My Super Secret Life…Villain 5

Chapter 5

Thankfully I passed out at some point as I was crying myself to sleep and there was the distinct sort of feeling that someone had shot me up with something fizzyly and bubbly and hurt like hell.

Really hurt like hell and right now it doesn’t feel much better.

My guts hurt.

My insides hurt and it’s like someone is grabbing them and squeezing and twisting.

I really am not a people person and yet right now I’m really regretting that and feeling very small now, very alone now and really, really scared. I’m too sick to go get help…and I can’t really call people to send an ambulance here…there’s too much stuff, I’m not starting over I’m not…

I really, really want my Mum…or someone that cares about me.

But that just wouldn’t be my life now would it?

So I’m here clutching my pillow lengthwise and shivering through things and petting the cat whenever she’s brave enough to come near…twice I went to pet her and touch her and she cat screeched in fear and took off.

Cat’s and dogs and horses are all sort of known to be able to pick out or pick out on some of the various Psi or Meta abilities.

I likely freaked her the hell out by power surging or something.

I know that I’ve woken up a time of two just soaked in sweat and too weak to really move. Just enough to force myself to eat some of those nutrient bars and gag the other stuff I need down before even chewing wears me out.

Wished I was dead.

Then I really wished I was dead.

I came too with the cat yowling at me…loud and anguished and plaintively yowling as she nudged my face and thwapped my head with a paw until I moved my head. I hurt from being sore but just from being sore and I couldn’t help but smile just a little as she went to her food dish and yowled and circled it like it being empty was to end of days.

“Oka…” (Cough, cough…) “Okay…I’m getting up.”

My voice is different. Deeper and softer actually, before I had that sort of a pre-puberty shrill edge that I couldn’t shake despite my age. I sound older now, like maybe my age if things had kept going?

I haul myself of bed and I’ve hair in my eyes and I my face and it’s not blonde any more it’s black…not just black but…no…seeing it through the light up close to my eyes…blue…it’s this deep, deep midnight blue.

And there’s a lot more of it that I thought there’d be.

I was actually expecting the jiggle, I was so expecting the whole jiggle and bounce whatever of me starting breasts. But no?

I sort of peek down my top and okay…my nipples seem a bit bigger but I have to look to notice and other than that they feel like I’m still a carpenters delight.

Actually maybe a bit more there in like muscle? Like a flat girl with great tone, or exercises or maybe like a professional runner. I might have burned off the body fat or it just hasn’t had a chance to settle but. I don’t feel itchy. Like they’re coming in or anything, even feeling them up is well doing a bit of feeling it but not feeling the whole breast thing and everything that’s supposed to be with breasts I think…well since apparently I don’t have them it’s a big question mark.

And that’s not pleasing the cat either who voices he displeasure again and looks up at me like I’m the bad master at some horrible kitten mill.

“Okay, okay…keep your fur on.”

This new voice is going to take some getting used to. I trudge to the kitchen and get a can of cat food, open it and proceed to try to fill her dish and as anyone with a cat will tell you is a pain when they won’t let you be.

Cat fed or rather gorging I fill her water and head to the bathroom to inspect the damage. I’m moving a bit different like there’s something swively about my hips and their center. I have sway.

“Uh-huh…”

I get undresses and check myself out in the mirror. I’m still femi-androgynous. I still have the girl plumbing and there’s hips but not really wide ones but a bit more than a guy would have and just enough to give me a…a…I think I have a really nice ass.

I mean I’m not sure as far as evaluating that stuff since I never really felt sexual before but my legs are longer and I have this really tight and curvy bottom. Great aside from my girly kinds of clothes I’m not sure if any of my pants will fit.

My hair has to be two feet longer, years of hair growth in a span of days…and it’s the only hair on my body it seems I’m even bald down below.

There’s a hint of blue in the roots of my hair where in meets my scalp so it looks a bit odd and the same for my lashes which are really long and tinted like my hair with the blueness so it sort of looks like permanent eye make up.

My face too…fuller lips and fleshed out cheeks and I look really pretty regardless of my sort of girl sort of not gender.

But oh my random religious deity I stink.

“Okay shower time…”

Actually I perform number one and two first because it’s just better to do those things before you get into the shower. Not that I’ve ever number two in the shower but I’ve heard of people doing the first one in the shower and all I can say is effing ick.

Ick, ick, ick…my feet are down there y’know?

“Oh…I’m punchy…I need food.”

