Caverns
folder
Original - Misc › Superheroes
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,240
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Superheroes
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,240
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Caverns
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Along the way the WDF, now a whole four members strong, counting Tokit, did its best to make a dent in super-crime. Kiliah even had a new super-hero name; Black-knight. As a registered and sponsored super-team, Zephirus usually acquired contracts to capture and bring in specific individuals who the team, in turn, would hunt down and bring back to justice. Occasionally they would use their powers to help people involved in natural accidents and other things of that nature, but that was more promotional stuff than actually doing anyone any good. It was not as if their combined powers could stop a volcano or anything of that nature.
Today they were expecting Zephirus to show up, promptly at 6:00, to give them their next assignment. Axiom was flitting around, as was usual when his boss and creator was going to show up. One might believe he was nervous, though he insisted that could not be true since he was a machine. Kiliah and Bruiser watched television together. Kiliah was having trouble concentrating because Tokit was making silly remarks, that only she could hear, of course.
Zephirus showed up right on time, with his blond assistant in tow. The team lined up in front of him for the debriefing. The did not have a conference room or anything, so they used the small recreation room. Zephirus’s assistent handed him a large photo print, which he held up for the team to see. “This is Lilitu. By all accounts she is a real, live succubus. In the US she is wanted for questioning on multiple suspicious deaths, all of young men. Until recently she was hiding out in Namibia, but rumors say she has returned to the states and is being sheltered by various super-villain organizations.” He paused as he realized that Bruiser and Kiliah were more preoccupied with giggling madly than listening to him.
“What, may I ask, is so funny?”
“Th-that’s supposed to be a succubus?” Bruiser gasped, “She looks like Spock in drag!” The two of them started laughing even harder.
Even Tokit was making a amused sort of vibration at the back of Kiliah’s brain.<The universe’s most logical haircut.> it added, making Kiliah laugh so hard tears began to stream out her eyes. Old-school Star Trek was one of her favorite Earth programs, and Bruiser, Tokit, and she watched penty enough of it to have their own inside jokes. She could not stay upright anymore, and fell back on the small couch behind her.
The girl in the picture did indeed sport a dark, Vulcan-esque bowl-cut. Overall she was alright looking; her body was nice enough, in a typical magazine model sort of way, she had a cute face, well-applied make-up, a kinky bondage get-up, and a fierce expression. The hair, however, was just so unbelievably dorky... and her demoness pointed ears did not help one bit.
Zephirus smirked, just a little, and waited for the two girls to compose themselves. “Yes, well, do not let her photo fool you. I have been informed that in her presence men find her completely irresistible.”
Grote was trying to make himself look small as he sulked from one corridor to the next. The Caverns, as the place was often called, was a large winding network of concrete halls and small rooms half filled with dirt and rubble. Time had battered the place, but had yet to beat it. It was probably the cheapest super-villain ‘safe haven’ in the states, located in the middle of Texas partially underneath some grazing land and some no-man’s land. It was not particularly well hidden, but it was more trouble than it was worth to the police to raid the place. They probably figured the long-condemned network of what was basically underground college dorms would just collapse sooner or later. Besides, most of the cooks who stayed there were small-timers and wanna-be’s. By super-human standards, sure, but still not worth the effort.
Grote was one of these small-timers. He had been mutated from a young age. He had no idea how or why, he was abandoned when he was still a baby. His mutation was not... attractive. This led to him being a complete outcast, even as a mere child. No one wold adopt him and he bounced from foster home to foster home. To make a long, angst story short, his desperation for affection led him to do many stupid things for people he thought cared about him, at least a little, and now he was in hiding from the authorities, as well as a few B-string super-heros he had manage to piss off personally. Still, his threat level was considered nill since his mutation offered him very few actual super-powers.
It was unfair, for the sheer level of physical mutation he suffered from, why should he get zilch for powers while super-strong, flying, invulnerable types got to go around passing as mundies when they wanted to? He was a sickly grey-ish yellow green all over with hair that refused to get clean and was always stringy, though he kept it long all the same so he could push it over his face and maybe obscure his brow-ridge. His eyes were bulgy, his mouth was too wide, he had no nose, his limbs ballooned out at the joints like he had Proteus syndrome and ended in hands with two fingers and a thumb and feet with only two toes. Plus he slouched. All that and his list of powers included, well, having big hands and feet. His eyesight was pretty good, and his slimy skin was slightly permeable... although that offered few actual advantages. He had been told by a doctor that this same skin carried Magainins, as well as mild toxins that killed viruses, fungi, bacteria and small insects and parasites. So, while it was not noticeable, his skin could heal much faster than a standard human. Big deal.
