Bork Lazer

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Fuck, I think Static, where he is right now, would most likely get smoked by the big cheese of whoever runs the Totalitarian empire for speaking out. If Static were to survive, he'd totally join a resistance group.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

All right, people, let’s do this for one last -

Wait, seriously?

‘Who are you?’ That’s your first question?

All right,then. Let’s do this for the first time ever.

My name is Herman Schultz.

You may have heard of me.

For the last five years, I’ve been hiding in Dakota City as Harry Schumer, chemistry teacher at Hemingway High.

Once upon a time, I was once the infamous Shocker of New York City.

Or so I wished.

I’ve robbed banks. I’ve staged heists. Got a little lonely. I then formed my own team of villains known as the Sinister Syndicate whose members include the Clock King, the Wall, Kite-Man, Stilt-Man - yes, those are all real villains. Don’t expect me to explain their names - Condiment King and me.

So, after that, we robbed some more banks together. We staged more heists together. We fought some superheroes together. We ran away like cowards together. We drank together. We went bowling together. Word of advice for those who see the Wall, don’t let him near your supply of beer.

Then, after 16 years of all of that, I finally got my Wikipedia page. I broke my shoulder. Things went south during our last job together. We….fell out with one another, but luckily, I had a backup plan.

Being a teacher has given me time to retrospect about who I was.

See, I’ve never been caught or arrested. Ever. I went into supervillainy for the jobs. The deals that would set you up for life. Forever. I’d never been the type of guy who was interested in plans of world domination or poisoning a city’s water supply. I just wanted money. I’ve taken pride in the fact that I’ve never killed or purposely injured someone during one of my jobs.

Maybe, that’s why I’ve never gotten a lick of respect. Maybe, people just prefer their villains to be monsters more than human.

Funny thing you should know. After I retired, everyone knew Harry Schumer but no one knew the Shocker. Not one single person. I wonder how the other guys are doing now.

Fast forward to present. I was driving to my house. Ready to book it out of Dakota City after hearing how the guy who stole my suit was wrecking the town. Saw some metahuman tailing me. Ambushed them. Turns out that… my star student, Virgil, is Static. That was a shocker.

So, here I am taking out a can of soda for him and wondering how my life ended up at this point……………………...

---

Virgil felt trapped, even though the smooth sky-blue wall-paint and the domestic urban furniture tried to assure him that he was going to be fine. He knew that the foundations of the house were built on a mountain of robbed cash and crime. The interiors of the house were sparsely decorated with all of the basic necessities. A TV. A fridge. A kitchen sink. The lawn was overgrowing, weeds at the edges, looking as if it hadn’t been mowed in a while. There were no photos at all. No family photos. No photos with friends laid around. Overall, it looked pretty lonely.

“ Hey, you a fan of Coke or Pepsi? Can’t give you anything else since you’re underage….”

No response. Virgil only noticed the question a few seconds later as if he was a lagging computer before Herman spoke again.

“ I’ll wager you as a Coke guy, then.”

Herman Schutz, not Harry Schumer, or otherwise known as the Shocker was currently searching through the contents of an opened fridge. He took out a six pack of beer cans and a single red-one which he couldn’t make out the brand of. Finding out that his chemistry teacher who was also the vigilante who may or may not have broken his arm had a taste for cheap beer was the least weirdest thing today.

“ I saw your resignation letter. Is it true? You’re leaving Hemingway High?”

Virgil looked at Herman expectedly, waiting for an answer. Herman pried the ring of the aluminium can open, a thin hiss issuing out followed by the melody of carbonated bubbling. Herman turned back over towards him, holding two drink cans, one a Budweiser and the other a can of Coca-Cola, probably to give to him. He slid the cherry-red one over towards Virgil before taking a sip of his own.

“ Kid, I’m not sure what’s true anymore,” Herman closed his eyes, letting out an exhale of relief. They sat silent, staring at each other pensively from each end of the table. Herman then motioned towards the Cola can, shooting a annoyed stare at him. “Virgil, trust me. No one poisons a can of Coke”

Static shook his head slowly. His voice was hollow as he cracked open the soft drink “ No, it’s not that. I’m just still trying to process all of this.”

“ Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m feeling about the same.” Herman snorted. “ Virgil Hawkins and Static. One in the same. Who would have guessed?”

Virgil looked upwa How…..how’d - Why come here to Dakota City? Why work as a chemistry teacher?”

“ You ever heard of the Sinister Syndicate?” Virgil gave a quick shake. Herman shrugged in disappointment. “Figures. We weren’t all that popular back in New York City.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “ Who’s we?”

Herman looked away, lost in reminiscence, as he slowly spoke each and every word to make sure he didn’t get a single detail wrong.

“ Clock King, Kite-Man, the Trapster, Stilt-Man, Condiment King, the Wall and finally, me, the Shocker.”

Virgil scoffed.“ Seriously? Condiment King? The Wall? They sound more like saturday morning cartoon villains.”

“ Would you let me finish?,” Herman asked before continuing on.

“ Kite-Man operated as the getaway guy. Clock King was always the brains. The Wall and the Stilt Man were our heavies. The Condiment King was the chem expert. The Trapster was our tech guy and I? - ” A infectious smile of nostalgia appeared on Herman’s face “ I was the cracker. The best damn safecracker on the East Coast. We were all good friends. For a time.”

Virgil watched as Herman’s smile became sour, his brown brow furrowed with a storm of bad memories.

“ Needless to say, it didn’t last forever. We broke up the gang after a job…” Herman drawed out the word. “ a job went bad. I had a guy make a set of forged papers for me just in case. I travelled to Dakota City by bus, signed up onto a school with the lowest teacher requirements and bought a house here with the money I had.”

Herman took another sip as Virgil looked downwards for a few moments, his coke can untouched. Virgil then inched closer to the table.

“ Could you help me?” asked Virgil “ At least, tell me who stole the suit so I can find them.”

A flash of embarrassment crossed Herman’s face “ I would if I could. I didn’t manage to see their face and I didn’t manage to get their name. Whoever took it was smart. He knew how I operated. How I would react. He broke into my home, disarmed my traps and took a prototype of my shock gauntlets. I managed to grab ahold of him but he broke my nose and then, booked it out of here.”

