Doctored Chance #NaNoWriMo2019

33 | Lab Rats

Any moment, any moment, any moment now. Tobias prowled like a tiger—a tiger with a severe limp and a cane—across the control platform, his visions clear as crystals in his shifting gaze. The volcano rumbled and he paused against one wall to wait it out.

His hand froze, mid-dust-fanning, as his near future became near certain and he hastily threw his hood up over his head. Excitedly, he fell towards the railing in long, clumsy, peg-dragging lunges. Like an energetic, overweight, possibly inebriated zombie with his face stitched in a stupid grin.

His arms roped around the steel bar, which caught on his armpits. He straightened out, breathing loudly, laughingly, and gnarled his fingers tight around the rail.

One hand reached out to hover over a middle-sized, round, red button at the end of the control panel and he waited, blinking away dust and dampening emotions.

The double doors below burst open with the thunder of reinforced steel—the only upgrade that Powerful Real Estate had installed, due to the irreparable damage from the lair's previous encounter with Mr. Might. The booming clap reverberated around the chamber, loud, bearable, then quiet, and gone.

Tobias pounded the red button as soon as two bodies charged in, fists raised defensively and eyes searching every inch of the place—alert, as heroes were trained to be. The door slammed behind them and locked electronically and both jumped to note the obstacle and determine new exits with sweeping and scrutinous looks. They stood back-to-back in case an attacker was near.

"Welcome, welcome, Team Defiance!" Tobias crowed, his voice carrying easily and eerily throughout the room. It sounded strange to him; loud and patronizing and reflecting of his broad grin. Tinny and nasally. "It has been too long."

The dust was settling, the figures becoming clearer. They bared their teeth at him. Oh, but they were so pathetically small and distant, twenty-five-odd feet below. They look like action figures, Tobias giggled to himself. Little toys. Little powerless toys.

"Hand over the hostage, and no one gets hurt," Mr. Might bellowed. His fist pressed over his heart, where his locket was pocketed beneath his patterned blue spandex. His stance was much weaker than usual. In fact, even with the distance between them, Tobias could see how poor a state the man was in. Pale, sweating, shivering... and bearing foolhardily through it as expected. Reckless. Arrogant.

"Ha ha!" Tobias rocked on his heel. The sweat on Mr. Might's brows glittered like diamonds, plentiful over his ghostly skin. "I won't stop you! Come get her! She's right here! Don't be shy."

"For the honor—"

Tobias braced himself against the rail moments before the volcano roared and shook again. Mr. Might fell over within seconds, while Vine Voodoo kept her footing. Her eyes anxiously flicked to her teammate but landed firmly on Tobias.

"Who are you?" she asked, moving to stand in front of Mr. Might.

The man with super strength coughed as if he had aged fifty years and smoked cigarettes through all of them. He stood with equal struggle, dragging his shaky pleather boots beneath his heavy barrel chest as if he'd forgotten how much his own body weighed. His usually perfect hair shone slicky and oily and was beginning to frizz.

He swayed slightly, calling the nervous attention of his teammate.

"Who am I?" Tobias repeated, his voice reaching high pitches. He tapped his chin, purring thoughtfully. He leaned giddily over the railing, eyes alight as he beckoned his honored guests forward. "Come. Come closer. Come on, now. You'll see!"

Mrs. Jones burst into tears behind him, muted by her gag but no less irritating. Her sobs echoed through the mics, loud and disruptive.

Tobias turned on his heel, scowling. "Mrs. Jones." He paused, took a deep breath, and smiled as patiently as he could. "Sniveling will not untie those knots."

She kicked and swung on the chain; a futile struggle that elicited only a disdainful eye-roll from her captor.

"Careful now, those rusted old chains won't last forever."

"Jane!" Mr. Might called. His booming voice cracked, thick and wet as the snap of limbs. "Never fear! I will save you! I am coming, my love!"

Tobias quivered at a fresh light bulb moment, cheeks lifting. He looked back at the heroes for a moment, finding Mr. Might with his hands on the ladder rungs. Tobias crouched and tilted his head down at the man, watching his trembling fingers slide over the first steel bar.

"BJ!" Vine Voodoo cried. She lowered her voice, but the acoustics of the chamber brought them to Tobias's big, eager ears anyways. "We don't know his powers. We don't know the tricks of this chamber. I don't have my powers and you..."

"I am fine," Mr. Might snapped. His muscles quivered, rippling disconcertingly as he heaved himself up the first step and reached for the second.

Tobias pushed on a lever, and Mrs. Jones's hook creaked into motion on a track. He pulled the lever back before her feet left the safety of the platform, but moved her far enough out that the heroes would see her better. He crouched down to watch Mr. Might again, barely strong enough to haul himself up the third rung.

"How does it feel, Jones?" Tobias invited superciliously. Success. His virus worked; it was painfully obvious and beyond thrilling. The pure satisfaction of his own triumph pulsed in his veins. His spine tingled, and his eyes twinkled, and his cheeks felt sore from the stretch of his ear-to-ear grin. Years holed up in a laboratory, alone and without recognition for his efforts, had at last paid off. Dr. Tobias MacClain was officially the first person to render a superhero entirely powerless. A first in anything is something to boast about.

Tobias bit his thumb and squealed quietly as he watched the mighty man fall over and over in his mind. There were chances that he might fall off the fourth rung, and chances he might reach the fifth or even, with a few pails of sweat and muscles spasming as if postmortem, he might reach the eighth. But, there were twenty rungs, and no chances at all for his pitiful self to reaching the top.

Tobias extended his hand jovially, reaching towards the man from the top of the platform. "Come on. Come on, mighty Mr. Might. Come and beat me up. Save the woman. You can do it. Come on! What are you waiting for? Come on!"

Mr. Might clenched his jaw and shakily reached for the fifth rung. His biceps gave out and his other hand relinquished its grip on the fourth bar. In the next gloriously satisfying instant, Mr. Might was on his back on the floor, groaning meekly.

Tobias laughed, throwing his head back. "You can't even climb a ladder without your powers! Pathetic! You're pitiful! You're helpless! Oh, if only the world was seeing this, they would recognize how poor a hero you really are!"

"What have you done to me?" Mr. Might croaked, barely strong enough to push himself up onto his elbows. "Who are you?"

"What do you want?" Vine Voodoo added. "What are your terms?"

"I'm hurt." Tobias pouted, sticking out his lower lip. "After all the years that we spent together, you don't recognize my voice? Was it not you, Poppy, who always told me it was nasally? And what of my physique? Is my figure trim enough for your liking, now?" He gestured broadly over himself, taking far too much haughty delight in his mockery. "I lost a good few pounds; note my missing leg and my missing fingers."

The heroes stared, stuck with their brows furrowed and their eyes wide as their faces visibly struggled to piece two and two together. Recognition shone in the sparkling wet of their eyes, but each face remained stunned to a degree of blankness.

Tobias grabbed his hood and yanked it from his face, peering down his nose at them like the rats they were. "You know who I am. You made me like this."