My phone says it’s five past eleven, so the mall has been closed for hours, but Shrewster is still awake and loud. Horns beeping, people talking as they walk to and from bars, and general city noises fill the night. Isaiah parks on the second floor of the garage, where there are only a few vehicles parked. Those cars either belong to mall security, or they’re just abandoned. We have to be stealthy because we can’t kill anyone here except for Curtis, or the message of the vigilante will be watered down. There can be no civilian casualties. They’re meant to be a warrior of justice, not a terrorist. Isaiah grabs a duffel bag from the back, and I place my gun within the waistband of my pants.
I’m wearing my usual attire and tonight, Isaiah matches me. He has a black bandana and a hoodie pulled up over his bald head. I follow the giant as he leads me over to a nondescript metal door without any kind of handle or marking. It’s used for deliveries and for mall staff to avoid walking through the mall's crowded public floors. So this is how we’ll be getting inside undetected. Isaiah steps forward, pivots, and delivers a rear horse kick that crumples the door in on itself. His kick echoes within the parking garage but doesn’t extend beyond.
Isaiah grabs our guest from the trunk and drags him back over to me. We step through into the back corridors of the mall. The walls are unfinished plasterboard and plywood with bits of graffiti on them. The cement floors are dusty. There are cigarette butts and trash every couple of feet. The automatic lights brighten up the passage, and I take the lead to search for a way onto the mall floor. We walk through the winding turns, passing the backdoors of several stores. Curtis is beginning to stir as we stop in front of a double door with a push bar. That is what we’ve been looking for.
“Put him against the wall. I’d like to talk to him,” I said.
Isaiah drops Curtis against the wall, and he slumps down onto the floor. I grab the bag off of his head and take a look at the man we’re about to kill. Curtis Drax has a strongly angular face, and not in a flattering way. A face that’s a tad too sharp to be handsome. A well-trimmed mustache sits above his lip, but it doesn’t take away from the overall grimy vibe he gives off. Some people are incapable of masking. I make it a point to be aware of how I appear in order to disguise the cold indifference I hold. Just like Anna Lee, Curtis is a bully who preys on the weak, too scared to make any real ripples. I smack him across the face with the back of my hand. Don’t forget your audience, Eryk; this is a performance.
“What the fuck? Where am I?” Curtis groaned as his eyes adjusted to the light.
“Three things need to be made clear right now: your power is gone, you are at my mercy, and there is no possible chance of escape,” I stated, holding three fingers in front of his face.
He flinches at my helmet’s voice. The voice changer that Aubrey made me matches my tone and emotion, so if I don’t put any in, then all you’ll hear is an assorted choir of bored and stoic voices. To Curtis’ credit, he quickly accepts his situation.
“Okay, and who do I have the pleasure of dealing with?” He said, flashing a smile.
“I’m Nobody, and you’ve already met my man here. He’s the one who plucked you from your safe little nest and delivered you to me,” I answered.
“And what do you gentlemen want from me? Is it money? People? Or is this revenge?” Curtis questioned.
He seems bored. What is it about psychopaths that makes them unable to grasp when they do not have the upper hand? I crouch down and punch Curtis as hard as I can in the center of his face, hearing the snap and crunch of his nose. Before he can register what just happened, I deliver a slap to his ear that jerks his head to the side. Violence has quite a sobering effect on people’s attitudes. Blood is swiftly leaking down his face, but his eyes have a hint of fear and clarity in them that they were previously lacking. Recognizing threats is one of humanity’s greatest strengths.
“None of the above. Trust me when I tell you that you have absolutely nothing you could ever offer me that would interest me. We’re here for a little side project of mine,” I answered truthfully.
“Alright, and how can I help with that? Wait, what kind of side project?” He asked fearfully.
“The kind where I have him beat you into a puddle, a still breathing one, don’t worry, and then kill you in a public place in order to cause hysteria about a boogieman that I manufactured. Isaiah, break him, and do it quickly,” I said, stepping out of his way.
It’s like an uncomfortable itch, the urge to speak honestly. Curtis sputters out a few words in the brief seconds before Isaiah crushes his left shoulder. Curtis wails in agony as Isaiah lifts him into the air by his jaw and squeezes. The noise of his jaw being dislocated and then snapped is muted compared to a nose breaking. Is it due to the jaw being sealed within skin and muscle while the nose is exposed to air? I learn a lot about the art of brutality from those I surround myself with. Isaiah is holding back, controlling his superhuman strength so as not to murder Curtis accidentally. The pain reduces Curtis to a mumbling, crying mess. None of that stops Isaiah from striking and snapping and bruising every piece of him. By the time he’s done, it looks personal, and that will only add to the flavor of the vigilante. I check his pulse, and fortunately, he is still alive, if not gravely injured.