Herman pointed over Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil turned around and saw a boarded up hole in the middle of the wall, as if a rhinoceros had been let loose inside his home.

“ You said this guy broke your arm.” Herman leaned back on his chair, arms crossed. “ How confident are you that he won’t break something else next time?”

“ Next time, I’ll be more careful.”

Herman looked to the side and repeated Virgil’s words in a mocking fashion.“ Sure. Sure. More careful. Does your dad know about this?”

“ No, I’ve made sure not to tell hi-”

“ Good.” Herman finished off the can of beer, crumpling it up in his fist. “ Because I would be more concerned if he approved of what you were doing right now.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “ Look, I’ve heard this all already so why don’t you just stop being patronising and let me be?”

Herman suddenly stood up, placing both of his hands onto the table, before speaking with palpable anger in his voice.

“ I’m different from all those other people. I’m not some civilian, some news reporter, a radio pundit or even your best friend. I’ve played this game of cops and robbers before. I’ve faced plenty of superheroes before. So, listen closely. You’re not Wonder Woman. You’re not Captain America. You’re a young seventeen year old boy - “

“ I’ve got powers!,” Virgil exclaimed whilst interjecting Herman in the middle of his rant. “ I’ve been doing this for one month - “

“ - A young seventeen year boy! If you’re not careful, before you’re twenty, you’ll end up like….”

Herman’s voice trailed off into a soft whisper as he sat back on his chair, looking defeated. He avoided the look of Virgil’s eyes, flinching as pain tore him apart from the inside.

“ End up like what?,” asked Virgil.

Herman didn’t respond for a while, his fingers intertwined together in a ball of cold sweated skin. He then began to speak, his voice empty and vacant of any mirth that had once been on his person.

“ Back in 2011, me and the gang were planning another heist. This time, we’re going all in. We’re planning to hit the New York Stock Exchange. The Wall had gone on vacation in the Bahamas so we needed another heavy guy. We start advertising, calling in favours but no one wants to work with us. In comes a newcomer.” Herman’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “ Larry Buchinsky. Went by the name of Electrocutioner. Tells you the type of guy he is, doesn’t it? He’s fresh. Impressionable. Enthusiastic. Too enthusiastic. Said he was a fan for me. Me and Clock could see that he just...wasn’t all right. Something was off about him when we made him the seventh member of our group. Kite vouched for him since he was the one who brought him into the fold.”

Herman paused for a moment, tapping on the table and taking a breathe in.

“ Before all that, we’d been tangling with this young vigilante for the couple of past months. We wagered that he was a few years older than you. He went by the name of the Crimson Avenger. You know, the old crime-fighter? Sort of the classic type. Wore a cape. He tended to monologue every time he met us, like he was in an old cartoon. He’d been operating in New York for a few months. Clock thought that he looked like a college kid. The kid had guts, I gotta say. Made the jobs a little bit more exciting. ”

Herman looked down, away, in shame.

“ We start doing the job. All went well until the Crimson Avenger knocked out Kite when we were hauling out all of the loot at the back of the vault. I tell Clock and the others to get away while me and Buchinsky would create a distraction. I blast the fire extinguishers. The entire hallway turns misty white. I blast down a nearby wall and shout for Buchinsky to follow me. Buchinsky….Buchinsky goes straight for the kid like a coiled cobra. Started wailing on Avenger with his own electro-knuckles.” Herman’s face was beginning to turn white. “Me? I just stood there like I was supposed to. I didn’t even bother to help the kid until I heard a cry of ‘Mom!’. That got to me. Really got to me. I knocked him off the Avenger but I was too late. There was so much blood that I couldn’t even make out his face. By the time we both made it out of there, I asked Buchinsky for an explanation.

Herman’s teeth gritted together as he growled out the next two sentences.

“ Buchinsky didn’t even shed a tear. Started asking whether or not I was on his side. Said that it was necessary. ”

“ I almost wanted to turn myself in that day. All of us did. I showed them the evidence. The dried blood on his gauntlets. Buchinsky admitting to us. I can still remember his smile. It was like he took satisfaction in it. Stilt blamed Kite for bringing him in. Kite blamed me for allowing him to kill Avenger under my watch. Clock stayed silent, like usual. That’s the story of how the Sinister Syndicate split apart. I never took up the mask again.”

Virgil stayed silent, fingers trembling in shock. Herman sniffled, breathing in and out, gagging at the foulness of remembering his deeds.

“ The thing is, when I see you now, I see the Crimson Avenger. I see your dad crying in the morgue. You don’t have to be the hero, kid. No one ever asked you to be.”

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

Getting superpowers is like a sugar high. You feel invincible. Unstoppable. You think your powers can solve all your problems, but it can’t. Maybe, you can leap tall buildings but you can’t leap over the trouble of paying your student loans. You can lift objects with your mind but it won’t help you bring back the dead. Powers, gadgets nor all the training in the world can’t solve who you are as a person.

Hero. Villain. Bad guy. Vigilante. Criminal.

We all start at the same point.

---

location: unknown

time: 10:45 PM

“ Goddammit!” He swore, shielding his face with a crooked elbow from a shower of electrical crackles that erupted out of the gauntlet he was currently repairing. The dropped screwdriver rolled on the ground underneath the bottom of his workbench. Searching for that later was going to be a pain in the ass.

He knew that the Kilowatt Kid would be a challenge but he’d never expected the kid to be capable of such an act. He winced at the still fresh memory of getting caught on fire. Being the WickerMan wasn’t his ideal image of an first encounter with the famed vigilante of Dakota City. His nerves still felt like they were cooking in a cauldron after what happened. The blackened, charred suit was currently sitting in the laundry to cleanse the stench of burnt polyesterized rubber. The wiring in his left gauntlet had somehow melted apart as well, ruining the mechanisms that allowed him to be the Shocker.

With a yell of frustration, he tore off the welding mask and threw it across the room. He waited for the satisfying sound of glass breaking, wood cracking, dented metal.

Only it didn’t.

The mask was held mid-air, smoky shadow intertwined around it. The single lamp in the room, responsible for providing the bulk of illumination, was snuffed out like a candle. The windows closed shut. The curtains billowed inwards as the shadows began darkening into a black fog that was swallowing whatever it touched.

