The 10th
Professor's Adventures: Episode 5
Part 1
Sometimes
traveling the Multiverse can indeed lead to boredom. Trying to keep
oneself busy without constantly jumping from universe to universe,
instead to give the mind a rest is a natural process. Rest the mind
to help it wander over the next adventure and adventures to come.
It's why the Professor found himself in his console room, reading an
old book, silent, wearing nearly made fake spectacles to try them
out, as he listened to classic rock and roll coming in from his
cassette player. He couldn't help but smile a bit as he read,
readjusting his glasses as he shifted in his chair. That was,
however, until he heard a loud groan and a frustrated Cynthia
stepping out of the corridor, shaking her head a bit trying to get it
to comb down, having redressed herself.
“How
long did you want to wait, again, Professor?” Cynthia asked, giving
up on her hair and just tying it into one long ponytail, letting it
curve up at the end.
The
Professor slightly sighed, pocketing the fake spectacles and placing
the book on the end table next to him. “I just wanted to make sure
you were alright before we went again. May I remind you, that you did
face a Vampire and saw death for the first time in a very long time
indeed, being out here in the Multiverse.”
“Professor...”
She looked at him, giving him a slight smile, before walking up to
the console, The Professor quickly joining her, beginning to work.
“I'm not a kid anymore. But thanks for the worry, I'm fine. It
just....You forget sometimes that in stories, and in other universes
Happily Ever After isn't a universal right.”
“Exactly.
Stories are told and retold and rewritten and changed, from each one
that hears it. We came from a universe in which My People and Her's
were locked in an endless war, That was and is their time war. Their
war to end all wars. Sometimes there are those who flee to hide.
Sometimes there are those who flee to wish to help those downtrodden.
Then, as we saw, there are people who flee to do their own bidding,
to make their own stake and claim.” The Professor slowly pulled
over the screen, eyeing it. “That is why the Unknowns are so
interesting to see and tell. Sure the main story is what everyone
comes for, but when one gets to meet that one shop owner whose store
was demolished by a superhero fight, or a nameless hostage by a
second-class villain, or any millions and millions of unknown faces
and unknown stories to tell, it fills in the gaps and holes of what
is truly important in Multiversal Travel.”
The
Professor worked on the console, as his mind began to wander.
“Cynthia, if only you were there sooner....To see the Twin Sunsets
on a Flat Desert plain, or the battle for freedom between
Interuniversal Foes, heroes and Villains......” He couldn't help
but smile a bit. “What I have learned over the years is that when
one gets to see these sights, it blinds them to the things that are
important, their own stories, and their own experiences.”
“Which
is why you take breaks out here in the void reading dime novels.”
“Or
working on things, whatever to keep hobbies to help.” He looked to
his companion. “I am a different man to the ginger haired hero. Age
sometimes does not bring wisdom, but experience. But you're right,
we've been in the void too long. Perhaps we shall go to another
universe. And I've got a clue or two. Well, Let's just throw it to
chance, shall we?” With a grin, the Professor pulled down a lever,
and the time rotor began to rise and fall.
The
rain poured, as it did every day here in the small little town. A
man, holding an umbrella sitting on a bench under an covering , could
hear the rain beginning to pour from his umbrella as he tried to get
some reading in. On the front cover of his newspaper, it was always
the same. Stories about booking decisions, small town gossip, and the
one big headline, almost plastered every time. “THE VILLAINNESS
STRIKES AGAIN!” in big bold letters. He couldn't bear to read
anymore, as he tossed his newspaper into the rain and sat there,
listening to the beating sounds. Behind him, however, a shadow would
begin to form. A Cloaked figure, moving closer and closer to the man
on the bench, him paying no heed.
His
carelessness would get the better of him, as he straightened up on
the bench, feeling a black glove on his throat. A soft snicker,
almost barely audible due to the pounding of the rain, echoed in his
ear.
“Taking
a walk, are we? You should know by now to be more careful.”
The
man tried to speak, but that only lead for him to be stretched back
further, spotting long black hair, ending in red points, and a mask
on her face with rivets and bolts. His eyes grew wide.
“Twice
now I told them this was MY city, and they pay me no heed. Nothing,
no one to test, you move along your simple lives like nothing ever
happened. Do you think I am as simple a problem, that'll just go away
if you pretend it isn't there?” Her laugh echoed in his ear. “Then
perhaps I make it more convincing for them to take me seriously.”
All
the man could utter was a whimper, as he could hear her laughing get
louder, and the pain in his neck as he began to feel it being
squeezed.
The
Professor slowly stuck his head out of the TARDIS doors, hearing the
rain pour down in buckets upon the pavement and brickwork around him.
“Ok....” He spoke softly. “Maybe What I was hoping for was a
vacation, not Washington State in Winter. But, we go with the
punches,. I guess.” He stepped out, rubbing his hands as he eyed
where they landed. For an alleyway, it was quite clean, no trash
bags, no dirty dumpsters, the walls and ground was clean, and even
the old trashcans had a slight shine to them. As he heard the TARDIS
doors close behind him, he spotted Cynthia, gripping onto an umbrella
and eyeing him with this look of subdued anger.
“You
know, if I had known I would have gotten two showers today I would
have worn different clothes...”