Naturally he was even picked on here, among fellow freaks. He was mocked, bullied, and bossed around. The first two bugged him to no end. Why did the 6 foot muscle mountain who shots lasers from his hand need to make himself feel superior by intimidating the little slimy guy, anyway? The outright bossing him around he could put up with, however. He had learned that making himself a mild inconvenience to replace was the only way to for him to gain some minim of protection for those that wanted to take his face off just for looking at him. If he was lucky he just might score something to eat as well, that would save him for risking being seen when he had to go steal something for himself. Really, he would probably be as well of just going to prison, but at least here if he closed himself in his room for days at a time the others would probably forget he existed and leave him alone. At least here he could always kill himself if he changed his mind about living.
Today he snuck quietly down the hallways, hoping not to be spotted. He had already gotten confronted once today by a shape-shifter who had one too many, so he just wanted to get to his room and nurse his bruises. Unfortunately, it was not to be. He heard someone approaching and saw light flickering from behind him. He froze, hoping not to be noticed. The clicking of heels cam closer and a woman passed him with a candle. Grote narrowed his eyes in the dimness. It was the new girl, the one who had shown up yesterday. She was bad news, Grote had heard rumors... Besides, just looking at her scared him shitless. Plus she had a an attitude, like the whole word revolved around her. Except she could get away with it. One look into those hypnotic eyes and any guy in the place would bend to her will. Grote could hear his own heartbeat increase just looking at her. He could feel other things too, especially when she turned to look at him.
“You,” she said, “What is your name?”
Cold terror spread through Grote’s entire body. She was staring him straight in the eye. He blinked, stuttered, swallowed, looked at the ground, and stuttered some more. “I- uh, um, I...”
She took one shapely fingure and pressed it under his chin, lifting his head and making him look at her. “Your name.”
“G-g-grote...”
“Hmm...” she murmured. Her lips quirked somewhat. “And that would be short for..?”
“G-grotesque, ma’am.”
She barely suppressed a smile at his expense. “Well, I suppose you could do worse. Your name might succeed in striking fear in the hearts of 10 year-old-girls. Ugly little S.O.B, aren’t’cha?”
Grote broke eye contract, staring off to the side since he could not stare at the floor. She let him go and stepped back a pace. “Come with me,” she ordered, “I need you for something.”
________________Oooooh, what will happen next? Hawt sex, perhaps? Not-so-hawt sex? Super-heros fighting super-crime? Find out next week, same bat time, same bat channel. And by that I do not mean I will update next week. Oh, and I had no beta, plus I felt all sick and crap, so I never edited this. If you spot a mistake, I am sorry. Drop me a note and I will fix it, promise ^.^
Okay, I got a couple reviews for Armor that seemed to encourage my writing my sequels, so I was motivated to start! Yey!
____________
Along the way the WDF, now a whole four members strong, counting Tokit, did its best to make a dent in super-crime. Kiliah even had a new super-hero name; Black-knight. As a registered and sponsored super-team, Zephirus usually acquired contracts to capture and bring in specific individuals who the team, in turn, would hunt down and bring back to justice. Occasionally they would use their powers to help people involved in natural accidents and other things of that nature, but that was more promotional stuff than actually doing anyone any good. It was not as if their combined powers could stop a volcano or anything of that nature.
Today they were expecting Zephirus to show up, promptly at 6:00, to give them their next assignment. Axiom was flitting around, as was usual when his boss and creator was going to show up. One might believe he was nervous, though he insisted that could not be true since he was a machine. Kiliah and Bruiser watched television together. Kiliah was having trouble concentrating because Tokit was making silly remarks, that only she could hear, of course.
Zephirus showed up right on time, with his blond assistant in tow. The team lined up in front of him for the debriefing. The did not have a conference room or anything, so they used the small recreation room. Zephirus’s assistent handed him a large photo print, which he held up for the team to see. “This is Lilitu. By all accounts she is a real, live succubus. In the US she is wanted for questioning on multiple suspicious deaths, all of young men. Until recently she was hiding out in Namibia, but rumors say she has returned to the states and is being sheltered by various super-villain organizations.” He paused as he realized that Bruiser and Kiliah were more preoccupied with giggling madly than listening to him.
“What, may I ask, is so funny?”
“Th-that’s supposed to be a succubus?” Bruiser gasped, “She looks like Spock in drag!” The two of them started laughing even harder.
Even Tokit was making a amused sort of vibration at the back of Kiliah’s brain.<The universe’s most logical haircut.> it added, making Kiliah laugh so hard tears began to stream out her eyes. Old-school Star Trek was one of her favorite Earth programs, and Bruiser, Tokit, and she watched penty enough of it to have their own inside jokes. She could not stay upright anymore, and fell back on the small couch behind her.
The girl in the picture did indeed sport a dark, Vulcan-esque bowl-cut. Overall she was alright looking; her body was nice enough, in a typical magazine model sort of way, she had a cute face, well-applied make-up, a kinky bondage get-up, and a fierce expression. The hair, however, was just so unbelievably dorky... and her demoness pointed ears did not help one bit.