I open the double door and step out onto the second floor of the mall. I listen for any sounds of alarms but hear nothing, and it makes sense; you wouldn’t want mall security setting everything off just by doing their rounds. The overhead lights are dimmed, and all the shops are dark, giving everything a haunting atmosphere. The carpeted grounds of the second floor muffle our steps as we walk toward the nearest escalator, with Isaiah dragging Curtis's limp body along the ground.
My body is tight with tension. This isn't a life-or-death battle, but the stakes are just as high. I’m risking discovery and exposure, as well as ruining my vigilante plan by being here. But I’m still here doing it, getting my own hands dirty. Building my legacy and company is good, but it doesn’t really compare to being down in the mud. It could be that I’ve gained an ego thanks to the multiple emotions or that I’m getting overconfident due to success. We don’t hear a peep or see a single guard on our way down to the first floor.
One of the map kiosks we pass shows a large fountain area in the center of the mall. That’s the perfect spot for where Curtis Drax will meet his end. The power is off, so we use the escalator as stairs. Several tables with chairs for lounging are spread out around the fountain. A wide rim of stone outlines the structure for people to sit on as benches. Cherubs and various birds made of granite spray water to keep the water levels even and moving. There must be thousands of pennies sitting at the bottom of it. I assume no one is desperate enough to bother stealing the change and getting soaked.
“Drop him near the edge of the fountain, and do you have a knife or something similar?” I asked.
Isaiah rummages through his bag and pulls out a box cutter. “This is the best I got.”
I push the blade in and out, testing the mechanism. This’ll do. Curtis’ labored breathing is the only sound in the deserted area. The box cutter effortlessly pierces his palms, and he lets out a pained moan. The cuts are clean and deep, blood rushing to the surface of his skin. I squeeze his hands, dripping the blood into a growing pool on the tiled floor. I wait until there’s enough of the red liquid to write with. Just like with Anna Lee, I grab his hand in mine and use his index and middle fingers to write “The Law Falters, Justice Does Not.”
I look over at Curtis’ pathetic form, mangled and slumped on the ground. I should make this more theatrical for whoever finds this. He’s in rough shape, but he hasn’t expired yet. I wave Isaiah over and have him put one of the chairs inside the fountain. He moves Curtis onto the chair and uses a few zip ties to make sure he won’t fall off. His arms hang loosely at his sides, dripping blood into the waters below him. I pull my pistol out from behind my waist and shoot Curtis in the chest four times. By morning, the water will be pink as the fountain spreads his blood.
“Let’s go.”
We make it back to the car without seeing another person or any complications. I have to stop myself from transforming my helmet instinctively. I’m so used to decompressing with Vivienne and removing my mask after a night of Cowl-related activities. But that is a one-of-a-kind relationship, and no one else can know what I look like. I lean back in the seat and let out a sigh. The helmet’s microphone has a filter, so Isaiah can’t hear my unprofessional noises. I’d like nothing more than to sit silently for the rest of the ride, but I’m in charge, and I can’t waste an opportunity to bind him even closer.
“We will not know what reaction our display will have until tomorrow. They can not possibly hush this, especially if it isn’t discovered until morning. We might get lucky, and some shopper films and uploads videos of the body. Once it’s there, we’re in business, and it won’t trigger the auto delete that the BNA has on Neuvohuman-related things.”
“I’m sure it’ll make quite a splash on the morning news. That mutilated gargoyle is gonna cause some waves,” Isaiah said, smirking at me.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Are you making puns right now?”
“I’m a professional when I’m on the job, but the job is over. A little bit of dark humor never hurt anyone,” Isaiah said.
“I suppose. Vivienne should be back already, so we’re going to have a long night ahead of us. Quinstin is a two-and-a-half-hour ride from the warehouse. We will not be back until tomorrow morning at the earliest. We need to be invisible while we’re there. We are not prepared to take on the major powers of Quinstin, not yet anyway,” I said.
“I know I’m not Vivienne, and I’m new to my ability, but I’m confident in handling anybody in Quinstin, Nobody.”
“Confident? You sound cocky to me, and cockiness will get you killed. My plans don’t require you to be able to handle anybody; they require you to be able to handle everybody. With careful planning, a BNA strike team should not stop you,” I said.
“You seem to hold me in high esteem; I’m flattered. I won’t betray your confidence by fucking anything up. Why, this reminds me of the first time my mama told me she was proud of me,” Isaiah said with an exaggerated drawl.
He’s getting more comfortable around me, which is good news for my little band of miscreants. I need to set time aside to have another one-on-one with Kai. Binding him will be trickier. He’s already gotten the thing he’s always dreamed of, so I have to find some other way to manipulate him.
“A thank you would have sufficed,” I said.
“But then you’d miss out on all my clever jokes and hilarious wordplay. I would never deprive you of that,” Isaiah laughed.
