Young Writers Society

On my way to find a cigarette, I witnessed everything RatKing did.

Collateral damage laid across the city, another gaping wound to add to the list. The financial district was littered with fallen debris and pieces of The Hero Bank of America, white marble crushing more geometric architecture that was more prevalent in this side of town.

Emergency services had been helping with the rescue efforts, although not many people were out on the streets during the heist there were still those who couldn’t leave their buildings or were stuck inside their cars. But by the time I had gotten there most of them were already looked after.

Until I came across Union Park.

The innocent pocket of greenery was covered with dark body bags from all sides. There were reporters being held back by various police officers as their morbid curiosity snuck in a couple of snapshots between the lines.

SNAP

SNAP

SNAP

They wanted to take a closer look at the victims of RatKing’s brutality. Dive bombing past the traffic barricade thingies almost breaking their cameras and camcorders as they ran over each other. The police responded with batons that cracked awful wet destruction of the cartilage of their noses. Unapologetically hungry for rotting meat. Violence always sells.

I flipped open one of the body bags and underneath was an elderly white man wearing an orange domino mask with his bottom jaw nowhere to be found. It was Mr. Hex, with sandy hair and usually sun kissed cheeks were now a ghoulish white, his eyes already shut. He could make other people unlucky with a “hex”, only being able to end it through his verbal command. I remembered seeing him as a girl on TV, cereal commercials, mostly advocating for a moral lifestyle and corny dad-jokes. It had been years since he fought any real crime, he didn’t bother anyone. For the sake of his dignity I close the body bag up with haste.

I expected regular people to die. Cops, security guards, innocent bystanders. It was unpleasant but that is just the rule of this city, this country, this world. People without power suffer more compared to those with power. But seeing one of my own be killed like that wasn’t right.

An airy voice drew my attention away from the field of plastic covered bodies, “It was only a matter of time for Hex. I just thought the kid would’ve gone out more peaceably.”

I turned to meet with Overlord. You couldn’t miss him, his overbearingly large helmet was magnetic for the sight. Curving upwards like some kind of jaw-bone were horns with molars protruding up, and the helm itself was like a dirty skull. His entire body was wrapped like an egyptian mummy, brownish linen that appeared older than he already was. And of course, a tattered black cloak swaying behind him.

“What’s dead is dead, it is better to attend to the living. Speaking of, who might you be?”

“Oh! Uuuh- Overlord, its-it's an honor! My name is Power-Jack.”, I was fortunate he couldn’t see my blush of embarrassment.

“Mmmm. I saw you rush head first into that flying ugly building… I couldn’t help but worry. If you aren’t careful, even the most experienced of us Heroes can fall.” he said while gesturing to poor Mr. Hex.

Saying that Mr. Hex was experienced was one thing for sure, but Overlord wasn’t just experienced he was part of entire chapters in the textbooks they made us study in the academy. In fact, I had to write an essay on how he was able to live peacefully while having the strength to move mountains. Generations of Heroes had used the same knowledge of his techniques to master their own skills in a world that could collapse at any moment.

I was taken aback a bit, not only because I couldn’t figure out where his eyes were inside the vortex of his Skullmet’s sockets but the fact that he saw me actually go into the bank. I tilt my head in thought as I simply stared back, unable to read his expression.

“I would have joined you but… there were external factors.”

I would have preferred more elaboration but I couldn’t bother to impose too much on him. Who was I to pester him about stuff he already understood?

“Well no hard feelings Sir! I’m no small fry when it comes to battle.”

He gave a very… hollow laugh. Like he had nothing inside of him. It was shrill yet not without real humor. He was a living echo I supposed, living for such a long time and doing Hero work on top of that would drain even the best of us.

In a quieter and more urgent tone, I got closer to the old man and asked, “Was he the only one or-”

“No, But he will be the last!”

The stench of rotting flesh only became stronger as tears began to swell on my eyes. I was smart to use a mask for my outfit. I prayed that he told the truth.

After a moment of silence between the two of us, I withdrew my eyes from Mr. Hex’s resting spot and looking eastwards I said, “Well I guess they left the meanest ones for last huh?”

Despite all the commotion around us, Overlord’s wispy voice always managed to avoid all of it and into your soul.

He said, “Perhaps they did.”

I crossed my arms and asked, “You don’t happen to have any cigarettes? All this funk is giving me a headache.”

He didn’t respond, instead a louder and much more feminine voice slammed itself into our conversation.

