Hero for Hire

Hero for Hire

LMS 2018. Being a supervillain isn\'t all it\'s cracked up to be.

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  • Created Wed Jul 04, 2018 1:39 am

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Chapter Log

18 posts in this topic.

  1. I'm not caught up with chapters, so I may just rely solely on pasting into this forum, now. :P

    Words: 1206

    Spoiler
    It was dark in the holding cell.
    Sebastian was curled on the cold concrete floor, focusing on breathing. He could do that, at least.
    In through the nose.
    Every deep breath sent shards of pain through his bruised ribs, his split lip, his battered back and stomach and legs. He suspected that his right wrist might be broken. He cradled it to his chest.
    Out through the mouth.
    He was a captive. The thought put a sour taste in his mouth. They'd broken into his room, where he'd been sitting at the computer with headphones in, oblivious. Men in dark military suits, and a girl with a twitchy smile. They'd grabbed him, punched him in the gut, wrenched his wrists behind his back, too rough, and there was a sickening snap sound as something broke inside. A sack went over his face that smelled like mold.
    In through the nose.
    The girl had teleported them here, but it had been jerky. He could tell that she wasn't very good at it. There were a lot of halting stops between and grumbling from his captors.
    He'd been too shocked to scream, and every time he'd considered it, he'd recieved another punch to the stomach, to the kidneys, to the shoulder.
    Out through the mouth.
    They knew what he'd found. They knew about Eli. They'd known everything for a long time, and Seb felt like an idiot for thinking that they'd get away with it. They'd never intended to let Eli continue on, not without the control of those pills. And they'd never have let that list of names get out, either. The names were insurance, protection. If someone broke the rules, the Program would be the good guy for exposing them. Throwing them to the wolves of the police, the media, all the betrayed friends and family.
    Seb shifted, his hip digging into the concrete floor. He felt the beginnings of tears itching at his eyes. His family. Would they know what had happened? Would the Program claim him as a criminal, or would his disappearance be unexplained?
    And for what? What could he have done, anyway? If he'd exposed the names, he would have still put all those people in danger. He'd have ruined Eli's life, if the Program hadn't. But that list... it was so long. The Program had their claws in so many people, in so many places, not just Bluford. Cities all over the country. Surely their purposes weren't known by the government, or the police. Certainly not the public. And from what he'd seen with Atlas and Eli, he couldn't help but shudder to think how many young people had fallen prey to those evil people.
    The metal, automated door beeped, then slid open, retracting into the wall. Seb startled, pulling himself upright. He held his bad wrist tenderly in his other hand.
    A man with flaming red hair strode in. Overhead lights clicked on, and Seb blinked at the sudden harsh flourescents. The hulking form of the guard loomed in the doorway before the door slid shut again.
    The man was dressed in black military garb, with a bullet-proof vest strapped over his thin chest. Clear frame glasses were perched on his nose, and freckles spattered his cheeks like blood. There was a folding chair in his hands.
    "Sebastian!" he said, striding forward to where Seb sat dazed on the floor. He was smiling a huge, brilliant grin. "Goodness, I've been wanting to meet you."
    With the lights on, Seb could finally see that the room was completely empty. Just a concrete square with a door. The man unfolded the chair before Sebastian and perched on it, leaning forward. His intense gaze was a watery blue.
    "You've been causing us some issues, kiddo," he said, as if they were discussing an exciting football match. "It's really a shame, because we'd determined to leave you out of this until today."
    Sebastian drew his tall frame fully upright, fighting the sense of emarassment at the fact that he was sitting on the floor while this man loomed over him.
    "Who are you?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes.
    The man looked amused. "I'm surprised you don't recognize me, given all that Eli's told you. He was an employee of mine."
    West. Who else had a personal connection to Eli? Seb tried to hold the man's gaze, but his eyes dropped to the floor. He couldn't help but find that "was" in the agent's statement. "He was an employee." Eli had been on a mission when all this had happened. What had they done to him?
    "What do you want?" His voice was weak. He wasn't made for this.
    Agent West shifted. "Well, that assumes that you have anything to give that we don't already know." His tone sharpened. "Honestly, just your presence here is pretty damn useful. Hostage value, and all that. Does that make you feel special?"
    Sebastian didn't say anything. He stared at West's black combat boots. Would they use him as a hostage against his family? Against Eli?
    "Where is Rift now?"
    Seb glanced up. The smile was gone from West's face. His elbows were on his knees, and he leaned dangerously close to Seb's face.
    Sebastian squinted. A glimmer of hope. That question meant that they didn't know where Eli was.
    "I don't know."
    The agent punched him in the jaw. Pain exloded behind Seb's eyes, and he fell to the side, catching his fall with an elbow.
    "Please," West said calmly, rising to his feet. "I really hate being lied to. I could only tolerate so much from your friend."
    He stood over Sebastian, his pale face in shadow beneath the glaring flourescents. Seb clutched his wrist and watched him, waiting, heart hammering in his ears.
    "Now," West said, "Enough pleasantries. Tell me where he is, and I'll leave you be."
    Panic sliced through Seb's chest. He raised his hands in surrender. "I really don't know. He was on a mission, he wasn't going to back until late, and I--"
    West raised a fist, and Seb flinched, hard. Tears welled up in his eyes. God. Not yet. He'd hoped he'd make it longer than this.
    It terrified him to realize that if he had known where Eli was, it probably wouldn't have taken much to get that out of him.
    Nothing came. Sebastian peeked through his arms. West had his head cocked to the side, thinking.
    "I'll let you think on it, kiddo."
    He crouched down. Seb recoiled.
    West's voice was a low rasp. "Just remember: You're here now. You're mine. You aren't leaving. Protecting him won't matter in the long run." He paused, watery eyes only a foot away. "It'll be worse on both of you if you decide to be difficult."
    He gave Seb a rough pat on the cheek and straightened. That too-wide smile was back, plastered on. He grabbed the folding chair, collapsed it, and deftly swung it to his side. Seb waiting with held breath. He half expected the man to hit him with the chair.
    "I expect a more helpful attitude when I return."
    The door slid open. The agent stepped through without a backward glance, and Seb was plunged back into darkness.
  2. words: 1103