“ Having a bad day, Shocker?”

Black rivers began pouring out of the shadows, forming a puddle in the middle of his floor. A featureless hand gushed out of the puddle, grabbing onto the edges between shadow and wood as something or someone hoisted themselves out. The black penumbra of darkness shifted and hardened into a form of a man with indistinguishable features, aside from a matching set of leather pants and vest. A pair of milky white pupiless eyes glared at him from the darkness that seem to choke the light out of his apartment room. Inwardly, it thought it was an overly dramatic entrance but he wouldn’t dare say that out loud to the Master of Shadows, Ebon.

“ I thought you said you’d handle it. Static. Dead. Nothing for me to worry about. ”

“ It’s a process, Ebon,” He picked up his welding mask off the floor. “ Breaking his arm was the first step. Next time, we meet. It’ll be our last.”

“ Well, Lightning Junior managed to molotov you even when you had him on the ropes.”

He turned around trembling, angrily staring at Ebon’s cold stare. The damned bastard was currently leaning back on his own couch, relaxing in his room like he’d owned every place he ever walked in.

“ Why don’t you do it yourself, then?”

Surprisingly, Ebon didn’t look like he took any offense to the question. The shadow meta merely tilted his head mockingly, looking at him like he was a child. He stood up and began to pace around the room, hands behind his back as he began recite a rehearsed speech.

“ I could, but ensuring the safety of our turf is the number one priority of my gang. I’ve learned from the gangs of the past that you don’t off someone with no planning. This requires grace. Precision. The will to see something through.” Ebon stared at him pointedly. “ There’s also the fact that killing a fellow Bang Baby would only make people question my position as leader. The Meta-Breed doesn’t kill fellow metahumans after all. We seek to promote the rights of metahumans within this city. As soon as that betrayer, Static, is out of the picture.”

He snorted. “ So, you’re making me take the fall? I thought we were partners.”

Suddenly, the shadows rushed out towards him, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up in the air. “ We’re not partners. You can’t be part of the Meta-Breed if you’re not a metahuman.”

Shadowy shackles gripped around his arms and legs as he was forced head-first into whatever dimension Ebon inhabited. It was a whirling dense penumbra that swallowed all white and so black that it could set shadows on shadows itself.All sensation was driven from his body as he rode through nothingness for a while, screams pouring out from his mouth but no sound to make of it. Eventually, he exited the dimension. A sign of relief escaped his lips, only to notice the faint whistling of wind in his ear.

He was falling.

“ HOLY SHHIIIIIIITTTTT -”

His legs and arms were flapping uselessly in the wind. He could hear his heart thumping, his brain calculating the time it would take for him to crash to the -

A portal formed in the midst of his free-fall, sending him crashing back into the sofa of his apartment. He groaned as Ebon stood over him, arms crossed.

“ See the difference? You’re missing the meta part, Buchinsky. Without your fancy tech, you’re nothing. Remember your place and do your job. You’ll get your pay fair and square at the end. If I don’t see the Kilowatt Kid’s head on a platter in the next two days,.....” Ebon forced Larry Buchinsky’s head to look into his emotionless gaze ”..... you better start watching your shadows closely.”

Ebon walked backwards, dissolving into the walls as his lamp flickered back to life once more. The room returned to the way it was originally. Spotless, albeit with a dazed Buchinsky resting with his limbs splayed on the couch. Crap. Ebon had issued a deadline. His schedule just became even more tighter than usual. Larry palmed his face, his heart still quick as a rabbit from the sky-diving that he was involuntarily forced into, courtesy of Ebon. He palmed his face as he took out a flip-phone from his pocket. Punching in the numbers, he waited for a certain somebody he knew to pick it up.

“ Hey, Robert? You there?”

“ Buchinsky, it’s good to hear from you. Have you managed to secure those donations yet?”

Larry frowned. “ About that….I might need an extension on that deadline….”

---

location: hemingway high

time: 9:30 AM

5 minutes more became Virgil’s only mantra as he struggled to survive the horrible enviroment of High School Chemistry. It’d somehow transformed over the course of 4 years from Virgil’s most favourite subject to his most feared subject. Learning the course was akin to sticking your hand into boiling lava. Even Mr Schumer couldn’t salvage the downright painful nature of that which was O-Chem. Virgil stared at the slow hands of the clock as it moved at a snail’s pace towards the end of the period. Texting with Richie who was currently stuck in the battlefield of applied physics was the only way to stave off boredom.

<ElectricBandit>: so, remind again, what’s the plan to find him?”
<ThirdG3AR>: i get an IMSI, intercept calls in locations that you last saw the shocker,, we track him, we bust him whilst he’s sleeping, hand him over to the police, easy as cake
<ElectricBandit>: sounds complicated
<ThirdG3AR>: you have a better plan?
<ThirdG3AR>: besides, you wanna brute force it? you told me your powers are still recovering

That stung. Virgil flexed his fingers, jolts dancing between the joints and digits. It was a drop in the water compared to what he could do before. Summoning the electric forcefield for the first-time had locked down his reserves. Whether it was an unforeseen effect of over-using his powers -

“ So, if we oxidise 3-methyl-pentan-2-ol with acidified potassium dichromate under reflux, what product would that give-”

- Or whether his system had been permanently damaged by the explosion

“Virgil?”

- he doubted that he could even fly anymore.

“ Virgil!” Mr Schumer had only raised his voice by a few steps in pitch but it was enough to knock the air of conversation out of him.

“ Wha-? Oh. 3-methyl-pentan-2-one.”

“ Correct, but do please try to concentrate more next time.” Schumer signed, white hairs running through his scratching fingers. He looked around the entire classroom, motioning towards the calendar with a single red cross. “ I know O-Chem’s a mighty big pill to swallow, people, but you’re gonna have to swallow it if you want to get through those mid-terms….”

Most of the class shuddered at that reminder and Virgil was a part of the majority. The mid-terms were due in two month’s time and virtually every student in the school was divided into two camps. Ones who treated it normally and the others who treated it like life and death, peering through every scrap of question and past papers in a competitive mania to be the best. Virgil was in the former. Being Static made the notion of exam weeks all the much more comforting, especially after the incident that had occured in the last few days. He tangled a finger around the shoulder sling that hung around his limp right arm.