“Ah fellow connoisseur! I gotta ask what's your preferred brand: Puff-o Huffs, Tim Polstacks, or do you like it with a bit of that Glass, hmm? Oh don’t be so coy, we’re all adults here right? We can go a little hard every once and a while, we’re heroes!”

The woman who just walked up to us did not look like a “Hero” in the traditional sense or even professionally. She was wearing a white pinstripe suit and tie with a silver badge hanging on her breast pocket with a gun holster on her hip. Her hair was jet black, her skin was fair and eyes were an inquisitive violet. She looked a decade older than me at most. She did not smell like she smoked, instead she had a really nice perfume on though.

For her first question I said, “None of that, I like Despotine. It’s strong on the senses.”

The lady groped the inside of her jacket, murmuring about how I might as well huff on diesel. She pulled out my preferred brand and offered me the whole box. I graciously accepted and thanked her as she lit up my cig with her lighter.

I asked her, “You hate Despotine yet you carry one box?”

A smile creeped across her cheeks, “I’m a… collector of sorts. You know how sometimes there's little cards they put in them to get you to buy and smoke more, like a game. There's whole trading cards that have Superheroes on em’. Mostly big names: Gigantressa, Overlord, Godspeed… but every once in a while they let in one of the rookies as a limited time promotional thing. Hey, if you survive long enough maybe they’ll strike you a deal, God knows how much they’d kill for it!”

“Despotine doesn’t have trading cards.” I said frankly.

Her eyes open in surprise as if she nearly missed hitting a small family with her car, but then scrunches her face, confused as she snatched the box she just gave me.

“Huh, shit… this bank heist I tell you! It’s messing with my focus. You got a good eye on you sweetie, even after tussling with the Apostates singlehandedly.”

Apostates. I heard that name before, probably in the news, perhaps in school. That’s what I wanted to find out more. I asked her about these Villains: RatKing and the Wolfman, what was their deal. She gave a smirk as she pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to me,

“Stay in touch champ, can’t say much right now about those boys, see this profession is a bit like the animal kingdom: the biggest dog gets the first bite. Regardless, we’ll see each other soon enough.”

On the card it said, including a phone number:

Detective Nubia Smith,

Anti-Villain Intelligence Agency

California State

I bit my tongue, not wanting to say, “You showed up just in time.” right to her face.

But before I could continue talking to her she walked off as she saluted at me, slinking into the tussling crowd of rabid sorry-excuses for journalists.

“What a strange woman.” Overlord finally spoke.

“It's cause she's from Cali.”

I didn’t bother speaking to any other Hero that showed up. I had done enough and wasn’t interested in making small talk or how I managed to survive against the Villains, barely even passing a glance at the police that just loved to look at me. But I heard what my caped pals had to say about me underneath their breaths,

“Who’s that then?”

“New girl, fresh out of the menagerie. She went in by herself, she fought Andre.”

“Tough as nails. You think she eats them too?”

“I’ve never seen her before, yo I wonder if she's single.”

“I doubt she is, with youth comes great excess. We all wish to go back to those times… all that freedom.”

“Oh I’d like to get to know her, the rabbit theme is so cute!”

For a moment, I thought about going to them to have a little chat, but you could still slide a pencil through the gaping hole through my arm. Scorch marks on my body started to fade but flies kept buzzing over me, expecting death to come soon. My stomach growled something fierce, reminding me of my neglect.

I didn’t kill easily.

As I traveled back to my house, the constant hum and drum of the city continued to pound into my gray matter. Sirens that never stopped, V8 engines revved and roared spitting out nastiness into the ever accumulating smog that I had the pleasure of breathing in every morning, the incessant talk of everybody saying nothing, as if being yelled into my ears. And if it weren’t for the ciggy earlier, the acidic fumes of overflowing sewer water would be another reason to finally listen to my mother and move out.

I’ve thought about moving out of New Geweld, only because mom insisted. She’s said that maybe the suburbs would be better for my senses or maybe out west. I can’t leave, it’s impossible. It was my home, I owed it. I wasn’t going to run away for something as little as that. Besides, there wasn’t much out west, just miles of wasteland and tribes that didn’t even have plumbing, no place for a city girl like me.

The wind was picking up, air currents waned behind me, ruined cloth rippled against it all. Once again my mother would have to fix my suit, I should’ve learned how to do it for her. What did it cost to sit down and let her show me how?

After stopping a few muggings, roughing up a couple of Villains that didn’t even have the decency to wear costumes, and stopping a garbage truck from falling into a sinkhole, I arrived at Vino Heights.

