Callback and Tramp are both based out of Shrewster, the second biggest city after Quinstin. If a Cape or Cowl can’t handle Quinstin, this is where they go. There isn’t a Heroes’ Union branch out here, just a bunch of solo Capes. There just aren't any big hitters like Quinstin.
Hotpants had the idea to rob a bank for attention. He’ll go in first and pretend to be a customer. He’ll only be there as a precaution. I don’t need backup, but Nobody would say it's better to be safe than sorry. This is the first mission he entrusted to me, and I can't fail him.
It’s a little past three when we arrive in Shrewster. I park at a nearby garage attached to Bringsley Mall. It’s close enough for a quick getaway if things get dicey. This is around peak hours for the place, so that increases the chance that the Capes we’re after will show up. We should steal some cash. I’ll beat the two of them into submission, and then we’ll snag them. Nice and easy. I stay in my car as Isaiah heads over to the bank.
The bank, Shrewster Savings, doesn’t have metal detectors, but it does have bulletproof glass and multiple cameras. Isaiah agreed not to interfere unless things get extremely bad, but he is carrying. Being caught on camera shouldn’t do anything to harm Nobody’s plans. He wants to remain hidden, but I stick out no matter where I go. I trust Isaiah to perform his part so I can focus on doing mine.
I count down the minutes until fifteen have passed. Isaiah texts me with a rough description of where the cameras are inside. Go time. I pull my hood up and get out of the car. A sense of excitement has been building inside me since we arrived in Shrewster. Tramp will give me a good fight. She has to give me a good fight. I’ve waited too long for this. I won’t let anyone or anything get in my way. The anxious energy ramps as I round the corner and see the bank. I’m bursting with happiness as I stand outside the building, taking a moment to center myself.
There's a sign that says no hoods, no masks, and no scarves/bandannas on the side of the door. I pull my hood tighter and step inside, keeping my back to the camera that watches the entrance. It’s spacious and has half a dozen chairs for customers to sit and wait. Two tellers sit behind bulletproof glass, each helping a customer. The vault is behind them, and there are two cubicles in the room for loan officers or other bank workers. Isaiah is sitting with one of them, and a younger couple is with the other officer. One person is waiting for the next available teller, an older woman. Four employees and six customers, if I include Isaiah. I crouch down and fake tying my shoes. My hood falls back while I put my hair into a ponytail and transform. I want to be at my best for her. I pick up one of the chairs and bend it around the handle of the door, locking everyone inside. The older woman sees me, her mouth open in shock.
Stomping forward to the teller’s counter, I kick a hole through it. The two tellers stumble out of my way. The bank explodes into chaos and panic, people screaming and trying to hide from me. Isaiah is playing his role well, helping the couple hide under a desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the loan officer desperately trying to press a button at his station secretly. Good, the police will help attract the Capes. I shove both tellers into the walls, knocking them out. I haven’t said a word since entering, and that’s purposeful. A flaming titan busts into a bank without saying anything is going to make them bring in the Capes. The vault behind them is as tall as I am but not nearly as sturdy. I rip the door off of it and toss it behind me. Another round of shrieking starts, and I hear someone start crying. I’ve given my hostages plenty of time and space to call 911, but I’ve been here five minutes and still don’t hear sirens. I'm toeing the line between giving the Capes and police time to respond and not getting hot enough to cook everyone in here alive.
Entering the vault, I see stacks of banded cash arranged in a cube on a table at the center. The walls are made up of safety deposit boxes. I grab a bank bag that’s hanging on the wall and start throwing the money in. Body heat isn’t too high yet. I can still pick things up without them burning. The aspect of my power that transforms my clothes makes them insulated and fireproof. The only parts of me that are exposed are my hands and face, meaning the heat will be centralized there. By the time I finish taking the cash, I can hear sirens from outside. Ten minutes. Five more until things truly start to get hot. I leave the vault with the bag and walk to the door. Outside are seven cop cars and over a dozen police officers, but there are no Neuvohumans.
I kick the door, shattering the glass panes into the street. My head destroys the doorway on my way out. The cops all have their guns trained on me, armed with shotguns and high-caliber rifles for tougher targets. They have no idea it won’t do anything. I have yet to find anyone or anything that can hurt me in this form. The police have completely cleared the street, with no civilians in sight. They scream out for my surrender through the megaphone, but I ignore them and approach their vehicle barricade. Still nothing? Where the fuck are you, Tramp? Ugh, this is taking too long. One scared cop shoots me in the face, and my head jerks back from the force. High-caliber indeed. Of course, my skin is fine. Bullets can’t harm me. Little fuck. I toss the bag of money to the side to free my hands and protect it. I grab the front of one of the cop cars with one hand and chuck it down the street like it’s nothing. It explodes upon landing. All at once, the police unload at me, sending shells and bullets that do nothing but crumple or bounce off of me.
