# The Forgotten



## Vergil (May 31, 2010)

Joe Stapleton.

"Um...is it ok to have my break now?" The question was redundant, the manager and all the customers were out like a shot. The cafe was empty and I was damned if I was going to clean up whilst everyone else went into the glorious grey outdoors. There were hundreds of people, I wasn't sure where they all suddenly appeared frombut the were all vying to catch a glimpse, just a glimpse, of the man in yellow. Yellow spandex. 

The part of town we were in was quite residential, there were folk leaning out of windows, most of them had their phones out recording the whole thing, I left mine in my coat in the cafe. Shit, I wish I had brought it. The street was typically middle class London; narrow, all the parking spots taken and too many damned potholes.

Spandex didn't have a name, well if he gave it I didn't hear it; but who cares? He flew down. Yeah that's right. Flew. Wasn't even flapping his arms or had a jetpack or nothing. He just hovered down like Superman. I looked for hidden wires but didnt see any, if this was a trick then it was the most elaborate one I had seen. The crowd was going nuts, as if we were a bunch of teenagers at a Boyzone concert. Why did I think of them? I hate them. I kept my cynical hat firmly attached to my noggin. There was always a rational explanation for everything, thats what my years of studying Psychology at City University had taught me. Perhaps this was a promotion for....nike?



I caught a glimpse of him, well his ass anyway. He was facing the other way, where a journalist, frantically took as many pictures as he could. This was probably the biggest story, ever, if Spandex was the real deal. I'm sure if the Queen came down and started to beat box, no-one would care. Ok I would, cos that'd be sick! Sick, as in really good, not the vomiting kind, I need to explain that every once in a while. My parents don't understand it either, not sure I do, JT taught me that. But anyway, yellow spandex ass. 

He was saying something. I couldn't hear through all the shouting. Some woman was crying for him to heal her. I don't know what was wrong with her, maybe something in the head. Seemed like it. He thrust up his hand to the sky, his palm open and facing up, as if he were an exuberant waiter with a tray in his hand. Then a yellow spinning disc suddenly appeared. There was a collective gasp. Some people ran in fear, most of them, including myself, stood with their mouths open eyes wide and in utter silence. I could hear the humming sound from the disc as it spun faster and faster. It was highly likely that it wasn't going to be used to heal that woman.

Then he threw it.

It flew through the air like a frisbee and I heard several crashes and lots of car alarms. There was screaming and more people ran. Much more. I couldn't see what had happened, but they were all running away from it, towards my direction and I was carried with them in the stampede. I saw to my left a man falling over, I hoped at the time that he had managed to get up. After being carried with the crowd for about 5 minutes I was finally free to move as I pleased.

Most of me told me not to go back. Hundreds of people couldn't be wrong and there was probably a damned good reason why they ran. My heart pounded as I took the first few steps to seeing what had happened. A couple of equally stupid souls joined me. Curiosity and cats eh. There were about 15 of us and we all stood motionless as we saw the utter destruction in our sights. He had sliced through each and every one of the lamposts in the street and they had all fallen over the road, onto the houses, onto the cars, onto people.

My knees went and I knelt to the ground. It was unbelievable and not in a good way. Utterly devastating is probably more like it. A few in the group were as useless as I was, the others ran to the aid of the closest of the victims, others were on the phone. God, I hope they were calling the emergency services. The man I saw earlier was trampled, he lay motionless, he wasn't the only one. There were a good few others, I didn't want to check, my mind telling me that they were alright, no need to worry, someone else would help. Everyone was looking ahead of them, no-one thought to look up.

A man who was getting aid from a girl in a suit, pointed to the sky. That's when we looked to the sky. Spandex was still there, looking down at us with his arms folded, hovering. He had the same look on his face as my year six physics teacher. That horrid condescending sneer as if we were the scum in the bath.

"You sick fucker!" a voice shouted at him. It wasn't mine, I wasn't about to provoke the flying superpsycho, "Wh...why?" the female voice said, clearly emotional. She held the man in her arms as if she cared for him, she was in tears.

Spandex spoke. His voice was deep, as if it was James Earl Jones' voice. It was calm, authoritative but frightening. "Because I can."

The comment silenced everyone. Something in us knew not to say another word. I took it so far as to hold my breath. Spandex hovered up higher and then flew away. I was still scared, my jaws and fists were clenched but I had finally taken a breath. None of us moved, the car alarms didn't bother us. The thing that snapped us out of it was the cry for help. We had to help, this was no time to rationalise or let our inner coping systems try to deal with it. I didn't know what to do but I had to do something. Where the fuck were emergency services?! 

Some people started coming out of the surrounding houses and went over to the injured. I did too. The ambulance never came.


