The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2) (6 page)

I paused for dramatic effect, ready to get to the meet of my argument. “You need to join me because you're in danger of falling off the radar.”

“Excuse me?” Angel Eyes asked, offended.

I gestured to myself. “I'm the new hotness. Everyone is talking about Merciless. The whole doomed tragic lover thing you've got is last Thursday. You're not even a vampire, so you can't attract the supernatural romance crowd. Bluntly, Angel Eyes, you're in danger of going stale.”

Angel Eyes was the Chosen of Aphrodite and a demigod. While I wasn't exactly boned up on my
Bulfinch’s Mythology
, I knew enough about the Greek Gods to know they were all vain as hell. I figured a supervillain Olympian had to be even more so, especially one whose story has gone down in history as an example of self-love. Maybe playing to his ego wasn't the most original plan in the world but I suspected it would work.

Angel Eyes looked at me for several seconds then lowered his gaze. “It bothers me I'm listening to you despite your transparent attempts at manipulation.”

“It's because you know I'm right.” I waved my hands around as I talked for emphasis. “Like every actor and musician, you need regular re-invention. I mean, an opera house and a plaster mask? You're not doing yourself any favors by ripping off Andrew Lloyd Weber.”

“Gaston Leroux wrote the
Phantom of the Opera
,” Angel Eyes corrected me. Looking at me for a moment, his shoulders slumped and he turned away. “I have noticed a drop in media attention relating to my crimes. What do you suggest?”

I decided not to mention that was probably because of the apocalypse going on outside. “You need to think big.” I gestured to the ceiling. “Start by getting some cross-promotion. Do some team-ups and work outside of Falconcrest City. Utilize social-media marketing. You also need some new material.”

“New material?” Angel Eyes asked, bewildered.

“Take this whole, 'kidnapping super-people's wives to threaten them' thing. It's so old-fashioned it might as well be fossilized. I mean, what were you going to do for a grand finale? Tie Mandy to a set of train tracks? Angel Eyes, you need me.” I put my left hand over my heart.

“Tying someone to train tracks is actually terrifying,” Angel Eyes said, looking thoughtful. “Clearly, you have never seen the aftereffects.”

I made finger guns at his chest. “Trust me. Together, we will
go places
.”

Cindy leaned over to Diabloman. “Is he arguing he should be his boss or his agent?”

“Be quiet!” Diabloman snapped. “The Boss is working.”

Cindy snorted and looked away.

Angel Eyes was silent before answering. “I suppose I could agree to an
alliance
.”

“That's the spirit.” I put my right arm over his shoulder. I was almost overpowered by the strength of his cologne and immense beauty at this close of a range.

Angel Eyes glared at me. “No touching, please.”

His words shook me out of my gaze and I pulled away as if electrified. “Not like I want to touch you anyway.” I cleaned my hand off on my cloak.

“
There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Gary. Just because you're attracted to the most beautiful man in the world doesn't mean
...”

“Never speak of that again.”

I noticed Angel Eyes was talking to me. “It is wrong for me to not receive the highest amount of attention in the city and you might be onto something I need to update myself. I will spare your life and allow you to have Mrs. Karkofsky.”

“What was that?
Allow
?” Mandy said, looking over at him.

Oooo! He was going to pay for that.

Angel Eyes didn’t seem to notice Mandy’s reaction. “Of course, now I'll have to break it off with my other partner.”

“Other partner?” I asked.

Angel Eyes looked to one side. “Yes, I may have sold your location to another supervillain in hopes of getting rid of you.”

Mandy stared at him.

“Who?” Then the answer hit me. “Oh crap.”

Seconds later, as if God himself was trying to make sure the humor potential was maximized, the Ice Cream Man drove a gigantic brown, white, and pink steamroller through the wall. The undead supervillain had become even more hideous, his face having mostly rotted off by now.

“Hey, Merciless! Glad you could make it!” The Ice Cream Man shouted, standing up on top of the steam-roller with another bazooka shaped like an ice cream cone.