“ Alright. Class over. Do Exercise 13-14 and complete the questions I gave to you for homework.”

There was a shuffling of chairs, half-hearted nods and goodbyes as the class strode out to lunch break. Virgil stood upwards, the sling cradling his right arm as he hung one of his backpack straps to make his way out of Mr Schumer’s classroom. He began to walk out of the classroom.

“ Virgil, could you stay back a while? I need to give you back your results for the one you did yesterday.” Schumer dusted off the chalkboard, hurriedly rubbing the eraser against the stenciled white chalk.

“ Right.”

“ Do you honestly find the sound of my voice that boring, Virgil?” Schumer opened a cupboard underneath his desk, rifling through folders and stacks of paper. He looked up towards Virgil, an arched eye raised towards him. His steady fingers flipped through the numerous sheets of paper in a blur, intermittently pausing at moments to examine before continuing forth in his search for Virgil’s paper. “ Even though you’re one of the best in the class, it shouldn’t be a signal for you to nod off and rest on your laurels.”

Pulling out a creased manila folder from the cupboard, Schumer laid it on his desk and began parcelling through the contents, muttering incessantly behind his breathe. He took a sip of his mug, Virgil tasting aromatic fumes of roasted coffee as it was lifted upwards towards Schumer’s mouth. “ How’s your arm?,” Schumer didn’t look at Virgil as he asked the question.

“ Fine. It was just an accident.” Virgil rubbed the bandaged cast unconsciously. “ Shouldn’t happen again in the future.”

“ With your dominant hand, no less.” Schumer signed in concern. “ Well, you have to count your lucky stars that you didn’t suffer more serious damage. I’ve seen people who had to be amputated. Grown men twice your age.”

“ So, you’re over the age of 34, sir?”

“ You may have been my student for the last five years, Virgil, but my age is something best left out of - “ Schumer’s smile disappeared as he suddenly pinched his nose. “ Ah, I left it in the teacher’s room. You can stay here. I’ll run and go get it.”

Schumer made his way out of the classroom, shutting the door with a light click. Virgil signed as he peered around Schumer’s classroom for a while. Unlike other teachers in Hemingway, Schumer made the effort of at least decorating his room. Project posters, diagrams and sets of old newspaper clippings on various scientific discoveries such as Hamilton’s innovations in xeno-mineral analysis or Stone’s synthesis of new cybernetic materials. He eventually spotted one of his old 8th grade projects that he did on electrochemistry. The water glue that held the entire ensemble together was beginning to fall apart and it looked garish and horrible now compared to how he held it up as an artistic achievement back in his early junior years. A positive and negative symbol were written side to side, guarding the word “ELECTROLYSIS”. The universal designations for charge.

Virgil stood around awkwardly, bag on the floor and waiting for Mr Schumer to return with his test report. There was a half-written document on Schumer’s monitor. He leaned forth towards it but held back the reins on his curiosity.

He shouldn’t.

Virgil stared at the clock. 3 minutes since he last left the classroom. Nobody to see him around…..

He really shouldn’t.

Virgil looked around, making sure the coast was clear as he stepped forth towards Schumer’s computer. Squinted eyes perused the contents of the half-baked Times New Roman scrawl.

Dear Principle

Please accept this letter as a formal notice of my resignation as Chemistry Teacher of Hemingway High School. I propose that my last day of employment will be 20th April. I would like to thank the staff of Hemingway High School for allowing me the opportunity to work in this position for the last 8 years. It has been an honour…………

In his shock, Virgil jostled one of the cupboards open with his feet as he bumped into the table. One of the bottom cupboards creaked open and a flash of yellow caught his eyes. Ignoring it, Virgil shook his head, stepping back away from Schumer’s desk and turned away from an illusion he had to believe. April 20th. 3 weeks away from now. Why? Why would he be typing it up? His mind fell back to the flash of yellow, beam of light shining at him from the window. He stepped back towards the desk and leaned down.

He pulled it an inch open.

Yellow fabric.

His fingers trembled with every small yank.

He could make out a soldering iron.

He pulled it out all the way.

A yellow rubberized mask. That of the Shocker.

His right arm began to ache once more.

---

Honing in on a single radio signal would have once been hard before the Big Bang. The sheer volume of electromagnetic signals. Dakota’s electrical budget was notoriously fickle with blackouts and power outages being considered a weekly event. The lack of traffic meant that there was only one moving radio signal per street. Virgil capitalised on that as soon as Mr Schumer - the Shocker left the school building, whistling and driving off in his Toyota Corolla. Watching the vehicle move in his senses was akin to watching a firefly in the dark, an interconnected web of radio and phone signals trailing behind its wake.

It infuriated him about how easily he could have taken down the Shocker if he was at full strength. He could have lifted his car in the air like a toy, shorted out the man’s engine or just simply stun him with a simple shock. A silver lining was that his dwindling reserves had regenerated enough to the point where he was able to surf, albeit at a slower past than he was used to. He poured an inkling of more power into the manhole, changing it from the speed of a bobbing lifeboat to that of a half-tank motorcycle. Dying bolts of faded blue dripped from the bottom of his surfboard as Static kept a patient pursuit on the Shocker.

Eventually, the signal stopped cold half a kilometer away, in a block of apartments that was on the outskirts of Utopia. He passed by rows upon rows of mansions, luxurious apartments and streets where the drains weren't inundated and filled with the shedding of trees. The city had poured generous amounts of coffers into sustaining Utopia as an high-end urban locale. It was located far away from Hemingway or any of the inner city districts, reserved for only those who could cough up enough money to escape the sight of the Black Hole.

Schemer's car was parked on the outside of a gated residential district. It wasn't that surprising that the Shocker would live here after all. He'd got out already. Virgil was currently looking at the concrete wall outside of the gated neighborhood, a plan forming in his mind. Knocking out all of the security cameras would be impossible if he couldn't find a outlet that connected to the main electricity supply. Although, generating static electricity to scale over wouldn't be that diffi -

" Don't appreciate you following me home. "

Virgil whipped his head around wildly in the afternoon sun, hands raised and hissing electric smoke, only to receive what felt like a stiff punch to the back. He hit the grassy lawn face-first, dirt in his nostrils, as he struggled to get up. A heel on his forehead planted his groaning face back into the ground, scrunching him against the earthen soil. His casted right arm complained to him under the pressure.