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## Kuno (May 31, 2010)

*Melody Williamson…*


“This is my day!”  I said once more, my hands gripping the leather wrapped steering wheel in front of me.  “This is what I worked for my whole life!”  The chant continued as I sped down the freeway.  Everything I had done in middle school, high school, and college was preparing me for this moment.  When my friends were goofing off I was studying.  When there was parties, I was working to advance a career I didn’t have yet.  But, it’s finally going to pay off.

The others in my class went to work for local politicians on the city, county, or state legislations.  Not me, I was heading for an interview with a congressional senator.  “My dreams will come true!” I smiled into the rearview mirror as I thought about that.  An internship with the most popular man in the state.  His election had been a landslide and he wanted me to work for him.  My heart began to race again as I remembered the call from his secretary setting up the meeting.  

I wasn’t the only that had been preparing for this day.  My Dad had never been prouder.  He knew the kind of thing I had been working for and he made sure that I would succeed.  My parents didn’t have the greatest jobs in the world but they made due fairly well with out the massive education I had.  But, they wanted me to have so much more and my Dad continued on with that even after Mom died.  “I will make you proud!”  I exclaimed to the empty car as if my parents were with me.  My eyes misted up while I looked around and smiled.  

A brand new car was waiting in the driveway when I woke up this morning.  It wasn’t a Mercedes or an Audi but it was new and it was mine.  I remembered what my dad said as I walked outside to get into my old car to leave.  ‘I won’t allow my soon-to-be-senator daughter to start out in that old piece of shit!’ He laughed at my look and handed me the keys before giving me a quick awkward hug and sent me on my way.  “Thanks again Dad.”  I said to the empty vehicle then took my exit.

The huge capital building loomed before me and my teeth began to chatter.  Now I was getting nervous.  Glancing at the clock I realized that I was a half and hour early but that is okay.  “Better early than late!”  as my mom always said.  Again I smiled pulling into the huge lot before the building.  That was when I saw the protesters.  “Damn it!”  I growled sliding into one of the slots.  “I forgot that was today.”  I laid my forehead against the steering wheel and sighed.

I always tried to avoid thinking about the fact of the new so called superhero’s or mutants, as some liked to call them, running around.  Apparently though they wanted more recognition and understanding from the people of this state so they were having a meeting with the Governor and Congressmen.  “Great.  On my day too.”  I sighed again and grabbed the old pack of cigarettes I kept in my purse for emergencies and got out of the car.  

“They are freaks of nature!  Kill them all!”

“God created them so we must embrace them!”

“They are of the devils hand!”

“Comics come to life!  It’s our day!”

“Welcome!”

“Let’s see your powers!”

Over and over different chants assaulted my ears.  I lit my cigarette and leaned back against my car.  Two different groups were before me.  They were separated off with rope and policemen, kept apart by about hundred feet so that people who worked or needed in the building could come and go without having to weave their way through.  I continued to listen to each side and attempted to read some of the signs that were being waved.  Though I had to laugh as I looked at one group and saw many dressed up like the superhero’s of my childhood.  Superman, Batman, Green Lantern and so many more danced around and cheered.   I spent a few minutes trying to name off all that I saw but I gave up when I saw many I didn’t recognize.

Then my attention turned to the other side.  “Should have figured.”  I rolled my eyes as I saw that evangelist that had been spouting anti-mutant crap since the beginning.  Now, I’m not a religious person by any means but by there words wouldn’t the mere existence of them be because of god?  I sighed, dropping my cigarette and stepping on it before turning back to my car to grab my purse and briefcase.  “If there is a God he should just shut them all up.“ I mumbled grabbing stuff.  After shutting my car door I spun around to begin my trek inside but then I saw people racing out of the building.

“What’s going on?”  I mumbled taking a step forward.  Even the protesters seemed to notice that something wasn’t right and their chants died off except for one.

“This is not God’s will!  This is not God’s will!”  The same evangelist chanted from the front of the line.

‘Oh shut up!’ I thought to myself as I tried hard to hear anything that was being said.  Nothing traveled far enough to warn me what would happen next.  “Holy fuck!”  I yelled as the top of the dome exploded upward while a few figures flew out.  I stumbled back toward my car out of instinct but still I couldn’t keep from watching and wondering what was going to happen.

As it happened I didn’t have to wait long.  One of the figures, flew higher than the rest and turned around.  I remember he was wearing red, but I couldn’t tell you anything more than that.  Because, before I could get a closer look, he let loose a huge discharge of fire toward the building and the protesters in front of it.  The white hot flames engulfed everything before me then blasted me backward in a rain of debris and cars. 

“Fuck!”  I yelled when I slammed into the ground, the impact hard enough that I felt something crack in my shoulder.   Then I saw it.  A huge chunk of the building I was going to enter was coming right for me.  I didn’t have time to move.  “I love you dad!  I’m coming Mom!”  I screamed as the rock neared.  Bracing myself I waited for the im


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## CulinaryOtaku (May 31, 2010)

*Johnny Wallace*

I flipped on the news and, to no surprise to me, there they were. These "superheroes"... They're freaks if you ask me. Just a bunch of spandex-wearing freaks. They went to a live camera feed from a news chopper.

