Wraith Knight’s revelation.

  “Simple,” I said, turning my attention to my non-nerdy hencher. “I plan on starting a war.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Where It Feels Like Deja Vu All Over Again

  “Does this feel familiar to you?” Eva Destruction said to the rest of Misdirection.

  “I am getting this weird ‘we’ve been here before’ vibe,” Faye Tality said, nodding.

  “Something to do with . . . a bomb?” Ms. Calculated added. “Have we been here before?”

  Ms. Defy snorted at her team. “You all are overreacting to the sheer number of villains in one place. Calm down and keep your ears open.”

  “Defy’s right,” Ms. Chievous said, then paused. “But just in case, let’s move back a few rows.”

  From atop the dais I smiled, watching the female supervillain team get up and look about with both caution and curiosity. They, like many of the villains gathered in my auditorium, were suffering from a bout of temporal echos.

  I know it doesn’t really make sense outside of the sci-fi and fantasy realms, but things done in a parallel dimension can cause a resonance people pick up on. It’s why you get that “I’ve done this before” vibe from time to time. Because you did. Or another version of you, that is.

  In this new gritty reboot universe, the world was very much like how it was when I first arrived in Dynasty City, with the cast of heroes and villains mostly the same. Only with the tragic backstories and angst dialed up to eleven. Poverty, anger, revenge, brooding, and dead parents galore. Hmm, pretty much like every Dungeons and Dragons PC ever.

  This time around, though, the world’s colors were muted. The air was darker. The buildings weren’t as bright and had a slight gray-wash, crumbling feel to them. The citizens were more jaded, emitting a “back off” vibe as they walked through their perpetual personal clouds of “pissed-mist.”

  So it was like modern-day New York, London, or Seattle during the rainy season.

  Thankfully, manipulating these jaded assholes was just as easy as it was before. I sent Wraith Knight and Myst into the city to stir up talk about me in the criminal underground as soon as we settled into this new reality. Plus, a few of my secret agents were seen moving among the underbelly of the city, performing dark and notorious deeds in my name. It didn’t take long for the powers of the city to take notice and come running.

  As the villains arrived, Wraith Knight and Myst ensured that each of the villains signed in on the welcome sheet. It wasn’t hard to get them here. I had the word spread that I promised riches and power. Naturally, they suspected a trap, and between you and me, they were right to. Good thing these saps haven’t read the first half of this book, eh?

  “Thank you all for coming,” I said into the microphone. “My name is Jackson Blackwell, the Shadow Master. Last time we were here I led off with a joke that got a chuckle from everyone except Black Fathom.”

  The aquatic villain looked confused, as did the rest of the crowd. “Last time we were here?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said with a dismissive wave. “The short of it is, we’ve been here before, in a different plane of existence. And last time, we pointed out that no one cared about aquatic-based heroes and villains, seeing as they are the lowest of the low and pretty much a waste of genetic material.”

  Black Fathom looked crestfallen, but no one jumped to her aid.

  The truth hurts.

  “Wait, different plane of existence?” Mangler called out from the crowd. He looked confused beneath his now black luchador mask, as he rubbed at his arm without thinking.

  “I think he is talking about zee alternate realities,” Dr. Reality said in a German accent.

  “Yes . . . Doctor.” I said the word begrudgingly. “Something like that.”

  Last thing I needed to do was to fall into the Groundhog Day trope of repeating myself in an endless loop while I railed against the use of the title of “Doctor.”

  “While I think none of us here is unfamiliar with zee concept, if zis is indeed zee truth, then why tell us?” Dr. Reality asked.

  “A good question,” I nodded. “I bring you all here, as I did before, to offer you a way forward. A new glory for villain-kind. A way to bring all of us together and a way to once and for all defeat the heroes. In this new order, we villains will reign supreme.”

  That got some nods from the crowd, along with a few hoots of excitement. However, the good Dr. Reality was not so easily swayed.

  “Many villains have tried before you,” Dr. Reality said. “And you say you did zis all before? Yet you’re here. What happened in zis other world?” the doctor asked.