I think my silly sort of mood is from that light headed thing when your sugars are down. I haven’t even tried to use my powers yet and I’m not sure that I’m going to until I get clean and get some food in my system.

Washing uhm inside felt different…more awake? Sensitive? Different really different.

But oh my random religious deity washing my hair felt sooooo good…I think it made part of my brain melt and the heat was just…I actually shower rinsed and repeated the entire process.

I do everything on manual right now until I feel better and then until I can really cut loose somewhere safe. So it’s towel drying my hair and cursing as I walk to the kitchen trying to work the knots and tangles of a few nights clear…

“Oh screw it I’m getting a professional to do this.”

I start eating stuff right out of the fridge smelling and checking out what’s good of not and end up having to toss out some Chinese, and some cheese, five hot dogs left in a pack. My chocolate cake.

I nuke some eggs in a cheap scramble, eat two cheese slices before throwing the last of them over the eggs. Oh…that tasted like more, it must be the protein.

I grab another two cheese slices and my jar of peanut butter and head into my bedroom and start gong through my clothes. Most of my shirts and sweaters fit I tend to baggy or stretchy clothes anyway. I have about three pairs of baggy pants that sort of fit. I think I gained about four inches in leg length and my butt’s changed shape. Two other pairs can make decent cut offs.

My panties are way too tight, all of my underwear is off really. The same thing with my tights and my leggings and my shoes…dammit, shoes…my sneakers, boots.

“Great it’s not quite starting all over again but it’s close.”

I get some trash bags together and I start sorting things through. I really might as well start to houseclean and de-clutter while I’m doing that. I put on some music and in between spoonfuls of peanut butter I start bagging clothes and everything I don’t want, don’t need or want something new for and haul it downstairs to an empty closet so I can give it away for charity.

Actually if I can get a hold of Sheppard or maybe…Link…I can give these things to the refugee’s and mutants down in Freaktown.

It takes a few hours and I feel better from moving around and the food I’ve eaten have started to filter through my body and I don’t feel as spacey or as punchy. I still don’t feel like me even though I’m me…I’m still sore and aching in that growing pains way. And my arms are a bit longer and I’m taller so there’s a very strange thing where I’m taller.

…… “It’s like going from being thirteen or fourteen to seventeen or eighteen…or rather catching up…”

“Fucking Jeff…just had to be right.”

Sigh.

I get dressed. I need to go out. I get into my least tight pair of underwear boxer briefs and I put on a denim faded skirt and one of my bras after loosening things to fit the changes to my shoulders and have get my gel inserts in. yes I dress as a girl mostly well because it’s how I pass best for a normal. I toss a once far baggier t-shirt over that and my large army jacket and grab a few things. Marbles, switchblade, a few zip ties, disguise make up. Stuff just in case…

Then my purse, yes remember part of my disguise as a normal what girl doesn’t usually have a purse. Mine is a re-made army shoulder bag with all sorts of gothy shoulder flashes sewn onto it like bio-hazard signs and peace symbols and stuff like that. I get a pair of sunglasses on and check the mirror. I look like a sort of gothy-punk-emo girl. In this city it’ll do I’ll blend in until I can get different looks going on.

I head out and lock things up and make my way through the neighborhood until I get to the bus stop.

It’s still the same even though I feel different. The brickyards is old, it’s the two, three hundred years old remnants of where people settled in Ark City when things were booming with industries were bringing stuff in from the mountains and the mines and there were foundries and shipyards for space ships. But time took it’s toll, there was a war with another government over the alien ship and tech that’s there or was there and add in just things moving, progress it’s hard here.

But at the same time… there’s this grit in this section of the mega-city, people still here, hanging on, different neighborhoods in neighborhoods and this place still changing with immigrants and stuff.

But there’s other things.

I see hookers, cast off homeless people and there’s bad gangs around. Here in my home grounds the Fuller’s are the scum in charge. They’re a shave gang. Skin heads they used to call them ages ago but shaves have mutated like the rest of society and they’re not so much about the whole race thing even though they have like charter rules like no Blacks or Hispanics they are more about heritage and turf. Gangs are actually sort of clannish in these areas. There are faster more punker gangs in the faster areas of town but here the gangs are old and have history.

Doesn’t make them bigger or badder. Just a gang.

The Fullers get their name from the screwdriver, sharpened to a shiv it’s their signature weapon.

I see a car go past with four or five of them inside acting like they own the place. I watch people avoid eye contact, get bust doing something else, anything else. I see them stop and talk to one of the pimps down the street…baggy gets passed off for an envelope.