"Here we are, live at the scene at the Prince Enterprise building on East 68th Street where one of the superpower-granted individuals has attacked innocents by blasting the building with some sort of energy power. A large chunk of the building was blown apart, causing the rest of the building to collapse. We have no count on how many are dead in the accident, but-" The news reporter dragged on.

I flipped the TV off. The news called it an accident. That makes it sound as if nothing was meant to have happened. That was an incident, a deliberate attack on innocent people just because these freaks can! Fuckers. Aw, who am I kidding, I'm no better. But I never did anything bad to _that_ extent.

I've been someone of a famous name in the news, going by the alias "The Reaper". Yeah, corny name, I know, but I couldn't very well be going around with my real name. Cops would find me too easily. I was a big time crook, at least for this city. Bank robberies, murders, thefts, name it. Maybe raped a broad or two who looked at me crossways, but you know? I felt power.

Power is a dangerous thing. You have it and you feel like nothing can stop you. I'd been poor all my life and when I turned to the life of crime, power was my drug... And I was always high on it. People feared the thought of being the victim of the Reaper. It felt good. Being feared. Hearing about myself on the news.

Cops could never catch me. I had scapegoats. They'd go to jail. People would think "Is the Reaper behind bars?", but then I'd strike again while people thought I was in prison. It was great. I was invincible... Kinda.

Then these fuckers come along. Now I'm too scared to even consider doing a crime and through that fear, I've lost my power. And it is _their_ fault. Power was my drug and now I'm going through a withdrawal. And it blows.

Without my power, I have no money. Without my money, I have nothing. I'm nothing anymore. Just another scum of the Earth, like any of the people I've killed and any of their families who spent all of their inheritance on personal luxuries. All this world is and will ever be is a big green ball of scum.

Cold steel in my hands. It's taken the life of many. What difference is one more? And all it takes is one squeeze. My story is over.


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## Kuno (Jun 3, 2010)

*Ambulance 43...*

“Calling Ambulance 43!”  The voice echoed around the cab causing Charlie and I to look down at it.  “Ambulance 43!  Come on guys answer!”  Sally’s voice grew shriller as she continued to try and garner our attention.  “Damn it I know you’re there!”  She screamed into the mic on her end.

“Fine.”  Charlie reached down and grabbed our end of the microphone as I continued to weave our way through the traffic.  “What now Sally?”  Charlie rubbed his face as he waited for her to respond.  I took in his appearance and sighed.  Stubble was showing on his face, his eyes were a blood shot red and his clothes were in dishevel.  I knew I looked no better.

“We have an emergency over on Bingham Drive and West 54th street!  Some over powered freak went nuts and lots of people are down!”  Sally’s voice sounded as tired as we looked.  

“Damn it!  Send someone else!  You know damn well we are hitting 20 hours on the clock Sally.  We need to get some sleep!”  I knew the man next to me better than I know my own wife and under normal circumstance he would have never spoken to the kindly old woman like that.  Hell, she even bakes us cookies for christ sake!

“Don’t get your knickers in a bunch with me boy!  There is nobody else in the vicinity, let alone free!”  Sally knew Charlie didn’t mean it but we are all getting a little short tempered with the extra work that those guys have been throwing on us.

“Okay…”  Charlie was exasperated but he gave in.  It was our job anyway.  “But, after this we need to rest.  We won’t be any good to anyone at this rate.”

“Last one.  I swear Charlie.”

Again the box beeped as Charlie responded.  “Right.  So West 54th and HOLY SHIT!  LOOK OUT KEVIN!”  The mic dropped from his hand as he braced himself on the dashboard.  I swerved hard as the building crashed down in front of us.  The crash was billowing dust and debris everywhere.  I couldn’t see beyond the windshield of the ambulance.  I will be honest and say I really didn’t want to.  

“What the fuck happened?”  Charlie exclaimed from beside me.  His seatbelt was off already and he was peering out the windshield then his side window and back again.  “You okay Kev?”

“Yeah…”  I said still in shock over what I had seen.  “What do you think it was?”

“No idea.”  He sighed reaching for the door handle but before he could Sally’s voice come over the speaker again.  

“Charlie?  Kevin?  One of you better answer me!”  Panic was heavy in her voice though it was understandable, the last thing she had heard was Charlie yelling.

“Right here Sal.”  I returned after grabbing the mic from the floor.  “In the middle of one hell of a mess.”

“What happened?  What’s going on?”  