“Oh
don't be like that, Cynthia. At least we landed in a clean area, and
from what it looks like, it's a moderate sized city to boot!” The
Professor grinned a bit, as he stepped out to the edge of the alley.
However, just like last time, something felt off to him. People paced
and walked around, eyeing each other with scared or hate filled
glances, dodging each other every way they could so they wouldn't
touch each other. One man walked right in front of the Professor,
before throwing his newspaper into a garbage can and storming off,
almost getting into a fight with another man who just walked out of a
barber shop.
Cynthia
slowly joined him, catching another almost brawl, two women on the
other side of the street, swinging high heels at each other, both on
opposite arms of a man who clearly looks disturbed and afraid at his
predicament. “You sure this is the right place, Professor? A good
place for once?”
“Ok,
maybe I overexaggerated...” The Professor spoke, eyeing the
catfight on the other side of the street before heading off down the
sidewalk. “But at least we're in a nicer location, and I assure
you, this time, no Vampi-”
Then
came this loud boom. The force of it did not reach the two, or anyone
on the street around them, but the sound carried away sent the two
Universal travelers to the ground, as smoke began to rise from a
nearby building, forming a skull before dissolving away. Fire trucks,
Alarms, sirens began to wail in the distance as the Professor slowly
looked to his companion.
“Ok.”
He spoke. “Perhaps We're in the thick of it again.” Slowly rising
to his feet, he took her hand, and helped her off of the wet ground,
before running towards the scene. “Brave heart, Cynthia.”
For
how close it felt like the explosion was, as the two arrived on the
scene it was mayhem. It looked to be an old and abandoned townhouse,
the entire front blown out like some kind of cannon or a paper bag
with the bottom blown out with air. Bricks, wood, and other debris
scattered around the street and block in front of it, still
smoldering away from the blast. As the two tried to fight through the
quickly forming crowd, they were able to spot the back end of the
home, where all of the furniture was thrown out due to the explosion,
leaving a single spray-painted message on the back walls of the
showing rooms. “HOW LONG, HOW MUCH DAMAGE, BEFORE YOU TOY WITH ME?”
The
Professor almost shivered a bit, backing up a bit against a building
nearby to him, and ripping out his old leather bound tome, eyeing
through the pages, as Cynthia slightly covered her mouth in shock.
“Professor...” Her throat finally forced the word out.
“I
don't know, wait, hang on, surely....” He was panicked, his mind
running through ideas and details of this scene, as Police began to
arrive, clearing the crowd away. He sighed a bit, pocketing the
journal before taking Cynthia's hand. “We have to follow them,
Cynthia. We can't stay-”
“HOW
LONG, JERKS?!” A voice in the crowd screamed. “HOW MANY NEAR
CALLS BEFORE YOU TAKE HER SERIOUSLY?!”
The
two travelers watched as a small group of angry pedestrians walked up
to the scene, yelling in the faces of a couple of the cops, as one
pulls out a megaphone.
“There
is nothing to see here, folks, Just a prank mixed in with mistimed
Gas explosion.” The officer spoke calmly, standing on the bonnet of
one of his police cars, looking directly at the quickly forming
crowd. “Just a Prank, We have everything under control here, There
is no worry.”
The
Two travelers quickly hurry into a nearby alleyway as more and more
people begin to crowd at the scene. The Professor took a deep breath,
before taking off with Cynthia, the loud screaming and yelling of the
crowd echoing in their ears as they hurried away.
“The
hell is going on here, Professor....” Cynthia spoke, trying to keep
at pace. “Where did the TARDIS send us to?!”
“I'm
trying to figure that out, but there's nothing yet, there's no
telltale clues!”
“Are
you telling me that a building exploding is not a clue on where we
are?! This is different- Way different than a vampire's feeding
Frenzy!”
“I
know that!” He spoke, slowing down as they reached the sidewalk on
the other side of the alleyway. “We have to ask around, act like
locals, find out what is going on. Something is fishy in Denmark,
Cynthia....”
The
two looked to each other, before eyeing back at the crowd, watching
the smoke pool into the sky, mixing with the rain-filled clouds and
sending the ash falling right back to the ground. The Professor
cleared his throat as he eyed at the scene. “Something is going on
here, Cynthia. We need to find out what, and quickly.”
As
the two took off down the sidewalk, looking for anyplace they could
go to find out some information on where they were, in another alley,
a shadow began to form. A Robed figure in black, with spiked black
boots, torn up black jeans, a black t-shirt with a matching black and
silver overcoat....and that bolt and rivet mask. Underneath, a
quickly forming grin across the face. “Well now...” The figure
spoke. “Do I finally have my own detective to toy with, I wonder?”
The figure laughed, as she stared at the man in the green coat,
almost licking her lips under the mask. “I wonder who my new
detective is...Time to do some digging of my own.” She chuckled,
walking off deeper into the shadows.
