Watching Castelia city, like every other day.
Any other day, perched on top of a building, waiting for something, anything. The hero known as Viscogon sat, utterly bored.
“We should really get a radio”
‘Our Ears do not Need a Radio. It is Main Street, this is where Everything Happens’
Same response, every time, same discussion every time.
And then, a voice, a man's voice, screaming those words they had been waiting for.
They were close, very close. Gazing down the alleyway down below, Viscogon saw them. A man, on the ground, and two figures surrounding them. Perfect.
He jumped off the side of the building, slime gushing from his arms and attaching to the walls of both alleyways. Sliding down and down at great speeds until finally he met the ground, finding himself between the man and the two figures. Standing tall and mighty he shoved the two forward, covering them in slime that stuck to the wall.
“Heh, you two made that too easy” He gloated, walking forward.
They were mannequins, fully dressed and holding knives, but posed no threat.
Turning to face the man on the ground.
“Buddy, those things are-”
Standing before him, the man he had been hunting for months, the man who had utterly embarrassed him two years prior, the man who had just effortlessly chopped his arm off. The man known as Pathogen.
The man snatched the arm, still flung through the air, and backhanded Viscogon. The hero was flung down the alleyways, his breath was knocked out of him, and he was dazed.
Viscogon went to stand, wanting to be ready for the brawl about to commence.
But gazing up, he only watched as the villain threw on a coat and hat, and walked out of the alleyway. Not even trying to run, not even trying to finish the job.
Tendrils sprouted from his cleaved stump of an arm and wrapped and weaved around each other. Clumping together and filling back out. He stormed forward, running out of the alleyway to try and catch up to Pathogen. Growling and seething with rage. They’ve been wanting this fight for months and now the bastard is just trying to walk away.
The crowd around Castellia was dispersing, stepping away from the angry superhero, his eyes darting over people trying to find the bastard that got away.
He could feel something piercing his arm, but not the one attached to his body, it still felt close
Standing over the crowd he could see the silver of that villain's helmet, just barely in view underneath that stupid hat he wore on his head.
That disguise might have worked if he got any further, but people were now getting out of the hero's way as he ran forward, one arm surging still as claws sprouted from the fingertips.
He barreled into the villain, sending him flying and watching them drop their gun across the sidewalk. Purple slime splattered on his front as he fell face down on the sidewalk.
“Really? A gun? Thought you were supposed to be strong.” Viscogon pressed a foot to Pathogens back, pushing him back into the splattered slime.
“I don’t have time for you!” yelled Pathogen, pushing down on the ground and sending Viscogon falling onto his back. The hero felt a strong grip grab his tail and suddenly the world spun as he was spun and flung into the air, he felt dizzy, and moments later he would splatter against the ground. Having been thrown a block away.
His body would pull itself back together and he’d jump to his feet to pursue the villain, who went back to pick that gun up off the floor. Then they’d feel it.
It wasn’t a gun, they could feel parts of themselves vaguely compacted into that thing.
He was running now, trying to catch up, Pathogen was running too now.
Ducking into an alleyway, Viscogon would barrel after them, claws readying and turning the corner only to be met with Pathogen's hand, shooting straight and piercing the hero's abdomen.
“You are weak.” He’d mutter, raising a fist and decking Viscogon in the face.
He buckled backwards, the world was spinning, his head was ringing. Another hit, to the back of his head. Falling to his knees and hands, he felt sick. His guts were pulling themselves back together but that pain felt so much more visceral.
It filled the duo with even more rage.
They were going to rip that man's throat out.
Looking around, how much time had passed, they could smell him now, they saw him.
‘Post Office, two Blocks down.’
Viscogon looked around, looked down. A manhole on the ground. Pressing a hand it stuck to the metal and they were able to pull it from the ground and spin it forward.
Flinging the cover through the air, hearing the metal sing as it flew and met with Pathogen, grazing his shoulder and shattered glass of the vial they held.
Crimson mist filled the air, slime sprayed the surrounding area, and a cry rang out. The duo had finally got a lick in. They barreled onto all fours and rushed forward. That man rested a hand on a car, parked in front of the office. That must have really hurt.
Distance closing they ran and ran, they could already taste their prize, watching that man tense up, knowing Viscogon was gonna win.
That pride was crushed as that man swung his arm around, the screeching of tires against asphalt heard as the car spun around and crushed Viscogon between a wall and the tons of steel.
Blaring horns and sirens echoed into the air.
“GhhhaGHHHHH!” Viscogon covered their ears, pushing the car off of them and stumbling.
‘Stop It STopp ITTSSSTOP it!!’
Looking at the flipped over vehicle, they ripped and tore at the car's mechanical parts, pulling them and severing them and spilling them on the ground until finally the car rang silent.
They looked around, they could see the trail from Pathogen, they could still catch up, darting further down the street of Castellia, the pier was there. Saltwater was in the air and muddied their senses.
‘Where would you Go to Hide.’
The sewers, but there was still construction from the damages last year.
Narrow Street, of course.
Taking off, scooting past frightened and surprised people of the city.
They ran and went to meet their adversary.
Only meeting an Alleyway, devoid of the troublemaker they were really after.
Sirens rang out, he had to go. Scowling and running off to the ocean to hide.
The villain got away, nearly empty handed but alive.
The hero, failed, having been unable to save the day
And somewhere, just out of view, a fool who was hiding, rested a hand on their car window.