“Yes, what a loss that would be. Moving on. There is a local group of unhoused transients milling around near the warehouse. Round them up and deliver them to the doctor in the next couple of days,” I said.
“Do you need them in any particular shape?” He asked me.
And in an instant, the switch is flipped, and he’s all business. Is it all an act? Is Isaiah Jules a mask the way Eryk Blakely is?
“Keep them relatively unharmed so that the doctor does not have to waste time or effort on repairing them,” I answered.
“Don’t break the toys, got it,” Isaiah said.
I ignore him as we pull onto the highway toward Crimton. As long as there are no setbacks, we should arrive in Quinstin at slightly past one in the morning. Then we ambush Nicholas, and I get a lawyer.
----------------------------------------
Why isn’t Vivienne’s car here? It was just a simple drop-off and exchange of cash. I take out the phone Isaiah gave me and look through the contacts to see Kai, Isaiah, and Vivienne’s names listed. She has a different number from the one I have on my actual phone, so this must be her burner cell. He got burner phones for everybody. It’s smart to keep our civilian and Cowl lives completely separate. I text her and ask if she’s done yet. Make the question vague, don’t use names, and never directly allude to criminal activities. That way, if the phone is lost or seized, police won’t be able to use it to prove anything. After five minutes with no response, Isaiah and I head inside. As we walk through the door, I hear Kai’s voice over the warehouse speaker.
“Nobody, you have a catty visitor in the conference room. Be careful, though. The kitty has claws and is a tad cranky.”
“Where is Vivienne? Has she not come back yet?” I asked.
“Nope,” Kai said with a note of boredom to his tone.
“Let me know if she arrives.”
“Am I required to join the meeting with the kitty? I’m deathly allergic to pussy,” Kai giggled.
Isaiah releases a snort that quickly shifts into booming laughter. He continues chuckling while we walk up the stairs to the second floor. I don’t bother answering the doctor’s question. He already knows the answer. Rorschach is sitting at the head of the conference table, waiting for us, wearing another exquisitely expensive and fashionable dress. It’s a black sleeveless dress that shows off plenty of skin. There’s a deep V shape on the front showing off her sternum tattoos. The dress has an opening on each side around her hips, and it has a slit on the side, showing off her entire left leg. A gold jewelry piece covers her neck and parts of her shoulders, with additional chains hanging over her chest. A matching thigh piece and gold-heeled stilettos finish off her high-fashion look. She’s drumming her manicured nails against the surface of the table with a bored expression on her face. And she’s purposely sitting in my chair. I’m not in the mood for pissing contests and power plays.
“You are in my seat. I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was a mistake—a mistake that you will not repeat,” I said.
“Mhmm, and what happens if I do repeat my mistake?” She asked coyly.
“Cut the cute shit, Rorschach. Either engage in good faith or fuck off,” Isaiah said.
Isaiah’s tone conveys something I don’t recognize, but it causes Rorschach to move out of my seat. She takes the chair a few down from my left, and Isaiah sits opposite her on my right. If we cannot get her to join, she will not be leaving here. Her power is potent, and while I’d rather not have to train up a replacement, I will if forced. It’s poetic; the last time we sat at a table, my life was on the line, and now it’s hers.
“Rorschach, can I assume that you being here means you are open to working for me?” I asked.
“Working with you, but yes, that’s why I came,” she answered.
“No. You will be working for me. This is not a collective like your previous group. We have a clear hierarchy here, and that’s me at the top and everyone else underneath. I am in charge, and while your opinion will have weight, this is not a democracy. If that is not something you can stomach, then there is no point in continuing,” I said.
Her lip twitches, and she quickly smiles to disguise the anger she’s feeling. She will need to reign in that nasty temper of hers if she joins me.
“That isn’t a dealbreaker. Before your next question, can I ask Scaly a question?”
Isaiah subtly looks to me for approval, and I nod.
“I know we weren’t friends, but I trust your opinion as a fellow professional. What makes people like you and that V woman follow him?” Rorschach asked.
“He doesn’t ask you to give more than you have or to do things you aren’t willing to do. He only needs you to do what you’re best at. Also, he’s going to make us filthy fucking rich,” Isaiah answered.
“Alright then, let’s get this job interview started. Do you want to know my biggest strengths or a time I overcame adversity?” Rorschach joked.
“What are the hard lines you will not cross? If I wanted you to smuggle drugs into a party or drug a politician, would you? Are you willing to spy on people for days, maybe months, destroying any sense of privacy?” I pause before my last question. “If I asked you to kill someone the way you murdered Santiago Skull, would you?”
She stops smiling and bites the inside of her cheek. Her face loses the haughty look and becomes shameful. Is this shame at having lost control? Is it because she killed a man in cold blood? What are you thinking right now, Rorschach?
“I won’t,” she mumbled softly.
