Young Writers Society

The meeting back at the courthouse left me dissatisfied yet my ex-roommate could barely contain her excitement. While we waited for our orders to arrive she wouldn’t stop yapping about her feelings on the situation,

“A Superhero team. Could anyone believe it? And we’re going to be a part of it, you think if it gets more successful we’ll have matching uniforms?”

I rolled my eyes, “I didn’t sign anything.”

Her cheerfulness deflated almost immediately, “Oh… right well… we all fight for the same cause so I suppose....”

“I know that, but I’ll be in charge of myself.”

“You could still do that in a team, you’d just have to think about other people. Don’t you already do that?”

I sighed, “Look, I just don’t want to be a part of a team. I work better alone.”

The only thing filling up the silence was the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, the clanking of porcelain, the clashing of forks and knives, and the jukebox playing happy tunes that made me feel like playing guitar. I rubbed the bottom of the table, picking at the dried gum now that I was older and mom wasn’t there to scold me.

Humphry’s was a very homey diner on the middle point between Vino Heights and Quail. Across the street were a few townhomes that once upon a time didn’t sag so much and were less dull. Me and Ahyoka were glad we could just go over the traffic that was piling up.

We both thanked the young waitress who arrived with our drinks. I ordered a black coffee and Ahyoka had the strawberry milkshake I recommended. I sipped on the dark liquid, the smell of the vapors entered my brain and tickled it compared to the toxic slap New Geweld had in store when I stepped outside. Ahyoka’s milkshake smelt so sweet, so fresh and creamy. But her sight was on the table.

Inside I began to regret my previous words. I didn’t have a problem with her, and we worked well back in school. If I theoretically joined a group or anything then Thunderbird would be first on the roster. She was kind, brave, and strong which is all you needed to be as a Superhero.

A small smirk creeped onto my face and I raised an eyebrow, pouring a bit of sugar into my coffee, “So… do you want to know about the time I fought a sea witch?”

Ahyoka lit up like a lightbulb with blue sparks dazzling in delight, at how I, using rubber cables, a bicycle lock, and engine grease, slingshotted myself into the sea witch’s tidal form.

We shared a good laugh until she realized I did not tell her what happened with RatKing and Andre. I went into great flamboyant detail of my battle against the super-powered criminals. Not to the point of lying mind you but let's just say I was very descriptive. Ahyoka’s face lit up once more as she heard my tale of heroism, every flourish of words and fanciful onomatopoeia must have finally had a resemblance of the promises made to us when we first applied to Godspeed Academy.

Ahyoka asked, “Why is his name Andre? It’s too normal, no?”

I corrected her, “It was a government asset at one point. It was given a name. Why does it matter? Me and you will be the ones to take that thing down.”

“Like kill him?”

Would I kill the wolfman? I thought about whether or not he was sentient or if he could even talk. What would it even want to say? Could you arrest it?

I looked out the window and said, “We’ll stop them. All of them. Together.”

Past the antiquated music and the mug shattering on the kitchen floor, was a most interesting sound. There was banging and thrashing, mixed with the frightened honking of car horns and a noise that vaguely resembled a sports chant. Traffic stopped all together, with drivers and passengers all exiting their vehicles frantically, abandoning them in the middle of the road as they all huddled up on the sidewalk.

Me and Ahyoka shared a cautious glance, placing our drinks down and putting our masks on.

“What do your rabbit ears tell you?” asked Ahyoka.

I noticed that the noise was coming from both ends of the street and was confused. The banging was actually the sound of drums and other percussion instruments. It was like two opposing marching bands were bound to meet in the middle of the street. Two familiar names were thrown into the lyrics.

One side said, “Make way for prestigious Montago!”, while the other said, “Cabulet skewers the opposition!”

“No….” I said silently, “No, no, no. Not here.” I got up in a dash, weaving past a waiter who nearly dropped his tray. I exited the diner and saw two people standing across from the other. Both were standing on top of cars, and with a uniquely gaudy outfit to match their level of disruption. The dynamic duo responsible for the political turmoil in New Geweld and champions of local government:

Montago and Cabulet.

