Menace #8: The Ballad of the Menace
“It was a field trip.” Nate explained. “The mandatory one that all state middle-schools have to do, the one to the Chambers.” He was sitting in a rather uncomfortable chair in the middle of the Forge’s living room, in the midst of another party that he wished he were not at. Sitting on the floor in front of him was Courtney, and to his right Eloise; his two guests to the party who both happened to lack the social graces (or desire) to leave his side during the party. They both nodded as he referenced the Chambers, as they too had attended a similar field trip their eighth grade year of middle school. In leu of public deterrents to super-villainy (such as posters and television commercials), the government of New Jersey opted to have all middle schools require a mandatory trip to the Chambers, a prison designed to hold the worst super-villains in history. “I was leading the line down the spiraling steps into the entrance of the cave, behind the teacher of course. It was an average day, I’d say, but really fucking hot. All I could think about was this girl, Marie.
“You see, Marie and I were planning to become super heroes together. I had discovered my powers the previous year when I accidentally fell off of the roof of my house.” He paused so that Courtney could snicker before he continued. “And she had known she’d had powers since, like, second grade. She had a hyper-sensitive sense of smell, which, thinking back on it, really isn’t as cool as it seemed back then, but, hey, we were kids. She had already picked out her hero name, the Bloodhound, and I told her I wouldn’t have minded being her sidekick as we paved names for ourselves in the hero world. I don’t think she liked me like I liked her but who knows? In any event, all I could think about was her as I walked into the prison; she was following closely behind me. I remember her breath feeling warm on my neck as the air conditioning of the lobby of the Chamber attacked me. I also remember reaching into my pocket for a mint to slide into my mouth so that I wouldn’t bother her hyper-sensitive nose. I was kind of a tool back then.”
“Back then?” Courtney asked pointedly, but Nate, choosing not to hear her, continued his story.
“So, the man running the seminar, I don’t know if he was a guard or the warden — it doesn’t matter — he started to explain to us the necessity for the prison and the reason for the intricacies of the design. He began with a stupid little joke; he said something like, ‘Well, the first line of defense we have here is the front door, which we usually remember to lock.’ We, being stupid little eighth graders, all laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. He gave us a tour of the first level, which had cells for what were called ‘Class C’ villains. Anything lower than C didn’t merit being taken to the Chambers. Most C class villains, you see, are generally people who developed equipment to give them powers, or were given powers by the Endarian charms that they wore. Since they no longer had access to those objects, they were hardly more dangerous than common criminals. They scowled at us as we walked by, but the guy leading the seminar didn’t miss a beat. Just kept walking, opening the door to the next level and leading us down.
“I was still at the front of the line, mind you, and, although I really wanted to be a hero, I was almost shaking in my boots. ‘Class B’ villains are the ones that you see on television. Like when Cosmos leveled Colonial Trenton, or when the Electron destroyed the Empire State Building. The next level was at least one hundred feet below the first one, and the steps became narrower and more slippery, as some natural water somehow remained, dripping from the top of the cave. The stairway eventually opened into a wide open, structured area with four large cells. We were explained to that each cell was catered to the needs of those inside. For example, the Electron had close to a fifty foot radius that he could teleport in any direction, so his cell was the largest of the four, so that he might be confined. You all know this, though.” Nate said, realizing that his active audience had gone from two people to eight, most of whom he did not recognized. “Then, there was the class ‘A’ villain. The one you did not hear about on television or the news. The staircase was not as long this time, only twenty or so steps. We all walked in and formed a circle around the enclosure of the most dangerous super villain in the world. The enclosure was small, only about ten feet horizontally and the same vertically. The seminar spokesperson continued talking about the horrors of being a villain in prison as the man inside the enclosure stood up. He was very scruffy looking, his beard branching down to his collar, his hair at his shoulders. His eyes still had that intensity though. You know, the kind that the worst villains have? He lifted his lanky arm and began writing, with his finger, a message on the wall of the plastic. He did this quickly, then collapsed back onto his bed, in a fit of tears or laughter, I was never quite sure. No one could read his message, so I entered into the first stage of my powers, and could just make out the faintest marks that the man’s finger had left on the plastic: You left the front door open.” Nate paused to take a sip from his water.
“I read the message aloud to him, the man running the seminar. I did not think that it was a particularly large deal, but the man told all of the super-powered in the class to follow him, and so Marie and I followed him up the stairs to the second floor. At first, I thought nothing was wrong; nothing seemed askew. It was silent then. All the heroes here, I’m sure, know about the silence. That silence there is before everything goes to absolute shit.
