The Descent Chapter 2: Hit-Girl Returns Part 1

Full Novel Synopsis: Sequel to 'The Spiralling', itself a sequel to the Kick-Ass (2010) movie. However, this novel can be read on its own. After Big Daddy died, Mindy was driven mad, subdued by Dave, and locked away in an Institute after killing all who she deemed responsible but Dave. Will she recover? What will happen next to a New York without her nor the Motherfucker? Elements of the Kick-Ass 2 (2013) movie and comic series will be taken in.

The Descent

Chapter 2: Hit-Girl Returns Part 1

Do you remember that Superman movie back in the day? The one in which Superman returns? This was what it felt like, when the call came in from Dr. Paul about Mindy. Funny, how I’m so used to calling her Mindy now, instead of Hit-Girl, but I guess the latter’s just too full of bad memories. Regardless, this was the next big blockbuster of my life: Hit-Girl Returns.

“Could you come over to the institute at, say, 11?” Dr. Paul said. Even through the phone, through his professional disinterested façade, I could tell that he, too, had a boy inside who was beaming with joy, who can’t wait to show his achievement to mom and dad. I knew it was in me, and the feeling was even better than getting a Marvel anthology for Christmas. All these months as Mindy rotted in the Jameson Psychiatry Institute, I was down and out, dead. I felt alive again.

“A.m., right?” I beamed like a disco ball, I could barely think, but the good doctor’s laughter told me he understood, and he replied yes, “Hell yeah! I’ll even be earlier than that!”

Cue the phone getting put down, and I was jumping with joy. It was a huge shame that I never knew how to do a backflip or a cartwheel, because it felt like the moment. I could have backflipped across the room if I knew how, but instead, I had to knock my knee into my desk. In light of Mindy’s recovery though, even THAT felt good. I didn’t even mind missing school for the day, which I had been burying myself in ever since the fiasco at the D’Amico tower. Todd and Marty wouldn’t mind and the teachers and principal wouldn’t care – my workaholic attitude for most of the year had given me enough aces to get excused.

Flipping open my wardrobe, I was a kid on his birthday, flipping through my selections to pick out the best outfit. Denim jeans, a shirt and… A jacket. I took off the brownish jacket, looked at it. It was an old possession that I’ve had for a few years. There was simply no reason to toss it out, especially after my last growth spurt was over. I eyed its right shoulder. Mindy’s bite mark was still there – Scuffs and a bit of tear. Would she mind? After a bit, I smiled anyway – Might as well, we might even laugh it off.

After getting on my socks, I was sliding down the stairs, absolutely floating into the kitchen. It felt like being Green Lantern for once. Even my dad was surprised when I hummed a random song out while I poured some milk into a bowl, followed by cereal.

“Hey pal, what’s the good news? New girlfriend?” My dad caught on, and he was positively glowing, his grey hair silver. I might have infected him with my happy of the spiderman-ray kind.

“Even better!” I couldn’t help but to exclaim like a girl getting her first fur coat, but I didn’t care, “Remember that girl I told you about?”

“The one you cried over for months?” Dad guessed. Well, he was right. I did cry my heart out for the first 6 months or so, not just for Mindy, but for my pathetic self. After-all, Demoness’ words stuck, and the worst thing of all was that she was right, and then there was the comic-book twist – since Demoness’ was Mindy’s other personality created by what Doctor Paul termed as Dissociative Identity Disorder made worst by Depression, Psychosis, a ruined childhood and insurmountable tragedies, it meant that Hit-Girl, or Mindy, was also saying it, “Mindy was it? Hit-Girl? That Batwoman-type you’ve been teaming up with back then?”

“Y-yeah.” For a while, I could feel it seeping out of me, upon remembering everything that went wrong back then. Even to this day, it had that kind of power. It was the Dracula of Draculas I had to contend with every single day, and it wasn’t the traditional kind of Dracula, but the kind with all the modern reinterpretations and super CGI effects, “That’s her. You don’t mind, right?”

“Wait… Are you..?” My father’d stopped eating, and that was big news in our family vocabulary. I looked at him wide-eyed, a little confused at what he’s driving at. It had the effect of driving away the memories for a bit.