As
the two travelers entered the dingy bar on the corner of another
block, they looked completely soaked. In the path of 4 diners and a
gas station in the city, places where people could meet up, and twice
they got chased away or got no response to their questions. Trying to
catch his breath, the Professor eyed up slightly. The bar was old,
must have been around a while, with the 70s wood paneling all around
them, the old bar and bar stools, and no tables, just a couple booths
where a few patrons have gathered, all gruff looking men, drinking at
the end of the day, for a variety of reasons. “.....Quite a rain
storm out there....” The Professor spoke, hoping to break the
silence. The two actually sighed in relief when they got a
acknowledged grunt from multiple patrons, as the two slowly walked to
the bar. The bartender was similarly scruffy, with bushy eyebrows, a
long mustache, eyes barely opened, a bald head that barely shone in
the low light, as they could hear the old television in the corner
rattling off a news report or two.
“What
can I get, two tourists?” He spoke, his voice raspy.
“Tourists?”
Cynthia asked, sitting on one of the stools. “How'd you guess?”
“You're
not frightened to hell of workin' day to day. Still got your smiles
about you, too.” The man never showed emotion on his face, but you
could tell he could at least fell them, as he turned around to face
the bottles. “Like I said, what can I get the visitors?”
“Well
I-”
“Two
Club Sodas and a newspaper, please.” The Professor spoke quickly,
eyeing around the bar. It's right, the mood did seem a little low,
even for what had transpired earlier, something more was hanging in
the air. The bartender huffed a bit, but gave a small chuckle,
heading to go work the order.
As
the Professor pulled out his research journal again, he couldn't help
but notice the old television, crackling on about the news of the
explosion. A couple moments go by, silent, as the patrons watch it,
and the riot afterwards, before one of the patrons grumbles and goes
to his drink.
“Proudest
force we got...” The older man spoke, sitting in the booth closest
to the door. “Scared of a dam teenager....”
“Oy.”
Another man spoke up, on the other side of the booth. “Don't
belittle it. You know the reason.”
“The
reason?” Cynthia turns to them, the second man goes quiet, walking
away to another booth, as the older gentleman coughs a bit before
sipping his drink again.
“The
reason why we act like a bunch of sissies and let a dam teenager go
around like a dam rebel.” The man spoke, laying back in the bench,
as Cynthia joins him, on the other bench. “I tell ya, ever since
those superfreaks......” He growls a bit with his old throat,
coughing, this time into a handkerchief he pulls from his pocket
before lowering it. “Follow the code, they say, they'll get bored,
pay them no heed......Like that even works anymore....”
“What's
happened here, Sir?” Cynthia asked, looking into the older man's
eyes, as he stares back, full of shame and rage.
“We
got one of them villains in our city, that's what happened. Like out
of one them comic books....” Cynthia could hear the Professor
straighten up on the stool, quickly turning page after page, like his
mind clicked on something.
“Surely
you have a hero to call on, then?” The Professor asked, and a few
of the patrons chuckled.
“This
ain't no comic book.” The old man spoke. “We get the bad end of
the deal. Just the ones willing to destroy everything, and we get
told to just....let it happen. Move on, don't give attention.....Like
that works anymore....” Cynthia noticed the Professor stop on a
page, head down, reading as the bartender sets the drinks and
newspaper down, the Professor pulling a 20 out of his pocket and
handing it to him.
“Keep
the change.” He spoke, as the Bartender walked off, taking the
paper and reading.
Cynthia
eyed back to the old man, grumbling as he took another sip of his
drink. “And so because there's no heroes....The best thing to do as
they said, was to just ignore them?”
“Ignore
and avoid.” The old man grumbled. “Worked in the
beginning....Then they started picking their own cities to stay in.
Vain, they are, and still no one does anything.....” He looked up
slightly. “Thanks for being interested in some old man's ramblings,
but I think yer drink's arrived.” She nodded, quickly stepping away
as the old man sighed, leaving his drink half finished before heading
out of the bar, holding his head as he grumbled.
“Useless...completely....” They hear the door creak open and slam
shut.
The
Professor eyed the front page, folding the paper in half and slowly
held it next to the open page of his journal. “A Universe where
villains came first....Supervillains....” He whispered to Cynthia
as she rejoined him at the bar.
“Supervillains?”
She whispered. “Like, Like actual powers and the whole 9 yards?”
He
nodded. “Usually what happens in stories is the Hero comes first,
probably coming to help their town or city, one kids or adult gets
jealous, angry, and forms around and becomes a villain. This universe
is different. Probably some event came to give out powers and as we
saw on the street, with how people acted towards one another
already?”
“....They
began using it for themselves...”
He
snapped his fingers, showing her the paper as she took a sip of her
Club Soda. “Two killed, 3 robberies, Vandalism, and now a house
explosion.” He whispered. “What happens when a narcissist isn't
fed attention? You should know, you were almost beaten to a pulp by
one in a back room.”
Cynthia
slowly took the paper, eyeing the front page, eyeing the headline
before eyeing around for the important bit. “Professor.” She
whispered. “There's no picture.”
“Course
there's not.” He whispered back. “Freedom of Speech allows people
to write the stories, but when you're under the rule of ignoring the
main problem, that means you can write it but no pictures for the
main story.”
“Then
we have a Problem, Professor, if we don't know what they look like.”
The
Professor stops, eyeing back at the paper, before eyeing back at his
companion. “Good point.” He eyed back at his journal. “Is that
why we were brought here, I wonder.....?”
Cynthia
smiled a bit. “Giving hope. Normal Tuesday for us, you know. To
help others.”
