Scott Mason: Gay Superhero (boyxboy)

Chapter 6

"So what happened to the nice leather jacket?" Will asked, noticing it's absence before biology. I didn't respond. I just smiled stupidly at him and looked away, which frustrated him.
In all truthfulness, it was gone this morning, which meant that it was probably taken back by Pitch. The teacher was rambling on about cell division review and the likes, while I myself took a keen interest in the boy sitting not too far away.
I didn't know if Adam was Pitch or not. He looked like him physically, but barring the hair color, the similarities ended there. Pitch spoke loud and stupidly; Adam soft and intelligent.
Now unless Adam carried around a squirt gun filled with hair dye, the odds were against me. Adam just couldn't be Pitch Black. Maybe he had a long-lost twin brother or something.
"Hey, are you ready for the assembly today?"
I blinked. "Assembly?"
"Yeah, something about drugs and alchol, you know, the normal stuff."
"I didn't know that I had to be prepared." I conceded. Will chuckled. "Maybe I need to bring a batch of heroin or something, do you have any on you?"
"I'm sorry, man," he drawled sarcastically, "I'm all out."
"What a shame you are to me," I hissed, making him giggle. We stopped talking, and for the rest of the class I slept.
I was so tired

|~~~~~~~~~~~~|

"I'm sure you all know why you're here today," the principal, Mr. Silva, said to the congregation of students gathered in the auditorium. They were all chatting and settling into their seats.
"Is this seat taken?" Someone motioned to my backpack in the seat next to me. I looked down at the hand and then up at Adam.
"No." I said simply, picking up the backpack and dropping it in Will's lap while maintaining eye contact. Will huffed out a breath, thirty pounds of textbook hitting his thighs and stomach. "You can sit here."
"Thank you," he said, smiling softly. He settled into the seat next to me, shifting slightly on his rear and slouching down.
Adam glanced at me once more. I turned my head to the principal while he continued to talk.
"Bleh blea blah, blea blee blea bloo blah," my mind processed the words. Adam was sitting next to me. Yum. "Blah bloo blea blah BLAH!"
I liked it when he was sitting next to me.
An hour later, I was chilling on the grass ditching gym. What isn't seen can't hurt anyone, my dad used to say.
I was out in a random park, listening to preschoolers that were already out of school scream and shout as they were pushed on the swings by their parents. The sun dimly pushed through the clouds, warming up the trees and the grass, caressing my skin and whispering promises of leaving summer for another day. Leaves fluttered down with wispy scraping sounds, landing all around me. This was my type of thing.
The leaves around me crunched as something walked by. I listened closely, the crunching crisp and clear and right next to my ear as the thing sat down next to me.
I peeked out of the side of my eye on a sitting Adam. I sit up quickly, leaning slightly away from him.
"What are you doing?" I asked cautiously, moving away from him. He scooted closer.
"I followed you," he said simply, leaning in and kissing me. Just like that. He was kissing me. My mind and thought process stopped and stuttered like an old car in cold weather, trying to turn on and work, but not doing so well at accomplishing the task. I tried to pull away, my mind warring with my body. He leaned forword, pushing my body down and laying down on top of me.
I jolted awake, staring up at my dark ceiling, still feeling Adam's weight.
"I knew it was too quick to be true." I covered my face with my hands.

|~~~~~~~~~~~~~|

"So," Will started, "What are the odds that you will go up to Sadey Hopkins and say your worst pickup line?" We were both sitting at the back of the bus on the way home, playing the stupidest game in the world. The whole bus was filled with the day's chatter, people switching seats to tell different things to different people, contrary to Arnold's requests to pick a seat and keep that seat.
"Umm..." I thought for a moment, "Between one and ten."
"O.K. then," he counted up from one to three.
"Seven," we both said simultaneously.
"Crap," I whispered, looking forward at the most popular girl in our grade. I groaned, getting up slowly and walking up the few seats to where she was sitting. I looked back at Will pleadingly, but he shook his head. We had both said the same number, so I had to commit the act.
I turned back around to Sadie, my face flushing when I thought about all the horrific pickup lines that I could say. Her friends noticed me standing there, and the whole group quieted down and stared at me, including Sadie.
Oh god, was I seriously doing this?