    I am STRUGGLING. ugh

    Spoiler
    Emma stared at the battered young man slumped over on her couch.
    "Rift?" she asked, incredulous. "You're here?"
    He gave her a weak smile, but he didn't answer at first. His face was pale, and he was hunched over slightly, gripping his side. He looked very small curled in like that, much shorter than most college guys she'd met. There was a woman sitting beside him, perched on the couch arm. Her expression was unreadable behind the black mask.
    Celeste watched Rift with a furrowed brow, arms crossed over her chest. "His name is Eli."
    Eli lifted a few fingers in confirmation. He leaned into the cushions, eyelids fluttering.
    "Um," he said, his voice small. "I think I need to sleep now. Been a long day, and all that..."
    Celeste swept over to him immediately. Her face was drawn, closed off, but Emma saw the tension in her shoulders. She was worried about him.
    "He was shot, earlier," Celeste explained as she crouched beside Eli. His eyes widened in surprise when she lifted his arm and examined his side. "Were you there?"
    Emma nodded, the vivid memory of flame and steaming metal still fresh in her mind. "Yes."
    Celeste came back towards the door and crouched before a cabinet, pulling out the medical kit. The two of them were very familiar with patching up after rougher days with various villains.
    "So he got shot," Celeste's voice dropped, a hint of anger glinting at the edges. "And you didn't help him?"
    Emma gave her roommate a sharp glance. "They bombed the factory. I had to help everyone get out first." She looked back at Rift, a stab of guilt lancing through her at the defeated, exhausted expression on his face. He looked like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "I didn't know that it was this bad."
    "The police found him. He's trying to lay low with us."
    Emma's eyes slid to the other woman on the couch, the stranger, who had fixed keen eyes on the pair by the door.
    "And her?"
    Celeste growled, swiftly rising to her feet with the medical kit in hand. "I don't know her. A vigilante from out of town. Sounds like she pushed Rift around a bit before they got here."
    She jerked her chin in Eli's direction. "Come on. We need to fix him before he passes out on us."
    Emma hesitated. She needed to help him. She was the pre-med student, after all, but there was a guilt that sank into her bones. Was it her fault that he was in such a rough way?
    All the more reason to help him.
    Emma brushed the guilt away and joined Celeste at the couch.
    Her roommate tenderly lifted Eli's arm, then his shirt, exposing his injured side. A crimson starburst of blood showed through the tan bandage. Emma crouched down and started picking at the adhesive, and Eli went along with it without a word of protest.
    "Did you patch this?" Celeste asked him. Eli just turned his head to the side, his eyes closed to slits.
    "I did," the vigilante said. She was watching them like a bird of prey, swiveling her gaze from one to the other. "It isn't very deep, but he opened it again on our way here."
    Celeste curled her lip. "Or it opened from your interrogation practices."
    The woman smiled. "If I'm not mistaken, beating him up is your job, Zenith."
    Celeste's eyes flashed. "I'm not Zenith right now. And I've never hurt him like this."
    Emma waved their argument away. "Come on. We don't need this right now." She glanced at Celeste. "He needs water. And maybe some food."
    Celeste gave a stiff nod and went to the kitchen. Emma could hear the water running and the fridge snapping closed.
    She shifted the medical box closer to her and examined the wound. It was shallow and clean, without any fragments or shrapnel. Still, he'd need a few stitches. She had treated her own bumps and bruises enough times to know what was necessary. Celeste came back with a wet cloth, then went back to the kitchen.
    Emma pressed the cloth against his skin. Eli flinched.
    "Sorry," she whispered. She tried to ignore the other bruises and cuts that had bloomed on his chest and arms. There were some old scars, too, and she couldn't help but wonder if she or Celeste had contributed for the sake of appearances.
    Why had she taken that damn job, again? It seemed terribly ironic, really. A doctor-in-training treating the very person she had harmed. What kind of terrible person was she?
    She swallowed her guilt and pulled out her surgical needle and thread.
    "Hey, Rift. Uh. Eli," Celeste's voice came from the kitchen. Eli lifted his head and looked blearily in her direction. Celeste held up the bright blue tea kettle.
    "Do you like tea?"
    Eli's expression cleared ever so slightly. "Yes."
    "What kind?"
    "I'm going to start the stitches," Emma interrupted softly. Eli nodded, his fists clenching. But when the needle went in, he turned back to Celeste, an uncanny shine in his eyes.
    "What kind do you have?"