Untouched by the fires of the financial district and peacefully resting in the far east corner of the city. Although not without its fair share of scars, it was home. One year is all it took before I clobbered anyone who dared to question my authority. No more gangs, no Villains, no more squabbles. People went out more, kids could play on the streets without some drunk idiot thinking they were a nascarter. More business started to open up, more jobs. A Cauca Manufactorum, once abandoned ages ago from repeated Villain attacks, reopened. It was looking up for us. I was proud, mom was proud.

But the city only took. City hall could do fuck all for infrastructure. The lead paint buildings and houses that have stood for more than three centuries peeled and crumbled. The asphalt and the sidewalks would sometimes twist like gnarly scars, exposing the neighborhood’s metal intestines. Quasi monsters came out of the pipes and attacked people, as I stomped ‘em back in. Why they started appearing I had no idea. They were fun to kick around though. But because of that the subway was abandoned so less people could commute to the industrial district for work. That wasn’t even the worst part.

The neighborhood was sinking.

Last month, an entire apartment complex by the bay collapsed into the ocean. I saved as many people as I could. A little girl drowned as she was reaching out for me.

It was probably midnight, mom hated when I stayed up late so many days in a row. She didn’t understand what's at stake here, she never did.

I hated paperwork with every fiber of my being. But I continued to file complaints to any city official and even the state senators. I visited the mayor's office on my birthday for crying out loud. Pleading to them to do something about this insanity. What if it's my house next? What if my moms’ home and I’m not there? I hated the thought of working with others, but Vino Heights could use a few more Heroes. I wasn't blind to the truth. It isn’t like how I was as a kid, there can be profit and logically Heroes should be stationed here!

I landed on a small front lawn, trimmed grass on my feet was comforting but small in the grand scheme of things. I heard the TV and mom sitting on the front couch most definitely, she was snoring. Once again she waited all alone in our two story house. With the money I had earned throughout the year I renovated it to look presentable. Nothing too crazy, got rid of the lead paint and all the other rotten things it held. Ok it was a little crazy. We had to almost rebuild it from the ground up. But it was worth it, nicer to live in at least. We didn’t need to open the oven up in the winter.

TICK-TOCK

I checked the mailbox. Hoping that someone with a little bit of consideration had answered my prayers. Resting one hand on the box I flipped through the envelopes. Nothing, more nothing, an extra bit of nothing, and of course… nothing.

TICK-TOCK

The sound of folding metal drew me from furious fixations. I crushed the mailbox.

TICK-TOCK

Once inside I see my mom sleeping in the exact way I imagined. The crook of her neck was held up by soft pink pillows and her feet were kicked up on the ottoman with slippers still on. Her silk blue head scarf she always wore was half off. Turning off the TV I draped a blanket over her, as she subconsciously scrunched into a more comfortable position.

TICK-TOCK

What time did she come back from the church? Did she catch the news? Why can’t she sleep in her bed like a normal person?!

I snorted in amazement as I threw my mask and gloves haphazardly into a bin. I pulled off my socks blackened and torn and banished them into the trash.

TICK-TOCK

The big grandfather clock that belonged to the house's previous owners still remained in the living room, ticking and tocking loud enough to be heard everywhere within. Could have sworn my mother would have wanted to be gone from it. It was large and tacky, wooden embellishment whose clock didn’t actually work. At one point it could be 1pm while it was 3am or it got stuck at 12am. Mom said it was a reminder of what little we have so that's why she hates when I (jokingly) said I’d hurl it towards the next Villain I run into. I’d sure love to see RatKing eat shit as his glider collides with old-ass carpentry.

TICK-TOCK

A crispy smell lingered in the air. Warm and welcoming, everything my mom would be if she was awake. It came from the kitchen and I was compelled to follow.

TICK-TOCK

I walked down the long shadowy hallway that led from the front door to the back kitchen. The wood on the floor was cold, like it wanted me to stay off of it. The framed photos that hung along the walls. Mom, dad, me… relatives and pictures of past functions and barbecues. What most confused me were the pictures of me, I didn’t remember them. Past a certain age I had trouble piecing things together. I do remember playing soccer a lot, I remember my cousins, nieces and nephews. What fun that was. I remember school but not for anything good. My head wasn’t good for numbers or science or whatever made you a lot of money for knowing, and I was no hustler. I looked at the one photo of me wearing a pink shirt and paper rabbit ears I made.

TICK-TOCK

I wanted to be a Superhero more than anything. I thought I was special, that my powers were given to me as a gift to do good. The world I lived in was broken and I thought I could help. But why did I think that? Most days I rationalized that I didn’t need a reason, helping people in need is good and shouldn’t be questioned.

