Superheroes: Terror's Path
Warning: Foul language and harsh concepts ahead. Maturity desirable.
The night was perfect here in the hollow between towns. The valley was filled with fog, and the lights of the rare vehicle passing down its road cut like glowing foam bats through cold grease. Even The Terror was beginning to regret walking this clammy, miserable stretch of old asphalt half-falling into the creek a few meters away. But the strange super knew that its intended prey was on this road, and in order to make the capture there must be a presence here.
The truck roared up the buckled road, leaping its lumps and rifts with the ease of casual speed and a decade of getaway practice. Inside its covered bed, a precious cargo slammed into the rusty floor with every landing. The driver knew what it meant if he were caught. When he saw a humanoid figure in front of him on the road, he floored the accelerator and didn't touch his horn.
Then the truck passed through the figure as if it were a ghost.
Maybe it had been. But there were reports of some ghost that had been after this man's compatriots for several weeks now. Each one came away with white hair, some so pale of skin after their encounters that they looked like they'd already been killed. Most clammed up and hid away, one had gone on a shooting rampage that took out two cops, his son, his car, and his own chest cavity.
This fellow had an idea what he was up against. He'd talked to an astrologer, who'd told him that with Saturn and Mars where they were on his chart, he was going to have to confront some very hard truths soon. He didn't understand all that gibberish, but he knew a warning when he got one. The worst was that she'd said his love life was about to take a downturn. He didn't have a love life, damnit, and that gave him hope... hope that the reading was bullshit this time, unlike the last four times.
He knew better. Right too often was right enough to scare him off his usual route to the dropoff point.
The Terror knew this, and was already at work. Unlike that fictional character the Scarecrow, it knew how to use the mind to do the job right. No need for expensive chemicals to make people afraid when you can simply drive them insane with the right posture, the right kind of look. The right words.
"Tough guys like you, you can take a hit and shrug it off. You get mad when someone tries to intimidate you. So let's strike at what you value: Yourself and the shit you think you own."
"Who said that?" It was like someone was reading his mind, selling his spiel back at him. "God damn it, ghost! Show yourself!"
"True to form. Don't worry, I already have. You ran me over!"
"Shit, you are a ghost!"
"No lie. And now you won't be rid of me until you're rid of the very thing I came to take away. Enjoy your new life, Best Buddy, we're gonna be talking for quite a while."
"Eat shit and die! Get the fuck out of my truck! Get outta here!"
"No can do. Sorry to say it, I've been tasked. Get outta slave duty by saving a few lives, that sort of thing."
"Slave duty?"
The truck jumped a buckle the driver hadn't meant to. He lifted his foot and slowed a bit, focusing on the curves in the rotten road.
"Yep. You ever heard of Satan? You won't be working for him. He actually wants people who know for a fact what they're doing. The ones who know they don't have a choice, because all their choices put them square in his face. The ones I drive his way."
"Don't believe in him. It's bullshit. Jesus and God and Satan and all that shit can just shine their asses at people for all I care and dump all the shit they like on 'em! I don't got to believe nothing!"
"Yep. Don't got to believe nothing. Like the money you got for your work wasn't blood money every time."
"Fuck you, bitch! And get the fuck out of my truck!"
"Nope. Gotta save a life here. Turn left."
"Fuck you. I go straight!"
"Turn left, the road's fallen in the water ahead."
"FUCK YOU!" The driver floored his accelerator again, and the truck roared louder. Then it lifted, and for a few seconds there was nothing. No road noise, no bumps, no vibration except the engine running faster and faster and faster.
They landed hard, and the engine died.
"Let her go. Take anything else out of your truck and walk away. Never go to your drop, and never go back home. You'll live if you do this."
"She's already dead, and I gotta do this!" The driver was trying desperately to start his truck, pounding the wheel and the gas, twisting as hard as he could at the key in its socket to make the starter run. But then there was a snap, and the starter didn't even hum.
"I told you, I'm here to save a life, you vile shit! Now get out of there and GET AWAY! They think YOU did all that because everyone you loved is screaming your name over and over saying EVIL and TRAP!"
"You wha?"
"It's a setup. The cops are already there. You're either gonna die in prison during a riot, or I save your ass and you. Owe. Me. One."
The driver sat, staring at the road. Then very slowly turned his head to the passenger seat.
"I already told you I loved you, Amrit. Your very name means immortal. But you're vulnerable to metal, I've seen it before. And I did some very bad things for you. Leave my body and go, you awful man, or Satan's going to make a slave of ME, even after I gave up crime to love you!"
He mouthed his dead wife's name, starting to shake, taking a glance through the back window at the very still body in the bed, dressed in her church finest. There were no bruises on the bloodless body, but it still looked a bit battered after the drive so far. The Terror vanished from his sight as he looked back at her.
When Immortal the Vanquisher got out of the truck and looked behind it, the road had indeed fallen, bridge and all, into the fast-moving creek water. He'd have drowned to stay with her. For her soul, unbeliever as he was, he'd do anything. Even abandon her funeral and the home where they'd lived quietly for eight joyful years together.
Immortal gathered a handful of things and started walking into the hills. He could almost feel himself aging, despite the curse of immortal youth placed on him in his warrior prime.
He looked back once, when the gas tank burst into flames. Then no more looking. Tierra had already taken her body from him, but he knew with an absolute knowing that she was with him until their love was no more. The love she'd sold for her powers.