"Have you ever seen a two-incher?" I asked weakly, looking at the terrified expressions of each and every girl in that group. I bowed my head down, flipping around and walking quickly over to Will, pushing him farther into the seat and sitting down.
"What did you say?" Will asked.
"Have you ever seen a two incher," I replied softly.
"Gross," he deadpanned, sitting up straight. "You could have come up with a worse one."
"But you said worst!"
"I meant worst. That wasn't your worst."
I sat in shame for the rest of the bus ride, silent and contemplating the meaning of life and why I was here. Where was I going? What was I meant to do? Why did Miley Cyrus twerk?
Inspirational thought-provoking questions like that.
Not really. I just thought about what else I could have said besides 'Have you ever seen a two-incher?'
The bus creaked to a stop, Arnold talking loudly into the speaker. "Have a good day!" Over and over again.
"You too," I replied kindly to him, but didn't put a lot of effort into the words; he was practically deaf anyways.
Will trolled down the stairs after me, holding his hoodie in his hand. He flapped his arms like a bird, being the usual idiot that he was. He was probably trying to air out his armpits or something. "Hey, do you wanna hang out at my house today?" He asked.
I looked up the road at the apartment complex where my mom probably was. The place was bright and dull at the same time. "Sure," I replied, turning my back on the complex. The hill was wet, and the sidewalk was nearly frozen solid. I slid down carelessly, holding my hands out from my sides to keep my balance.
"Call of Duty?" I called behind me, sliding smoothly to a stop.
"I like Halo better. Want to play that instead?" He finally reached the bottom of the hill when he answered.
"Sure."
It was nearly dark when we reached his house, a solemn, two-story greenhouse with old-fashioned blue shutters. The front lawn was a pleasant pale green, which was perfectly manicured and kept and never done by Will or his parents. They hired people.
When we got into the house, he automatically turned on the TV to switch the inputs
"Hey Will, is that you?" Will's younger brother called from upstairs. Will's brother was named Eric, and he was a freshman in high school. He was just a smaller, bulkier version of Will, but with short brown hair.
"Yeah!" Will replied as the TV warmed up.
"Can you come to help me with something?"
Will dropped the remote, jogging to the stairs and clomping up them noisily. I picked up the remote, ready to change the channel when the headline for the news caught my eye. I turned the volume up and listened to Super-Fine.
"Two vials of BloodSpike were stolen from the Seymore Testing Facility just outside of town." A small square next to his head faded in, showing two vials that represented, well, the two vials of stolen BloodSpike. "The police are investigating the crime scene right now, and many of the city's top detectives are trying to figure out the potential cause for such a thing." I flipped the input, dropping the remote onto the couch and grabbing a controller. I guess I know what I'm doing tonight, I thought.
When Will finally came down from helping his brother with Algebra, which he probably failed at, we played some mean Halo, both against each other and also on the same team. In the middle of a campaign, Will asked, "So I see that you have a crush on Adam?" Although, it seemed more of a statement than a question.
I didn't respond. I didn't even acknowledge the statement.
The pause menu opened in the middle of me reloading my incineration cannon. I sighed, clicking the start button and resumed the game. Just as fast as that happened, Will's pause menu showed up on the screen. I sighed heavily, setting down the controller between my crossed legs.
Will sat on the other side of the couch, black controller in hand, staring at me blankly. He had his long legs splayed out, lazy and unimportant to him.
I held out my hands in a I-don't-get-it gesture. "What?" The exasperated tone was evident in my voice.
"You like him," Will stated.
I kept my look. "Who?" Was it really that evident? I didn't like Adam that much, only for, like, five weeks have I known him.
"Adam," Will spelled out slowly. "A-D-A-M."
"I know who he is," I retorted ungratefully. "And I don't like him like that."
Will frowned and sniffed animatedly. "Do you smell that?" He asked, sniffing around at the air. I stared at him, knowing this small catchphrase.
"No."
"Bullshit. I smell bullshit." Will deadpanned. "Dude," Will started before I could say another word, "I was totally joking with you at the burger joint, but at the assembly today you crushed me with your gigantor backpack so he could sit next to you. You drooled at him the entire time."
"I was drooling at him?" I asked self-consciously, putting my fingers up to my mouth. Will stared pointedly at me, and I decided to change the subject.
