Villains Pride (The Shadow Master Book 2)

by M. K. Gibson

My servant followed me through my office as we walked down the hall and down a flight of stairs. “Apologies for the shaky cam there, Randy. But your generation seems to really like the ‘realism’ amateur style that passes for filmmaking these days.”

  I walked through a set of double doors and into a dimly lit medical lab. On a pair of stainless steel tables, Gamma and Eta lay. They were both nude and strapped down, their chest cavities open and the tops of their skulls off, revealing pinkish-gray brain matter.

  And they were both still very much alive.

  Myst sat on a nearby table, her long legs crossed, smoking a cigarette, every inch of her the pin-up seductress. “Hey there, boss.”

  “Heya, babe. How are the patients? Comfortable? Any complaints?”

  “In misery, I assume. They keep asking to die.”

  “I don’t blame them,” I said, nodding. “They have been through hell. You see, Randy, once I had them back here I had their bodies opened up, and I was poking around trying to see what made them tick. If I could crack the code of how The Greek Chorus used their powers, then I could do the same. Sadly, when it comes to biology, I’m all thumbs. I’m like a guy poking at a car engine trying to figure out how to make it work. I may have made things worse.”

  “Oh, you certainly did,” Myst said. “The man wets himself whenever we turn on the microwave—odd because he hasn’t had anything to drink in a while.”

  “And the woman?” I asked.

  “Same thing,” Myst said, then frowned. “But not pee.”

  “Gross,” I said, looking at Eta. “But what do they say about eggs and omelets? I assume you figured out what happened next.”

  “Their powers are comic-book-universe-based,” Randy said, assessing the situation. “Godly as you are, you are not native to this world. Therefore, you could not duplicate the ability.”

  “Look at the big brain on Randy! Exactly. So I used those handy pills and put a portion of my power in these two willing subjects,” I said, pointing to Myst, who waved, and to Wraith Knight, who waved his armored hand in front of the camera.

  “I was hoping that as they were natives to this universe, by signing their souls over to me, I could use them as my proxies.”

  “Souls?” Wraith Knight asked.

  “Figure of speech,” I said with a dismissive wave, then winked at Myst. She understood. “Sadly, I could only empower them and protect them from being rebooted, unlike Trent, who only signed. But I knew I was on to something. That was when I stumbled upon the answer.”

  “Listen, Uncle, if this little meandering speech is going anywhere, could you please get there? I would very much like to get back to plotting your death.”

  I took a moment and truly marveled at my nephew. “How you ever came out of my sister, I will never know. Despite our direct conflict, there are times when I truly like you, Randy.”

  “Thank you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t one of them.”

  “Oh.”

  “As I was saying, it seemed I and I alone can do what I do. That’s when it hit me. If this universe really was a near mirror of the prime universe, and had a near infinite supply of realities, then there must be a few realities out there where a version of me existed. And since I had an army of evil super-geniuses, scanning the multiverse and opening a few portals was surprisingly easier than physics should allow. Comic books—gotta love them. WK’s secret mission was to find, well, me.”

  On queue, three more me’s walked into the frame. “Hey there ,Jackson Seventeen, Ninety-seven, and Thirty-three. Say hi to Randy, fellas.”

  “Hey Randy.”

  “Nephew.”

  “Eat a dick.”

  Man, we really have a way with words.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Where I Discuss the Consequences of Gravity and an Ill-Timed Monologue

  Randy’s fist cracked the screen of the monitor. “This is bullshit!”

  “Tell me—us—about it,” I agreed. “I open a few parallel realities, pull in a hundred or so me’s, use my memory uploading device, put a pill in there, and the next thing you know, boom, a whole lotta me’s. To include the one you killed. Poor Jackson Forty-nine. You know he owned a comic shop on his world? Poetic justice, not irony, was his enemy.” I shook my head, then motioned for Myst and Wraith Knight to follow. The extra Jacksons followed as well.

  My group followed me back upstairs while I continued my walk and talk with Randy. “But I agree with you. There is no universe where all this is fair. Well, perhaps the Never Realm. Yolly does enjoy screwing over his prisoners.”