“Supervillains
are one nasty business to deal with....” He looked to her, but he
can't help but give a very faint smile. “But this time we can't
wait for the story to catch up to the times. Who knows how many
people could get hurt in the wait.”
“Then
what do you want me to do?”
“If
we're gonna do it this time, then we have to be careful. Play cards
slowly.” He eyes around the bar, leaning in to make the whispering
even quieter. “I need you to go to the library, see if you can get
anything similar to the newspaper. I'm going to go back to that
house, look for evidence. And Cynthia?” She looked right at him.
“This isn't a vampire we're dealing with. You won't be safe by
garlic or sunlight or fire or anything like that.” He sighs a bit.
“I can't believe I am going to say this....Mind over Muscle.”
She
nods, getting up and taking the newspaper with her, stopping at the
door and looking back to him, as he mouths. “Be Careful. Calm and
collected. But when it happens, and you need to, fight like you
haven't fought before.” He gave her a smile, as she headed out of
the bar, the Professor pocketing the journal, waiting a few moments
to give space, before he too walked out, leaving an extra 5 dollar
bill on the bar for a thank you for the atmosphere.
The
cloaked figure watched from the alleyway as they saw the two figures
walk in opposite directions. She could feel the grin begin to form on
her face as she could see the man in the green coat eye around before
turning back to one of her art pieces, while the woman was walking
towards another building. “Splitting up, are we?” She thought to
herself, watching as the woman eyed building after building,
searching for something, as she chuckled to herself. “Then they are
exploring options. Testing me.” She grinned wider. “Then I wonder
how, to play this game of theirs. Heroes and Villains.” With a
final chuckle, she cracked her knuckles, before silently slipping out
of the alleyway, following behind the woman in the leather jacket.
PART 2
As
the Professor explored through the wreckage of the house, he couldn't
help but feel off. Every step he took underneath the roof that barely
hung onto the damaged remaining walls, he felt like eyes were
watching him, as his hand ran along the words on the back wall.
“Spray paint...” He spoke, trying to be quiet as to not draw more
attention to himself. “Fast acting....But the wall feels hot, like
the words themselves were imprinted before the paint...” Taking
another few steps, his eyes locked onto a burst open pipe, buried
behind what looks to be the remains of a collection of cabinets. As
he got lower, he could see something....off about them. The whole
length of the pipe, was cold, cold enough to form icicles on it, but
where the pipe blew, the pipe must have gotten so hot that it melted
some of the plastic, for even at the distance he was looking at he
could see the outstretching of waves in it. “...Temperature
breath....” The Professor spoke to himself, trying to stay a safe
distance from it, even though the gas had long since been burnt out
of the pipe. “Close off the valve, freeze it, and then light the
explosion point....She really is starting to get annoyed now, if
they're doing this kind of damage so brazenly....”
“HEY!”
He heard a voice behind him. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE?!”
Without
another word, the Professor took off out of the wreck of the house,
as fast as he could, hearing a whistle go off behind him and then
footsteps on the wet ground behind him. Hurrying into an alley, he
half expected a way out, lose his pursuer, before almost abruptly he
found himself face to face with a wall blocking up the alleyway. Dead
end. He sighed, backing up against the wall, turning around to see a
young police officer, barely 21 or 22 years old, dressed up in an
older police uniform as a form of initiation perhaps, but without a
word the Professor raised his hands up as the young officer stood at
the other end.
“You
could have just walked up!” The Professor yelled. “I was doing
some investigation of my own, until you startled me!”
“QUIET!”
He heard the young officer say, shaking with his flashlight and
whistle in hand. “Who are you?”
“My
name is the Professor. Believe me, I am not some kind of insane
rambling idiot trying to trick you, I meant what I said.”
“Alright
then, “Professor”.” The Officer spoke, walking closer, now
barely at least a couple yards away. “What were you doing in that
house? Did you not notice the tape?”
“I
told you, I was doing my own investigation, since I heard the Police
are following the no contact rule when it comes to Supervillains and
their ways of trying to get notice.”
“It's
the safest option.” The Officer repeated, as if from memory out of
a book. “Investigating? Or causing trouble? You're lucky I don't
arrest you now, poking your nose into business that will only get you
harmed.”
“Get
me h- HARMED?!” The Professor yelled. “And you think closing off
and ignoring someone doing that kind of damage is the smart thing to
do?!”
“They
move on. They always do.”
“NOT
NOW!” The Professor yelled, taking his own step forward as the
Officer backs up. “Think about it. Honestly, think, do you honestly
think this being would just give up everything after THAT light
show?!” The Professor took slow breaths as he backed up the young
Officer, thankfully without a weapon, but could still be highly
dangerous, since this IS in a universe of superpowers after all.
“Tell me, do you even know what happens, at the end of a cycle like
the one your problem is making?”
“KEEP
YOUR HANDS UP! BACK UP!” The Officer yelled, but it could tell it
wasn't working, as he backed up into a dumpster. “Wh...What do you
mean, the end of a cycle?”