The Ice Cream Man was the former leader of the Malt Shop Gang and the third-most famous supervillain in the Midwest. He was dressed in a pink button-down shirt, white pants, suspenders, and a little paper hat. The Ice Cream Man also had cut off his lips and sharpened his teeth to shark-like levels. The Ice Cream Man would have looked terrifying even without the fact he was bloated from decay. A foul stench wafted from his hideously diseased undead frame even from across the hall. I’d killed him last month but he hadn’t stayed dead, being the first of Falconcrest City’s supervillains to rise. Apparently, he was still sore at me for the whole murdering him thing.

Before I could react, he fired his bazooka and a shell of some kind landed at my feet. I managed to grab Mandy and turn intangible but it wasn't acidic or explosive like I expected. Instead, a weird Neapolitan-colored smoke filled the room. Despite being intangible, I felt the gas enter my lungs and blackness claimed me.

Dammit.

I had a troubled mind.

I know, what a
shocking
revelation.

Seriously, though, I had always struggled with my inner demons. Even as a child, I'd been separated from others by my intelligence and a vague disquiet there was something terribly wrong with the universe. It wasn't my parents’ fault. They did everything in their power to make sure I'd grown up loved and safe but there are some things you're never prepared for.

My brother's murder.

My revenge.

Lost friends.

One consequence of this was the fact I often had dreams. Sometimes awake, most times asleep. These dreams which took me out of my head to the past. Psychotherapists said I just had an incredibly vivid imagination but I sometimes wondered if it wasn't something more. Either way, I'd been drugged by the Ice Cream Man and very possibly was going to die while unconscious. If I survived, it would only be because the Ice Cream Man was known to draw out his murders in order to save his victims’ pain.

Victims which now included Mandy.

Crap.

Floating through the endless void of my subconscious I found myself thinking back to the days which had set me on my current path. I didn't think of anytime in specific but just let my impulses drown me in a sea of memories.

There was comfort in those.

One of those memories took me to around two o'clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday of the year before my marriage to Mandy. I wasn't dating her yet, was in a committed relationship already, and was twenty-four and pursuing my masters in Unusual Criminology.

Staring out the window of a finely appointed office, I took in the sights of Falconcrest City University and its myriad Gothic buildings with thousands of students scurrying about. The office behind me had hundreds of psychological, mystical, and philosophical textbooks with oddball Eastern statues and mandalas. There was also a map on the wall of Atlantis, the mythical one versus the one which hosted the Summer Olympics last year.

I was undergoing therapy with one of my professors.

Which was probably a conflict of interests.

“So, your brother was the supervillain Stingray and killed by the antihero vigilante Shoot-Em-Up, yes?” Doctor Thule said, sitting in his chair with his notepad.

Doctor Thaddeus Thule was an elegant Austrian man in his mid-fifties with a body-builder's physique hidden underneath his custom-tailored pin-striped suit, thin square reflective glasses, and curly black beard. Both hands were covered in rings bearing mystical symbols. I've often described him as what would happen if you shaved Arnold Schwarzenegger bald, upped his IQ to 180, and tried to pass him off as an occult healer.

Doctor Thule was a double-holder of P.H.D's in both Psychology as well as Unusual Criminology. He was the key attraction of Falconcrest City University to serious students of both. Thaddeus had invented numerous techniques both magical and science-based for the treatment of sick minds with a specialty in the psychosis of supervillains. He also offered free psychological therapy to his students and quite a few of us had taken up his offer of it.

Later, of course, it would be discovered Doctor Thule was an agent of P.H.A.N.T.O.M and charged with locating extreme personalities with a gift for planning. Called the Super-Villain Maker, he crafted forty-two troubled souls into costumed criminals and terrorists for the sole purpose of distracting superheroes from his employer's evil schemes. Needless to say, the University's reputation took a serious hit after the Nightwalker exposed him.

Oh, and by the way, he had nothing to do with my decision to become a supervillain. I chose to do that
before
I met him.

“We've covered that, Doc, yes,” I said, looking back.

