CLAIRE

Wow, Julien's right, I really am an idiot, I thought as I opened the trapdoor to the second floor hallway. I'd grabbed my fiberglass replica of a sword from my main in Mage Sword that I propped against one of the walls. In my defense, it was surprisingly heavy and I'd once accidentally given Grace a black eye when swinging it around at a sleepover.

And besides, a part of me wondered if it was maybe Julien or something, and they didn't have their key and didn't hear me—

I can hear you groaning and see you facepalming now.

Anyway, I crawled down the ladder, somehow managing to not fall with the giant sword prop in my arms.

I slowly headed down the hallway, trying to remember some more practical tips I found from a video I found on a late-night YouTube rabbit hole dive. I held the sword up with one hand, ready to adjust to having a two-handed grip as I carefully descended the stairs.

I realized as I listened that someone was in Dad's special office, where all his comic book stuff and Mom's was stashed.

Why would anybody be looking in there?

I mean, I am a nerd, I know how much certain props and editions and stuff can go for— and how much they cost in the first place. But still, it was all in a windowless room and was only seen from the outside in the form of cardboard boxes going in and out of the moving van two years ago. Dad didn't exactly bring up his hobbies at parties— in fact, he didn't exactly go to parties period.

But the point was, no one really knew what he had, except for Dad, beyond vague stuff. So how would someone know to go looking in there?

That was when I started to really get the feeling that this wasn't a good idea. I'd already committed to it, however, and that was what we were going with.

I crept towards the intruder—a woman in a black and turquoise blue jumpsuit with lots of pockets, her choppy dark hair left loose.

That admittedly made me do a double-take— the costumes of Dr. Electra and her henchmen were distinct and infamously recognizable.

What's one of her minions doing here?

I flattened myself against the wall, ready to strike with my sword when I noticed that she wasn't just taking anything— no, she was looking for something, I realized as she searched through each drawer, taking care to put things back as she went. She didn't want anyone to know she had been here.

"It should be here—"

I sucked in a breath and I hit her in the back. She went sprawling forward, and lay still for a second.

I was internally panicking— was she dead? Had I killed her?

But I had different thoughts when she rolled onto her back, in the process pulling out a ray-gun that was identical to the one Tenebrous had wielded in the incident the night before.

"Drop your weapon," she ordered.

I let the prop sword go clattering to the ground and winced. I hoped it wouldn't have a crack in it as I put my hands up.

I really didn't think this through.

"Good," the henchwoman said as she stood up. "You stay right there, loser. I've got a job to do, and just because Boss said that the house was empty doesn't mean he was wrong about what was inside, either."

My mind was racing with the possibilities— but I wasn't about to try and interfere, powers or no.

Besides, I wouldn't even know where to start.

But I was already formulating a plan to get away so I could get back to my phone upstairs and call the police.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

She turned her head to look through a drawer— and that was my chance.

Without hesitation, I bolted, throwing the coat rack to the ground behind me as I sprinted up the stairs as quickly as I could manage, and down the hallway.

I tugged at the latch to open the trapdoor and glanced to the top of the staircase— she'd be up it any second.

It fell free just as Dr. Electra's former henchwoman reached the top of the staircase. I scrambled up the ladder without abandon as she yelled something my ears didn't process in the adrenaline of the moment.

I managed to pull the ladder up and the trapdoor right as she reached the end of the hallway. I then headed to behind my door and locked it. Never had I been so grateful that Holly had added that wall!

I dashed across to where my phone was charging on my desk—

—only to realize that I never plugged it in and it was now dead.

I whirled back around, scanning my options. I could attempt a barricade, or maybe use one of the other sword replicas I'd had—

Ah, screw it— we're out of options.

Without hesitation, I yanked open the window and screamed: "HELP!"

As I heard the sounds of the henchwoman ascending the ladder, my heart pounded.

Did anybody hear me? Does anybody hear me at all?

Just as I was preparing for a fight that I would lose, two things happened at once.