Cynthia,
however, was having a much easier time on her end. Having found the
library in a small townhouse like building, she found herself crammed
into a space barely able to sit let alone move around, as books were
stacked up high, on bookshelves around her, thrown around the floor,
even some were hung from the ceiling with clamps, just to get more
books into the building. As she tried to get any movement she could
deeper into this library, she could only spot what looked to be an
old lamp, covered up as to not harmed the books, and barely lit, just
enough to give light to read. “An abandoned library in a town
hall...” Cynthia whispered to herself. “To one so full you have
to go through boot camp just to find anything...Next time, he's going
to the library...” Each second passed on, as she tried to look at
book spines, but the books were far too closed together, creating
black shadows that hid the spines. She wondered if she could yelled
to the librarian, or if they would even hear her, buried under all
this. However, she did not notice or hear the front door being
opened, or even the bell, buried under all those books.
The
Librarian, a young woman with a tied up bun in her blonde hair, old
80s styled glasses, and shaky hands, slowly looked up from her desk
built right into the wall next to the door. With a quick smile, she
watches as a woman with black hair came into the building, all
covered up from the rain with a black cloak, so black she was unable
to see anything she was wearing. “Hello, Welcome to the small town
library.” The Librarian repeated. “What can I get you today, are
you looking for something specific?”
Cynthia
couldn't hear anything from her location, but as the seconds went by
she had this feeling. This bad feeling, something was horribly wrong.
She kept going deeper and deeper into the books, now not so much as
looking through them as looking for an exit out. The muffled sounds
of the conversation behind her started to get a little heated, she
could hear it getting louder and louder, before one of the voices
going silent, struggling. Her eyes widened, as she reached the other
side of the house, and nothing but wall greeted her. She didn't have
time. Taking a breath, she began punching through, using a couple
books to keep the dust and insulation away from her face, as she kept
punching, trying to tear her way through, as a muffled scream echoed
from behind her. The Librarian.
“Let
me explain to you the problem you have.” The Professor spoke,
dragging the young police officer with him as they walked back to the
front of the house. “Let me explain what happens in these sorts of
scenarios. Yes, you are correct, you don't feed their addiction to
fame, if one is a narcissist, you were right, but in this situation,
when one does not want to leave, you must confront them.”
“Sir,
I'm sorry, but I don't quite follow!” The young officer spoke. “You
just said that feeding it is bad, this is what we have been trying to
stop! Is people giving them attention!”
The
Professor stopped, eyeing back at him with a puzzled look. “Do you
twist words to fit your beliefs in your head or are your ears so full
you can't hear me. You have a problem that isn't going to go away
because people are looking away, pretending their city isn't in
mortal danger. They've taken root. They want action, and now that
they have taken root, you must join to meet them.” Slowly, he
pointed to the shell of the house behind them. “What happens when
one ignores a problem for too long is that they grow rot. A seedy
underbelly, people believe they don't need help and try to strive to
fix the problem themselves. So the process will continue of more
damage and more ordinary people getting involved, until someday those
people who try to help look at the people ignoring them for the same
reasons that they are ignoring the issue and the problem gets worse.”
He eyed the young officer. “Until one day you look in the mirror
and all you see is someone who could have done something, stopped it
here, proved you could have done something, and then you join in the
ranks. You want to stop this problem? You think of solutions, not
putting a piece of tape over a fault line and think you've solved the
issue.”
The
Officer watched in bated breath as the Professor took his coat,
fixing himself up before heading down the sidewalk. The anger was
clear on the Professor's face, as he eyed him down, before just
waving him away and turning to walk away.
“Those
are your options now.” The Professor spoke. “Either we find out
how, now, to stop this, or watch as the city is either destroyed or
becomes a cesspool of villainy and hatred.”
The
Officer stood there, shaking in his boots, as he watched the strange
man walk away from him. This fear, this overwhelming fear overtook
his mind as he began to picture in his head the future this man was
envisioning. “No..” The officer thought to himself, as he eyed
the man reach the end of the street.
“WAIT!”
The
Professor skid to a stop, turning back to see the young officer
eyeing him, slowly walking over all the while shaking like he was in
a fresh winter snowfall. “Wait...” The officer slowly walked up
to him, looking right at him. “What do we do, what can we do?.....I
want to help, we can't, We can't let this continue on...”
The
Professor eyed him, before finally getting a small smile. “I have
an idea. An inkling of one, I believe they have the power to heat up
or freeze objects, it would explain how the house exploded, they
froze the pipe then heated up a small section, giving it one point of
failure, and that force made it into what we saw. Now, water can do
amazing things, and we have plenty of it in a rainstorm, but there
needs to be a focus. Do you have metal on you, anything? And take
some of the stones and bricks here, we needs to find a lamppost.”
“A
lamppost?” The Officer raised his eyebrow. “Why do we need a
lamppost?”
“A
Focus point. How rain runs off of buildings at their edges, a
lamppost does the same.” The Professor grinned. “Now, The plan
is-” Then the city was rocked again.
Cynthia
crouched against a dumpster, holding her head to stop the ringing as
debris rained down all around her. This person, this thing was right
there and she didn't have a clue. All she could hear was muffled
sounds blocked up by all of the books around her, there was no way
she could have heard anything coherent. Hell, She was lucky to get
out of the building in time, having clawed her way out of drywall and
who knows what else to get to this spot. So, as she tried to focus on
getting her hearing back, she couldn't see the cloaked figure on the
other side, walking slowly up to the corner of the dumpster.
