The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2) (13 page)

“The hour is up, Merciless,” one of the angel's spoke to me, his voice sounding like a thunderclap put through a tuba.

“So soon?” I asked, looking up to him with a stricken look on my face.

The angel lowered his head, looking apologetic “I'm afraid so.”

Keith had been telling me about how he'd finished the ninth
Lord of the Rings
novel. J.R.R Tolkien had apparently been writing up a storm in Heaven. He'd even done a collaboration with T.S. White. Damn, if I didn't want a collection of the whole set.

Keith reached over and took me by the hand. “We'll meet again.”

“I'm not so sure about that.” I slowly withdrew my hand. “I doubt we're destined for the same real estate.”

“Heaven is a lot more forgiving than you'd think.” Keith’s eyes were filled with a peacefulness I couldn't put into words. “You should consider giving the good guys a shot. They're not a bad bunch.”

I snorted, reluctantly standing up. “I would never belong to any club that would have me as a member.”

Truth be told, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my life now. I had enjoyed being a supervillain but Keith's approval meant everything to me. The only person whose opinion meant more was my wife's. I wasn't sure if I could handle both Mandy and he both disliking my career choice.

“If I can't persuade you, I'll see if I can get the big guys to send some aid your way. Time isn't the same in the Great Beyond as it is elsewhere. You're in for some serious shit.” Keith smirked, reaching over to put his hand on my shoulder.

I looked over at the angels standing watch. “Should you be cursing in front of these guys?”

“Fuck no, he shouldn't,” one of the angels replied, not changing his expression.

It was nice to know heaven's soldiers had a sense of humor. I shouldn't have been surprised. I'd always suspected God was a comedian. That was the only way to explain my life. Well, that or the Devil had decided to make me his personal chew toy.

“
Those two aren't mutually exclusive
.” Cloak had been quiet during my meeting with Keith—a fact I appreciated.

I rolled my eyes and stood up to give my brother one last hug. Stretching out my arms, I said, “Whatever happens, Keith, I want you to know I'll always remember you.”

“Right back at you,” Keith said, getting up and hugging me back.

The two of us broke apart and I turned around to leave. I had to focus on not looking back.  I didn't want to watch my brother disappear from my life again, this time possibly forever. In a real way, I was losing him all over again.

“
Are you alright
?”

“Yeah,” I said, gritting my teeth at the memory. “I remember both his death and Shoot-Em-Up’s every time I close my eyes. There was more blood than I expected. Shooting someone isn't like it is in the movies. The movies don't show how disgusting the aftermath is.”

There was no dignity in death, no matter how people romanticized it.

“
No, they don't
,” Cloak answered, sounding disgusted. “
I'm sorry. What you endured is trauma no child should have to. It explains a lot about how you came to be what you are today
.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens.” I was uncomfortable with this topic. “I'm not the first kid to lose a brother to violence. I won't be the last either.”

I turned the doorknob and the door opened to reveal a vast moon-lit cemetery. The faux hell from before had been replaced with a peaceful, albeit creepy, graveyard I recognized as Hightower Heights. It was Falconcrest City's largest place of internment and where we'd buried my grandfather.

Death was standing over one particular headstone, having changed out of her earlier stage attire into a robe more befitting the Grim Reaper. Even so, she subverted the look by having the robe surprisingly tight in certain places. Was it wrong to check out the Grim Reaper, especially given my surroundings? Maybe, but damn she looked good.

“Is this where you take me to my grave and reveal Tiny Tim will die if I don't change my ways?” I walked up beside Death. “Because, I never honestly understood that. Did the kid die because Bob Cratchit couldn't afford heating oil or what?”

“Don't ask me. I hate Dickens.” Death shrugged her shoulders. “The only work of his I liked was
A Tale of Two Cities
and that's because there were decapitations.”

“I'm starting to like you,” I said, taking up position beside her. “You're funny.”

“All gods are comedians,” Death said. “Surely you've realized that by now?”

“Fair enough.” I crossed my arms and stared forward, deliberately not looking at the headstone. “In any case, you lived up to your end of the bargain. I got to meet with Keith, talk to my brother one last time, and so on. I'm willing to hear your sales pitch.”

“World domination,” Death said, starting her offer off.

“Go on.”

“Unlimited power. Mystical might enough to shake the foundations of the universe,” Death continued, putting her arm around my shoulders. I could smell Mandy's perfume on her, causing my thoughts to become confused. It then reminded me of my childhood with Keith, my carefree days with Gabrielle, and the few moments in my life when I’d been free from darkness.

“Keep talking,” I said, trying to keep my thoughts straight.

“The person beneath you will not die,” Death whispered, her voice silky.

I didn't want to look down but I did. There, on the tombstone was the name:
Mandy Polly Karkofsky
.

“You spelled her name wrong,” I said, staring at the tombstone. I wasn't happy about this, it was emotional manipulation of the worst sort.

“It's not your wife,” Death explained, sticking out her hand. In an instant, a scythe appeared and she leaned in on it like a walking stick. “Your wife can take care of herself. Barring any overt godlike entities involving themselves, she'll manage to survive the Falconcrest City Zombie Outbreak just fine. Hell, I give her even money on surviving the rise of Zul-Barbas.”

“What about Cindy and Diablo?”

“Dead. Also, the new Nightwalker, who isn't important to you yet but will eventually enter your social circle. Angel Eyes—”

“Yeah, I don't give a crap about him,” I interrupted. “If it's not Mandy, who is this?”

I had a sinking feeling in my gut that I already knew. I'd shown Death my one weak point, the place where I was most vulnerable. My family.