TICK-TOCK

What was that noise?

TICK-TOCK

The amount of joy that I take from going out on wild crusades to fight evil and protect the innocent was concerning because of moments like this. How did I function before? What did I do to make my mind quiet? I loved to squabble. I loved to get hit. I loved dancing with death as it nearly dropped me on the floor head first as it dipped me. I loved the way RatKing’s heart rushed with blood. How badly that slippery coward wanted me dead.

TICK-TOCK

Dim yellow light emanating from the ceiling fan covered the kitchen like a warm blanket. On the dinner table was a plate wrapped in tinfoil. I pulled the metal back gently.

Goat curry patties.

Dad’s favorite.

My favorite.

I wasn’t hungry anymore. The odor that pervaded matched its pungentness and soured my heart. Nothing good came from it. And that stupid clock refused to shut up, a reminder of the debt I had for the people around me. My eyes began to burn. I couldn’t just leave it there, what a shame it would be. But eating it wasn’t an option either in my hare-brained mind. I stood completely still.

Damn it

Damn this city

Damn the government

Damn the weak

Damn love

Damn everything….

“Daisy Doe….”

I spun around, hands clutching my chest, staring down the dark hallway at the front door.

Whoever spoke knocked on the wood as it echoed throughout the house, bouncing off the walls. I stalked towards it immediately, careful to step on the floorboards that squeaked the least.

“I know you can hear me… I just wanted to speak to you. In privacy, away from the chaos.”

My mind did backward flips, retracing my steps throughout the day. The voice was but a whisper, impossible to tell who it could have belonged to past the walls.

The hallway grew longer and longer past every step. I didn’t want to rush just in case they were prepared for a fight.

The stranger knocked once again but firmer. I hoped mom didn’t wake up to this.

“The truth is that I’ve been following you… not right… but it’s important. I mean you… and your mother… no harm.”

My heart threatened to fall straight out of my body and on the cold floor. I go faster, not caring if they heard me approach.

As I got to the door, my face inches away from the peep-hole, I focused. A dog barking, another siren, a group of what could be rats or squirrels munching on garbage. Not a single heartbeat stood on the other side.

TICK-TOCK

The floor started to move on its own, shifting and trembling. The photos down the hall fell from the walls, the pottery in the sink clanged a horrendous soundtrack made to bleed out eardrums. The lights would flicker on and off as I stared at my mother still laying on the couch unphased by the madness that occurred all around her. How could she be so calm?

TICK-TOCK

They knocked again, shaking the entire foundation. Everything I ever did, what I knew, what I could still remember was going to be ripped away from me!

TICK-TOCK

My hands formed into fists as my nails nearly pierced through my skin, my jaw refused to relax as I felt my teeth be put to the test, pins and needles all over me as my muscles tensed. I prepared my legs, getting ready to decapitate whoever dared to threaten me and my family.

TICK-TOCK

“Daisy… don’t be afraid. This is not my doing.”

TICK-TOCK

I swung the door open as the trembling stopped, I heard the voice clearly. Overlord was standing in front of my doorway.

“Jeezus… I’m… you. Why did you do that?!” I let out a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t. Oh you meant the following. Mmm yes, not appropriate.”

I scratched my head, ruffling my brown coily hair trying to focus on what was actually happening, “Do you… need anything… Sir?”

I could have asked him how he knew my name at all but I figured that was besides the point. This was important, it had to be.

“I wanted to speak to you about the Apostates. You said you faced RatKing and the wolf, Andre, am I correct?”

Andre? That sounded like a pretty mundane name, absolutely no aura to it. However a Hero did mention it back at the park. I said yes to which he asked again and if I was sure. I told him to hurry up in the most polite way possible because I was tired.

“The truth is Daisy… things are going to get far more bleak for New Geweld. Those degenerates you fought, well, this wasn’t their first attack. I’ve been tracking them for a long time.”, his voice was full of resentment.

I leaned against the door frame looking down as I listened intently to what the Senior Hero had to say. Any joke I could have thought of disappeared.

“What happened yesterday… was akin to how things used to be. Bloodshed and war throughout the land. No laws or order. Villain Gangs preying on the weak and defenseless on such a large scale, threatening the safety of the country. Young Power-Jack, you could have died.”

“And?”

“And you didn’t. Vino Heights is your home, you protect it and I respect that. But hear me this: with the Apostates setting up New Geweld as their new hunting ground, your people won’t be safe.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, not out of disrespect mind you but, what was he talking about? What about Vino Heights made it a target for ballsy cocksmokers like them? I didn’t imagine them robbing Niko’s Deli or Broker Jewelry and Loan.