“My,
My....Now what do we have here?” The movement stirred Cynthia
enough to turn, as she faced the cloaked figure, her hood now down to
reveal her facial features and the bolt and rivet laid mask covering
her mouth. “Sidekicks are almost always the way to get the
attention, aren't they? Especially when one walks so far away from
their partner.”
“Who....Who....?”
All Cynthia could speak, all that she could get out of her throat as
she tried to stand, only to be knocked back down to the ground with a
well timed punch to the gut.
The
stranger could only help but grin as they stared at her. All this
girl was to them was a chance, something to peak her curiosity, as
they grabbed Cynthia's ponytail, and begun to drag her away. “Don't
worry, Sidekick.” The Stranger spoke. “Soon your hero will come
to the rescue. He has to after all, he's in FAR too deep.” And with
a laugh, they dragged her down the alleyway into darkness, leaving no
trace behind.
As
The Professor arrived on the scene, he could see the rubble that
remained. Like the house before it, the entire front had blown out,
leaving the frame, books scattering everywhere like bricks, some of
them actually helping support broken bits of the house to try and and
hold up the remaining structure, embedded into walls, smashed into
windows all down the block. The young officer quickly arrived with
him, eyeing the new scene, as they quickly got closer and closer to
the inferno, watching the fire, a new escalation, burn away what was
left of the interior.
“Dear
lord....” The young officer croaked, his throat dry with fear as
his eyes traced around the burning ruin of the building. “Like a
furnace, or a portal, that fire's burning so hot....” His eyes
slowly turned to the Professor, who was looking over, at one of the
nearby walls. “Professor? Professor, what's wrong?”
The
Professor took step after step, slowly, letting them echo into the
void as he walked over to the wall next to the burning rubble.
Sprawled across it, in green pain, was a message. But unlike the one
inside the home, this one seemed to have an intended target. “YOUR
SIDEKICK IS MINE, FACE ME, LIKE A HERO WOULD.” Slowly, his hands
balled into fists, so tight he could hear his knuckles pop one by
one. His eyes narrowed, as he heard the officer slowly walk up next
to him.
“Oh
my....” Was all he could hear him say.
“Where
would they take her?”
“Hmm?”
The Officer asked, looking to the green clad man. “What?”
“You
heard me.”
“Well,
I, How would I, I mean-”
The
Professor slowly looked to him, giving him this cold look. “Think,
sir. And quickly. Where would they take my companion? Surely you all
had some idea of where this villain would have a hideout?”
“Well,
We have had a few ideas, but you can't be serious, you could be
endangering yourself!-”
“WHERE.”
The Professor's eyes burn into him, rage beginning to settle into
them as he eyed the young officer. “Where, that's all I'm asking.
Let me worry about myself.”
The
officer looked at the man before him, before giving a small sigh.
“There have been unrelated reports of warehouse disappearances,
around one in particular...”
“And
you didn't trust them because of the given rule, of pretending they
don't exist.”
“How
could we have known?” The Professor gives him another look, before
taking off on his own, leaving the young officer there. “How could
we have known?!”
Cynthia
tugged at her rope restraints as she started to regain consciousness.
A slight tinge of anger set over her as she kept pulling and tugging
at the rope, hearing the rain impact above her and around her.
“Finally...” She thought to herself. “At least I'm not held
captive in the rain....” She sighed a bit. Through her travels with
the Professor, she had turned slightly into a damsel in distress, not
of his own fault or hers, it just seemed to keep happening that way,
her ending up on the inside and needing a way to escape. First, after
returning to traveling with him, she goes locked up in a Vampire's
dungeon for lunch, and now tied up who knows where by a lunatic. So,
as she tugged at the ropes again, she tried to get a good look at her
surroundings.
Wherever
she was, it was dark. The rain in the now evening sky was hiding most
of the natural light, and there was none within this place that she
could see. In fact, all she could see was a hole in the ceiling,
where what looked like old metal roof tiles were peeled back, like
something was ripped out of this.
“Did
you ever get so angry, You thought your teeth would crack from the
clenching?”
The
voice in the darkness shook Cynthia for a moment. Her new captor has
arrived, it would seem. “I know that type of rage. Only a couple
times in my life, though.”
“Then
you know what it is like.” Cynthia noticed as what looked like mist
began to float in the air, like one would do when it is cold outside.
“You know, when you are bullied, harassed, forced into boxes again
and again until there is nothing left of you but whatever was crafted
for you. When the stars fell, I finally got my chance to be me. To be
myself, and to live again. That was until I knew the price for my
life returned to me.”
“They
didn't know....” Cynthia said, hoping to bluff her way to at least
get another glimpse of her kidnapper. “We heard from a couple
people, they just want to be safe, people attacking others, the cycle
just spinning-”
“IGNORED
ME!” The voice screamed. “Ignored me! Everything I have done, I
showed them, I tried, break the trends, and I get thrown aside and
turned into nothing more than a common criminal. Even now, I was
being put in with so many others....Well then, I thought, if that is
what you wanted, Fine. I'll show you what a Super villain can do.”
Cynthia
watched as cold breath, breath so cold that it was forming icicles in
the air just from the vapor in the air, pass close by to her.
“All
we need to do now is wait.” Her laughter echoed the bound fighter.
“All we need to do is wait for your friend. Then I will show them.