“Not sure Ma’am.  This entire apartment building just crashed down in front of us.  We’re lucky we weren’t made into mincemeat.”  At my own words I cringed thinking about how heavy the traffic had been in front of us.  “Damn it.  The other cars!”  I exclaimed dropping the microphone to the floor boards and rushing for my portable box of supplies.

“Hey Sally?”  I heard Charlie talking to our dispatcher again.  “I think you are going to have to try and find somebody else for Bingham Drive and West 54th.  Kevin and I are going to be busy for a while.  Hour 21 for us.”

“Unfortunately there isn’t anyone else.  Anyway, be careful guys.  Save as many as you can but don’t endanger yourselves!”

“When do we ever?”  It was strange to hear laughter in Charlie’s voice at a time like this but even stranger to realize you are laughing after it begins to fade.

“God bless you boys.  And, may god rest their souls.”  The mic clicked off and Charlie was beside me.  

“You know.  At a time like this…”  Charlie looked at me almost pleadingly then smiled.  “Remember what we would say when the bombs started falling around us?”

I nodded returning his smile.  We served together in Iraq, hence why we knew each other so well.  He returned my nod and while we packed up our gear and readied to help the poor souls out their we began to recite in unison, something we knew all to well.  “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me…”


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## Vergil (Jun 3, 2010)

*Scott Cole*

The phone was ringing off the hook and with every new panicked cry for help Scott became more and more agitated and demoralised. Fuck the bureaucratic form filling, he had to be out there, he had to help them, the phones be damned. The police station itself was packed to the rafters, the people who could not get through on the phones decided to go and complain in person. Scott had no idea what the hell was happening.

People flying through the sky, energy blasts from hands and these guys were just randomly killing people. What was the motive, what was the angle? Revenge seemed like the most likely, Scott was sure that these guys in spandex, whilst very fucked up in the head must still have the same brain as us. His experience told him that there must be a reason for killing a bunch of people, a reason usually fuelled by emotion; hatred, revenge, something like that. 

He watched the news as he thought this, shifting closer to the edge of his seat, like a sprinter on the starting block. The Prince Enterprise building in the city centre was attacked. What the hell was the point in that?! No-one important lived there. Then it dawned on him as he watched that Carrie's brother lived there. He heard a scream of despair from across the room. Of course important people lived there, they were important to Poor Carrie; he watched her as she ran out of the room and his heart ached for her. The news broke again. Whitehall this time, across the country, Live footage of a woman getting crushed by a huge piece of the building. Scott turned away, horrified by it and got up from his desk. The very next call, he would deal with personally, screw what the Captain said, he needed this. Just something to hold on to.

The phone rang. Shot fired at Fenton Drive. Scott was off, pushing past the countless people, each one of them crying for help. Help. Help! That's all he could hear. Push past it Scott, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth. His body was older than most people here but still had that power in his arms of 20 years ago. 

"Scott where are you going!?" the younger Captain shouted over the crowd

"I need this Cap, I'll be back keep your damned diaper on." Scott growled. The captain nodded his head, relations had always been tense. Scott didn't like the fact that he was being ordered by someone half his age, the Captain felt uncomfortable doing it, they had an uneasy understanding and so Scott got a little more leeway than most. He finally pushed past the horde, blocking out the increasingly agitated demands for help. 

Finally he got outside and he wished he had stayed in. Outside the Police station was a huge mass of people trying to get inside. Something big must have happened nearby. 'Ignore it, you don't have superpowers, you can't do shit.' he grimaced as he puhed past them. Fenton drive wasn't too far if he took a few backstreets, it was daylight and he had his uniform on so it wouldn't be a problem. 

He walked down the alleys, the dark and litterfilled backstreets of his city. If the centre of the city was the heart then these were the dark veins. He walked confidently, head held high, no sign of weakness and no eye contact. That's what you needed around these parts, then the scum know that you're not a victim. Any sign of fear here and you're as good as gone.

Scott arrived at Fenton Drive. He looked at his notepad and looked for the flat number where he got the call from. 

"Police ma'am I believe you called."

"Oh my, that was very quick, thank you so much!" the intercom said back at him. She sounded older than he was and scared. The door buzzed open and he went up the stone steps, trying to avoid having his remaining life leeched from him by the cheap lighting.  He got to the 3rd floor, where outside one of the green wooden doors stood the archetype of an old lady. Small, white haired, wide eyes and dressed with several layers of woolen clothing. He saw a cat walking in the room behind her and it just completed the picture. 

"Oh I am glad it's not one of those younger men, they don't understand that we..."

"I'm sorry Miss but we are a little busy today." He made a note to come in and check on her. She was obviously living here for the cheap accomodation. A quick search through the neighbouring bins would find syringes and all sorts. She didn't deserve to be here.

"Of course. It was just that door across from mine. Oh but he was a lovely young man, I do hope he's ok." she said. 