“Your daughter,” Death said, confirming my suspicions. “Of course, she won't have a tombstone like this in real life. She'll never be born. Poof, like that, she'll cease to exist. It’s hypothetical it would even be a daughter. Genetic combinations are a bit like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get.”

“You get chocolates.” My tone was very low and very gravelly. I had my villain voice now.

“Mandy and I aren’t going to have children.”

“Maybe she’ll change her mind. It could be an accident. Maybe you’ll have them with someone else. Either which way, I can assure you with one-hundred percent certainty you will be able to have a child to love and care for if you serve me. She’ll also live to be born and enjoy the wonders of life if you serve me.”

I looked down.

Death smirked. “I have you, don't I?”

“You know you do,” I whispered to her. “How does it happen?”

“Without my help, you'll die,” Death said, looking down at the headstone. “You're a clever man, Merciless, cleverer than the majority of supervillains by far I'd wager. Not the smartest or strongest, perhaps, but the most wily. Still, even that won't avail you against the forces you'll be facing. Without you, Little Mandy here will never have a father.”

“I see.” My voice was hollow.

“Do you need a minute?”

“Yeah. If you don't mind.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Death said, giving her scythe head a little spin, “or, at least, I do.”

“
Cloak, am I being stupid
?” I mentally asked him. “
Am I letting myself being led by the nose here for a child who might never be born in the first place
?”

“
Yes
.
I wouldn't discount the fact she's lying either
.”

“Thanks, just checking.”

“
You're still going to do it, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring down at the headstone. “Yeah, I am.”

“Are you ready?” Death’s voice was almost sympathetic. Then again, she sounded like Mandy so maybe I was reading too much into it.

“Tell me what you need to do and I'm your man.” I took a long deep breath.

“First of all, I need you to deal with the zombie outbreak in the city.” Death gestured out to her realm. “Souls are being ripped from my realm and inserted back into dead bodies. I can fix your cloak so you no longer need to worry about accidentally creating more zombies but the other six cloaks are a problem. I need you to collect them from their owners.”

“By which, you mean, kill their owners.”

“Yes.” Death didn’t sugarcoat things. “Kill them and burn the cloaks thereafter. With my power, you'll be able to destroy their cloaks after they've been removed.”

“I won't hurt Amanda. She doesn't deserve this.”

“Not even to save your daughter?” Death said, tapping the tombstone. “You barely know the girl.”

“No, and to be honest, I'd like to throw her under a bus since I hate rich people.”

“
You're rich
,” Cloak said, sounding annoyed at my class warrior rhetoric. “
You have millions in stolen loot back at your basement.
”

“Shh! Don't interrupt my hypocrisy!” I snapped at my cape, looking back to Death. “But you said she eventually becomes my friend and I'm not going to turn on possible friends. That and my wife would probably object to my murdering a little girl.”

Amanda, of course, was only ten years younger than me but I was feeling pretty damn old right now.

“Interesting how desperation so quickly turns to bargaining.” Death looked at me intently. “Alright, Gary, take her on as your apprentice and I will offer the same deal I have offered to you. She can keep her cloak and help me gather up the wayward souls spread about Falconcrest City. The others must die, however. The entire Brotherhood of Infamy in fact.”

“No problem. If the Society of Superheroes somehow ends up putting them away before I can get to them, I'll break into prison and kill them. The Brotherhood of Infamy, I mean. The shit they've done means they no longer deserve to be considered part of the human race.”

Yeah, I was pro-death penalty and anti-superheroes killing people.

Weird, huh?

“
Two
, I would like you to assist any souls you encounter in moving to the other side,” Death said, looking mournful. “Lancel Warren spent the majority of his time hunting criminals and thus there's a substantial number of restless spirits moving about Falconcrest City. These ghosts are growing in number all the time.”

“Maybe I'll start an exorcism business,” I said, thinking of a certain movie starring Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd. “I can't promise you I will prioritize it highly but if I have the time and nothing good is on TV, I'll deal with the city's spook problem.”

“For a man that's supposed to be desperate, you're doing a lot of bargaining.”

“Blame yourself for wanting to hire the wiliest supervillain in the world.” I walked up to an angel statue before leaning up against it. “You should expect me to rebound quickly from life-changing traumatizing revelations.”

“Well spoken,” Death said, admitting I was right. “Finally, I want you to kill Zul-Barbas.”

I nodded my head. “Sure.”

“
Zul-Barbas is the size of a small city, capable of shattering planets with his mind, and a being even the gods fear
,” Cloak warned, sounding almost frightened. “
He's survived the destruction of several previous universes
.”

I vaguely recalled the Society of Superheroes fighting the monster several times during their long and illustrious career. Zul-Barbas had tried several times to destroy the world and almost succeeded. While the Society had managed to drive the monster back each time, Zul-Barbas only had to succeed once to win forever.

“I may need a couple of days to work on how to do that last one.” I winced. “It's a bit of a tall order.”

“The Brotherhood of Infamy exists for the purposes of destroying the world and Zul-Barbas's arrival is their endgame. They will have enough energy to bring him forth tonight.” Death looked serious, her face as grave as you'd expect it to be. “Poof. No more Falconcrest City. No more Mandy. No more supervillainy.”

“I see.” I felt sick. We didn’t have much time.

“Take this.” Death lifted up her scythe before giving it a little shake. In an instant, the weapon transformed itself into a gold coin. Tossing the coin to me, I caught it in mid-air. “Give it a rub when you need help. Transform it back by thought.”