Young Writers Society

Falling is so loud.

It felt like the wind wanted to burst past my eardrums and into my head.

Free falling probably wasn’t so bothersome to people with regular hearing, I wanted to plug my ears shut!

The noise was definitely more concerning to me than the gloved fingers wrapped around my neck.

I had RatKing right where I wanted him. The fancy bank was split in two, the Wolfman couldn’t do anything from all the way up there on the other half of the bank flying in the sky as it shrunk from my sight. I could’ve sworn that it roared at me or called out for its companion (owner?), I didn’t know. Regardless, my true adversary was all the way up there and I was stuck with this asshole.

From this height, even if I used myself to break the fall, RatKing would probably die.

Nothing gained… nothing lost.

But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try, I was morally obligated to.

Big blue ocean waves get closer as I expected to become fully engulfed in salty seawater, feel the combined pressure of the entire ocean on my body and thinking of a way to explain to not only the cops but to the press about how I followed RatKing just so I could personally hear his bones shatter.

But that didn’t happen, instead we jolted upwards, only skimming across the ocean’s surfaces as we flew back to the coastline. We went over the docks and then entered right above the city's western side.

I was hanging upside down looking at the silos and smokestacks that rose from the ground, we were over the industrial district below… or from my perspective above.

Something had hooked itself onto the fabric of my legs.

I looked up to see RatKing standing on a purple wing-shaped hovercraft of sorts. It had sharpened pieces of metal sticking out of the front like mandibles, it was ramshackle as clot.

My leg was stuck on one of the spikes.

I tried to free myself from the contraption but failed as the Villain steered like a madman. As if he didn’t have a human being dragged behind him like a paper bag.

Sadness overwhelms me as I simply pulled my leg and with that the entire leg of my costume is torn off. My mothers hard work, being taken away by that rat bastard. I fall once again.

I should have let it go.

The bank was absolutely destroyed, pieces of it fell onto the city and innocent bystanders most definitely got hurt. My mother was waiting for me back home. But something about RatKing just rubbed me the wrong way. I chased after him once again.

He stayed low to the city's skyline, convenient for me since I lacked flight abilities. I wasted no time in catching him though, and he definitely had no idea he was being pursued.

“You didn’t give me the faith of a one on one and you expect me to let you go?!” I yelled as I looped through a sign and tackled him, sending us careening back from where we came from.

“Damn you!” he said indignantly.

RatKing tried desperately to go west, using his feet which were clamped into the hovercraft to move in different directions. I locked my feet around him and clung on his back like a jockey. He elbowed me in the sides frantically and even tried to headbutt me. I put my hands around his head, blocking his mask’s eye holes as he started to truly panic.

He went west while I pulled him south. I needed to get him back to the city and have him arrested but he seemed keen on not being put behind bars where he belongs. We spun around like an out of control firework rocket, flailing his arms as a pigeon drunk off a used bottle of cognac and if I was a bystander looking over inside a skyscraper or on the street, I’d be laughing even more than I already was.

I should have focused more on which police precinct or Hero HQ I wanted to take him to than laughing because I oversteered.

We were heading straight for the docks.

More specifically, Jonah’s Marina.

Orange-stained sky with stray lines of white started to form as the day was reaching its end.

Time has already had its effect on brick-and-mortar buildings that have stood for more than a century: broken windows and foliage grow across the dark surface like veins. Graffiti art, amateur and professional, branded the landscape. Squirrels nested inside phone booths as falcons swooped from above and striking at scurrying rats hiding inside tall weeds. Lily pads and bulrush plants decorated the waterways, an ecosystem growing on top of what was once civilization.

Jonah’s Marina was once a place where people lived, where families made a living, and prosperity was on the rise. Everything was going well… until a Villain washed it all away. Most of its inhabitants ended up at the bottom of the bay overnight.

And me and my good friend RatKing were about to crash land right into it.

The hovercraft whined violently as its owner did the best to ease the impact, until he powered off the engine (somehow).

We hit an abandoned a/c unit, which finally separated us. I landed on my two feet without much issue while RatKing went tumbling across the rooftop, skidding to the edge as he held on with one hand. There he was dangling like a fucking booger or a clump of knotted hair over multiple stories, above not-so-deep water.