"Ok, I need you to go back indoors. If there were shots fired then I can't have you getting hit by one now can I?" he said. The old woman nodded and went back in her flat. He looked at the door infront of him and knocked on it. No answer.

"Sir, this is the Police, open up." he knocked harder this time. Still no answer. Damn it, he wasn't leaving not without doing something. He looked around and saw a fire extinguisher. He picked it up, grunting as he did so.

"Did...they make these things heavier?" he exhaled sharply and hit the door handle as hard as he could. It wasn't the greatest of locks and the old wood splintered and tore off the iron lock.

Scott had his gun pulled out, both hands on it like he was trained and edging forward. His eyes took in everything but he had to make sure the area was safe before investigating. The apartment started off with a small corridor. There was a living room/kitchen just ahead of him but he couldn't quite see round the corner. Scott pressed his back to the wall and quickly poked his head and gun around. His tension did not ease with what he saw. A dead body. 

There was no doubt about it. He was dead, with a hole in his head that big, and a pool of blood that vast, no-one could survive. There was the gun in his hand and it looked like a suicide, still no time to relax just yet. He systematically checked the other rooms and then called it in. Scott finally holstered his gun and looked at the body. He shook his head in disbelief at the old woman across the hall.

"A nice young man eh?" Scott said looking at Johnny Wallace AKA the Reaper. He'd been in and out of prison more times than Scott had changed his socks. He'd killed, robbed, raped and was on the Most Wanted list for the longest time. 'This must have been one of his safehouses' Scott thought and then sat down. He wasn't supposed to disturb the crime scene like this but he figured it was a pretty open and shut case.

"So Johnny, what made you do it? Guilt finally got to you? Hah as if." Scott looked at his blood covered face. He hadn't shaved in days, the house was a mess and the garbage hadn't been taken out. He'd given up, but why? "Now don't get me wrong you fucker, I'm glad you're dead. That one girl you raped was my daughters best friend, never showed any remorse for it either and just busted out of jail. Poor Sandy will never be the same. But you could escape whatever jail we threw you in, probably have oodles of cash, well respected in the underground and yet you decide to shoot yourself in the head. What's up Jonny what made you...."

Just then there was a massive explosion windows shattered. Scott knew instantly that it wasn't an explosion but a sonic boom; something had just broken the speed of sound. He lived close to a military base back home and jets would do it just because they could. It would piss him off no end. However, that boom was louder than one he had ever heard, no jet would be flying that low. His ears still ringing, Scott staggered over to the window and saw a lightshow in the sky. Two people were fighting. In the sky.

"Jesus!" Scot said looking at the various energy blasts coming from their hands and mouth. "What the fuck are these guys?" He looked back to The Reaper and understood

"Good move Johnny. Burn in hell you fucker." Scott looked down at the body. He got what he came here for, that silver lining. It wasn't much but at least he knew that these idiots in the sky were good for something. He walked back to the station to man the phones once more.


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## CulinaryOtaku (Jun 4, 2010)

*Burt Jacobson*

Burt took a large, deep inhale of a cigarette. "You know, honey... With all these freaks out there wearing their tight ass spandex killing people like there's no tomorrow, it's good to know that there are people like you who only have the purest intentions." He laughed in his raspy voice. He looked down to the hooker doing her work in his lap.

She pulled herself up. "Baby, there ain't nothin' wrong with a little spandex. Just picture me in that skin-tight stuff." She told Burt, grabbing his hands and running them along the contours of her body. "All of this, popping out, with nothing to hide. Too bad they steal things like they were theirs all along, including lives. And here I am, working hard for my money." She giggled.

"Yeah." He shuddered as her hands moved along him. He thought about how it was good that he withdrew all of his money from the bank and hid it in a safe in his closet. At least nobody could get it there.

The hooker laughed again, as if she had heard something funny. "Tell me, sexy baby, do you like to get a little kinky?" She asked, moving toward her bag of 'treasures' as if she had already knew the answer.

"Of course. I'm up for anything." He told her as she moved back to him as she donned an outfit of leather and lace. She held a whip in her hands and she snapped it at him. "Ooh." He laughed, getting up from his chair.

"Get in the bed now." She said in a dominating voice, snapping the whip again. "And make it snappy or I'll start beating you with this whip."

"Okay!" Burt said in an excited voice. He was enjoying this kinky shit.

"Say 'yes, ma'am.', not 'okay', got it, you scumbag?" She asked, pushing him back onto the bed and beginning to blindfold Burt.

"I think I like where this is going." He said, laying back and awaiting whatever came his way.

"I'm glad." The hooker said, rolling her eyes. Now that Burt couldn't see, her disinterest was obvious if you looked at her. She pulled out several pairs of handcuffs and started to bind Burt's wrists to the bedposts. She gave his overly large beer gut a hard slap. "You like that, bitch?"