“ You know, when you’re a distinguished career criminal, you spot things that most people don’t usually notice,” A hand grasped him by his dread-locks, raising his face up from the dirt and forcing him to look at another. "Damn, these heroes are getting younger by the second. You don't even look a day past eighteen." Schumer's - The Shocker's calloused hand grasped him by the collar of his suit, pulling it up by the crooks of his fingers. Schumer tilted his head curiously as he stared at Virgil's face pensively, and then, looked down towards his broken arm. His left hand began to move toward Virgil's goggles, intending to pry them off his face. Virgil began squirming and bucking like a fish on dry land, stopping as something cold and metallic was pressed against the bottom of his chin, a hair breadth's away from a death threat.

" Stop squirming and stay put."

He was pointing the butt-end of a metal gauntlet under his chin warningly. It was constructed differently to the one he faced yesterday. It was old. Weathered. From another place in another century. A series of large ringed vacumn tubes were connected to a miniturised power pack on the back of the Shocker's shirt. The Shocker slowly unstrapped the googles off Virgil's face, throwing them to the side. Virgil trembled as he lowered his eyes towards the mishandled googles on the ground and then, back at Schumer's surprised face.

" Virgil?," Schumer took a step backwards, dropping Virgil onto the ground.

" What, Shocker?" Virgil spat out the words towards him. " You don't recognize me from two days ago when you broke my arm?"

" Two days ago?" Schumer's face suddenly became ashen as he turned his back to Virgil and starting muttering to himself, swaying side to side in a world of his own " He actually did it. I'd never thought he'd actually find out a way to use my equipment. Of all the stupid, asinine things I had to reject, just one more job - "

Wait. What? Virgil slowly stood up in confusion as Schumer continued to mutter in a quick furtive tone in front of him. Was this the same man that he'd faced? The man who'd broken his arm? The man who had his eye set on killing him. Stepping cautiously out towards him, Virgil jumped in front of Schumer's face, trying to get his attention.

" Hold up. Hold up. Who's he?"

" The man who stole my suit." Schumer whispered faintly. There was a pregnant pause of silence. He then glanced towards Virgil. " I know you're confused right now but I'll explain everything. I promise. "

Virgil just stayed stock, looking at Schumer as if he was a madman. He raised his hands upwards, veins glowing blue, towards Schumer.

Schumer signed and then, detached the gauntlet from his hand." I know you don't trust me, so, in return for finding out your secret identity, I'll suppose I'll return the favor."

The man Virgil once believed as a harmless chemistry teacher and a dangerous criminal gave a chuckle. " My name isn't Harry Schumer. My real name was Herman Schultz and I was the Shocker. The original Shocker."

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

But back to my discussion topic, where are you guys intending to land your characters?

@Lord Wraith

Virgil's gonna put himself on the map at the end of the season and ends up attracting the attention of a certain character that has been alluded to in my last posts and my sheet.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

In autobiographies, there's always one key event that shook your life forever. Some sort of epiphany, paradigm shift, eureka moment, life-changing moment.

For everyone in Dakota City, it was the Big Bang. The night I got my powers, the night I nearly killed my long time bully, Ivan Evans and the night that changed Dakota City forever.

You’ve seen documentaries made about it. Week long news reports. Government notices. Speeches. Youtube videos. Internet discussions. They tell all the same story.

Dakota City. Urban town in the middle of nowhere. High crime rate. A power struggle of gangs. High corruption. Zero accountability. A joke of a police department. Black Lightning leaves. Crime threatens to stamp out the city. New mayor begins to funding police forces. Police forces get supplied with new experimental gas grenades. Uses it on a crowd of unsuspecting kids embroiled in a gang fight. Paris Island becomes cordoned off. Humanitarian disaster. Mayors resigns. Influx of metahumans. Everyone asking: Will Dakota City become Gotham City 2.0?

The Big Bang in a nutshell.

The thing is most of the stories leave out the details.

Anyone who reads this in the future, you’re gonna get it from me straight about what exactly the Big Bang was.

What caused the Big Bang? Let’s start with what gave us Bang Babies our superpowers. We call it Bang Juice. It’s a gas. It’s colored yellow. Or green. Eyewitness reports vary from blue, orange and purple. They’re still trying to crack the code of exactly how the gas exactly works at S.T.A.R Labs. Everything’s still classified but from official news reports, the most talented minds in America have essentially told us that they’re still light-years away from deducing what elements this thing is made of. There’s so far only two recorded effects of what exactly happens when you come in contact with the gas.

The first one is that you die a slow death over the course of the next twelve hours or so. The cells in your body begin to fluctuate between wanting to live and wanting to die. They’re having trouble deciding whether to become cancer cells or undergoing apoptosis. So, you experience a constant cycle of cell growth and death until your nervous system gives out.

That was what happened to 154 people that day.

The second one is that by some freak chance, you gain superpowers. Like me and about 58 other kids on Paris Island that day.

Oh yeah, they did the head-count. Apparently, all of us that survived got knocked out for a while. They cordoned us off at Dakota General Hospital. Unfortunately for the doctors, the majority of the victims were disenfranchised teenage gangsters with large chips on their shoulders. What do you think happens when you hand them superpowers?

The first week for me was filled with all sorts of metahuman crime. They call it the Week of Terror. Anti-metahuman hysteria began to reach a peak. The cops were unable to handle the new threat due to lack of funding from the mayoral office. Then, when I came in the picture in my shittily-made costume, I became the janitor of Dakota City. In the 3rd week or so, metahuman crime reached a halt completely. Sure, there were the usual crooks and robbers but there wasn’t any metahumans. Some say that they turned tail and run. Some say they’re hiding underground in the sewers, waiting for the opportunity to strike. Others say that they’re hiding on Paris Island as we speak.

If I wasn’t there that night, who knows what would have happened?