  “So you got your army. That’s how you’re stopping the reboot.”

  I sat back down in my office chair and lit a black cigarette. “Yup. I have me’s deployed all over the world imposing reality, preventing your reboot. And let me tell you, it is not a pretty picture out there for superheroes. I assume you saw what happened on the beach during the hero war? Now imagine that level of chaos, everywhere.”

  I nodded to Myst, who tapped out a command on her console, importing video feeds to Randy’s monitor.

  Various video feeds from all over the world appeared. Bedroom scenes where super-strong women crushed the penises of their husbands mid-orgasm, and super-strong men crushed the pelvises of their partners. Speedsters stuck perceiving the world moving in incredible slow motion. Or running fast, their minds not able to comprehend it, and splattering on the first thing with more mass and density. People with the power of supersonic flight getting their eyes ripped out from wind shear.

  Everywhere, the reality of superpowers was settling in.

  “So what,” Randy said crossing his arms. “None of this matters to me. You’re little show is cute. It really is. Oooh, you really showed me. But uncle, aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “And what is that, Nephew?”

  “I have power over King Stanley. It’s how I allowed you access to your realm’s power. Well, guess what? I rescind that.”

  Immediately I felt it. The limitless power of my realm was now shut off. All I had left was what I was holding and whatever was stored in my pills, items, and tokens of power.

  “Soon, your duplicates will run out of power. Your imposed reality will fail. And I will force King Stanley to reboot the universe one more time. With that final act, he will be too weak to stop me from killing him and taking his place. All you’ve done is stall. And all I have to do is wait.”

  “Eat a dick!”

  I glared at Jackson Thirty-three. “Take a lap,” I commanded, pointing at the door. “I mean it, go on.”

  Thirty-three lowered his head and left my office. “Forgive him, he may have Tourrette’s. His reality was a little . . . eh?”

  “You’re still stalling,” Randy said with a smirk of triumph.

  “Yes, I am,” I said, smiling back.

  “What are you up to, Uncle?”

  “Me?” I asked, placing a hand on my chest. Laughter from Wraith Knight, Myst, and the other Jacksons could be heard from off camera. “Why, nothing, Nephew. You have beaten me. I am forever doomed. Oh, oh woe is me.”

  “Cut the crap.”

  “Tell you what, kid—why don’t you go topside of this prison and tell me what you think of the weather.”

  “What?”

  “The weather. It’s a simple request.”

  Randy glared at me then began to teleport away.

  Only he couldn’t.

  He tried again, and again, nothing happened. His eyes darted back to the screen. “Your reality field is blocking me.”

  “Of course it is, numbnuts. See, if you were a real god, you could bypass me, but you can’t, because you’re a usurper at best. But seriously, you may wanna run along up top. I think you’re going to want to see this. Oh, and take out your phone so we can continue this little chat.”

  “Fuck,” Randy cursed under his breath, then hauled ass away.

  A few minutes later, a panting Randy stood atop the Reef’s helipa
d, overlooking the sea.

  “OK, Uncle, I’m here. What am I looking for?” Randy asked, looking down at me through a video chat app on his phone. “The weather seems nice. A clear, sunny morning.”

  “That’s odd,” I said. “You sure you don’t see anything out of the norm?”

  Once again, Randy looked around. When he saw nothing on the horizon, he cast his eyes upward. And that was when he saw it.

  “The moon.”

  “What about the moon, Nephew?”

  “It shouldn’t be there. We’re well past the time when the moon would be out. And—it looks bigger than it should.”

  “You are the astute one. It is indeed bigger. Because I, and my other Jackson minions, are using our shadow powers to push the moon into the earth. A common comic universe plot device, sure. But effective. Once it hits, that’s it. Game over.”

  “That’s where you’ve been hiding,” Randy said, gritting his teeth. “The goddamn moon.”

  “Of course. You let me come here and act out my supervillain fantasies. See, what you may not know about your dear uncle is that as a child I had quite the comic collection, spanning well into my early adult life. I love the medium. So when I had the chance to come here, I jumped at it.”