“What..? Dad?” I replied stupidly, not getting it at all. What was he driving at? He knew about my superhero alter-ego, so that can’t be it. He knew about Mindy and HER alter-ego as Hit-Girl and the DID resulting in Demoness…

“Dave, I understand everything you’ve been going through. You’ve been friends with her for almost 2 years now, fighting together, watching each other’s backs, going through what people twice your age could only dream of… together.” My dad’s monologue started. He’s been doing that quite a bit lately, especially when I’d hit rock bottom with my Mindy anxiety back then, and back then I appreciated it, but now, “It’s only natural that you’d… You know, even if she’s almost half your age. I’m your dad, it’s really fine to talk about it…” Then, it clicked all of a sudden.

“Oh! What? Dad, no.” I nearly spat back out my first bite of cereal, but I swallowed without chewing all the way instead, nearly choking or vomiting, “Don’t even go there. We’ve talked about this a few times. She’s like a sister to me.” Despite what I said, he still looked worried, unconvinced, “Dad! I’m not a paedophile!”

For some reason, a smile started curling up his face, his seriousness fading away like the moon in the morning. I was thoroughly confused, especially more so when he started chuckling, then laughing, “Dad! No! Don’t go Joker on me!” At this, I was just as serious as he was. After Mindy, I was always worried that everyone around me would go nuts. If I had the money to do it, I’d check myself out for PTSD at the nearest psychiatric hospital.

“Just kidding, buddy!” Dad managed to squeeze out as he was absolutely laughing out loud. He had to push himself away his bowl of cereal in case he knock it over. He looked like he was just a step away from rolling on the ground. I could only feel relieved at this – it was surprisingly new, my dad developing a healthy sense of humour. I had to wonder myself, what allowed him to develop that sense of humour? Eventually, however, I was laughing with him – it really was funny after all, in retrospect. After calming down, he continued, “See, Dave? Thing’s aren’t that bad in the end. You know what I’m trying to tell you, right?”

“That… I’m not a paedophile?” After getting a suckerpunch-joke, I was getting thrown off a bit, and confused at what he was trying to say.

“Well, other than that,” I couldn’t tell whether he was joking this time, but from his post-joke chuckle, it was obvious he was stretching it a bit. Don’t get me wrong though, it was still funny in retrospect, “I’m fine with it, adopting her. The Lizewski family could use another kid.”

“You know, your mom and I wanted more than you… You know?” He was, very quickly, looking down, solemn. At first, I expected tears from him, but it didn’t come out. As for me, I understood a long time ago that life goes on regardless, although admittedly, her death happening just a few years back helped, for some reason. Was it because I was tougher? Or was I just desensitized enough not to be slitting wrists by living in a city – that rationalisation has had me confused for years myself, “Funny. We’ve always wanted a daughter. Thought you could use one, you know?”

I kept silent. The day had only just begun, and already, it felt like the climax of Batman Begins. It was evident that he was still a little upset over my mother, at what was, what is, and what could have been. Even after all these years, and now, I’ve gotten along even better with him, and with Mindy going on for the past year, tragedy was no longer just confined in a book by Shakespeare or Jerry Siegel any longer.

“I’m so proud of you, Dave. You’ve grown so, so much, fighting crime, and now... There’s Mindy.” Dad continued. He was still not touching his cereal, but at his arms were on the table, “I just wish it wasn’t as tough as it was.”

“An adopted daughter for me and an adopted sister for you. Who would’ve thought?” Dad continued to ramble on. A burning question, in the meantime, occurred to me.

“Dad, I know you have a shift coming up, but do you want to take it off and meet her?” I asked my burning question. I, on the other hand, had no idea what was best.

“Nah, you pick her up today. I figured you deserve some time alone with her.” He continued. I still couldn’t help but to read his me-as-a-paedophile joke into that for some reason, “Besides,” He continued as he was standing up. He’d been rapidly shoving cereal into his mouth between words that he was nearly done, but he still could not finish, “I’ve got to work hard now that I have a new baby girl to take care of.”

At first glance, anyone would think that he took it begrudgingly, but he wasn’t. Not even a tiny bit, not a chance. He was smiling, full of energy. Before this, I thought I’d done him in where taking care of kids were concerned, but it turns out he still had the strength to carry on. The grey hair on his scalp don’t mean shit at all. With that, he marched off animatedly towards the front door, but before he leave, he continued on, just when I thought it couldn’t get any more awesome, “I’ll set aside some money, make a room for her. I bet she’s the pink-and-purple type.”