Both were of the same age, around their late thirties. Montago had a blood red cape that could slide through any crack and not get caught or torn. He was rather elegant in his golden suit with metal padding that resembled a chiseled olympian body. While Cabulet wore a feathered cap and a leather vest, he was a bit shorter than Montago and with more facial hair that was as black as coal.

Hordes of young men massed on each side of the street, clamoring and nudging into one another like rats. Faces painted furious red and proud blue and with a pale imitation of their royal duds and shiny garb, they looked no different from your typical superfan. And come to think of it most of them started out like that. They resembled tribals almost, but with an urban twist, substituting spears, arrows, and clubs with spiked baseball bats, machetes, and steel chains. Chanting war hymns till their voices cracked, but not nearly loud enough to drown out the city's pounding industry.

Ahyoka exclaimed in part astonishment and part annoyance, “Shit, Supervillains! I guess the pancakes can wait.”

I felt a stone drag my heart into my stomach as I said to her, “Those are New Gewelds finest Superheroes, Birdie.”

She arched her brow at such absurdity. Her winds calmed down a bit as her shoulders slumped and she asked me to elaborate further.

“Legacy Heroes, Montago and Cabulet bloodline. They have a vested interest in politics and other forms of disruption.” I muttered, staring at the coming battle, so dangerously close to Vino Heights.

“Well, can’t you just tell them to leave?”

I thought about many things before the idea of asking them politely came to mind. When I first encountered Mont and Cab I mistook them for Supervillains too. Not because of their dress or anything but the scene they were a part of. A group of young boys were beating on an old man because he wasn’t in agreement with their political views while Mont and Cab watched. I dispersed the hooligans and helped the man to medical attention. Cabulet was furious and looked ready to stick his finger knives into my face but Montago held him back. He forgave me, saying that it was simply a matter of “democracy”. He understood I was new to the business and agreed not to come close to Vino Heights with their demonstrations.

So much for that understanding.

They start talking about the laws of ancient combat or some tribal nonsense. A single gun was fired into the air, which gave the greenlight to clash. Teeth and blood started flying like shrapnel. I walked past the men bashing each other's heads and hopped over the ones rolling around the rough asphalt. I confronted the two, Ahyoka close behind.

But before I could raise my finger and open my mouth Montago flashed a cheeky smile my way. He yelled out, “Cabulet, behold, fair maidens approach us!”

He reached for my hand, I ignored him. His disposition barely changed in the midst of so much hooliganry. Cabulet does the same for Ahyoka yet she reciprocates, his heartbeat is louder than the war drums and cracking of bone around us, his eyes unmoving from her person. Bless her heart, she didn’t notice, or she did well enough to not show it.

I crossed my arms, “Don’t, ‘fair maidens’ us you asshole. You gave me your word, Vino Heights is my turf. Tell these people to disperse or I will.”

Cabulet, still incapable of letting go of Ahyoka’s hand, says, “True, you’re too rough to be fair. Unlike this little bird, who might you be?”

Her face was stiff as she loosened her grip from the man, “My name is Thunderbird, you must be Capulet?”

His hand quickly recoiled and flexed his fingers, grasping at nothing, “It’s CABULET, you-”

Montago lightly smacked him upside the head, “Now I did agree to that. But the redlining is a bit fickle. This humble establishment, Humphry’s stands on the edge of the district, the street acting as a sort of no-man's land. The other side isn’t yours so really there isn’t any need to get all uppity, sweetheart.”

I saw a boy nearly get his eyes gouged out as a horrible noise came out of his bloody mouth. A family unable to leave their car held each other as the mob smashed the windshield, the parents were dragged out and robbed. I did nothing, Ahyoka did nothing.

“This isn’t the way Superheroes are supposed to act! This can’t be legal, please just tell them to stop!” cried Ahyoka.

“Of course it’s not legal, little bird. It's deserved. The police are good friends of ours, and these are responsible able bodied voters, tax payers. We let them release all the frustration and give them hope that whoever they bleed for will save them from their problems. Superheroes are all about giving hope, right?”

A screech pierced the air, “IT’S A CLOTTING SUPERVILLAIN!”

Our attention was brought down the street, all four of us dropped everything and dashed to the scene within the scene. A Supervillain? I thought hopefully that could be enough to sober everyone up.