    Eli clutched a steaming cup of lavender earl gray to his chin, inhaling the sweet scent. His side stung with the new stitches, but the fresh bandages and ointment felt cool and clean against his hot skin. As he drank more, his head even began to clear.
    Emma and Celeste sat on the small coffee table across from him, faces pinched in concern. It was obvious that they were very good friends from how close they sat to each other, and how easy they were in conversation. Eli wondered if this had happened before or after they'd become Zenith, and if the Zenith persona had always been run by a duo from the start.
    He hadn't moved from the old, comfy couch since he'd sat down, and his eyelids drooped with exhaustion. He didn't know why, but he actually felt safe here. He would never have expected such concern from Grumpy Zenith, nor stitches from Happy. He could almost forget about the forboding prescence of Battery beside him, her silence hanging heavy in the air.
    "This 's good," he murmured, trying to break the tension. The condensation from the steam clung to his nose. "Thanks."
    Emma gave him a soft smile, her dark braids hanging down like black ropes. "Feeling better?"
    Eli forced a smile back. "All things considered? Yeah."
    Celeste picked at her bantu knots. "We need a plan. There's no way that the Program won't come to us next."
  3. words: 1309

    Doing better! Going to try and post my chapters to catch up. :)

    Spoiler
    Emma tilted her head. "Really? But they wouldn't know that he knows who we are. We may have some time."
    Eli hunched his shoulders and stared into his tea. "I... I didn't mean to put you all in danger."
    Aniyah watched them, puzzling together this situation. If what Rift/ Eli had told her was true, that he had been framed by the Program and set up for a situation that he had no way of winning, then this meant that the Program was the true antagonist. Rift was really a naive, poor college student and had been cruelly taken advantage of. A victim. If what he had told her was true, the Rift's crimes were shared by, or even fully the fault of, the Program.
    Celeste waved his apology away. "This is a mess that we'd all have gotten involved with one way or another. I don't think the Program would have let us be forever."
    "Besides," Emma said. "What kind of heroes would we be if we didn't help you?"
    Aniyah didn't want to believe that the villain was the victim. She prefered the black and whites. She wanted this situation to be as simple as arresting a singular man who could be held accountable. But in this world, true justice rarely came so easy. And if the Program was responsible for its villains, what did that say of its heroes? Were the Zeniths actually true of heart, or were they just as grey as Rift had proven to be?
    And what about that list? Aniyah's name hadn't been on it, so perhaps the list only included man-made, or Program-created, supers. But how many of them had been framed like Eli? How many had been targeted like his friend Pyro?
    Aniyah had known that there was something fishy about The Superhuman Project for a long while, but she'd thought that they'd been creating heroes only, not orchestrating the crimes, too. The fact that the villains might all be somewhat innocent, desperate young people made her stomach churn. And now, these young women were involved, too, simply because they had been nice enough to let an injured criminal and a stranger into their home.
    She knew what she had to do, but she didn't like it.
    "We need a safe house," she said. "I have one we can go to."
    The other turned to her in surprise.
    "She speaks," Celeste commented drily. Eli merely blinked.
    "This house is safe enough for now," Emma protested. "They don't know that you're here."
    "They know more than we think," Eli muttered. "They could be listening now."
    They lapsed into silence again. Celeste narrowed her eyes.
    "Besides, why would we trust you? We don't even know who you are."
    Aniyah watched her steadily. "You know enough to know that you need me."
    Celeste scoffed and pushed off the table, walking up to where Aniyah still sat on the arm of the couch.
    "You're only here because you brought him." She pointed at Eli, who shrunk back like he'd been stung. "We only care about him. You could leave and fly back to Chicago and never come back for all I care."