Show them all.” To punctuate her words, a quick rush of fire, like
that out of a starting firework, came close to her, illuminate barely
anything, but gave Cynthia a clear look of this woman's crazed eyes,
staring back in glee.
As
the Professor stepped up to the old metal encased warehouse, for a
moment he considered dropping it. Dropping his mind and running on
pure instinct, fighting and swinging, just like the old days, for
threatening one of his friends. Standing there at the door, it would
seem easy to do so, especially given his temper. The longer he stood
there, however, the more he realized how much that would betray
himself. He promised himself, he would be different. Fight yes, but
also think. Prove that he can be more than what he was given from the
deck. So, he began to eye around his surroundings. The warehouse was
close to the docks, which looked almost abandoned. No boats, so much
trash gathered on the boardwalks, and the rain ruined tarps and paper
gave everything an almost spooky vibe that even he had to admit was
giving him the creeps. So, as his eyes scanned his surroundings, they
finally stopped right onto this older street lamp, about a couple
yards away, and his mind began to click. He looked back to the metal
building, then to the street lamp, and quickly hurried over to it.
“Perhaps....”
He spoke to himself, eyeing up at the bulb in the lamp, smashed up
and broken from the years of use. Quickly, he began searching his
surroundings, taking off of the ground an old soda can and crushing
it as tight as he can, using some of the waterlogged paper and
pushing it onto the edges the can had formed. Then, he got down to
the ground, quickly trying to open the lamp's base. “Maybe We don't
need to trick her out somewhere, maybe we have everything we need
right here....”
Taking
off of the panel, he eyed at the old electronics inside, hearing the
buzzing as he let the panel clatter onto the old dock wood. He slowly
grinned a bit. “Best not to cut power than try to fix the problem.”
He eyed back to the light, throwing the mashed up can into the air,
once, twice, then right into the bulb. The wires and glass within the
bulb latched onto the can, sending sparks out and raining to the
ground for a moment. “It's still live...” The Professor said with
a grin, eyeing back at the wiring, then to the metal building.
The
final part needed something easy. A quick move, in order to get the
electricity to the metal exterior, The Professor pondered, as he eyed
around at his surroundings. Eventually, he grabbed one of the useless
tarps, rain-logged, and laid it in the middle between the lightpost
and the building, and then rolled two pieces of small pipe, the Tarp
was protecting, into position. One, he shoved into the wiring, using
his coat pockets to protect his hands, placing the other end on the
tarp, in one of the quickly forming puddles. The other, he rolled
into position next to the door, ready for the door to swing, to
complete the circuit. He eyed at his handiwork, his machine, with a
smile on his face, scratching his chin as he worked out how things
should go in his head, before turning his attention back to the door.
“........Come into my Parlor, Little Fly......” The Professor
whispered to himself. “Yeah, Well.....I have a Bug Zapper ready for
you, Spider.....” And with that, as gently as he can, as to not
complete the circuit he just made, he slipped his way into the
warehouse.
The
Warehouse was full. Completely full, on this side. Tall Crates
surrounded him, like a Wooden Plank jungle, a couple of the crates
having the musk and smell of rot rising from them. “Seems they've
been here a long time....” The Professor whispered to himself,
moving past them slowly, Stifling gasps and noises when he spotted
cobwebs, keeping calm and collected the best he could as he tried to
move. The farther in however, the darker it got, Metal sheets having
been placed on the inner walls to try and absorb more and more of the
sunlight, to hide oneself. When it finally became hard to see barely
a foot or two in front of his face, he sighed, taking a good look
around before he did something stupid. “Cynthia?” He whispered
out. “Cynthia, are you there?” His voice echoed in the void
around him, moving slower and slower, as he raised his hand up to
feel around the darker and darker area.
At
first he could feel the temperature drop and rise on a dime, like he
was nearing a furnace or a malfunctioning air conditioner, but the
further into the void he walked, the more he could see particles,
frozen drops of water on some crates, on others, deep scorch marks.
It is from the embers and the reflection of the light that he could
see them at all, this far into the warehouse. “....This is where
you tested them, isn't it?” He spoke, in a more firm tone. “Where
you ran to, scared and afraid of what was happening. Hell, anyone
would. That doesn't mean you use them the way you have.”
“Isolation.
Insults. Tricks, Pranks, every day, no one giving you the time of day
because all they see you as is a freak.” The voice took the
Professor a bit off guard, as he eyed in the darkness for the source.
“I
was morphed into a Monster. I was told I was mad or crazy for my
beliefs on what was out there, Don't try and guilt trip me.”
“Then
you know the Anger. The Resentment. The Rage one gets where day in
and day out you are seen as nothing. Seen as lesser than.” The
voice started getting closer and closer to him.
“Yet
You don't go around hurting others. You prove them wrong-”
“No
one listened!” Her voice screamed. “NO ONE LISTENED TO ME! Fine.
I'll show them. Show them what they created. What they CAUSED!” The
Professor is sent flying into a couple empty crates, crashing through
the wood. He groaned a bit from the pain, as he eyed around, trying
to find his attacker.
“Stop
this!” The Professor cried out. “Stop this nonsense, You know
this is wrong!”
“Wrong?”