"You're just jealous," I puffed out, getting a good look at his indignant face.
"No," he denied, "I'm just pointing out that you have a major crush on Mr. Bedhead."
I grabbed the controller and resumed the game, turning away from him. "Don't call him that."
"Whatever you say, loverboy." He muttered, pressing a button on the controller and blasting me twelve feet into the air.
"Game over," the video game said, "Player one victor." 1300 to 300.
Will won again.
Pretty soon after that, after the snacking on a few sandwiches, after helping Will's younger brother with his Algebra homework, and after gossiping, I had to go home. My mom was probably gone already. "See you tomorrow," Will saluted. I grinned and returned the gesture.
"Ditto." I stepped out the door, closing it behind me. Immediately I was assaulted by questions.
"Was it fun? What did you do? Haha, I'm just kidding I heard everything you guys were talking about since you helped his brother with his Algebra. How was your day? Was it fun? Did you watch the news? Dude, what do you think about-" I walked past Pitch and right into Will's front yard.
"Blah blah blah," I said, traveling out into the street to get to the sidewalk on the other side, hoping that the publicity would keep him gone for a while. Yes, I did watch the news. There was no doubt in my mind that he wanted us to go inspect the crime scene as partners. I had to get there before him. Wherever the Seymore Testing Facility was, though.
I walked alone in silence, grateful that Pitch didn't want that much public exposure right now. When I arrived at home, I cautiously peeked into my house, taking a big, long, deep breath through my nose. I didn't smell smoke. Or bullshit.
I opened the door all the way and slung my backpack onto the floor, immediately going for my computer on my desk. After I had logged in, I opened Internet Explorer and searched Seymore Testing Facility.
21st High Street, Denver, CO, I noted in my head. I shut my laptop and turned to my bed, crouching down and pulling out my suit. It hadn't been used for a bit, so it kinda smelled funny.
A few squirts of Febreez later, along with fitting inside of the suit, I was ready. I took a deep breath in, smelling only pleasant summer breeze, the signature smell of the spray. I looked down at the chest of my suit, seeing spots of Febreez showing. Maybe I sprayed a bit too much.
I nonchalantly squatted, closing my eyes and visualizing where the facility would be. After a second, I tapped my fingers against the light socket on the wall next to me and disappeared with a pop.
I found myself back in my room. There was my nightstand, there was my bed, my laptop, my desk. There was everything. I frowned. Reaching out with my mind, I could sense that all the electricity in the house worked just fine. I tried again, tapping the light socket and disappearing with another pop. Once again, I ended up in my room. Maybe the electricity was out wherever I was traveling.
I thought about where the next block would be and tapped the light socket.
Immediately, I appeared on the street corner on the other side of town. There was nobody around on the side street that I had chosen; all the traffic was on the main streets that lead to the freeway. I looked around and saw a large, tall tower. It was the Seymore Testing Facility. At the very top, a large, big steeple. It was the largest building in town.
"I always wondered what that building was for," I said softly to myself. I walked across the street at the lightless building, noticing that not even the stoplight on the same block was working.
The front doors of the building were taped off with yellow police tape. I stopped for a minute, surveying the damage. All of the glass on all of the doors were blown outwards, which meant that the person who blew it out was on the inside. This might have been the perpetrator's exit instead of the entrance. I stepped out away from the building, peeking out into the deserted road. The whole block was blocked off also.
I strolled out into the middle of the road, looking up at the building. On this side, there was nothing, on another side, however, on the 8th floor, there was a broken window. This had a giant plastic bag covering the window as a temporary replacement for the glass.
I crouched low and jumped as high as I could into the air, willing the familiar buzzing to enter my body. The asphalt below me developed a crack as I stopped slowly and hovered there. Finally, I had reached the point where the bonds of gravity disappeared and snapped like a rubber band. I cruised leisurely up in the air, the street lights flicking on from the deepening darkness.
I reached the trash bag-covered door and thought for a minute. I hovered there with my arm propped up against my chest and my fist holding my chin in a thoughtful expression. My silver cape gyrated feebly in the breeze, making a sound that sounded just like a flag flapping in the breeze.