The blame-game on who exactly caused the Big Bang is a bit of a headache to sort through. The police point it towards the mayors. The mayors point it towards the suppliers. The suppliers point it towards the manufacturers. The manufacturers point it towards the mayors. Last I heard, investigations reached a dead-stop somewhere in China and the only thing they’ve got is the name of a pizza delivery guy who was in contact with the individuals who made the damn thing.

Why did they do it? Let’s just say the conspiracy theories on that one are more weirder than the ones made about me. I’m pretty sure that the true reason is south of ‘Aliens Did It!’ and east of ‘God’s Wrath’.

One thing's definitely for sure.

Before the Big Bang, Dakota City was nothing. A blip on the map.

Now? Dakota City’s definitely something. It’s been noticed. More eyes are honing in on Dakota than the first time Black Lightning came on the scene. We’re still uncertain of what’s yet to come in the future for Dakota.

---

location: hemingway high school

time: 7:50 AM

The mobile phone rang, bouncing up and down rapidly on the wooden table. Virgil knew what was coming. His hand approached the phone with trepeditation, picking it up and looking at the caller number. He winced. He answered the call. He could hear a quick breath from the other side. Was it anger? Relief? He couldn’t tell.

“ Are you alright?”

“ I’m fine, Dad.” Virgil spoke, eyeing the clock. It was 30 minutes before the beginning of the first class. “ Honestly, I’m fine. I got a broken arm. The nurse fixed it. It’s just a one-time in-”

“ Don’t even finish that sentence.” The harshness of his voice made Virgil’s throat tighten. “ The principal told me about how you tried to stop him from calling me. Saying that, quote unquote, ‘ My dad has enough on his plate already, sir. I really don’t want to worry him. Can you please make sure this conversation is confidential?’.

Virgil could feel his father’s rage radiating through the speakers. At the end of his rant, there was an intermittent pause that petered down to a whisper.

“ I’m the one supposed to be looking out for you. For everyone in this city. If I can’t even take care of my own son, then, how am I supposed to look out for all of my tenants in the community center? What really happened that night, Virgil? You can tell me the truth.”

“ I-I” Virgil failed to find his words, stumbling to find them. Speaking with his dad stung more than his broken right forearm. He clamped down the desire to tell him. No matter how much it tore him apart from the inside and begged to be released.

“ It was just some silly bet that I did with Rich,” said Virgil.

“ Son, I don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to tell that I can smell bullshit through this phone.”

Virgil peered at the cracked yellow goggles resting on his table-side. He lifted it towards himself, thumbing the broken edges whilst he waited for his dad to continue responding.

“ We’ll call the truth a work in progress, then.” An electronic sign issued out with an air of finality. “I don’t expect an answer from you now but I expect an answer soon.”

“ I’ll try to, Dad. I’ll tell you by the end of this week.”

“ Promise?”

Virgil grasped the phone tighter.

“ Promise’s a promise.”

“ Anything else you want to tell me?”

“ Can you tell Sharon that I appreciate the cinnamon cookies she sent me?”

“ Can do. In fact, she’s cooking up another batch now. Maybe I should ask her to stop sending you those since I can’t ground you at home anymore.”

“ So, you can eat them all?,” said Virgil with a smile.

A few chuckles. “ Well, it’s good to know you didn’t lose your sense of humour.”

“ Night, Dad. Love you. ”

“ Night, son. Love you too. ”

---

Private Message from <ElectricBandit>:

<ElectricBandit>: gosh, modern history is boring. i didn’t know it was possible for Mr Heinrich to sound more dead than he is already. he’s halfway to zombieland already.

<Third_G3AR>: i’ll say
<Third_G3AR>: so,you wanna talk about it?
<Third_G3AR>: don’t give me the stink-eye. this is as private as u can get.
<Third_G3AR>: come on

<ElectricBandit>: okay okay

<Third_G3AR>: this period only has 40 minutes left.
<ElectricBandit>: i’ll talk, but i’m just worried about someone finding this out

<Third_G3AR>: dude, you don’t trust my skills? who won the school coding competition?who managed to pirate a copy of pockobeast: crimson and azure reloaded for you?
<Third_G3AR>: no one gonna infiltrate our server. trust me. i’ll wipe the chat logs after this.

<ElectricBandit>: fine fine
<ElectricBandit>: what do you want to talk about?

<Third_G3AR>: well, two things.
<Third_G3AR>: first of all, you.
<Third_G3AR>: but most importantly
<Third_G3AR>: crap, he’s looking at me. brb.

<ElectricBandit>: you there?
<Third_G3AR>: yep.
<Third_G3AR>: secondly, i did some research on the guy that left you like you were last night on my doorstep
<Third_G3AR>: check out these links, man.
<Third_G3AR>: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shocker
<Third_G3AR> https://thedailybugle.co.ny/local_events/1990/june/02/shock_at_queens_bank_as_shocker_pulls_heist_of_the_century

<ElectricBandit>: huh.
<ElectricBandit>: wait.
<ElectricBandit>: are you sure this is the same guy? cause from what I read, this guy does not operate like the guy I fought against.

<Third_G3AR>: what do you mean. he’s got the same name

<ElectricBandit>: “ successful string of robberies from 1985 to 1995.”
<ElectricBandit>: “operated in Manhattan, New York”.
<ElectricBandit>: “never successfully caught”.
<ElectricBandit>: “used a pair of sonic blasters”
<ElectricBandit>: “never killed anyone” “infamous for never engaging in conflict with police”.
<ElectricBandit>: why would a carmen-sandiego robber switch to the life of a contract mercenary?

<Third_G3AR>: dude
<Third_G3AR>: it’s all about that money

<ElectricBandit>: even so, why would the guy switch up his game? this is not the same guy.
<ElectricBandit>: “Eyewitness reports state that the Shocker offered his stolen money to recompensate for a young child’s ice-cream that he accidentally knocked to the ground while escaping from the scene of crime”
<ElectricBandit>: see? ^

<Third_G3AR>: whatever
<Third_G3AR>: we need to talk about you now.
<Third_G3AR>: what are you going to do about him? the shocker?

<ElectricBandit>: i’m gonna catch him.

<Third_G3AR>: You wanna still go after the dude that nearly killed you?

