Wasted Quirk

Chapter 13

            My thoughts rebounded back to my present situation with the excruciating pain that tore through my right knee. I realized that the most recent shot I'd heard found its target, and I was instantly incapacitated.

I couldn't help it. My screams ricocheted off the barren concrete and back to my ears. I couldn't tolerate trying to pull myself up to loosen the rope. I couldn't even stand just letting myself hang there. The pain was unbelievable.

As my screams died down, I began to register the eerie 'click' of dress shoes. I hadn't even spent ten minutes with this guy and already that sound made me shake. How could he have managed such an effect on me?

Suddenly the taut rope went slack, dropping me back on the floor. Frustrated, it occurred to me that I had spent more time on the ground than I had on my own damn feet and that frustration rivaled the pain, now shooting up and down my leg from the gunshot wound in my knee. Oh, right. And now my back. I had been dropped from about ten feet. I was fortunate to have twisted myself enough to not land on my head.

"What... the... hell..." I said, gasping for air. I wasn't sure how many more hits my lungs could take before they ruptured.

Of course, things got worse, when suddenly this guy was on top of me. With a knee on my chest, a foot digging into my injured knee, and a hand gripping my jaw, it was all I could do to not wish for death right then and there. How was it, in a matter of minutes, this guy was able to put me through physical, psychological, and emotional torture all at the same damn time?

"A coward, huh?" He whispered, his tone going from slightly amused to deadly. "Even your insults are weak."

I had an opening. It would have been simple to hook my good leg around the crook of his knee, grab his arm, and roll him onto his back. Painful, but possible. Even a blast to his face could get me results. He couldn't deflect that, could he? The only thing keeping me from doing anything, though, was not knowing the location of his gun. And the small fact that his sudden energy shift had me completely frozen in place.

I mentally slapped myself. You gotta get out of this! Get your shit together! I slowed my breathing and resigned myself to being pinned to the ground. I did everything I could to disassociate from the pain in my knee and focus on the enemy, knowing that my reckless and desperate mistakes had gotten me here. If I had relaxed and slowed down a bit, I could have had this guy by now. I just needed more patience and a clearer mind. Better late than never.

"What do you want?" I said, trying to make good use of the situation. I needed answers. "This chase you've had us on for months has brought up a ton of questions, but that's the one I want answered the most. The others can wait."

I was met with silence. Calm, steady breathing filled the silence instead as he considered my question. I wish I could see his face. The most I could discern from the shadowed outline was his shitty hair. For some reason, not being able to see got me frustrated all over again.

"Are you after me?" I asked, trying to prod some conversation at least. "You set me up pretty good. I'm starting to feel like I've got a target painted on my back—"

"Don't be so vain," he said. There was an edge to the deadliness of his voice now. Had I hit a nerve?

"Why not?" I poked. "Doesn't look like you had this much fun with Le Million before offing him. Why am I so special?"

Silence again.

"Ground Zero!"

The piece in my ear buzzed with life as my team restored communication. My heart jumped with pride. None of these guys were stupid but I had been a bit worried about their ability to make progress in my direction without me or Le Million there to guide 'em.

"Squad B successfully retrieved the three victims! They're unconscious but otherwise appear unharmed. Half their squad has joined up with ours and we're headed your way now!"

Part of me wanted to tell them to stay away. We grossly underestimated this guy. I was never convinced that a villain could ever work alone. No single person was so good that they could see every angle. But I had very recently been reminded that I couldn't do much, if anything, without my own team. So I didn't say anything.

"I don't plan on killing you," he said, breaking the silence. "I'm not planning on killing anybody. Your buddy over there was the exception, but only because I made a promise. Killing people was never my intention."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Killing people was never his intention? How many people died because of him and his supposed experiments? And who makes a promise to murder someone in cold blood?

"You gotta be kidding me," I whispered. The outline of his head gently shook side to side, signaling that he was completely serious.

"You taught me that killing people was a sign of weakness," he explained. "You march around with your threats and fake confidence, talking about how you're going to kill all your enemies. You've fooled a lot of people into thinking you're strong, but I know better. It's just a face. A mask you use to hide just how terrified you are of failure. You've beaten a lot of villains, but not with your strength. Your primary tactic is to make them feel more fear than you do, to make them believe they're weaker than you are. And in my opinion, that makes you more of a coward than anyone."

I wanted to be mad. I wanted to be indignant. I wanted to demand that he didn't know anything about me. And yet, he spoke to my greatest insecurities. How? How did he know all of this? Had he been watching me longer than I had initially realized?

"You... you don't know—" I weakly choked.

"What?" he scoffed. "I don't know you? It was funny watching you trap yourself in denial, but now it's just annoying. Are you really so dense? What lies have you been feeding yourself to make you feel better?"

He was almost shouting now. I could feel his anger and frustration brimming, about to spill over the edge. But I didn't want that to happen. Normally, I would use a villain's unbridled emotions against them. That was usually when they lost control and made mistakes. But not this time. I was certain at this point that if he lost his cool, his 'intentions' to not kill people would shift.

I could hear several pairs of feet running in our direction. My team was coming, with no clue as to what they were jumping into. What should I do? How do I lead them? At this point, I didn't care about capturing this guy. I just wanted to get my team out of here.

Moments before they sprinted into the room, I could feel the weight disappear from my chest and the pressure shift on my knee, making me screw up my face in pain. I paused for a moment to brace myself, then rolled onto my right side to try and stand. I still had one good leg, didn't I? But as I started to push myself up, the barrel of a gun was in my face.

"I never said you could move," the villain muttered. Without saying a word, I slowly shifted myself to a sitting position with my back against one of the consoles. I raised my hands in surrender.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, just let me give the order for them to leave."

His arms dropped to his sides in annoyed disappointment. Though his voice was too soft for me to hear clearly, I thought I heard him mutter "so weak...". The first few of tonight's team entered the control room in that moment, masking anything else he may have said.

"Ground Zero!" I heard one of them yell.

"Get away from him, villain!" shouted another.

I watched as he slowly set the gun on the nearest console and put his hands in the air. That surprised us all. Was he seriously going to surrender? Was the size of our group enough to intimidate him?

The rest of Squad A and those from Squad B that came with them filed into the room, all aiming various support items in this guy's direction. But he stood completely still. My eyes had adjusted to the low lighting of the room, making his movements easier to detect but his face was still impossible to read. That said, I could almost feel the demeaning smirk spread across his face.