“How did that make you feel?” Doctor Thule asked, his voice vaguely mesmerizing.

“Angry,” I said, growling. “How do you think it made me feel?”

“And at fourteen you hunted him down and killed him,” Doctor Thule said.

I did a double take. “What did you say?”

“I said that must have been troubling for a boy your age,” Doctor Thule replied, smiling.

I blinked. “Yeah, yeah it was.”

“Do you think this resulted in your obsession with following in your brothers footsteps?” Doctor Thule asked.

“I wouldn't call it an obsession,” I said, sighing. “My brother wasn't a monster. He never killed anyone in his entire career. Sure, people died when he tried to take over Atlantis and during heists but that wasn't his fault.”

“Of course it wasn't,” Doctor Thule said. “I think your brother would be proud of your decision to do so.”

I looked at him. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” Doctor Thule said, putting his hand over his heart.

I wasn't so sure and even if I was sure, I wasn't so sure I was willing to do it anymore. Killing Shoot-Em-Up hadn't been enough to calm the raging beast inside me. I'd spent my high school years constantly getting into fights, trouble, and only pulled myself out of a downward spiral because I thought I might have a chance of redeeming my brother's legacy.

Lately, the anger wasn't there anymore, though. I'd started to think about other ways I could honor Keith. Had he just been a supervillain? No, he'd been other things. My brother had been a family man and a provider. I wanted a family for myself. For the first time, in a long time, I was starting to think maybe I could lay his ghosts to rest.

That was when I saw a yellow and gold streak across the sky.

Ultragoddess.

Seconds later, there was a knocking on the professor's door. Checking my cellphone, I saw it was time for my lunch date with Gabrielle Anders. “Oh sorry, I got lost in my reminiscing.”

Professor Thule looked annoyed. “A pity since I think you were close to a breakthrough. You've been backsliding a lot and losing your focus. Too many distractions, I think, from other quarters.” His gaze moved to the door. “But I'm sure we can discuss your justifiable antipathy to superheroes next week. Ja?”

“Ja,” I said, grimacing for reasons I didn't entire comprehend. “Heroes are a courageous and rational lot and all that.” I turned to the door. “I'll be right out, Gabrielle!”

I knew it was her.

I could feel her presence.

“Awesome!” Gabrielle said, cheerfully popping her head through the door. “Hi, Professor Thule.”

Gabrielle Anders was a beautiful Afro-Hispanic woman with beautiful brown eyes, olive-skin, and a smile which could burn away the dark in a man's heart. Today, she was wearing her hair in a ponytail and had a pair of upside-down horseshoe earrings. On her face were a pair of surprisingly thick glasses which, really, should have been smaller given today's fashions.

I loved her, though, and found every part of her sexy.

“Hello, Ms. Anders,” Professor Thule said, sounding not at all pleased to have her around.

Professor Thule had tried to get her into one of his therapy courses but she'd politely refused on multiple occasions as well as rejected his attempts to get her to private studies. Frankly, sometimes I wondered if she was really serious about Unusual Criminology.

Professor got up and walked to a nearby shelf before removing a black leather book off the shelf and handing it to me. “We'll discuss your situation in-depth once we're in private again. In the meantime, I suggest you read this book. It will provide, I suspect, fascinating insights into your situation.”

I read the title:
The Absence of Mercy
by Doctor Isaac Bedlam.

I tapped the title of the book. “This is the book by the Jewish supervillain who stalked and murdered a bunch of anti-Semites in the 1920s and 30s. The one Fritz Lang did a bunch of films on.”

Professor Thule smiled. “An interesting figure for discussing the situational nature of ethics.”

He stared into my eyes.

I stared back, then blinked, a little uncomfortable. “Uh, Professor, are you okay?”

Professor Thule frowned, confused, and looked over Gabrielle who was giving him a dirty look.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” the Professor patted me on the shoulder. “Go, play.”

“Okay,” I said, putting the book into my backpack then heading to the door to join Gabrielle.

Gabrielle shut the door behind me. She was wearing a white sweater over a golden dress. “I do not like that creep.”