One of them is looking at me, checking me out and I don’t have my head turned to his direction. Sunglasses are keeping me safe from the whole eye contact thing but the way he’s looking at me like he’s going to take what he wants and he wants… crap…he’s getting out of the car and coming towards me with this cocky swagger. I see his eyes fixing on me and narrowing.

The bus pulls up just in time and I step inside quickly.

Could I take him? Yeah, easy.

But I live here, this is my safe spot and I can’t jeopardize that.

Grr…I’m going to have to deal with this somehow.

I feel his stare on my ass…I see him looking at me with this you’re mine smile as I sit down and he pulls a screwdriver and scrapes it along the bus. It’s the Brickyards…so no one says shit and there’s several people really cared that he did that.

I force myself to get up and move from the seat I took to another one away from him and that he see’s that he scared me.

You stare these guys down and they get a bit crazy like they’re being challenged. Oh he still might follow but he might be more content to stick to business and like his ego stroke.

But I’m really wanting to take that screwdriver and manually adjust his colon.

I get a few looks from the other passengers that’s mixed from annoyance to sympathy to having been there themselves. I sort of hunch in my jacket and keep to myself until I get a few transfers and then take the train.

“I so need a car.”

I do and I don’t see Ark City is huge, huge like the size…well it’s a city of close between two and three hundred million people. It’s incredibly spread out but at the same time…the ship’s right under us. This is the very first colonial city and it covers from one end of this sort of C shaped mountain chain to the other. Mass transit is really the best way to get places if you don’t have a big load of stuff. Traffic in this city can be absolutely thick…It’s like I live in a city like that Metropolis place from the comics but in reality it’s actually a lot like New York City used to be on Earth before Earth started that whole heritage city stuff.

But like every time you’re living without a car of your own you. Have to haul stuff you don’t want to from either the bus stop or from a cab. But I don’t want others to know where I live so I can’t have the cab stop out in front of my place.

Maybe I need to pull a real job and make some real cash to get a car that’ll pass scan. Yeah…
Dunno…
There’s stepping up your game then there’s getting in deeply over your head.

I get off the train at Bright Valley. It’s a big suburban area with that core of streets that are set up for shopping with malls and fast food and all the stuff the young urban-suburban people need to survive. Comet Coffee…I swear out here you can get something at one and still be drinking it by the time you get to another. It’s like that…actually it’s a “Little Boxes” kind of place. Look up Pete Seger in the history index if you don’t get the reference.

I get looks but not as I walk to one of the malls that has stores for my gift cards. I brought cash too. I still fit in even here because it’s not like Emo-goth-punk has gone out of style…never will as long as you have moody teens. There’s lots of other kids that look like me around here. Heck I’m actually kind of tame compared to some of them.

I’m not fussy either with stuff. I’ll shop in department stores, I don’t turn my nose up at anything really. But the first stop is at the clothing section in Smiley’s It’s the place that has the big yellow happy face logo.

New clothes, underwear…I get sets, and once I find a good pair in the right size I go and buy a few variety packs of them in cotton then some grown up underwear. I get some different gel forms too. Other stuff, jeans lots of those, two track suits, Yoga gear, sneakers and shoes and even some boots as I go through the store and the mall.

I’m getting quite a load by the time I’ve gone through Smiley’s and the rest of the mall. Thankfully there is a cart check place where you can drop off your stuff so I can get my other things. Groceries…those I can get locally. I do get stuff at a costume place, needed in my profession, the hardware store again there’s things I can use and pick up while I’m out. I get lots of white all weather spray paint, and I hit a sports supply place.

I go out for supper at a place in the mall. Nothing too fancy but I’m hungry and I eat and watch people.

Men…

Women…

I’m really trying to be objective here but…

Well I suppose it doesn’t help if I’m sort of still stuck in my neutral head space but there are a few people that I find…interesting?

Men…actually just a few and it’s usually just one maybe two things about them that I find interesting.

I’m saying interesting since I’m not sure about the whole attraction thing.

And then there’s women…those I’m finding more interesting than men, the way they move and look some of the styles but the curves too. The way that they bounce and swivel and sway, this strange sort of grace they have is much more appealing to me.

So…

Maybe if I start getting this thing down about gender and attraction and feelings and everything I might kind of sort of be a lesbian?

Maybe?