And that she was tasked with taking it away so he could die, for what was immortality without love?
The night was perfect here in the hollow between towns. The valley was filled with fog, and the lights of the rare vehicle passing down its road cut like glowing foam bats through cold grease. Even The Terror was beginning to regret walking this clammy, miserable stretch of old asphalt half-falling into the creek a few meters away. But the strange super knew that its intended prey was on this road, and in order to make the capture there must be a presence here.
The truck roared up the buckled road, leaping its lumps and rifts with the ease of casual speed and a decade of getaway practice. Inside its covered bed, a precious cargo slammed into the rusty floor with every landing. The driver knew what it meant if he were caught. When he saw a humanoid figure in front of him on the road, he floored the accelerator and didn't touch his horn.
Then the truck passed through the figure as if it were a ghost.
Maybe it had been. But there were reports of some ghost that had been after this man's compatriots for several weeks now. Each one came away with white hair, some so pale of skin after their encounters that they looked like they'd already been killed. Most clammed up and hid away, one had gone on a shooting rampage that took out two cops, his son, his car, and his own chest cavity.
This fellow had an idea what he was up against. He'd talked to an astrologer, who'd told him that with Saturn and Mars where they were on his chart, he was going to have to confront some very hard truths soon. He didn't understand all that gibberish, but he knew a warning when he got one. The worst was that she'd said his love life was about to take a downturn. He didn't have a love life, damnit, and that gave him hope... hope that the reading was bullshit this time, unlike the last four times.
He knew better. Right too often was right enough to scare him off his usual route to the dropoff point.
The Terror knew this, and was already at work. Unlike that fictional character the Scarecrow, it knew how to use the mind to do the job right. No need for expensive chemicals to make people afraid when you can simply drive them insane with the right posture, the right kind of look. The right words.
"Tough guys like you, you can take a hit and shrug it off. You get mad when someone tries to intimidate you. So let's strike at what you value: Yourself and the shit you think you own."
"Who said that?" It was like someone was reading his mind, selling his spiel back at him. "God damn it, ghost! Show yourself!"
"True to form. Don't worry, I already have. You ran me over!"
"Shit, you are a ghost!"
"No lie. And now you won't be rid of me until you're rid of the very thing I came to take away. Enjoy your new life, Best Buddy, we're gonna be talking for quite a while."
"Eat shit and die! Get the fuck out of my truck! Get outta here!"
"No can do. Sorry to say it, I've been tasked. Get outta slave duty by saving a few lives, that sort of thing."
"Slave duty?"
The truck jumped a buckle the driver hadn't meant to. He lifted his foot and slowed a bit, focusing on the curves in the rotten road.
"Yep. You ever heard of Satan? You won't be working for him. He actually wants people who know for a fact what they're doing. The ones who know they don't have a choice, because all their choices put them square in his face. The ones I drive his way."
"Don't believe in him. It's bullshit. Jesus and God and Satan and all that shit can just shine their asses at people for all I care and dump all the shit they like on 'em! I don't got to believe nothing!"
"Yep. Don't got to believe nothing. Like the money you got for your work wasn't blood money every time."
"Fuck you, bitch! And get the fuck out of my truck!"
"Nope. Gotta save a life here. Turn left."
"Fuck you. I go straight!"
"Turn left, the road's fallen in the water ahead."
"FUCK YOU!" The driver floored his accelerator again, and the truck roared louder. Then it lifted, and for a few seconds there was nothing. No road noise, no bumps, no vibration except the engine running faster and faster and faster.
They landed hard, and the engine died.
"Let her go. Take anything else out of your truck and walk away. Never go to your drop, and never go back home. You'll live if you do this."
"She's already dead, and I gotta do this!" The driver was trying desperately to start his truck, pounding the wheel and the gas, twisting as hard as he could at the key in its socket to make the starter run. But then there was a snap, and the starter didn't even hum.
"I told you, I'm here to save a life, you vile shit! Now get out of there and GET AWAY! They think YOU did all that because everyone you loved is screaming your name over and over saying EVIL and TRAP!"
"You wha?"
"It's a setup. The cops are already there. You're either gonna die in prison during a riot, or I save your ass and you. Owe. Me. One."
The driver sat, staring at the road. Then very slowly turned his head to the passenger seat.
"I already told you I loved you, Amrit. Your very name means immortal. But you're vulnerable to metal, I've seen it before. And I did some very bad things for you. Leave my body and go, you awful man, or Satan's going to make a slave of ME, even after I gave up crime to love you!"
He mouthed his dead wife's name, starting to shake, taking a glance through the back window at the very still body in the bed, dressed in her church finest. There were no bruises on the bloodless body, but it still looked a bit battered after the drive so far. The Terror vanished from his sight as he looked back at her.
When Immortal the Vanquisher got out of the truck and looked behind it, the road had indeed fallen, bridge and all, into the fast-moving creek water. He'd have drowned to stay with her. For her soul, unbeliever as he was, he'd do anything. Even abandon her funeral and the home where they'd lived quietly for eight joyful years together.
Immortal gathered a handful of things and started walking into the hills. He could almost feel himself aging, despite the curse of immortal youth placed on him in his warrior prime.
He looked back once, when the gas tank burst into flames. Then no more looking. Tierra had already taken her body from him, but he knew with an absolute knowing that she was with him until their love was no more. The love she'd sold for her powers.
And that she was tasked with taking it away so he could die, for what was immortality without love?