I went over to check on him at a leisurely pace, I thought, “if he knew how to pilot his own hovercraft then he must at least know how to doggie paddle”. I looked down, wishing that he could see my smile. He looked back up, grunting as his grip loosened,

“You’re a miserable miscreant… I should have killed you when I had the chance!”

“Nice to see we are on the same page.” I hoisted him up to safety as I heard his heart relax.

He didn’t bother to stand, only remaining on the ground sitting in a slumped manner. I hopped on top of the beaten up a/c unit sitting crisscrossed as I watched RatKing intently. I should've dragged him straight to prison or at the very least handed him over to the nearest police department. But the best way to defeat your enemies is to figure out who they are.

I had enough time, mom would leave some leftovers in the fridge.

This Villain didn’t seem physically imposing despite him being a foot taller than me, and whether or not it was his long black jacket that hid most of his form I imagined he wasn’t built at all. His get-up screamed “cowboy” mixed with a generic mad scientist that showed up more in comic books and movies than in real life. And like the jangle of spurs the steel on his bulky boots made plenty of noise at the slightest movement.

“I understand now. You’re both… a sadist… and… a masochist. I am truly damned, and God sent you to punish me.” RatKing uttered.

“I don’t believe in divine intervention. And neither should you… no one is saving you today.”

“Good. I don’t want to be saved, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

This guy and his southern hospitality bullshit kept fanning my temper so I changed the subject to something more light hearted. What was his deal? And what was that… werewolf… back at the bank, one of his wacky science experiments?

“So… Mr. King-”

“No please, Mr. King was my father.”

I rolled my eyes, “RatKing. What possessed a Villain such as yourself to rob a bank?”

“Sport….”

“So this is all one big game to you? And that monster, is it your hunting dog?”

A surge of energy overtook him as his heartbeat shot up, his voice grew loud and harsh, “He has a name! And he’s more human than you. I bet that’s why you wear a mask. Can’t stand to look at a mirror?”

“You’re one to talk, Villain!” Now I had my arms crossed and my feet were twitching like crazy.

“And most importantly, I am an outlaw. Not a Villain.” he said with a twinge of slyness.

I was caught off guard, my brain was short circuiting for a couple of moments.

“That hole in your arm? It wasn’t a Villain who did it… according to law. You know what that is right? Or do you just have an honorary license?”

I felt like I was blacking out. A horrible sensation ran across my skin and into my spine. I had to calm down just to make sure it wasn’t my rabbit senses alerting me from real danger.

“What are you saying?”

“The law says… at least from my quite primitive understanding of it: all Quasi must apply for a government-sanctioned Hero license in order for them to freely use their powers in public. Those who use their powers without a license are hereby classified as Villains.”

“Lock ya clotting mouth! You’re lying. You got somethin, powers, weird eyes, I bet you have a tiny little rat tail tucked inside your pants.”

He was a Quasi... he had to be!

The Rat laughed, it began slowly, almost like timid hiccups, until it turned into a howling jeer. He couldn’t get enough of my bewilderment, cackling as he held his chest together.

He was evil.

I should’ve let him fall, yet I saved him. Twice.

“How the clot did- the bank! How did you even do that?! Who else was helping you?”

It wasn’t just him and the wolf. There had to be more. A Super Villain gang. Someone with telekinesis or geokinesis, maybe a float power, that was the only way!

“The power of the mind is seldom considered in most situations, Little Rabbit. Trust me when I say, the heist was my doing. Thanks to my team of course, they were very supportive.” I could just see his clotting smile behind that infernal mask.

Ok he had a team, a group of Villains running amok in my city? Interesting….

“I’ve never heard of you.” I said.

“And I’ve heard enough about you, Rabbit. I never expected you to show up. That's why we are in this most uncomfortable scenario.”

I asked him exactly what he meant. He gave no answer, instead he got up to stretch as he walked over to his grounded hovercraft. No danger, not yet at least. What was this guy’s deal?

So I said to him in an authoritative tone, “The money you stole… belongs to the people of New Geweld. You will face justice for your crimes, I’ll see to it.” No more messing around, I had to get serious.

He stood still for a moment, pondering inside his criminal mind, like I’m close to getting it but not the full story. He responded, “That's not how banks work. All that money will reappear in your buddies bank accounts as if nothing happened.” he nudged at his machine with his foot, checking to see if it was dead or not.