Or does me knowing I started off as a boy pre-mutations have me just adding that in? I know that seeing couples together or even just seeing friends hanging out hurts. I feel pretty lonely watching that and it’s hitting harder than ever and I get that headachy blinky thing going where I want to cry. I hold them back until it passes because crying seldom makes anything better and I hate doing stuff like that in public.

It’s harder to keep it I now too.

Hormones?

Anyways. I stay just killing time at the Mall until closing before getting a cab. Ten thirty at night it’s after midnight by the time I get home and the cabfare is really steep. It took over an hour to drive to within two blocks of home and that ran me close to two hundred dollars.

I really need to step things up, I need a car. The meter just kills you and I have to honestly cough up a pretty big tip for going way out of his way. An Aero-Cab would have been cheaper but really noticed.

And I have to stay off the radar.

I’m a meta powered mutant criminal…the cape types can say things are all above board but we both know the government…yeah, too tempting. And if I can dream up some pretty nasty stuff and all the rumors…

Yeah, no thanks.

The Fullers aren’t around and I don’t get a lot of notice getting home with the full load after two blocks. It’s late and I’m away from the places that people usually hang around at night at.

The cat’s giving me hell when I get home until I feed her again and change the litter and take out the trash after I unpackage everything.

Okay…

First thing. I reach out and try moving a few pillows…it feels pretty much the same sort of using my powers.

I get my smartphone out and take some pictures of me in front of one of my random brick walls in my place. I then print out one of me. I look emo but cute. It’s a nice girl picture and just what I need.

The rest of the night I spend practicing my powers.

Control, control, control…you get the best results with practice. Lots of practice. And things have changed. I can see kinetic forces, energy…it’s grey blue to me and the faster more energy or force it has the more that gets bright.

I have to want to see it and it’s strange because I can see the eddies of force like heat sort of. Like on a thermo camera with the waves and even some of those almost after images.

I close my eyes but still try to see and I can see the kinetic force around me. It’s scary and fascinating but the first thing I try is sonar…sound has force right?

It sort of works, it take a lot of concentration and I can only see/feel about five feet around me.

But…I get to see how my powers seem to work. I gather the bleeding off of free and decaying kinetic force and wrap it around something that I’m going to move.

I even gather some up to my hand.

I send a ball of it out and explode it…oh like a flare with my eyes closed.

It play with it for hours. Until I can do it by letting out these pulses from my body itself and it lets me see about thirty feet around me.

I get dizzy three times when I feel the cat.

It moved my field of sensing to lock in on the cat and it was further passed my arc of vision. A couple of those other tries more than I could turn my head. See it’s not a physical based sense so I can move it all around my three points around me.

“I’m like a bat…”

A harder pulse rattles things, and sort of sounds like a newspaper getting dropped on the floor. My walls in the apartment aren’t too thick and I get a dim glimpse of the wiring. Strong pulses and I can see through things…like ultrasound.

I go to bed dreaming of all of the implications.

………………………………The next day is all about the training. I do as much around the house as I can using my telekinetic. I’m stronger too…I can move about three hundred pounds now mentally, or rather control about that much force to lift that much dead weight.

That’s actually a lot of force added when you think about it. Plus being able to see the force I’m controlling really helps a lot and I spend all afternoon making shapes just out of force in my hands and then using the power to use them. saw blades, drill, cutting disc, grinder wheels, all made out of energy…kinetics.

Great things to break into places. Even better things to remove all the stains and stuff in the bathroom tiles.

It sounds mundane but it’s not. The more you know how to use what you’ve got the more effective you are.

I get ready after supper and my nap and a coffee.

………………………………......... My new look.

A black tinted heavy plastic hockey mask. Like the visors football players wear sometimes but this is a goalie mask. Hooded plain black sweatshirt under a black denim vest with lots of pockets. Cargo pants, heavy belt with all my pouches, hiking boots and metal studded goth gloves. I look badassed or I think so.

…………………………..I take a satchel with me and a few toys and things I need and my backpack with extras in it. And I head off into the night without my board…I don’t need it now…there’s a layer of two kinetic or telekinetic films under my feet and I’m skating on the fact that between the kinetic energy I have on the ground and under my feet is frictionless…ice like.

I’m pretty fast but with practice I’ll get faster. I’ll still use the board because the RPM trick is just too easy on the energy but tonight’s a trial run.

I hit this spot, they’re not ganged up but pay protection but they run drugs, ice-cocaine…that’s like crack but this is a snowflakey blue powder that absorbs and melts on the tongue and is really addictive like all the plague drugs.

