Young Writers Society

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 9: Blood On My Hands Part 1

It was harder than my earlier days, doing patrols. Back then, all I had on me was a green wetsuit and a pair of batons. Now, I’m almost a SWAT cop, minus the cooler gadgets and guns. But something even heavier was weighing me down, and it wasn’t even Monday yet. It’d lead me to wonder - was the world a better place with me around? With all those new superheroes running about? Or were we complicating things?

I saw myself in ‘RJ’, and Doctor Gravity. They were what I used to be, the right mix of naiveté and enthusiasm, and guess how did it turn out? I was trapped in the event horizon of a blackhole, felt like ripping my eyes out like Sam Neil in Event Horizon. I felt like a virus, multiplying myself through the superhero phenomenon. All the others were just copies of me, and yet I wouldn’t stop, even as I’m telling you this now. I wanted the mask, the Kick-Ass persona, even when I’m selfishly putting Mindy at risk of a relapse. I’m a dirty old virus, no matter what the people on the streets say.

“Hey Kick-Ass! Welcome back!” A girl in a black jacket cheered my return. Her skinhead boyfriend, or friend, wanted a hi-five, so I gave him one half-heartedly. Wasn’t even looking at him. It didn’t even bother me anymore if it was affecting my image.

“Yeah!” The skinhead exclaimed during the hi-five, ecstatic. I guess he didn’t notice, “You’re the best, man!” I didn’t show my appreciation, because Mindy was on my mind way before his compliment. I thought her discharge from Jameson Psychiatry Institute would fix things, that adopting her as a sister was atonement. It’s freaky, but I thought I wouldn’t be as lonely in my family with just me and dad, or in the superhero world as Kick-Ass. I was wrong on all counts. Nothing was fixed. There was no atonement, not a chance. The damage’d been done, and can never be taken back. I was lonelier than ever, the blues spreading throughout my body instead of turning yellow and fading away. It wasn’t Mindy in my family, and I’m certainly alone as Kick-Ass walking the streets, no Hit-Girl by my side.

There was no crime to stop for the day, again. Not that I was paying much attention. After 3 hours of nothing, I couldn’t take it anymore. It was the Fortress of Solitude for me. If you ask me, I’ve no idea whatsoever why I decided to retreat there. Was it a knee-jerk response? Was it some kind of logic? I wouldn’t know, and I was past the point of rationalising everything. I’d ran out of juice with the Mindy business.

Damon Macready. It was a name I’d avoided for a long time. I preferred Big Daddy – more distant. Back when Marcus Williams passed on, he and Mindy became a court case. Mindy was the easy part, as Marcus’ will excluded his own family from taking guardianship over Mindy – I’ve never really known or understood why. Then there were the assets Damon ensured remained with Mindy, regardless of who was guardian. This included their apartment home which acted as their headquarters, as well as their safe houses, all 6 of them, from A through to F, which were also embedded deep in apartment buildings. Harder to find, I guess. It was all in his will. The case dragged on for a few months. They were quiet about it, ‘judge’s decision pending’. By the time they’ve decided to let Mindy and subsequently, me and my dad, keep Damon’s assets, I didn’t bother. Kick-Ass and the superhero world was gone to me at the time with Mindy in an asylum, only to all be revived limply a week back.

I took a bus to Big Daddy and Hit-Girl’s headquarters. Didn’t even know how long it took. I was surprised I didn’t overshoot and get lost somewhere outside of New York. It was located on the top floor, last unit to the right. Number 14. I had the key in my keyring, and using it, I entered the house, from the present back into the past.

It didn’t look like anything out of the ordinary at first. A white hallway with generic pictures on the wall, tall and thin tables. There was a pink luggage by the door. I’d only been in the father-daughter duo’s headquarters once after the court turned it over to me and my dad – I didn’t know what it was for. It did look familiar though. Floodgates opened in my mind. I remembered myself walking through this hallway with Hit-Girl, after nearly getting burnt alive, after… Big Daddy was killed because of me.

A closed door with a keypad. I opened it, and immediately an LED on it started flashing, a cellphone inside started ringing. It was their system of detecting intruders entering their operations room – I figured that out the first time I came while Mindy was still in a straitjacket. I didn’t rush. Couldn’t bother. Taking the old cellphone in my hand and wiping away the dust collecting on its screen, I switched the alarm app on it off. Big Daddy’s cellphone, blasted my mind. I dropped it back on the table.

Grabbing a chair, a chair that probably used to be where Mindy (not Mandy) sat, I leaned back, took in the room around me. I was a goldfish. The computer screen before me was nearly grey with dust. The guns all around, mostly coloured in deathly black, had a mane of grey on their scalps. A year of dust, dust that probably were once part of Mindy and Big Daddy, their skin, now dead, coating everything they owned.

There were guns all around me, stuff that anyone from a comic book geek to a gun nut would ogle over, but nothing interested me, nothing but the picture standing beside the computer monitor before me. I picked it up, held it in both my hands. Can’t do it one-handed. Too sacred. The glass had attracted a lot of dust. Only two figures, like ghosts, stood behind it.

I wiped away the dust, and there they were, preserved by the miracle of photography. Back then, I didn’t even dare to look at such photos of them. There was no going back now. The faces of those victimised by my naivety. Damon and Mindy Macready, side by side, both smiling, as if nothing happened. Damon with his blonde hair, moustache and big spectacles, and Mindy… Mindy in her…

I laid my head on the table, used my arm as a pillow. It was dark, but it became darker, and darker.

The Lizewski Residence…

D’Amico Tower… Da-Mico Tower… Why does it sound so familiar? What’s a D’Amico Tower? Why does Mr Sal say that I’m familiar when I’ve never met him before? I wish I had the internet on my phone so that I could find out, but dad wouldn’t give me my internet on the phone. Dave wouldn’t let me touch a computer. Everyone in school could use the internet on their phone. It’s so unfair.

“Mandy? Mandy honey?” I heard dad said over me. I looked back at him, “You okay there, Mandy? You zoned out there for a second.” I was in bed, and daddy was tucking me in. I don’t know why, but I liked it better when Dave does it. I feel weird, because normally a girl would prefer daddy to do it.

“I’m fine, daddy.” I reassured him, “Dad, what’s a D’Amico Tower?” I wanted to ask Dave this question but he wasn’t around for the whole day. Where did he go when I needed him the most? Something was wrong with me. I can’t think. Why?

“Where did you hear that from?” Dad queried. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him about Sal. I shouldn’t have talked to strangers. But I don’t want to lie to daddy.

“I met a new friend today.” I said. Dad was so tall when I look up at him from my pillow. He looks a bit scary that way, “His name is Sal Bertolinni. He said that.” Dad didn’t answer immediately.

“It’s a place.” Dad finally said, but he wanted to say more, “It’s Sal’s thing, so don’t worry your head over it, okay?” He ruffled my hair. A lot of people love doing that to me. I like it too.

“Now, goodnight.” He finally wished me. He kissed me on the forehead.

“Goodnight.” I wished him back. Dad stood up and walked away, switched off the light for me. He was very gentle. He closed the door without making a big bang.