Burt moaned in pain and pleasure. "Yes, ma'am." Was all he said as his ankles were tied to the other two bedposts, leaving him spread out, bare.

"You know, Mr. Jacobson, you really are quite the idiot." The 'hooker' said, her voice losing the seductress tone to it. "Most people would be less trusting of a street walker, especially in these times."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Burt asked, wriggling around.

"Consider it poetic justice. You live your life, a scumbag. You smoke, drink, have quite a large amount of money, and on top of it all, there's the strippers and whores." She laughed, pulling a large, thick dildo out of her bag.

"So I like to have a good time, there's nothing wrong with that. Now get over here and do what I paid you to." He commanded.

The girl laughed. "You really are dumb. I'm the one in control here." She said. "You take joy in using women for sex. I think that you should know what you do to them." She laughed, gripping the dildo intently.

Burt yelled out loudly as he was sodomized by the hooker's sex toy. It went all the way in so that not even the end could be retrieved. "What the fuck, you fucking bitch whore?"

"Oh, I'm no whore. I'm a 'freak'. Just a spandex-wearing freak!" She yelled, laughing as he writhed in pain on the bed, completely bound and unable to move.

"You. You're one of them?" Burt asked, starting to understand what was happening.

"Of course. We all have different abilities. One of mine is that I can read your thoughts. I know all about what kind of scum you are. Some of us, the more mischievous ones, formed a group called the Covenant. We are more or less criminals. You may be wondering why I'm telling you this." She giggled.

"Kinda. You know that I'm just gonna call the cops when you untie me and tell them everything." Burt threatened.

"Oh. You really are clueless. You aren't getting untied. And you aren't telling anybody anything." She pulled out a roll of duct tape and wrapped a large piece all around Burt's head, sealing his mouth shut so he couldn't scream. She got redressed in her street attire.

Burt tried to scream, but nothing came out. He was completely stuck and bound, no way to get out.

"Thank you for your business, Mr. Jacobson. And thanks for telling me where the safe is. I'll be sure your money goes to a good cause." She lied, walking to the closet. She clenched her fist and the lock broke off. The woman shoved all of the money into the bag that had all of her 'goodies' in it. She walked out the door and closed it. On the inside, the door deadbolted without anyone touching it. The hooker just smiled and walked away.


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## Vergil (Jun 11, 2010)

No-one can see me, no one can touch me, I walk the dusty roads of a modestly sized Indian village without footsteps, children run through me none the wiser. I'm not the only one. A few of us are here, 26 to be precise, such is the maximum number of students allowed in a class. We are here to learn about one of the most significant events in Earth's history, the rise of superpeople.

I look at the kids running after each other, the childish laughter filling me with warmth. The simple pleasures of chasing an old wheel with a stick or playing tag, I can't fathom children from my time doing such things. You'd be lucky to get them to burst out into a jog. I shouldn't be concentrating on the children though, I should be looking at the structure being built infront of me. It's not something people witness everyday, this was to be the birth of a God. The village had pooled together the money they had to erect a statue of this man. He sat cross legged in the most modest of clothing, though the simple rags that were draped over him looked majestic.  His expression was one of peace and tranquility with one hand holding some prayer beads and the other raised up, as if he were blessing all those who passed. The workers were putting the finishing touches to the statue which when completed would signal an entirely new festival.

The man was only known as Gurudev and the villagers revered him as a Holy man for the miracles he was performing. These were no con like miracles the kind which evangelists performed, these would genuinely cure people of ailments. There was a massive epidemic going around India at the time. Even though I was in an invulnerable state; merely a ghost observing people from an age long dead, I still found myself avoiding the afflicted. Truly the disease was terrible and what was worse was that the cause was unknown, however it had infected many people. The only thing that was known was that it was not airborne but it was spreading via some other means, most medical research pointed to the water. Only the strongest of medicine was able to stop death's grip from claiming everyone in India, though the specialised medicine was in severe short supply and only the very wealthy could afford it.

The only other hope was Gurudev. I approached him, his eyes were closed and the prayer beads slipped through his fingers as he murmured in a language I did not understand to a God I did not know. I sighed at his task, it was truly an impossible task, to heal everyone in India. The population was in its billions and India itself was a huge land mass. He was in his early fifties and was remarkably fit looking for his age. His posture, as he sat, was perfect, his head was held high and it seemed that the broad shoulders could take the responsibility of the task infront of him. 

A woman knelt by his knee and cried for help, offering what little offerings she could give. She was clearly infected, the telltale black marks invading her light brown skin in ugly circles, the hunched over back and the long locks of hair falling out. The holy man stopped his chanting and opened his eyes. He smiled benevolently and put a hand on her head. A red glow emanated from his hand and in just a minute the dark spots were gone and her back returned to its normal state, no longer crippled by the very muscles there to support it. Tears fell from her eyes but these were ones of joy, relief and gratitude.