<ElectricBandit>: Nearly injured me. Besides, 1 month without an injury is a track record

<Third_G3AR>: weren’t you mumbling this morning about how your powers weren’t working? you know. the thing that keeps you getting killed?

<ElectricBandit>: they’re just acting up.

<Third_G3AR>: he broke your fucking arm.
<Third_G3AR>: i watched you s
<Third_G3AR>: i watched stumble into the dorm with your swiss cheese arm
<Third_G3AR>: your googled eye ass still making jokes
<Third_G3AR>: the nurse managed to stabilise you in time.
<Third_G3AR>: there was one point where I didn’t even know whether or not you were alive still.
<Third_G3AR>: all i’m saying is
<Third_G3AR>: this shit affects me, man. i’m your friend.

<ElectricBandit>: i’m still going after him.

<Third_G3AR>: look
<Third_G3AR>: maybe this is a sign to stop
<Third_G3AR>: you’re gonna end up like Black Lightning at this rate

<Third_G3AR>: dude, are you the one flickering the lights right now?

<ElectricBandit>: people depend on me.

<Third_G3AR>: people depend on the cops. Not my best friend

<ElectricBandit>: if you wont help me
<ElectricBandit>: then just stay out of my way
<ElectricBandit>: i’m doing this with or without you

<Third_G3AR>: eh, fuck it.
<Third_G3AR>: let’s do it together
<Third_G3AR>: i’ll keep your dumb ass from getting killed.

<ElectricBandit>: wow
<ElectricBandit>: i didn’t actually think this was going to work.
<ElectricBandit>: thanks, man
<ElectricBandit>: but in all seriousness, you can back out of this if you want to.

<Third_G3AR>: and miss the chance to work with Dakota’s most famous superhero?
<Third_G3AR>: not for my life.

<ElectricBandit>: well, welcome then.

<Third_G3AR>: soooooooo
<Third_G3AR>: am I your sidekick now?
<Third_G3AR>: what’s my superhero name gonna be?

<ElectricBandit>: let’s figure this out after mr heinrich stops asking me for the answer

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

<Snipped quote by Lord Wraith>

Exciting to hear, and that seem fair. Gotham City does seem to be a bit crowded.

However I'll only agree to move Mari to Dakota city if I get to write with @The Bork Lazer. ;)

I've really enjoyed their posts so far and I'm curious to to see what happens with the influx of "Bang Babies" in Dakota City.

@Moskau Spieluhr

Well, no pressure.

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖

Dammit. You know what's a missed opportunity with that Blackbeard nickname?

Cyberpunk pirates.

Absolute Comics - Season Two: The Monster Within

If I ever wrote a Dummy's Guide on how to become a teenage superhero, the first lesson would be to remember that you aren’t the first one. Just because you’re stronger than a locomotive or faster than a speeding bullet doesn’t mean that you’re the biggest fish in the pond. No, you’re a fish in an ocean and it’s important to remember that the ocean has been longer around than you have.

Let me explain.

Ever since I came on the scene, “ Lightning strikes the same place twice” has become a local saying in Dakota City. Non-Dakotans often mistake the context of the phrase for something else entirely.

That also means I wasn’t the first black electric superhero in Dakota City. Yeah, I know. Shocking, right?

“ See the lightning, feel the thunder.”

That was Black Lightning’s catch-phrase back in the day.

Every local has a different story or anecdote to say about him. How he once saved their pet bird from being electrocuted. How he threw down bolts of lightning like Zeus towards joy-riding robbers. How he once busted a drug ring by himself like a one-man army. I can say that about 75% of them are bullshit and 25% of them have a grain of truth in them. One thing was for certain, though. Black Lightning was so effective that he essentially replaced Dakota’s corrupt police force in protecting the city.

Then, out of nowhere, he disappeared. One of the problems about finding out where superheroes disappeared to is that you don’t know their real identity. Everyone knows what happened after that. Dakota City soon became the crime infested hell-hole that everyone in the Mid-East is talking about. Gangs and syndicates started moving in, some returning and some new, into the free real estate that Black Lightning accidentally provided for them.

Then, the Big Bang came in and suddenly, I’m part of the equation that makes up Dakota City. Just like Black Lightning once was.

Living in the shadow of Black Lightning ain’t a pretty thing. Trust me. It gets annoying when people like to point out similarities between him and me like a game of Spot the Difference. It gets worse when you have to hear the endless amount of theories about connections between me and Black Lightning.

An alien imposter?

A robotic impersonator?

A younger clone?

Time-travel?

His son?

Trust me, I would vastly prefer any bat-shit insane theory over the last one I mentioned.

Because, one nut-job just had to be right.

I am his son.

---

location: Harold's Hardware

time: 4:00 PM

The moment he crashed through the front entrance of Harold’s Hardware was the moment that Virgil realised he was totally out of his depth. Virgil rested in the middle of a wrecked shelf of bathroom appliances, already feeling wooden splinters crawling into his skin. A hand swam into the midst of his blurry vision, a voice speaking out towards him.

“ Hey, do you need a hand?”

Virgil took the hand, calloused fingers locking around soft ones. He grasped it strongly. Bit by bit, he was assisted into standing normally by the stranger who’d helped him. “ A few blinks transformed the blurry brown blotch into the face of a auburn-haired young woman. A spread of freckles covered her cheeks and her frizzy hair shrouded her head like a lion’s mane. Virgil could have sworn that he saw her from somewhere before. Virgil rubbed his face, feeling the trickle of blood leaking between his hands.

The woman looked down towards his hands, alarmed. “ Is that supposed to be happening?”

The veins within his hands were glowing and bulging, errant cobwebs of static discharging erratically from his palms. He checked his inner stores for a moment. Slivers. He bet that if he even tried to cast out a bolt of electricity, sparks would only fly out. Still, it was more than he had previously 20 minutes ago. Looked like playing tag had been useful after all. The Shocker was nowhere to be seen. For now. He shook his head as a reply and was on the beginnings of thanking the girl -

Virgil was then assailed immediately by a crowd of curious customers who barraged him with questions.

“ Oh my god! It’s Static! Can you - ”

“ Could I please get a selfie with you? The 3 of - ”

“ Hey! Hey! You broke my fucking entrance, Static! I’m not paying for th-”

“ Do superheroes get discounts?”