He reached his hand out, inviting me to step outside of my home. I hesitated, staring into the abyss inside his overbearing helmet, yet I took his hand anyway.

We walked to the edge of my front lawn as he gestured to the neighborhood.

“Look at this place Daisy. What does it make you feel?”

Hope.

“It’s important to me, not that many people care.” I said, averting my eyes towards the ground.

His cloak fluttered in the wind masking itself into the night, his voice turned harsher then the teeth on his helmet.

“Exactly. Nobody cares about the consequences of their actions. The entire reason the United States and Quasi exist is because of the actions of very selfish people. Villainous people who take what they please, kill who they please, and rape without a second thought. They enslave and they scalp because it benefits them. Your Heights may not be of much in the way of tax revenue but the Apostates don’t care, they will find a way to ruin it. See that Cauca Manufactorum? They will come for it, and you will let them. Getting involved will only cause more damage. People with super powers have the tendency to think they are above everyone, which leads to the weak getting preyed upon first, I’ve seen it. The ground beneath your feet will give up on you… you will fall into the bottomless eternity of the ocean… everything you fought so hard to achieve will end. Unless, you avoid the Apostates at all costs!”

I looked at him… absolutely dumbfounded. I place my hands on my hips and let out a hearty laugh.

“Ok, ok… I didn’t expect you to be this dramatic, Mr… Overlord. I’ve dealt with gangs before and Quasi ain’t shit without formal training. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

I guess he must have been unconvinced by my audacity. Next time I run into them Apostates I gotta make sure the news sees it! Plus, I couldn’t wait to see what other mean bastards they had in their midst, cause there ain’t no way he’s telling me to look out for RatKing.

“This isn’t a game, young Daisy. This city is on its last legs, you can feel it can’t you? It is being lowered into a grave, and the Apostates will be the last nail.”

I started to lose some patience, “Oh yeah? Then why haven’t you stopped them?”

He paused, almost taken aback, until he spoke in a very quiet tone, “They possess things I do not have, which makes them particularly unpredictable.”

“And what makes you think I don’t got what it takes?”

“That's not what I mean and you know it! This is a warning… protect your future… look after your family… and leave the Apostates to me.”

I sighed in irritation, turning my back to him as I walked back inside. I was too tired to go on yapping with strange characters till the sun rose. Perhaps Overlord and mom would be besties, they both encouraged me to run from my problems instead of grabbin’ em by the horns or in my case coat and fur. I told him that I’d leave the Super Villain hunt to him just so he could stop wasting my time. If what he says is true, that the Apostates were the baddest of the bad, rapists, murderers and whatnot, then by God if they make any noise in this town, so much as a pin drop… then I’ll be on them before anyone knows it.

I felt his gaze until I shut the door behind me. For a moment I felt a little bad for the way I reacted. He said good-bye, his voice trembled a bit as he did. I stood on my belief as is my right and legally I can do whatever I wanted to. It was time for my peers, no matter how old or experienced, that I was here to make a difference and they had to start taking me seriously. No more is that little girl with the silly paper ears… she died a long time ago.

I sludged up the stairs, the weight of gravity and time pulling at my eyelids and shoulders. I had an urgent date with DJ Pillow and MC Blankie, and nothing was going to stop me.

Until I heard someone who finally decided to wake up, “Aye, Daisy. Are ya safe?”

I looked down the staircase railings, unable to see my mom but wondering if she had the energy to get up to her room. It was worrying how easily she slept through all of that. For the best anyways, my mom was a scaredy cat, and the sight of Overlord might have been too much for her this late in the morning.

I raised my voice a bit so she could hear me, “Yes mommy, I made it back not too long.”

She croaked between yawns, “Right, right… I left sum dinner for you. Did ya catch it?”

“Yes… it was very good. I’m going to bed now… love you.” I said as I sped up the stairs towards my pink door.

I went into my room knocking off all the plush animals I had carefully placed the morning before with one wave of my hand and dived into the covers. The dirt and smudge from my battle with that bastard RatKing and his monster got all over my beige sheets. My costume reeked of awful. Fuck it, I’ll shower and do laundry in the morning I thought deliriously as my mind slowly drifted into silence.

My mom said, “God bless, child, God bless.”

If only her voice was the last thing I heard. Instead I had the grandfather clock pestering me as I fell asleep, invading my dreams.

TICK-TOCK

TICK-TOCK

TICK-TOCK

Those patties were untouched and cold by the time the sun rose.