Zephirus smirked, just a little, and waited for the two girls to compose themselves. “Yes, well, do not let her photo fool you. I have been informed that in her presence men find her completely irresistible.”
Grote was trying to make himself look small as he sulked from one corridor to the next. The Caverns, as the place was often called, was a large winding network of concrete halls and small rooms half filled with dirt and rubble. Time had battered the place, but had yet to beat it. It was probably the cheapest super-villain ‘safe haven’ in the states, located in the middle of Texas partially underneath some grazing land and some no-man’s land. It was not particularly well hidden, but it was more trouble than it was worth to the police to raid the place. They probably figured the long-condemned network of what was basically underground college dorms would just collapse sooner or later. Besides, most of the cooks who stayed there were small-timers and wanna-be’s. By super-human standards, sure, but still not worth the effort.
Grote was one of these small-timers. He had been mutated from a young age. He had no idea how or why, he was abandoned when he was still a baby. His mutation was not... attractive. This led to him being a complete outcast, even as a mere child. No one wold adopt him and he bounced from foster home to foster home. To make a long, angst story short, his desperation for affection led him to do many stupid things for people he thought cared about him, at least a little, and now he was in hiding from the authorities, as well as a few B-string super-heros he had manage to piss off personally. Still, his threat level was considered nill since his mutation offered him very few actual super-powers.
It was unfair, for the sheer level of physical mutation he suffered from, why should he get zilch for powers while super-strong, flying, invulnerable types got to go around passing as mundies when they wanted to? He was a sickly grey-ish yellow green all over with hair that refused to get clean and was always stringy, though he kept it long all the same so he could push it over his face and maybe obscure his brow-ridge. His eyes were bulgy, his mouth was too wide, he had no nose, his limbs ballooned out at the joints like he had Proteus syndrome and ended in hands with two fingers and a thumb and feet with only two toes. Plus he slouched. All that and his list of powers included, well, having big hands and feet. His eyesight was pretty good, and his slimy skin was slightly permeable... although that offered few actual advantages. He had been told by a doctor that this same skin carried Magainins, as well as mild toxins that killed viruses, fungi, bacteria and small insects and parasites. So, while it was not noticeable, his skin could heal much faster than a standard human. Big deal.
Naturally he was even picked on here, among fellow freaks. He was mocked, bullied, and bossed around. The first two bugged him to no end. Why did the 6 foot muscle mountain who shots lasers from his hand need to make himself feel superior by intimidating the little slimy guy, anyway? The outright bossing him around he could put up with, however. He had learned that making himself a mild inconvenience to replace was the only way to for him to gain some minim of protection for those that wanted to take his face off just for looking at him. If he was lucky he just might score something to eat as well, that would save him for risking being seen when he had to go steal something for himself. Really, he would probably be as well of just going to prison, but at least here if he closed himself in his room for days at a time the others would probably forget he existed and leave him alone. At least here he could always kill himself if he changed his mind about living.
Today he snuck quietly down the hallways, hoping not to be spotted. He had already gotten confronted once today by a shape-shifter who had one too many, so he just wanted to get to his room and nurse his bruises. Unfortunately, it was not to be. He heard someone approaching and saw light flickering from behind him. He froze, hoping not to be noticed. The clicking of heels cam closer and a woman passed him with a candle. Grote narrowed his eyes in the dimness. It was the new girl, the one who had shown up yesterday. She was bad news, Grote had heard rumors... Besides, just looking at her scared him shitless. Plus she had a an attitude, like the whole word revolved around her. Except she could get away with it. One look into those hypnotic eyes and any guy in the place would bend to her will. Grote could hear his own heartbeat increase just looking at her. He could feel other things too, especially when she turned to look at him.
“You,” she said, “What is your name?”
Cold terror spread through Grote’s entire body. She was staring him straight in the eye. He blinked, stuttered, swallowed, looked at the ground, and stuttered some more. “I- uh, um, I...”
She took one shapely fingure and pressed it under his chin, lifting his head and making him look at her. “Your name.”
“G-g-grote...”
“Hmm...” she murmured. Her lips quirked somewhat. “And that would be short for..?”
“G-grotesque, ma’am.”
She barely suppressed a smile at his expense. “Well, I suppose you could do worse. Your name might succeed in striking fear in the hearts of 10 year-old-girls. Ugly little S.O.B, aren’t’cha?”
Grote broke eye contract, staring off to the side since he could not stare at the floor. She let him go and stepped back a pace. “Come with me,” she ordered, “I need you for something.”
________________Oooooh, what will happen next? Hawt sex, perhaps? Not-so-hawt sex? Super-heros fighting super-crime? Find out next week, same bat time, same bat channel. And by that I do not mean I will update next week. Oh, and I had no beta, plus I felt all sick and crap, so I never edited this. If you spot a mistake, I am sorry. Drop me a note and I will fix it, promise ^.^