The venomous, sharp-tongued woman is now so blunted. She’s in the perfect state to be receptive to manipulation.
“Speak up. I asked three questions and only received one answer. Unless your answer applies to all of them,” I said.
“I’m not a drug mule, but if you need me to put a party to sleep, I could. I’m not willing to poison someone to death; I’m not willing to kill anyone. Spying isn’t a problem for me either,” Rorschach said, her voice back to its normal volume.
“I understand, and I will never ask you to do something you wouldn’t do voluntarily. Let me be frank, Rorschach; I do not need more muscle. You’ve seen that I have more than enough. What I would have you do is what you’ve done before. Reconnaissance is something we currently sorely lack. I could have the doctor build drones to accomplish this, but I would still need someone to watch the video feeds. From what I have heard about your ability, you would be even more effective. I might require you to spy on civilians, politicians, Capes, Cowls, and the BNA.”
“What you’ve heard is correct. I’m probably the single best Nevuohuman for info gathering. As long as I’m getting paid well and on time, I can be your eyes and ears. I have expensive tastes and a severe lack of income currently,” Rorschach laughed. “Can I ask you a few questions, Nobody?”
“Of course. Unless it pertains to my identity, I am willing to discuss anything you would like,” I answered. I can’t risk her asking a question and Offset’s honesty causing me to blurt out something sensitive.
“What kind of job would we be doing that would need me to spy on the BNA and politicians?”
“This is not a one-off job, and we are not a gang. I aim to create a multifaceted company that will become too big to fail—not a front for our criminal activities but a genuine legal company on the books. This will no doubt create a lot of enemies, and I can’t send Isaiah and V to beat up a company. We will have to politick, scheme, and out-maneuver to crush our adversaries,” I said.
“That sounds fucking impossible,” she said.
“No, my goal is very much doable, and I am well suited to make it a reality. We will grow our company in Quinstin until we’re big enough to own the city,” I said.
“You ever think your eyes are bigger than your stomach?”
“No. Why would I settle for a piece of the pie when I can buy the bakery that makes it?”
“Okay, fuck yeah. My other question is, what kind of payment system are we going to be using?” Rorschach asked.
“If you decide to join, you will receive a salary, healthcare, insurance, a retirement fund, and equity in this company. All with clean money,” I said.
“Woah, this feels way fuckin’ bigger than I thought when I showed up tonight. All those things sound good, but what the fuck is the point?” Rorschach asked.
Her skepticism, while unwelcome, is not unwarranted.
“The point is to hide in plain sight, to be able to show a normal civilian life when questioned by police and to make large purchases without needing a duffel bag of cash. The point is to contribute so much to the city that even if our crimes are revealed, they can’t do anything to us. It is about stability and security in a career that normally ends in death or imprisonment. I’m talking about creating something that could survive the death of all of us. Look around you, Rorschach. I did all of this in a little over a month; imagine what I can do with a year?” I asked.
Her eyes go wide with surprise. “Is that true?” Rorschach asked Isaiah.
“Yeah, the boss is a real go-getter. It has certainly been an eventful few weeks,” Isaiah answered.
“It sounds like fuckin’ bullshit, but if it’s true, then I’d be a dumbass not to hop on the wave. Let’s say I’m interested. What kind of salary are we talking about?” Rorschach asked.
“Currently? Nothing. None of us are making any money from this yet. We have cash, but it’s dirty, and the rest of our funds are tied up in a product that is in the process of being liquidated. I have a plan in the works to create capital, but it will take a couple of weeks before it manifests. If you cannot wait for our operation to be profitable, I will get you cash, but you will have a smaller equity and salary,” I said.
“This feels like a test to see if I value long-term gains over an immediate windfall. Well, I’d be a shortsighted bitch if I asked for the cash. Okay, Nobody, I’ll join your evil startup,” she said.
“Excellent, and welcome aboard. Isaiah and I have a meeting with a lawyer tonight in Quinstin. Originally, Vivienne was going to accompany us, but since she isn’t here, you will join us instead. It will give me a chance to see how you do on the job. I may need you to help intimidate a few people, but you are being brought along for recon,” I said.
“You don’t want to wait for V?” Isaiah asked.
“We are short on time as is. She can handle anything that’s thrown at her. I’ll grab Mr. Holmes’ file, and then we’ll leave,” I said, getting up from my seat.
“Wow, straight into field work. I have a tank of ink in my car. Can you help me get it, Isaiah?” Rorschach asked.
“Nothing would make me happier, milady,” Isaiah said with a sweeping bow.
“God, you are fucking insufferable,” Rorschach said.
Isaiah follows Rorschach out of the conference room, and I head to my office. Nick’s file isn’t the most robust, but it should say who owns his debt. We will either buy it out or eradicate everyone involved. I’ll read it on the way to Quinstin.