I watched him, doing the same thing over and over; villagers came, his hand glowed and then they were healed. Truly, this man would go down in history as one of the finest men on the planet.

"So, what do you think?" our lecturer asked, his smart grey suit and windsor knot looking distinctly out of place. He had a little half smile on his face as if he knew what the answer would be

"I see nothing wrong, in fact surely he is the Mother Teresa of that generation." one of my classmates piped up

"What was the first thing I said when we started this course." the lecturer asked

"There is no such thing as a truly selfless act." the strudent replied, I remained quiet, observing the Gurudev

"Exactly. Also, with any crime, immediately suspect the one or group that benefit the most." the lecturer said the half smile growing larger. He enjoyed his job, that was for certain. I thought about it,

"Well the pharmaceutical companies. They appear to be making a great deal of money. But, are you asking us to question him?" I motioned towards the Gurudev

"Yes. That's exactly what I want you to do. Even if the act appears to be in goodwill. I have not disclosed this man's name yet and I shall tell you now. Gurudev's name is actually Jason Khan." the lecturers words put an icy silence between the classmates. We all looked back at the Gurudev. 

"That's right. This man, at this moment is putting a plan in motion to cause one of the biggest world wars in man's history. It was often reported that his followers were utterly dedicated to him. Can anyone tell me how?" 

A good question but seeing what we had seen it was obvious. 

"They revered him as a prophet or even a God." I said again, unusually participating a great deal in this lecture.

"Correct.  Now the second reason was his ability. People erroneously believe that his ability was to heal. His ability was actually to control chemicals. You want to know the most horrific thing? He poisoned the entire country. Getting into the water system is no great issue for him; he infected everyone. Millions died because of his thirst for power. This leads on to the other reason his soldiers were so willing to die for him, and that is fear. It was one of the most amazing and creative use of his powers. Notice how he would always heal the head. Why not the heart? That would be more logical as it spread the cure faster. No, instead it was the head and he would plant a small chemical that would affect their perception when he chose. He would always trigger it before battle, the soldiers, when captured would describe their enemies as monsters, horrendous beings that must be destroyed. Jason Khan used the fear and trust as his most powerful weapons."

The Gurudev smiled warmly at the children as they played. I shuddered. One of the worst things he did was use child soldiers that acted as human bombs. With such tactics, China, Pakistan, the entire UAE and the Middle East were under his control in an alarmingly short time. He essentially had a population of billions as an army. He had women, children, the elderly and handicapped all fight for him. They believed he was God and those that didn't believed they were under attack by monstrous beings, made easier to believe with the recent media attention on superpeople. He soon controlled the oil, and a vast array of nuclear weapons. He had crippled the world to its knees. 

"The plan was absolutely perfect in its execution. His next stop, right after this village. Anyone care to take a guess." we were all in deep thought, but no-one came up with an answer.

"The pharmaceutical company of course. By now his media attention was so huge that it was widely believed that he was a miracle worker. Add to that his appearance of a holy man and his well known silver tongue, that when the one medicine that could cure those that could afford it, mysteriously vanished, he was seen as the only one that could heal them. He turned the precious medicine into salt, the rich and powerful were at his mercy."

"H..how do people plan like this....?" a girl asked, she was in tears as she watched him heal one after the other, essentially cursing them.

"Every once in a while you get people like that. That's really all I can offer you, we still have to believe that there are good people out there. Afterall, how was the war stopped?"

He was right, the superheroes stopped it. During those dark days they banded together and stopped it, but even with them helping it was a war that lasted close to a decade. 

"Well, enough of this. Do remember that is is all examinable and you will be fully aware that there is a mountain of research on this guy, but please try to keep to the word limit. That concludes our class, feel free to roam around if you wish."

With that the teacher disappeared. We all stayed and watched Jason in morbid silence.


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## Vergil (Jun 14, 2010)

I don't know how long I've been down here. My voice is hoarse and I can't cry any more. I'm reminded every so often that my leg has an impossibly large rock on it and that it hurts. It hurts so much. 

There's not much to do when you can't move and the only stimulus to your deprived senses is the, aforementioned searing pain, the rumbling of your stomach and the distant dripping of water. That's kept me alive as the water has trickled down just at my face, allowing me to survive for a little while longer. I'm not dehydrated but there are times that I wish for death to take me. No-ones coming. I know that. All that's left is for me to die of starvation whilst I think to myself about random things. More and more I've been dreaming of food though. I could really go for a full English breakfast! I swear if I get out of here I'm doing nothing but eat. If Ben doesn't like his new overweight wife he can take one up the arse! 