They can put a new trash bag on, I decided as I reached my hand forward and split the bag with a thin tendril of blue energy. The opening was just as big as I was tall. I curiously leaned forward, making my whole self move closer to the garbage bag. I pulled the two sides of the bag apart, looking into the dimly lit laboratory.
I pulled myself through the bag, getting up to a normal standing position and dropping to the floor with a small thump. There were white islands of rectangular tables with electronics stacked all over them. There were computers, laptops, monitors, and wires splayed neatly all over the tops of them. I walked slowly between the monitors, where a small hand-sized yellow stand labeled with a number sat by every object.
This was the crime scene evidence.
I looked closely at every single piece of evidence, and an idea popped into my mind. I looked at a laptop on one of the islands, walking over and popping it open. The screen sat there, completely missing. Well then. I closed the lid and scanned across the room for some more laptops. There was another one, only a few islands away. I walked over and flipped the top open, but this laptop had over half of the keyboard missing. I checked all the other laptops, but they had parts missing to them as well. I looked around again and did a double-take. There were enough basic components to put together a computer system here.
I carelessly picked up an undamaged monitor off of one island, the actual computer part of the computer (like, the box thing that would sit below a desk) off of another, and a messed-up keyboard with a perfectly undamaged mouse and set them all on the floor gently.
I pieced together the system to make a desktop computer and fisted the two power plugs together in my hand. Right in front of me, as I sat there criss-cross on the floor, the monitor blinked to life. A black screen with green lettering appeared. I typed in a few letters and pressed enter, just to see what would happen. The screen went black and then showed the normal desktop screen. I kept the power chords in my hands, keeping up the energy supply. A few files popped up on the screen. I stared at them curiously.
After a few minutes of searching, I found nothing. I set all the parts back, disappointed by the lack of information on the computer. Why I thought, would someone want BloodSpike? What's so important about it? I left the computer on the ground and got up.
I kept walking past rows and rows of island-tables, passing metal doors every few yards. There was a silence that rested heavily on the place, dark and oppressing. There was little light provided by the moon, making overbearing silver and black figures seem like they were dancing as I walked by the tables.
I stopped in front of a door that looked different compared to all the others. This door was wooden. I lightly gripped the handle and turned, feeling the door give way to my push.
Inside the room it was dark; the room and no windows, and just like the rest of the building, the electricity was shut off. I puffed out a short, heavy breath and blinked the spots from my eyes when the flow of electricity around my hands got too bright. I spread my arms out, lighting up as much of the room as possible. It was an office.
On either side of the room, there was a deep red bookcase, both full of official-looking books and expensive-looking trinkets that were cool to look at. The floor was wooden, and near the center of the room, there was a carpet that took up just about a quarter of the room altogether. There was an old-fashioned big globe sitting in the corner of the room; it was a bronze monstrosity.
Right in the middle of the room was a large desk with a large leather-brown chair. I padded forward, casting light down onto the desk. The desk itself was devoid of any trinkets. It was covered with papers and pens and notes of all kinds. Complicated math problems dominated one paper while some long scientific word dominated nearly two full lines on another.
I let one hand keep the electricity as I blocked off the flow to the other hand, allowing me to shuffle around the papers. I looked around, searching for anything that was related to BloodSpike. I shuffled some more and felt something hard brush the side of my fingers. I pushed a bunch of papers off of it and smiled. A laptop. A fully functional laptop, by the looks of the green blinking light on the front.
I extinguished my light to pick up the laptop. I headed towards the moonlight that spilled through the door—I could return the laptop later. I softly closed the door behind me, only leaving it when I heard the faint click of the metal sliding in. I turned around, surveying the scene. Everything looked normal.
My legs made no sound as I briskly walked down towards the flapping window. The wind started to pick up, and as I looked through the intact windows, I saw a flash of lightning.
As the flash illuminated the sky, it also illuminated everything around me. In specifics, a tall, white figure off to my right flickered into view and then disappeared along with the lightning.
I stopped as the thunder rumbled through the building. There was nothing that I saw, as I squinted my eyes to stare at the spot where I thought I saw the figure, that suggested anything was there, but it was too dark to see anyways. Finally, lightning flashed again.
I jumped a little as the figure appeared again, standing right where I was staring. I heard a deep, rumbling laugh. I gripped the laptop tighter to my chest, putting one foot forward in confidence.