Gabrielle looked at me in disbelief. “He's named
Professor Thule
.”

“Hey, he can't help his parents’ last name,” I said, shrugging. I then gave her a long kiss on the lips.

Gabrielle smiled, adjusting her glasses. “Are you ready to meet my father?”

“I'm not sure rescuing dolphins in Japan is a good family-bonding exercise,” I said, grimacing. “Still, what's the worst he could do?”

“Come in-between our relationship, disown me, and ruin a lifetime of loving father-daughter relationship?”

I gave her an annoyed look. “You are cruel.”

“Just be nice,” Gabrielle said, smiling.

“You still haven't introduced me to your mother,” I said, starting to walk to the elevators.

“That's because she's Polly Pratchett.”

“Ha-ha,” I said, chuckling. “Ultragod's girlfriend? Please. But if you don't want to talk about her, that's fine.”

“I'll introduce you after I reveal all my secrets,” Gabrielle said, adjusting her glasses. “You know, I'm not used to relationships lasting this long.”

“Neither am I,” I said.

“Yeah,” Gabrielle said, wrinkling her nose. “Some of us more than others. Did you
have
to sleep with Jessica and Wendy?” They were Gabrielle's best friends at college.

I grimaced. I'd had a lot of one-night or multiple one-night 'relationships' before I'd met someone who was really worth fighting for. “That was before I met you!”

“A likely excuse!” Gabrielle said, rolling her eyes then bursting out laughing. I'd actually met Gabrielle through Wendy, who was helping her at the school paper where Ms. Anders was journalist. “I'm in this for the long haul, though.”

“Me too.” I took her hand. I decided after this trip, I'd propose to her.

The memory faded away and I was once more in the void of unconsciousness. Cloak, as a disembodied voice, was there with me.

“
You were very blessed to have two kind, generous women to love you
,” Cloak said. “
Most men do not even get one such opportunity
.”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice echoing through the darkness. “It didn't work out between me and Gabrielle and I won't lie and say I haven't played the 'What If' game.”

Moses Anders had warmed to me, eventually, even if I didn't realize he was Ultragod until years later. When we got back, though, I'd been kidnapped by murderous serial-killer the Cackler. He'd deduced Gabrielle was Ultragoddess and decided to target the person she loved the most. Gabrielle had come within inches of killing him while rescuing me. Later that week, she'd confessed her true identity to me and that she couldn't risk putting me in danger. I'd tried to fight for our relationship but she'd rather have me alive and away from her than hold me in her arms as I bled to death.

Then she'd erased my memory of her identity and implanted a new memory of our breakup. I'd only found out the truth on the moon.

I would never get over that.

“
I sensed you wanted children
,” Cloak said. “
Why did you and Mandy never have them
?”

That brought back its own memories.

It was a year after my marriage to Mandy and things were going well in my life. I admit, we'd probably gotten married a little too soon given we'd only known each other a couple of months. We'd both been recovering from badly-ended relationships but we were in love and I was determined to change for her benefit. I had cast aside my dreams of being a supervillain and embraced my new life as Gary Karkofsky, bank teller.

Yeah, I was going crazy but I could live with it.

I had her.

It was early in the morning and we were gathered around the kitchen table. Our rescue dogs, Galadriel and Arwen, were gathered at our feet while I was making breakfast for my wife. She was wearing a shirt with Princess Leia on it and looking sleepless. She was still getting used to my frequent bouts of nightmares, one of the reasons why I was making her this. Also, I wanted to butter her up for the conversation.

“So, Mandy—” I started to say, bringing her a second plate of made-from-scratch waffles.

“Yes?” Mandy said, obviously suspecting I wanted to discuss something.

“Kids,” I said, laying the plates down.

Mandy looked up, blinking. She put down her fork. “Not hungry.”

I grimaced. “Probably should have discussed that before we got married.”

“Yeah,” Mandy said, giving a face equivalent to being punched in the gut.

“What are your thoughts?” I asked, plopping down into my chair across from her.