First, the door burst open after the henchwoman picked the lock.

Then Renegade teleported right next to my window, flying right through my window and rolling into one of those superhero landing poses, with one knee on the ground, and one foot out in front of him, arms raised and ready for battle.

The henchwoman's upper lip curled into a snarl. "Renegade. I knew you'd be in the neighborhood."

"Armed assault is a little more hands-on than you prefer, Menlo," Renegade shot back. "Shouldn't you be sticking to aiding and abetting other crimes?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Menlo spat. She then fired her ray-gun.

Renegade snapped his fingers, opening a portal to elsewhere, sending the ray somewhere else— and then he ran at Menlo— using a portal to kick her from behind. She stumbled forward, and then whirled around to face Renegade, right as he attempted a punch.

She blocked him and kicked high— getting him right in the chest. He fell back, and down the attic trapdoor. Menlo stood over the chute, and turned a dial on her ray-gun.

I knew I had to do something— so I charged her.

She wasn't expecting it, and we both went to the ground. I grappled with her for the ray-gun, gripping onto her like an anaconda on a Pygmy goat. I might've been as light as air and not anywhere near 'strong' but I was going to give Menlo a run for her money.

I managed to wrestle it from her, and scrambled to my feet, aiming it at her as Renegade appeared next to me, via portal.

Menlo let out a grunt of irritation. "It's been nice chatting, but I've got better things to do than stick around a bust."

Then she used her powers to yank the ray-gun right off of my hands. She flicked a switch on it and aimed the gun at herself, vanishing in a beam of light.

That left Renegade and us alone.

"Thank you," I said.

"You're lucky I was in the neighborhood." There was exhaustion in his dark eyes, and his equally dark hair had fallen into his face. "You keep getting yourself into trouble, don't you?"

"I don't ask for trouble." I shoved my hands into my pockets. "And I tried to handle it this time. Without my powers, mind you."

"You could've gotten yourself killed." There was a mixture of anger and pride in his voice. "Next time, call the police."

"I would've, but my phone's dead."

"I guess I can't fault you for that." His voice went quiet, indecipherable. And it sounded all too familiar, although I couldn't quite place it. . .

"Well, I still appreciate the rescue."

"That's good to hear." He ran a hand through his hair. "How long before someone else comes home?"

I shrugged. "Dad can work really late, and Holly can get pretty into her parties and dinners— and no one knows what Julien gets up to, anyway."

"Do you want me to stay?" Renegade asked earnestly.

I shook my head. "I'm good. Sounds like Menlo, or whatever she called herself, isn't coming back tonight."

"It doesn't," Renegade agreed. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"Once I've plugged in my phone, I will."

Renegade hesitated. "Alright. I'll see you around then, Claire."

He gave me a two-fingered salute before teleporting away.

I closed the window and got to work cleaning up. I figured no one needed to know what had happened in the house, lest someone decide I could never be let out of their sight again.

I thought it would be as easy as just picking up my fiberglass replica and picking up the coat rack I'd toppled to try and throw Menlo off. And it pretty much was— except for when I stepped inside the comic book room.

It wasn't because there was some extreme mess to pick up. A picture of Mom's photograph had the glass broken, but that was easy to sweep up and I could blame on an accident, no questions asked.

What I couldn't blame on some little accident was a drawer that was left open.

Now, Dad locked all of his drawers, mostly because he liked to keep all this stuff to himself now.

But inside this drawer was a real Super's suit. I picked up the shiny pink and white material. There were multiple pieces, with a white silk tunic that had an artsy heart emblem on it with a cape attached and various pink under pieces, with a white mask that had this kind of butterfly wing-like shape on the sides.

I frowned— I knew I'd seen pictures of this suit in one of the history textbooks or something. Not in real life, I knew that much.

I shook my head and pushed it back in, resetting the lock. I didn't even want to think about what it meant. I just wanted to clean this up and for everything super to go away.