I'm trying to remain as good humoured as possible. "When all else fails, smile!" was the cheery words of my father to his 8 year old daughter after she had lost her mother to a cancer that didn't care how much love she had in her heart. I try to break into a smile, it makes me feel better for a second, until I realise I have little energy to maintain it. On second thought, I could really go for a double pepperoni pizza, I'm not sure if they deliver here or not. Bad joke, but it keeps me amused.

I remember how I got here. A rare warm and sunny day outside. The sun came out in all it's glory to announce to everyone in Edinburgh that it was time to sprint to the Meadows and lie on the grass, soaking up the precious cancer inducing rays. I'm just as guilty as anyone for that, I had fully planned to do the same on Friday afternoon and skip off from work early. My husband hates tan lines but he'd have to deal with them, I'm not showing off my tits to most of the population of Scotland just cos he says "it looks like you're still wearing stuff when you're naked" and then quickly adding "But you look really nice!" Asshole. But he's my asshole and I love him. You're out looking for me aren't you Ben? I'm holding on because of you..

I hear a sigh escape my lips, as is the way of being trapped your mind wanders down the endless corridors of your memory, opening doors to your past and...um...ok I think I've laboured that metaphor enough. What was I thinking about again? Oh yes, how I got here. So happily I was walking to work, greeting all that passed in a cheery manner, shaking their hands as I sing with a full orchestral backing. The wind catches my umbrella as it lifted me skywards and I land perfectly outside the door of my job that I totally love and don't hate in the slightest.

I remember thinking how I was going to treat myself to a chocolate donought from Greggs, along with a sausage roll, a cheese and onion pastie and a packet of crisps. Prawn cocktail flavour, of course. I wish I had bought that before I went to work, what I would give for a morsel of that tasty savoury....

....

Oh yes! Well for some reason the building collapsed on me. I heard the windows smash and a horrid wind and I did what I usually do in situations like that (because they happen to me on a daily basis) and screamed my bloody arse off. Why do we do that? I get that maybe it's primal defense mechanism or something to intimidate predators and maybe call for help but what bloody good does closing your eyes and screaming do when a fucking building drops on you? Anyway, I opened my eyes and realised my leg had a lot of the building on it and somehow I'd been spared death as all the old stone fell around me. I'm lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. 

So that's how I'm here, you understand now Laura? Why yes Laura that was a truly interesting story but what do you think caused said building to collapse. Well, you sexy piece of ass, it's difficult to say. Terrorists but really why would they target a struggling financial advisor firm. Could we be onto some phenomenal money making idea in our recent push into Ethcal funds that the taliban have deemed us worthy enough to kill us??! No. Probably not Laura, don't be silly. More likely it was those damn superpeople. I read about the yellow spandex destroying most of London, and then a blue spandex coming in to try and kick his ass. They probably ended up in sunny edinburgh. I know Newcastle, Berwick upon tweed, Middlesborough aaaand....Stoke? I think it was Stoke, well they had some random buildings fall over.  I hope they both lost. Pair of idiots, if you ask me. Though I'm not sure who 'you' is. It's probably me.

So, what else? I need to pee. I'm trying to hold it in for as long as I can these days, more out of boredom than anything else. Not doing too bad but I'm just about at my limit and need to...

Wait, what was that?

The rubble, it's moving! 

"HELLLP! I'M DOWN HERE!" They better hear me. Please let them hear me!

"HEEEELLLLLLLLLLLP!!"

"FUCCCKKING HEEEELLLLLLLLLP!" More rubble is being moved, really fast accompanied by a female voice grunting that is getting louder and louder.

"Fucking shut up! I'm coming!" the voice yells back at me. Then suddenly my eyes are in utter agony as light fills them up. "Is this one ok to move?" The voice asks someone else

"It's fine, just move it!" I'm screaming hysterically at her and trying to open my eyes. 

"Shut up! Don't piss yourself, you'll get out in a minute."

"....too late..." I mutter under my breath

"I have superhearing and that's gross." My eyes finally adjust to the light. I look at the face of a teenager with white hair and a red leather coat with a black corset underneath. She's looking over at a paramedic who looks at the damage and me.

"Can you feel your legs?" the paramedic asks me. Yes I can you arse!

"Yes and they hurt..please...please get me out of here!" I plead, the tears that dried up suddenly flooding down my face. The leather clad girl looks at me with a smile. 

"Seriously, don't worry. We're on a proper rescue mission here. I won't leave you behind. I promise, OK?" her smile....it's so warm. I feel the terror and desperation fade away. I'll trust you.

"O..ok" I breathe out and leave them to do their job. "Wh...what's your name..?" I ask the girl who is in the painfully slow process of saving me

"Kagami. Kagami Rei. Here, while you wait, try calling someone you know." She hands me her phone. I nod gratefully and quickly tap in Ben's number. Three rings. One to hear it, one to fumble around in his pocket, one to answer. I hear his voice. He starts crying. So do I. I'm not alone anymore...


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