    She felt sorry for the girl, so hot-tempered and quick to attack. Her self-righteousness propelled her forward. "I patched him, didn't I? I brought him here, didn't I? I know too much to just wander harmlessly out of your lives, and I haven't betrayed you yet. I think you'd best listen to me."
    "I think I'd best take a nap," Eli muttered, setting his mug down. "I don't want to run anymore."
    Celeste's face crumpled with anger and indecision. She turned to Emma and spread her hands. Emma glanced up from her phone.
    "I don't think we're completely safe here. I'm just saying that we don't know her."
    Emma considered this. "Do we have any other options?"
    Celeste sighed. "My parents might take us."
    "But do they check the news?" Emma gestured to her screen. "There are some stories popping up about the bombing, Amber Alerts for his roommate, Eli's real name." Emma glanced at Eli. "I'm sorry about him, by the way."
    Eli didn't respond at first, his jaw tense. "There's nothing you could have done." He paused, then the blood ran out of his face. "Oh god."
    Celeste snapped her gaze to him. "What?"
    "My parents. My parents are going to see that... They'll see what I've..." He flopped his head back onto the cushions and closed his eyes. "Fuck."
    Emma's eyes widened. "Celeste, if we help him, will the Program expose us, too?"
    Celeste paced around the coffeetable, running her hands over her knots. "I don't know. We're Zenith, and she's a pretty big name. Would they really off one of their big heroes so quickly? But the more that I think about it, I really don't think we should go to any of our family members. It could put them in danger." She stopped, her eyes boiling. "Which means that we might be forced to go with Ms. Mask, here."
    "If the Program targets us," Emma corrected. "We don't know if they suspect us at all, yet."
    "I think it's safe to assume that nowhere is safe," Celeste said. "They made that pretty obvious for Eli."
    Eli sniffed. "And Atlas. And Seb. God," his voice cracked. "Do you think they're still alive?"
    Celeste froze, but Emma leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. "We'll get you through this, Eli. And if we can, we'll find them."
    Eli buried his face in his hands. "This is all because of me. I should never have stopped taking those stupid pills--"
    Aniyah jerked her head. "Pills?"
    Emma nodded. "The power pills. It's how we maintain our specific abilities, since we aren't bios. But Eli, what do you--"
    The window at the back of the room shattered, spraying out glass in a wave as a figure clad in black swung into the room. At the same time, the front door shuddered with a terrible force, cracking it down the center. A horrible crunching noise echoed from the bedrooms.
    The four supers surged to their feet, assuming fighting positions. Aliyah saw the Zeniths nod, and suddenly the room was filled with the blinding, churning glare of plasma beams. Eli gave a choked gasp and darted behind the pair.
    People clad in black military gear flooded the room, guns raised. Before anyone could move further, Aliyah focused her attention on the car battery in her backpack. It was still almost fully charged, pressed against her back inside her small bag. Electricity coursed through her blood, causing her muscles to seize up and her vision to darken around the edges. She could see every electrical signature in the apartment, and some outside of it. She targeted everyone except the three people beside her.
    Her vision blacked out as she fired, the electricity exploding from her in miniature lightning bolts. There were cries of pain, the thump-thump-thump of bodies hitting the floor, and one gunshot. Aniyah thought she heard the bullet hit the wall behind her. One of the girls screamed.
    Silence.
    When her vision slowly returned, bleeding back in from the edges, Aniyah could see the others standing over her. She must have fallen in her efforts. Emma looked horrified, Celeste looked bemused, and Eli looked about ready to pass out.
    "Are you okay?" Emma breathed.
    There was a burnt taste in her mouth, and her muscles ached as if she'd channeled an entire lightning storm. The battery was empty.
    "Yeah."
    She rose shakily to her feet, surveying the damage. The assailants were crumpled to the ground, but she wasn't certain if they were all unconscious or not, or if there were more on the way.
    "Time's up," she said, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. "Anyone got a car?"


Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.
— Miles Kington