  “But—but, Lydia. The baby.”

  “Oh, you had me at first. I’ll let your ego have that one. But I needed the vacation before the baby came to get my head straight. Of course I know my life will change with the child. And with some soul searching, I can’t wait for it! Fatherhood is an exciting challenge, and one I graciously accept. I get to raise a life. A child who, with proper guidance, can become anything he or she wants. Not another me. But a better version of me. It’s what all parents should aspire to do. Imagine what you could have been if you had had proper guidance. And if you weren’t such a little shit. Now, tell me, Nephew. What happens next? Why did I really deploy my legion of me’s?”

  Randy shook his head. “It’s a prison. Damn it. A prison designed to hold me here until the moon crashes. And when it does, I die.”

  I smiled. “And the lack of top-tier superheroes?”

  “Means even if I managed to somehow stop your reality field, there are no heroes powerful enough to stop the moon. And since I’m not the god of this universe, I can’t stop a cataclysmic event.”

  “No. You cannot.”

  “Wait!” Randy said, his mind racing. “If you’re on the moon, then you’ll die as well!”

  “Randy, are you an idiot?”

  “No.”

  “Then think it through. What was the only thing preventing me from returning to my universe whenever I wanted?”

  “The One’s edict.”

  “Exactly. And what did you do when you thought you killed me?”

  Randy hung his head. “I fucking monologued. I admitted my evil plan. Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!”

  “It’s OK. Even with all your raw talent, you’re still new to the game. Tropes are tropes for a reason. It’s why people read crap like this, then bitch about it in reviews. Thanks to your confession, the edict is lifted and I can leave whenever I want now. And, seeing as how the moon will soon be entering the earth’s gravitational pull very soon, a point where even I can’t stop it, you may want to release King Stanley.”

  Randy stood there, mulling it over.

  “Or fucking don’t.” I shrugged. “You die, Stanley dies with you, and guess who the closest god is to inherit this universe? Imagine what I could do with all that power.”

  Randy dropped the phone and focused his will. A nimbus of white energy began to glow around his chest. The energy grew brighter and brighter. A small rift in space-time opened and not one but two gods fell forth. Both deities, now free from Randy’s planar soul binding, stood on shaky legs. They looked angry and confused as they turned their attention towards their captor.

  “Hey! Down here,” I yelled from where Randy dropped his phone.

  Valliar picked up the phone while King Stanley turned on my nephew, grabbing him by the throat. Despite the size difference, Stanley had one hell of a godly grip.

  “Hello Valliar. Welcome back.”

  “Jackson.”

  “Man, you must hate that I was the one who rescued you. Don’t you?” I asked, waggling my eyebrows.

  “More than you could ever comprehend.”

  “Tell you what,” I said with a twinkle in my eye, “you can begin paying me back by taking care of my nephew. Don’t kill him yet, please; my sister would never let me hear the end of it. But other than that, have at the little bastard. I’m sure you have some pent-up frustration.”

  Valliar nodded. “Indeed. Would you care to watch?”

  “Is a pig’s ass pork? Just lean the phone so I can get a good view.”

  “And then we are even?”

  I barked a laugh. “HA! Oh no. No no no. This is only a beginning. You’ll be paying me back for quite a while.”

  Valliar sighed, but complied, propping Randy’s phone up as he joined King Stanley.

  “Jackson,” King Stanley called out over his shoulder while holding Randy aloft by his throat.

  “Yes?”

  “Please do me a couple of favors. First, would you be so kind as to not crush the earth with the moon.”

  I laughed. “Sure. We’re stopping the moon’s progress.”

  “Good. I’ll put it back when I’m back to full strength in my next reboot. But second, go ahead and drop your imposed reality field. With what I plan on doing to him . . . real world physics would kill him.”

  “Can you two hold him?”

  Valliar looked at Stanley, who nodded. “I believe so.”

  “OK,” I said, snapping my fingers and ceasing to impose reality.

