Heroic Acts

Thirty Eight

Seth met Z in their usual location, proud as can be. He was fully suited in his Phantom gear, ready to fight. He wanted to annihilate his opponent, and he had just the adrenaline to do so. The rage sparked in him from seeing Andy was the perfect fuel to his madness. He could practically taste his victory.

"You seem determined," Z said, walking around Seth in a circle. He wanted to get a good look at his villain.

"I'm just really confident today, sir," Seth said. Deep in his heart he knew he had to succeed.

"Here," Z said, and handed Seth an object wrapped up in a thick cloth and tied up with twine. The cloth was seemingly just patchwork made up of old rags, like those used for cleaning. The twine wasn't all that special either, as it was thin and frayed.

"What is it?" Seth asked, beginning to unravel the twine with one hand. It was so weak, it nearly disintegrated.

"It's our ticket to finding our Warrior. I know he goes to that stupid academy of yours; I've narrowed it down to that much," Z said.

Seth unfolded the cloth to find a shiny, sharp, silver dagger. The blade was about six inches long, and had thin, spiral-like designs carved into it. The handle was bulky, leathery, and easy to grip. He held it tightly in his hand, turning it once or twice to really get a good look at it.

"Sir? A dagger?" Seth asked, his eyes remaining on the piece.

"You are going to stab the Warrior," Z instructed. "You don't have to kill him unless, y'know, you really want to. However, how many students at that school of yours can hide that he's been stabbed? He'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"You really want me to stab him?" Seth asked, and raised his gaze to his boss.

"Sure! Why not? We tried to shoot him already, what's a little stab wound? Of course if you're too squeamish... I could do it," Z said menacingly.

"No, sir. I've let you down far too many times. I can pull it off," Seth said evilly. He looked back down at the dagger in awe.

"Make me proud, my boy," Z said, wrapping an arm around his villain's shoulders. Seth nearly melted, loving the validation from the only man he could ever consider a father figure. He wasn't going to fuck up this time, or ever again.

***

Darien responded to the commotion immediately; it was the same old thing over and over. Part of the city is being attacked, blah blah blah, someone do something! Easy. He knew for a fact that he was the stronger one. The Phantom was ALMOST a match for him, but when you get into the numbers, Darien popped out right on top.

He hid himself in a closed down parking garage to change into his costume, sliding on the boots and gloves with joy. He loved being this person; he loved looking out for people. He did it without expecting any kind of reward in return. He was purely as close to a saint as he could possibly get.

Once his costume was on, he made his way to the city hall. Now airborne, he weaved through and around buildings and trees. As he grew closer to the hall, the commotion began to get louder and louder. Civilians' faces burst into relief as they saw the hero flying above.

"He's here!" a woman shouted.

"He's going to protect us again!" said a man.

Darien took a moment to beam a smile at those talking about him before spotting his rival standing on top of the building. The Phantom's hands were raised in the air, levitating cars and bricks and as many random blunt objects possible.

"Hello, my friend," the Phantom said menacingly. "I was hoping you'd come out to play."

"This is no game, Phantom!" Darien shouted. "Why are you so obsessed with putting people's lives in danger?!"