Powdered stone swirls around me from the walls and ground that have been shot to shit. I emerge from it like a demon from hell, and more than one cop yells. You ain’t seen nothing yet. I barge through the blockade, sending officers and patrol cars flying. I’m gentle with the police; they’re just here doing their job. My Shifter form isn’t just strong; it’s fast. I dash right at a group of officers and snap one of their arms with a chop. Their pads and riot gear do nothing to blunt my strikes. I pick up two of them, spinning in place, and toss them through a clothing store window across the street. I leap at another pack of them and kick another one’s knee backward. I smack an officer in the chest, and he goes flying away from me. More sirens are heading my way, but there is no sign of a Cape. Where is she? Where the fuck is- My thought gets cut off when something hits me in the back of my head. I stumble forward, whirling around to see her standing on the top of a car. The gold and silver suit with a matching cape nearly makes my heart flutter. She’s smaller than she looked in the footage and holding her signature bo staff. Her costume is tight, showing off her toned abdomen and straining against her breasts.
“YOU CAME,” I yelled at her.
“Obviously, you’re making a mess of my city. Who are you? I don’t recognize you, and you would be pretty hard to forget,” she said.
“I’m V, and you’re Tramp. Please don’t let me down. I came quite a ways just to fight you after all,” I said excitedly.
“You’re here to fight me? What are you, some type of fangirl? Listen, why don’t you come along quietly, and maybe I’ll give you an autograph, or we can take a picture,” she said, talking to me like a child.
“I don’t want an autograph; I want to test myself.”
“Now you aren’t getting anything but a cot and three meals. You’re going to jail, missy,” she said with the same condescending tone as before.
Rather than rise to her taunt, I run at her and slam my hands into the car. The vehicle flips, and she uses it to land behind me. She picks up a softball-sized piece of the bank, bouncing it off the ground with her power. What is she? Her bo staff whips forward, smacking into the rubble like a baseball bat. I said I was fast, but this thing is a missile and explodes against my face. I wave the concrete dust away and see her boot just as it hits me. It doesn’t do anything and she hops away from me before I can counterattack. I’m so much bigger, stronger, and tougher than her, but she’s nimble. She can dodge, but not forever. Tramp rushes at me, jumps seven feet up in the air, and punches me in the face. It doesn’t hurt or do any damage to me, and it only fuels my excitement. She’s shaking her hand in pain as my left leg whips out and sends her flying toward the wall. There was no crunch, so she activated her ability. She twists in the air so that her feet land against the wall, and she springboards back at me. I aim a right hook at the incoming human projectile, and she once again goes bouncing away after my hit.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“IS THAT ALL YOU GOT, TRAMP?” I yelled out.
“Not even close. You’re going down, you flaming freakshow,” Tramp replied.
Tramp runs behind one of the turned-over vehicles for cover and comes out the other side, twirling her bo staff. She uses it to launch herself into the air. I prepare for her attack, but she goes past me. Tramp flies into a wall and jumps off of it, bouncing over to another storefront wall. Downtown Shrewster has plenty of shops for her to continue this game of keepaway. I don’t bother moving. There’s no way to catch her while she’s doing this. I notice she’s slowly gathering speed as all around me are gold and silver afterimages. What you got, girl? I don’t see her hit me, but I feel the impact and hear the sound of all the glass on the street shattering. The impact knocks me backward, carving out a huge chunk of the street as I crash through it. I look down at my chest, and there is a tiny crack in my hoodie. My chest is slightly sore from the impact. Finally.
I push myself out of the crater. “Congratulations, Tramp. You’re the first person ever to damage me. How the hell did you hit me without breaking your hand?”
She’s holding a strap attached to some cracked black material. She used a police riot helmet. I knew I was right about her.
“Hell yeah! Okay, you’ve proven my hunch correct. I will now take this seriously; you’ve shown you can take it,” I shouted happily.
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” she replied.
Tramp is standing in the street in front of the bank, waiting for me. I grab a car in each hand and do a double discus spinning throw, sending both cars soaring at her. I nearly clap for her as she jumps off the first car and through the empty windows of the second. This chick is awesome. Once Nobody does his tests, I want her power. Unfortunately for her, the fifteen-minute mark just passed. She does another bouncing swing with her bo staff at my face, and this time, we both hear a sizzle from the hit. Her staff doesn’t look damaged, but it will be soon enough. I close in on her before she can escape and land a gut punch. She makes her abdomen bouncy so my fist is knocked away, but the heat from it creates a small hole in her costume. Tramp may be able to use her power to all but nullify the kinetic force of my attacks, but the heat can’t be bounced away.
“Fuck,” she exclaimed.
“Oh yeah,” I replied.
I don’t give her a chance to do anything, sending out straight jabs at her head. She weaves under them, using her power to dodge like a boxer. I switch it up and throw out a hook kick. She braces with her arm, but it’s a feint, and I shift my kick right into her side. She blasts away like a cannonball, and I run right after her. I’ve been doing this all wrong. Before she can do anything, I grab her by her leg. As soon as I clasp her ankle, it begins to burn, with her costume catching fire around my hand. We aren’t at the thirty-minute mark, but I can feel the heat rising inside me. Now that I’ve caught her, this fight is over. Too short. I move my hand to her throat, and she screams as the heat torches her mouth covering. She starts to cough at the smoke while my hand cooks her.