"Hello?" I asked tentatively to the figure. My heart rate sped up slightly when there was no answer. There was only silence that answered back. The quiet seemed to roar in my ears like a lion. I asked again, "Hello?"
"Hello," the figure responded immediately in a beautiful, melodious, deep voice. I frowned.
"Who are you?" I asked, and as lightning flashed again, I realized that the figure was closer to me. I tried to will up some light, something, to find out where the person was, but I could see nothing. There was no light. My hand didn't buzz or crackle with energy.
My palms started to sweat a tiny bit. I even resorted to snapping my fingers together to make a spark, but nothing happened. It was like I was caught in the rain.
Which is exactly what patted down on the windows just now. The lightning struck again, and the thunder came right afterward. In soft, quick runs like rivers, the water built up and poured down the windows in quick tendrils. The figure was closer. "What do you want?" I shuffled toward the window. Maybe I could make it across the street before the water took everything, and then I could run away.
"Your little laptop there." The voice said.
Lightning flashed.
The figure was pointing.
Thunder rolled.
"I need some information."
"No," I said simply. I felt the laptop tug in my grasp like invisible hands were gripping it, but I hugged it even tighter to my chest.
I heard a small grunt, and then the sound of what I could only compare to hundreds and thousands of dice and keyboard keys clicking together. I heard the scraping of metal. In the dim light, I saw the outline of a large figure start to form and groan together. It was forming out of the broken technology all around.
I looked down at my hands, snapping them again. No energy. Surrounded by technology.
Blanch.
I turned to run, coming face-to-face with Pitch.
"Duck," he said quickly. I obliged without hesitation, falling to my knees and rolling out of the way as searing, white heat burned above me. I didn't dare move; I did not want to lose my head.
The sound of burning and popping plastic reached my ears. The white fire stopped almost as soon as it began. I opened my eyes quickly, no more large silhouette looming in the middle of the room.
I acted on instinct, scrambling to my feet and running towards the broken window.
"Look out!" I heard Pitch yell. Just as that happened, I felt a white-hot pain grip my spine, and I fell right through the hole in the broken window-bag and into the open air. I fell for just a few seconds when a large explosion of multi-color electricity exploded right out of the eighth floor. I saw greens and blues and reds and all the colors between. It looked beautiful as the different bolts disappeared, as they usually did when coming from an artificial source, such as a human like me. Did I make the explosion? Or Blanch?
Immediately, I felt the energy return and the pain in my spine disappeared. As soon as I felt like I regained control over my body, my mind seemed to work so fast that everything around seemed to slow.
I was falling head first towards the ground. An object falls at 9.8 meters per second. The eighth floor was just about 26.4 meters from the ground. That gave me just about one more second before I hit the ground head first...
I stopped immediately, time speeding up again and my nose brushing the sidewalk, just barely touching it. My face felt like it was about to explode when all the blood rushed into it. This was like bungee jumping; whenever you hit the vertex of your downwards jump, you felt like your head was going to pop. I let out a breath that I didn't know that I was holding. My cape pooled on the ground below me...or was it above me when I was upside down?
I didn't have time to think about it when the rain quickly leaked into my suit and made me drop face-first into the pavement. I curled in on the laptop, protecting it as my side hit the pavement harshly. The cold of the concrete seeped through the suit as if there was no suit at all...
I peeked down at my body, surprised that many parts of my suit were burned away. I stared down at the material in shock. This stuff was nearly impossible to damage, it wasn't even flammable, or, at least, it was flame resistant. The Febreez, I thought accusingly towards myself. It was flammable, and I sprayed too much on my suit. Stupid me.
I stared up at the building, which was on fire. Huh. Fire. Ffffiiirrrrrreee, I thought lazily. Glass sprinkled the pavement around me, and police sirens were already beginning to sound across the city. Something black blocked my vision of the red flames. I looked up at the blonde messy head of Pitch. He looked like not a hair on his head (or a feather on his body) had been harmed at all.
"We need to go," he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Right then, though, it kinda was.
"I can't teleport when it's raining,"
Pitch grabbed my arm. "Hold on to that laptop tight, there's some reason why Blanch wanted it." He flexed for a minute, and then we both disappeared, leaving a burning building and a mad supervillain behind.