I find the house place…the row of houses and I send in my marbles first. I hit the walls, windows and doors things in the hall and they start freaking out. I start to be able to see everything inside.

I reach out band burst the lights. Some run outside, I kick the first guy in the thigh…applied force it takes nothing to break bones. I break the thighbone with the kick, I stomp bash his knee, I force strike the next guy in the ribs and spread the force out…I don’t want to send his ribs through his lungs but I’m more than good with breaking everyone of them.

I step inside and I don’t spare any of them. I jam their guns with force and I beat them brutally. Not to kill them but to do more than scare them….I want them not able to be well enough to come back here.

One screams. “Who are you?! What do you want!?”

“My name is Rook…these streets here between Robertson corner and the mill tracks is mine…you let them know, you let all of the scum like you know that this is my area now…this is Sleepy Hollow and I’m the horseman.”

I use my reverb trick when I talk, I sound dark and whispery and raspy even while yelling at him and him I leave really beaten….

It sounds bad, it sounds mean but these are really piece of shit dealers and they’d turn someone out for tricks for owing on their addictions. I told you that I’m not that nice a person. I couldn’t care less if these shits burst into flames right in front of me. Sometimes there are people who aren’t worth the second chances.

I know the cops’ll be here soon.

I take the cash, I take the dirty drug money and I take some other things too but the drugs, the guns…I leave that to the cops.

Though I shape the spray of one of the spray paint cans I’ve with me and I leave a few images like a stencil of a rook chess piece with a rook raven perched and mantled on it all in white.

I slip out and parkour away over a few rooftops.

Eat three energy bars and drink a bottle of water…use a bathroom in a vacant place I feel out as I keep moving. I go to each one of those places…the boundaries of My Territory and spend a couple of hours peeling off all the tags and graffiti it’s easy I just sink some force in and feel the difference between the brick and the paint and pull the paint off.

I make my tags here instead…all white…all my double rooks, and I make sure that everyone will see it all.

It’s even on the pavement.

………………………My last thing.

I find him at one of their hangouts and I wait until he’s alone, heading out the fire door of the shitty hole in the wall bar. He lights a smoke and he…he doesn’t weigh three hundred pounds so I grab him around the ankles telekinetically and I pull him to the roof.

“Hold” him over the edge with one hand. I’m actually floating him. He screamed, he went for a gun. I spike of force his finger ad the trigger area. There’s blood, he screams. I can feel his buddies running outside hearing him.

I hold my photo to his face.

“See her!?” More yelling, more reverb.

He pulls his screwdriver and swings. I nudge his arm with force and he misses and stabs himself in the leg.

I sort of fake karate chop his crotch and “see”…my target and I pop one of his balls as the chop hits like a grape.

Big tough shave ganger screams.

“Do you fucking see her!?”

“Yes!…yes…yes…!”

“She’s fucking mine!? I ever!, fucking ever see any of you looking ay her ever again I’ll fucking kill you! Understand me!”

He screams, cries, whines…

“Do you fucking understand me!”

“Yeeeeeesss!”

I drop him the four stories down.

He hits hard and his friends open fire.

I move out of the way fast and head off running away parkouring again. I could have tried to fight them but without the advantage of planning and surprise…I’m not getting into a firefight. I’m not bulletproof unless I can mess with the guns.

That’s almost enough. I actually do a patrol of things from the rooftops. Like when I went to help Sheppard and Link I can clear jumps that others can’t by lifting my weight some. This lets me go places I shouldn’t be able to go. It’s just too far to jump. And in the dark of night…I move like a ghost.

I stop a pimp from beating a girl into a pulp in an alley and He’s quick work. I land hit him with a force strike but at less power to the diaphragm and drive the air out of him the grabbed him by the throat and held him there until the few seconds it took his lights to go out. I leave him fixed to my symbol held to the wall by screws I got from the hardware store. I took his cash and his bling and used his phone to dial the police. I try to make the girl as comfortable as possible….she’s already out of it.

It’s late, near dawn by the time I get home and I can make it there with a leap to my roof from the closest building nearly forty feet away.

I’m tired…hungry…sore…

A pan of home fries and a shower later and I fall into bed and smile at the pile of cash on my dressing table.

I just robbed a drug house of close to twelve thousand dollars, I hurt eight people total pretty bad tonight and I drew a line in the sand for my neighborhood.

This far no further.

I’ve never slept better in my life.