“You killed people!” I yelled.

“That's subjective.” he responded with frigidness.

I laughed, he made me genuinely laugh. At the absurdity of his words and how completely avoidant he was of his own actions. I imagined that was how most Villains were, selfish till the bitter end. They belonged to be locked up. Not just for everyone else's sake but for their own.

I wondered why I wasn’t sensing danger, it seemed as though he was going to make a move. If he wanted to flee and get away then he had to kill me.

Or try.

He opened up a lid on the side of the hovercraft and started rummaging through it. I quickly got off the a/c unit, ready to charge at him at full speed.

We stared each other down. A light gust of wind picked up the dust on the roof while balls of tangled dried up vines followed. Crows and ravens perched on the old electrical cables and overgrown trees watched us with anticipation. The sun got lower by the second, making its peace with the day and letting in the cold night. He was not tense at all, red piercing eyes met my white lenses, and I was waiting for my intuition to alert me, but nothing was setting it off. I readied my fingers.

If I could close the distance I could just flick my fingers hard enough to send powerful shockwaves to knock him down.

“It was nice meeting you, Power-Jack. Honestly. I like your outfit, it’s cute. But I got places to be.”

“No one is coming to save you, Rat.”

“I know….”

Just then, he pulled out a canister and flung it at me. I sidestepped easily as it stuck to the unit behind, I barely processed what the gadget looked like until it exploded.

A warm, gooey feeling swept across my arm. A mass of pasty turquoise had completely devoured my right side.

I tried to pull with all my strength but to no avail. I raised my free hand up, fingers prepared to flick the bastard over the side of this decrepit roof, but he already threw another canister.

And another and another.

My entire body was cocooned in a goopy toothpaste.

All I could think was, “Damn!”

RatKing pressed something shiny on his gun belt and the engines of his hovercraft hummed to life. He chuckled dryly as he jumped on it, boots clamped and the sound of gears securing the pilot. The piece of pink cloth torn from my suit still hung on its horns.

The wind picked up even more to reveal the silver pistol on his hip.

My gaze never left that thing.

I remembered the holes burnt into the heads of those police officers and the one in my arm. My head was the only part of me that remained visible.

He looked at me one last time. Hand on his gun belt, dangerously close to his weapon.

It can’t end like this, can’t it? What will mom do? What about Vino Heights?

I was silently prepared for scorching red to shine upon my face, until he finally reached down, yanking off my cloth and throwing it at my face.

Disappointment?

“I like you, Power-Jack. I think deep down you’re a righteous gal. And a true hero in a sea of frauds and tyrants… or at least… in comparison. So stay righteous and don’t get in our way.”

I didn’t even get enough time to say something sarcastic before the Villain blasted off into the night sky, west from what I can tell, far into the inner state.

And there I was, stuck in glorified rat spit or whatever the clot that maniac got me stuck in.

He knew me, or enough to form an opinion.

There was a hole in my arm that was only just starting to heal along with the scorch marks that riddled my skin. The goo made it hurt less for some reason but it was still unpleasant. My back hurt like a bitch and I hadn’t drank a sip of water since yesterday. My feet were most definitely bruised and battered, my suit was ruined, the pink and white now covered in soot, sweat, and asbestos.

I failed to capture a Villain and I failed to stop the heist. If my father could have seen me then. The only thing I had left was my life, which wasn’t much to boast about. And that fight with the wolf quasi was different. Good different.

It scratched an itch I had since….

A half hour passed and I felt the glue paste lose its elasticity. Patience is what I needed most and I wasn’t having it one bit. I tried shaking off the gunk, pulling and kicking as much as I could, the a/c groaned as the metal began to strain at my superhuman strength. I wanted to be free of that rusty piece of junk. My efforts worked as the plate tore off by its bolts. The plate remained on my back, but at the very least I was standing on my own.

Like a pudgy marshmallow lady, I took awkward steps forward. No destination in mind, I just had to keep moving forwards.

I was doing well enough until a foot got really attached to a specific tile mid stride. I lost balance, my pudgy arms flapped, and I fell facedown.

My mom must have been worried sick, my dinner going cold. I could have gone for a beef patty at that moment.

She always told me that things had to get worse before they got better.

Bird shit struck the back of my head, seeping into the fabric and into my hair.

I needed a cigarette.