He heard the voice above him, on the top of one of the crates. “Wrong
was passed a very long time ago.” He rolled out of the way, as a
burst of fire rushed through from a hole in the top. “Wrong was
passed when I looked in a puddle and I saw what had happened to me.”
He quickly rolled the other way, as a blast of cold wind came through
another, freezing the already charred straw packing material. “Wrong
was passed when I asked for help and no one came. Called me a
Villain, connected me with those lunatics......” The Professor
quickly crawled into the other crate he had busted in, just as she
crashed her way inside. The embers on her face gave the Professor a
good look. Long ginger hair, down to her shoulders. Those eyes, that
stared like daggers. No longer wearing her riveted mask, which
revealed her power. Her top lip was charred, slightly, like the lip
of a volcano's top, with fire and embers crackling in it. Her bottom
lip was ice cold, blue, tiny icicles hung from it like pointed teeth
or fangs, as she stared at the man before her. “She called you
Professor, your little sidekick. I'm Renegade. And I'm what this city
turned me into.” With those words, she goes for a swing, ready for
a fight.
Cynthia
could see flame rush into the air from where she was hidden, the
crashing into crates, and the screaming from both that mad woman and
the Professor. She could hear the fight nearby, which only made her
more and more angry, as she tugged at the ropes binding her. Here she
is, useless, tied up as her friend is being attacked by some woman
and she's can't do anything! She screamed out in rage, lashing out
with her bound feet, hearing one of the crates crack open close to
her, and her feeling sharp wood close to her leg as she drove her
feet.....Sharp. Sharp wood. With all of her strength and anger
beating through her heart, she pushed and crawled her away to the
crate, putting her back to it, and began jamming it again and again
into the rope restraints around her wrists. Again and Again she
pulled and ripped at them, hearing the spike splinter but she didn't
care. It was like she was fully focused on one mission, to get
herself free. She could hear the rope, the fibers be ripped apart as
she pulled at them, feeling blood trickle down her fingers from
pricking her palm on the sharp wooden spike. Eventually, she could
feel the ropes just slip away from her wrists, as she rubbed them to
try and stop the rope burn. She took a deep breath, before standing,
and heading for the cries of her friend.
The
Professor dove behind another crate, as he heard the wood crackle and
smash. Maybe this wasn't as simple as he thought, as he thought back
to his trap outside. Even if he was to electrify the outside shell,
who knows how long it would hold her if she was alert. The problem
got worse however as he felt the rush of air, wood and splinters
flying close to him, as the side of the crate he was hiding behind
just get turned to dust.
“Where
are you, hero?!” He could hear the mad woman scream. “Thought
this would be easy, didn't you?! Try yourself against a girl like
me?!” He could hear her laugh, almost giggle in delight from the
situation.
He
took in a couple deep breaths, before moving to another crate, and
then another. He had to keep distance, as he eyed back, even in the
dark, listening for anything that could give her location. All he
could hear though was the crackling of embers on old, rotten wood.
“Where is she....” He thought to himself. “Her lips are
cracked, you could...you should be able to see the fire....”
That
was, before he was sent to the floor by a rush of air. He could hear
his hiding spot be torn to shreds, almost like kindling wood, as he
quickly got onto his back, to see the girl looking back at him with a
grin upon her face, walking up to him slowly, like a predator and a
trapped prey. No words, just pure emotion. The Professor tried to
hurry behind another crate, but his way was blocked by the coldest of
breezes, icicles lodging into the crate he was facing, forcing him
further back as she got closer and closer. “Would you really hurt,
even kill someone over the pain still in your heart?!” He spoke,
forcing the words from his throat. She didn't speak. In fact it was
like she was running on autopilot now, the smirk on her face getting
wider as she got closer. He shut his eyes, waiting for the eventual
strike, or rush of air, when he heard a crack. An audible crack. Like
the sound of flesh, hard, against bone.
His
eyes opened quick, to see Cynthia, her eyes flared up with rage,
knocking away Renegade with one clear and hard punch right to the
cheek. Quickly, he could see the bruising form as her eyes glared at
the fighter. “Shoddy knots.” Cynthia spoke, cracking her
knuckles. “You want a fight, then fine by me.” She ran for her,
ducking from icicles flying her way from the frost breath, as she
drilled another punch right to the super villain's gut. “Let me
tell you about the man you tried to kill. I have seen him grow. He
used to never give the chance I heard him give to you. He's kinder.
You could have just walked away, and nothing would have been the
wiser.” Cynthia's eyes narrowed, slugging her across the face into
her other cheek. “You think just because you got thrown away, that
gives you the right to make everyone else miserable? Loom over them
like some kind of dictator? “Notice Me or Else”, huh? Then try
this.” With one hard uppercut to the chin, the super villain
crashed into a nearby crate, and slumped to the floor without another
chance to attack. Cynthia cracked her knuckles again. “Glass Jaw.
Typical.”
The
Professor's eyes were like beachballs, looking at his companion as
she walked back over to him, holding out her hand. “Did she hurt
you too bad?” She asked. He shook his head slowly, taking it and
slowly rising to his feet.
“I
forgot how strong you got when you got angry....” He said, looking
at her beaten opponent.
“Oh
please, you make me sound like the Hulk.” She chuckled. “You were
in danger, I came to help. I'm liking this face anyway, I didn't want
to see it go too soon.”