  “Hello Randy,” Valliar said with a smile. “Concerning your duties as my avatar, you’re fired.”

  Randy winced as Stanley tightened his grip. “Hey there, true believer. We need to have a talk.”

  Randy screamed as the gods descended upon him. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen two gods literally stuff a man’s head up his own ass. But it’s as entertaining as it sounds.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Where I Reap the Rewards of Justice, Ponder the Reality that People May Not Like Me, and Receive a Message

  “Painful as it is to admit, Jackson Blackwell is—innocent,” Valliar said before The One.

  The Nexus Point rumbled with audible power as a murmur ran through the gathering of gods. The High Deities from across the cosmos turned to one another in broken conversations. Then, all eyes turned on me.

  I projected the biggest, smuggest grin I could from my new seat. Seeing as I rescued not one, but two High Gods from the dastardly plot of a devilish demigod, my promotion to the adult table was warranted.

  “By his own admission, Randy Blackwell conspired with Khasil of Caledon to subdue her brother Valliar, and to dispose of King Stanley, stealing his realm for himself.”

  “Lies!” Khasil hissed from across the table.

  “Silence,” The One boomed. “I heard Randolph’s confession myself. This proceeding is merely formal.”

  “Well . . . shit,” Khasil cursed, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms.

  “Don’t pout, Khassy,” I mocked the goddess.

  “Jackson Blackwell. Mockery does not befit a High God of this table. If you prefer, the junior table is still available.”

  “Got it, your Oneness,” I apologized. “I’m happy here. Won’t happen again.”

  Then I turned my head and quickly stuck out my tongue at her.

  “Khasil of Caledon, you stand in judgment for attempted deicide. How do you plead?”

  “Not guilty.”

  The High Gods once again began talking to once another in whispered tones that rumbled like rolling thunder. Valliar stood from his seat, slapping his hand across the table.

  “How could you be innocent, sister? The One confirmed your conspiracy with Blackwell’s nephew.”

  �
�Dear brother, The One confirmed I conspired, yes. But I never tried to kill you. Merely incapacitate you though the use of a corrupted champion. Perfectly legal through all the Fantastical Realms. As for King Stanley, I had nothing to do with that. Once Blackwell the Lesser departed Caledon, my partnership with him ended. Thus, I am, I repeat, not guilty.”

  “Khasil of Caledon is correct. Judgment rules in favor of her. As Blackwell the Greater has been absolved, Matters here are complete,” The One decreed. With a clap of its hands, The One departed, leaving the High Gods to their own devices.

  And of course light refreshments.

  Some gods stayed; others departed immediately. I decided to partake of the ambrosia of the gods. Free food is free food, after all.

  As I was about to bite into a piece of food that resembled a Twinkie, I caught Khasil’s eyes. She looked at my food, then at me, and smiled.

  Hate me as she did, I doubted even she could poison my food in The Nexus Point. At least, I didn’t think so. I eyed the Twinkie cautiously, then took a bite anyway, calling her bluff.

  Khasil smiled, then departed.

  A hand clasped my shoulder from behind, causing me to almost choke on my food. I turned to see Yoll’gorath.

  “Hey there, Yolly. Am I poisoned?”

  Yolly looked me up and down, giving me a good sniff. “Nah. You’ve done a few good deeds, which stink. But otherwise you’re fine. Why?”

  “Making sure Khasil didn’t pull something.”

  “Bah,” the demon waved a hand. “That scaly broad is just messing with you. She may act all pissed off, but I think she is actually a great admirer of your work. Gods below, I think she’s actually happy with you for once.”

  “Why?”

  “It was your idea to make your nephew Valliar’s champion. A nice stroke of villainy. When Valliar was subdued and the bulk of his godly essence absorbed by Randy, Khasil could do as she pleased across Caledon. That place is a shit-load darker than you remember it. The heroes of the world have been beaten down without a god of Justice keeping watch. And she has you to thank for it. Good job.”

  “Damn it,” I swore. “It shouldn’t be that way. That was never my intent.”