(To be fair, the last one was actually an valid question.)

There was a loud scream as out of the corner of his eyes, Virgil saw something blurring towards him at untold speeds. He swerved to the left as a parking toll gutted through several shelves like a kebab stick, items being flung everywhere haphazardly. The screaming and shouting only added to the chaos. The Shocker was now punching whatever he could find on the street towards him. The sheer momentum that was packed in his gauntlets could transform the most ordinary of objects into deadly projectiles. Virgil’s eyes widened as he saw the Shocker begin to approach an abandoned concrete truck resting near Harold’s shop. The gears began to crunch in his mind as the rubber suited robber’s plan was obvious as daylight.

“ Everyone, get out now!” He shouted towards the crowd of customers as they began to disperse and run out the exits. He managed to catch a glimpse of the girl who helped him. Never even got her name. Virgil’s eardrums burst with the sound of a highway collision as he turned his head towards the sight of a 10-wheeler slamming into Harold’s front entrance and lodging itself between the brick walls like a dam. The ceiling of fluorescent lighting shivered, dimming and brightening in random patterns. A second punch from the Shocker’s fists burst apart the chassis of the 10-wheeler in half, metal shrapnel slicing apart and sticking themselves in the walls. The Shocker strode through the bisected vehicle. Confident. Assured. Luckily, the store was large enough for Virgil to run away in.

“ What’s the matter, Lightning Junior?,” Shocker taunted.“ Out of juice? We all thought you were the living reincarnation of the Energizer Bunny from the way you’ve been acting last month.”

He didn’t know how he’d managed to muster the energy to move even a single muscle or run at this point. Whether it was a benefit of being a Bang Baby or adrenaline, Virgil couldn’t care less as he hid behind a rack of wrenches. Virgil shouted out, his voice echoing through the inner confines of the ruined store.

“ Who’s we?”

“ Oh, some associates of mine. You should be less worried about them and more about you. We were all fine and dandy with your little cops and robbers routine but you’ve been growing bolder. Bigger. We can’t have another Black Lightning: Volume 2 in Dakota City. Too bad copycats often follow the way of their predecessors.”

“ What? You think that I’ll disappear like he did? ” Virgil eyed the escape exit as he began to slowly cross towards him, making sure each of his steps was as silent as possible.

“ No. Which is why I’m here to teach you what it means to be a hero.”

“ Quite an unorthodox teaching style. Smashing walls apart. Were you popular with the kids? ”

“ It did. Made them quiet enough.”

“ For how long?”

“ Enough that they didn’t pipe up in class anymore. Like you’re currently doing right now.”

He was almost the edge of the exit entrance before a whine of circuitry and air-powered vacuums breached the tension.

“Gotcha.”

Virgil suddenly found himself in the position of being off his feet again, a shelving unit slamming painfully into his right side. Something cracked as he was flung into the back of a counter. Virgil groggily stood up to meet the searing heat of agony. It was coming from his left forearm. He hung it out to take a look at it, gritting at the knives of pain that were biting into his elbow. His arm was crooked at the wrong angle, like a child twisting back the arms of a doll. The silhouette of the Shocker came into view, his fingers tapping the underside of his masked chin.

“ Hmph, not symmetrical enough. Maybe, I should break your other arm to balance it all out?”

Virgil then looked upwards at the lights, glaring bright down towards him. The lights. Well, it was a good a chance as any. A bottle of clear solution was next to him. Fortified rubbing alcohol. 100 proof. An orange triangle paper label was printed onto the side. Flammable. An idea began to form in his head. A suicidal one but an idea, nonetheless. He glared towards the Shocker as he began to raise another fist.

“ Thanks for the offer but my insurance doesn’t cover being injured by a punch-happy pineapple.” Virgil grabbed the bottle to the side of him and threw it. A childhood of playing baseball had directed it directly towards the Shocker’s face. It shattered apart on contact. The punch stopped mid-flight. None of the glass shards had cut him but the danger of the bottle was in the contents rather than in the container. He then summoned the last reserves of electromagnetic energy circulating into his body into a single high-current bolt towards the lights. An influx of electricity entered the lighting circuitry of the store, resistors melting apart and circuit-breakers activating as the store was enveloped in a shroud of darkness.

“ Do you know how much the laundry bill is going to be for this costume?” The Shocker stared around in the darkness to look for him, disoriented by the sudden change in lighting. “I guess this makes it more- “

Virgil leveled his right hand towards him, eyes closed, aiming towards his body. A single jolt of electricity leapt from the tip of his index finger towards the Shocker’s suit. He was intending on shocking him but chemistry taught him that alcohol was the most volatile out of all organic molecules. A pool of bright blue flame spread from the point of contact, the alcohol in the soaked suit being lit on fire. “ GAH, YOU SON OF A-, ” The Shocker was currently flailing around, his arm struggling to pry the coat of fire off him but the licks of flame just went through his gloved fingers. Being stuffed in a full-body suit was sweat-inducing but being stuffed in that suit while on fire at the same time? It was like being cooked inside an oven. The Shocker stumbled and ran out in a panic, looking for a way to extinguish himself.

Virgil then ran.

---

location: hemingway high school

time: 12:30 AM

His knuckles rapped several knocks on the room of his dorm room. Virgil hoped that Richie would answer soon, his shattered arm sending pain shooting down his spine with every second wasted. A yawn came out from behind the door before it whined open. Richie’s face blearily blinked, eyes half-lidded as he rubbed his left optic with his fist.

“ Look, V, I’m letting you in after curfew for the last time, so, don’t whine for weeks on end about being caught by security - “

Rich put his glasses on, his tired face immediately shifting into a face of horror.

“ V? Your arm! It’s - what happened to you?”

“ Hey, Rich. Bad time to call a sick day tomorrow?”

Virgil then coughed out, speckles of blood dropping onto the dorm floor. He stumbled forth, his broken arm tethering and tearing him apart. He felt Richie’s hand catch him by the shoulders, distraught voice yelling out, as his vision clouded over with only one remaining thought in his mind.

You lost

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖

On slightly unrelated news........



HYPE.

𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖

Atm, I’m just waiting for Prizrak to post her post.