It was a man with bits of metal rolled around him, encasing his body in a cocoon of steel. The mob dispersed in terror as their weapons floated out of their grasps and stuck to the ever growing ball of a man. Underneath all of the junk, his heart pounded, unlike the way Cabulet as he stared hungrily at my friend. His eyes were wide, a license plate was wrapped across his mouth, pained muffles where all I could hear.

I tell him, “Wait a sec buddy! Stop doing that and we’ll sort you out!”

Definitely trying to impress Ahyoka, Cabulet let out a fierce battle cry and said “We’ll sort you out indeed, knave!”. However when he charged his cry floundered into a whimper as the metal in his bones were pulled towards the ball.

Montago barely hid the amusement in his voice, “Cabulet, my good man, what have you done to yourself?”

“Shut up you moron and help me!” said the short man as he wiggled fruitlessly, legs slipping on nothing.

Montago gave no indication that he was going to do anything, and I tried to pull Cabulet out by myself, figuring it impossible to do so without ripping him apart, and the more metal I tore off the more it replaced cars, garbage cans, street poles, and houses.

I thought for sure it would have been over for Cabulet if a particularly sharp piece of debris went through him. Ahyoka’s face then lit up as she told the older Hero and the panicking Villain to calm down as she placed her hands on the evergrowing mass. A dim blue light passed through us all, I felt a tingle through my body, then suddenly Cabulet was freed, gasping for air as he stopped being crushed under magnetic pressure.

Although the metal did not fall off the Villain in one go, I still congratulated Ahyoka for her quick thinking. Employing an electromagnetic pulse with her powers to negate the attraction was intuitive. The Villain’s heart rate slowed down, as more pieces dropped, the license plate peeled back as he uttered, voice cracking, “Thank you… I don’t know what happened… what came over me, it was an accident!”

I looked at him skeptically, “We’ll see about that. Let's get you cleaned up and to a-”

BANG!

The Villain turned into a smoldering ball of black fire, molten black ball shot backwards into the slumped town house, exploding in the process. The block shook violently as Ahyoka was knocked back, her head nearly smacking onto the hard ground if I hadn’t caught her. However the blast knocked her unconscious and for a moment unresponsive. The crowd of ruffians that were once fighting watched in awe as the black flames spread from building to building.

Montago’s fist was outstretched, covered in the same black fire pointed where the Villain once stood trembling.

Both Montago and Cabulet brushed off the dust off their shoulders, the taller man said, “Don’t be afraid, everyone! The fires won’t harm you, I'll make sure of it. What say we have an intermission? Go in there and see what you can grab!”

“You heard em’ boys, we have ourselves a truce!”

And as I held onto Ahyoka’s body the horde of fanatics rushed into the flames, and completely unharmed they ran out with chests and furniture, clothes and money.

A quasi man with a single horn sticking out above his right ear ran up to Montago, babbling desperately, begging to the Hero to put out the flames and for the hooligans to leave the house because his girlfriend was still inside.

Montego looked at him with the implication of sympathy and asked if he was a voter. The man raised his voice, confused at what that had to do with his girlfriend being burned alive, Cabulet stuck a metal claw up his nostril, nearly cutting it open from the inside.

Bleeding and distraught, the man stepped back, Montago asked him once again if he would vote.

The man said yes.

“I don’t know your woman, little quasi, or if she votes, but you may have time to save her.”

The quasi rushes past the hooligans, desperately swimming against a wave of brutality and ignorance. I heard everything and my head was pounding. All I could do was stare agape at the two Heroes, at the mob, the quasi failing to get through his front door, at the black fire that was destroying a memory of my childhood and sacking it.

I picked up Ahyoka and walked back to Humphry’s.

As I stepped over bodies of the young hooligans, I noticed not all were breathing.

I kept moving.

A feeble hand grabbed my ankle, I looked down, and whether they were Montago or Cabulet was hard to tell for the paint on their face resembled a brown oily muck that smelled like blood and sewer water. His eyes were young and bright. His lung was punctured.

“Please… save me.” he said, voice ghostly and lost.

I stepped over him, and returned to the diner.

I sat us both down as I stared into my pancakes that had been served since who knows when.

I poked at them with a fork.

Ahyoka woke up, eyes fluttered open, her dark hair was a mess even though I had tried to fix it. She asked me, “What happened?”

I wanted to know the same clotting thing.