I feel something bounce off my back, and then an explosion blasts me to my knees. Tramp falls from my grip, my body protecting her from the blast. If there had been any glass left on the street, they’d be gone now. I get up and look around. I’m not worried about the Cape at my feet. She isn’t going anywhere with her burns. Standing on top of a nearby roof is a man wearing a tactical vest covered in pockets. He has long blonde hair tied back and a light blue helmet with white spirals on it that exposes his jaw. His outfit isn’t as tight fitting as Tramps, much more flowy but with belts and straps all over it that contain knives. He even has a utility belt with little compartments and a satchel bag. And Callback joins the party.
Callback throws a dagger at me that I don’t even bother blocking. Before the blade hits me, Callback appears, holding it. He drops into a crouch and tries to stab my leg before disappearing down the street. I hear him grunt in pain as the heat hits him. His blade couldn’t penetrate my skin, and his explosive did nothing as well. If he doesn’t have something else up his sleeves, then this is over. I slowly advance down the street to my next opponent, the road bubbling due to the heat. Every car I pass explodes as the gasoline combusts. Streetlights, signs, newsstands, and shop faces droop and melt as I walk by. A hydrant erupts in an explosion of steam. The air is hazy and mirage-like. This fight is over.
Callback throws a multitude of weapons at me, but they all burn up before reaching me. I pick up a chunk of the street and work it in my hands to create lava. He teleports away as I get closer, but I’m ready. As soon as his boots touch the top of the car near Tramp, I torque my arm back and fling my lava missile at him. The projectile slams into him, blasting him off one car and into another.
I walk over to Callback, his chest still covered in molten rock. His eyes are closed, and he’s passed out due to a mixture of shock and pain. I scrape the stuff off his chest, taking most of his costume and skin with it. Whoops. Well, Nobody wanted them alive, not in good condition. I look around at the destruction my fight caused. Everything around is on fire or charred; the cops fled after the heat got too much to bear. Protect and serve. All the walls melted like putty in the microwave, and the street is warped and twisted beyond recognition. I shift back to human so I can grab the two downed Capes and drag them away. A black truck pulls up to the end of the street where my power didn’t reach. Inside is Isaiah, waving at me. I'm strong enough to drag Callback and carry Tramp without much of a problem. After tossing the two of them in the bed of the truck, Isaiah drives us over to the garage.
“Holy shit, that was incredible, V.”
“Nice job, Hotpants. You know how to hotwire cars?” I asked him.
“What can I say? I’m a Renaissance man. We should split up when we get to the garage. I’ll grab our last guy while you bring these two to the base and let the boss know about our success. It’ll be more efficient than both of us going after the civilian; the boss seems like he prefers efficiency,” Isaiah said.
It’s a good plan; all of his are. I’ve seen him kill with no remorse, crack jokes flirtatiously, and improvise meticulously. It’s a good thing he’s so loyal to Nobody because he’s too dangerous to be left to his own devices.
“Another good idea, and you’re right about the man in charge. Are you going to be alright to get the old man?” I asked.
“Yep, I’ll see you back at the base,” he said as we stuffed the two toasty Capes into my trunk. I use a couple of towels to pat them both down, snuffing any embers that might be left.
We go our separate ways, and I head back to Crimton. On the way, I go over the fight in my head. Think, Vivienne, was there anything that Mr. Jonesby would’ve critiqued? Yeah. He’d say that I should’ve tried grappling her immediately, especially since I had information on my opponent beforehand. And that I got lost in the thrill of the chase again. But then he’d tell me I did good, and I’d be happy. I’m thankful for Hotpants’ suggestion to split up as tears form and roll down my face.
Parking my car next to the base, I wipe my face on my sleeves and look in my mirror. Great I look like I've been bawling my eyes out. Nothing shifting won’t solve. I pop the trunk and transform. Neither Callback nor Tramp are moving, but both are still breathing. They won’t survive the night without immediate treatment. Well, they weren’t going to survive the night either way. Nobody is pretty insistent that we can’t allow anyone to know about his power. Once inside, I drag both of them and arrange them in the jungle gym contraption from earlier. I have to snap both of Callback’s wrists and empty all his pouches before I string him up. Unlike Tramp, Punch, and Diminish, Callback can use his powers regardless of how I contain him. That means I need to make him unable to use it properly. Let’s see you try to use a tool with a snapped wrist. While securing the two new occupants, Punch wakes up.
“What the fuck? Where the fuck am I?” He jerks his head around until he spots me. “You. You’re that cunt that sucker punched me. I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“You aren’t gonna do shit. Look around you, Punch. You are in an abandoned warehouse that could be anywhere. You are the fourth Neuvohuman I’ve beaten today, and none of you have even put up much of a fight,” I said. It's not really a lie; three out of four didn’t put up a fight.
I turn my back on him and text Nobody that I’m on my way to pick him up. My phone dings, and it’s a picture of Isaiah with the older man bound. Let’s go, Hotpants. I message Kai to let him know we’re almost ready for the procedure. He asks for the address, and I tell him to show up in two and a half hours—plenty of time to pick up Nobody. Five names, five powers, five prisoners. I did it.