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I introduced a governing body of Overmind, The Wanderer, Fallen Angel, Magus, and Dr. Oblivion.”

  “Oblivion? Vat a hack,” Dr. Reality spat with contempt.

  “Oblivion hears you, worm!” Dr. Oblivion bellowed from his seat.

  “I vasn’t vispering, asshole!” Dr. Reality yelled back. “You vant to go?”

  “Oblivion shall crush you.”

  “Doctors, cease this immediately,” I ordered. “Now is not the time for your feud.”

  “Oblivion shall remember this.”

  “What happened after you introduced us?” Overmind said from his front-row seat. The villains behind him had a hard time seeing past his bulbous head.

  I smiled. “I blew you all up, threatened the rest of the audience, dropped the mic, and walked off the stage.”

  The room went silent.

  “No, really.” I chuckled. “Wanna see? Myst, would you cue the footage?”

  “You got it, sir,” Myst said from over the PA system.

  The lights dimmed and the villains began to murmur. A 3-D holo projection floated in the air, depicting the entire scene. I had the program run on a loop so that the gathered crows could watch, over and over, as five of the world’s top villains were killed.

  I wanted to turn it into a thumbnail GIF with a little word bubble of me saying “Oops” at the end. But I thought better of it. This was to be a formal meeting, after all.

  Oh, quick aside: The word is GIF, hard “G” as one would say “gift.” You cretins, to include the creator, who stalwartly defend GIF as “jiff” are pure and simple morons. The words are “get,” not “jet.” “Giving,” not “jiving.” “Gibson,” not “Jibson.”

  But what about “giraffe” or “Geoffrey”? Simple. Giraffes are nature’s abortion while Geoffrey is a child’s name for people who should have had one.

  But I digress.

  I grabbed the mic and walked off the stage and through the aisle, separating the auditorium. Floating above me, the recording showed the League of Evil dying over and over.

  “As you can see, it was one hell of a moment for me. And I’m not afraid to admit
, I’m more than a little proud. Hell, some mornings I use this as my daily affirmation. I watch it on repeat while I have my morning coffee.”

  I paused for a moment and looked over at Dr. Oblivion with a slight grin.

  “BOOM!”

  Dr. Oblivion jumped a good six inches from his chair, falling into the villains next to him.

  “I’m just messing with you. No, Doctor, I wouldn’t do the same trick twice. Well, that’s not true. I actually did the same trick to a bunch of heroes. I think I have a clip if you want to see it?”

  “Shadow Master?” Wraith Knight said from the stage.

  “Yes, right, stay on topic. Good henching there, WK. As I was saying, I could easily do it all over again. But what would be the point? I’m guessing that some of you here are thinking the footage is a fake. I know I would. But if you look deep inside yourselves, I think you’ll sense the truth in my words. As your own Doctor Reality pointed out, the many-worlds phenomenon is quite standard fare. True, Doctor?”

  “Ja,” Dr. Reality said, studying the footage. “Loath to admit, I believe zee footage to be truthful.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” I said. “Now, what I have planned will not sit well with most of you here. But I guarantee it will work.”

  “What is your grand plan?” Eva Destruction asked. “Something tells me that if you could do it on your own, you would have. You need something. Something from all of us.”

  “You are correct,” I admitted.

  “So out with it.”

  “Straight to the point. I like it.” I nodded. “I do need something from each of you. Several somethings, to be honest.”

  “What?” Dr. Oblivion asked as he continued to watch himself die.

  I made my way back to the dais and hopped up on the stage. Shuffling my notes on the lectern, I took my time, not saying anything at first. I took a moment to simply stare at the crowd while my mind raced, mapping out everything I had yet to accomplish.

  On cue, the holo-projection stopped, casting the room into complete darkness. A single spotlight flared to life, shining on me and me alone.

  “For what I have planned, I need your unquestionable obedience, and the utilization of your powers and abilities in ways you have not considered.”