“From what looked like a bolt of lightning, a man appeared in front of us. He was tall, I remember, but probably shorter than me now. I recognized him from television; he had straight blonde hair that fell to his eyes, which were a bright shade of blue. It was the Electron. ‘Just so you know,’ he started to speak very casually, ‘I could have done that at any time.’ His powers let him teleport, but only along the pathways of the orbitals of electrons. What that means — I think — is that the first time he could teleport a short distance in a spherical area around himself. The more times he teleported, the larger the distance he could transmute himself. I’ve heard this works only up until the eight time he did it, at which point he would have to teleport back to his starting position. It’s all really complex, and I’m not sure that even I understand it, I’ve never spoken with him about it.
“Marie, then, for some reason beyond my comprehension, took the liberty of charging at the released convict. She was howling like a dog as she charged, winding up a punch, when the Electron shoved out his hand to grab her neck. She looked confused. Frightened. The Electron wasted no time in throwing her against the wall. I heard her head smack against it, and it looked like she was unconscious. I stood there, watching. What can I do? I asked myself. What is there for me to do? The Electron decided not to give me the luxury of time so that I might answer that question. He was in front of me then, in that instant. I think I shouted some profanity at him, as I jumped back in fear. His hand reached out and grabbed the edge of my collar, pulling me closer to him. ‘Tell me, child, why do you want to be a hero?’ He asked me. I was breathing heavily, I couldn’t swallow. I saw the look in his eyes and I couldn’t speak. I was helpless. His hand inched its way towards my throat. It felt like an eternity, but it probably only took a second or two. It was right there, below me. I didn’t know why he wanted to kill me, what could possibly have led him to that decision. His hand sealed around my neck and I felt the pressure rise to the point where I could not breathe. That was when I entered into the second stage of my powers.
“I used to hate going into the second stage. It would leave me drained and, basically, asleep. But when I had to choose between asleep and dead, I would bet I guessed correctly. I grabbed his wrist with my hand and bent it backwards; it snapped like a twig. He screamed in pain as he tried to teleport away, but I had a grip on him and so I was jumped with him. It was an odd feeling, teleporting. There was no stall time, I was just suddenly somewhere else. We were now standing in front of the Electron’s cell. I hollered back to the seminar-man, shouted that he needed to go upstairs, to see who else was out. I then turned to the Electron himself and asked why he decided to attempt a breakout at this very moment.
“‘I heard the ruckus going on upstairs. Someone left the door open. Someone got in. All it takes is one super-villain to knock out the guards and steal the keys. The entire C block is most likely already free. And that means I’m out as well.’ Suddenly, he and I were somewhere else, with someone else. From what I could tell, I was now inside the cell of Photon, a villain that could, as I remember, change the density of photons and control them. He would basically throw light at people. It took him a second to understand what was going on. He looked at me, then at the Electron, as though wondering which of us he wanted to attack more. I let go of the Electron and leapt back, placing my back firmly against the wall. I used to think that was the safest place to be. Photon raised his hand towards me and, almost faster than I could see, I felt something smash into my stomach, causing me to fall to my knees. It was the first time I had really felt pain. I can’t say I cared for it. I looked up to see another shot from Photon and moved as quickly as I could; the light scraped across my face as it passed, leaving a nasty open wound. Without a second to rest, the Electron was next to me, and he planted his foot into my ribcage, sending me onto my side. There were tears in my eyes now I was sure, probably some on the ground and my face too.
“I felt a third crack inside me. You see, this was back before I realized I had more than two stages in my arsenal. I moved a hand to touch the wound on my cheek, but I found that it had stopped bleeding. I managed to my feet. The room, which was colored entirely white from top to bottom, was overwhelming my senses; it felt like the colors were screaming at me. The outlines of the two men were all I could make out. It was more than enough. The Electron was suddenly in front of me, and threw his fist into my face. I used the moment of contact to bear-hug the man, and, using him as a human shield, began to charge towards Photon. Photon kept firing, I could hear the shots hitting the Electron as I charged forward, I could hear his screams, I liked hearing his screams. I slammed into Photon and the three of us tumbled to the ground. I stood first. The Electron lay unconscious on the ground, and I could see Photon scrambling to stand. I knocked him onto his back. He was lying in the shape of a T, breathing heavily. I lifted my foot and stomped it into his right arm, hearing it shatter as I did, hoping I had separated it from his body. He fainted from the pain, and I trudged back to the door of the cell, forcing it open with my fist. I collapsed in the center of the jail.” Nate paused, looking at the sea of attentive faces staring at him. He finished his water, and put it down.
“I was offered a hero license when I woke up in the hospital a few days later. I asked if Marie was getting one as well. They told me she wasn’t.” Nate shook his head. “She hasn’t talked to me since then, I have no idea what she does now.” He laughed an uncomfortable laugh and turned to Eloise, who, he was surprised to see, was staring at him anxiously. She opened her mouth to say something, then abruptly shut it. She opened her mouth again.
“I do.”