The Unlucky Maiden.

Endwell Industrial District.

July 14th.

12:10 A.M.

The speakeasy-style tavern could be found by those who knew where to look. It was located among abandoned warehouses and dusty factories in what once was a bustling block of industrial manufacturing. The area used to never be silent as workers shuffled to and from their shifts at factories that produced goods to be shipped all over the world. Those days were long gone. Production had been outsourced, the buildings were left dormant, their workers laid off, and now the silent skeletons of once was loomed over Juliet’s head against the dark sky.

“Why are we meeting so late?” Her whisper was muffled by the mask that covered her face. Her question was directed at the other woman in the group, though their youngest member answered.

“Because it’s spookier that way. OooOOooh…” Anderson’s gloved hands came up to wiggle his fingers at her.

“Oh yeah. That spook value is incredibly important ‘round here…” Marcus’s mumbling came from behind them. He was the fourth member of the group silently making their way through the cover of darkness. He let his sentence trail off as he glanced around the curve of a large white tank left behind by whoever owned the factory closest to them. A sigh came from the shorter, curvier woman who Juliet’s question was originally directed toward.

“We would already be in there if you-know-who hadn’t lost his keys.”

A quiet snickering from Marcus ended the conversation and Juliet never found out why she had to suit up in Volt’s famous superhero garb and head into the lion’s den at a time she’d rather be in bed. As they moved through the shadows, they could feel a couple of eyes on them, although they didn’t encounter anyone. They stepped into the front entrance of an old one-story office that was covered in a healthy amount of dirt and grime. A single payphone hung from the far wall. This could be a trap. A stupid one, but still a trap. As a group, they were a force to be reckoned with.

#911. The buttons on the phone clicked as Wanda pressed them. There was silence for a few seconds before a false wall gave way to reveal a corridor going down. The group collectively gave pause, then they moved down the hallway in a strategic order: Juliet first, followed by Anderson, Marcus, then Wanda, who generated a shimmering forcefield to act as protection against anyone who might come up behind them. In the front, Juliet was prepared.

The Unlucky Maiden was owned, operated, and frequented by a very specific population in Endwell. Most were former factory workers who stuck around familiar faces and were forced to find less than reputable ways of making ends meet. But others, usually those in charge of said unsavory methods of income, were what the newspapers liked to call “villains”. Regardless, if you were in the loop, you were a criminal.

Or a group of famous superheroes, unofficially known as The Big Four.

Juliet wore her usual suit: a navy blue catsuit with grooves that ran through it. Those grooves channeled and stored the electricity her body generated. She had no extra pieces of tech or weapons; They were lucky to find someone who could even design a suit to withstand both the levels of electricity she worked with and the general wear and tear of a hero’s go-to clothing. The grooves glowed a bright white as they stepped into the bar. The place was empty. Nothing.

Nothing except a stunned looking man behind the bar and a dark figure at a back corner table. The bartender was a man in his 60s, grizzled, greyed, and missing an eye. The eye he did have glared at them, though his body language read fear and apprehension when he regarded the glowing woman and the heroes behind her. Marcus, or Major, as the two occupants in the bar knew him as, stepped around Juliet with his attention trained on the figure in the back. He slapped a large hand on the bar as he passed, mumbling a greeting to the bartender.

The group followed him and Juliet’s suit only went dark when it was clear that they were truly the only ones in the windowless bar.

“Glad to see you held up your end of the deal…” Marcus’s deep voice was also muffled by a full face mask. The group asked for a private location to discuss what they were there for. Their meeting partner was leaned back in his chair with his legs propped up on the table and arms folded across his chest.

Yami.

He was dressed in a black stealth suit complete with a hood that shrouded a masked face. Yami was known as Endwell’s very own “ninja”, as the press liked to put it. He was known mostly for impeccable hand to hand, deadly use of weapons, and merciless killing of those in his way. His head turned toward the concerned looking bartender and gave a short, reassuring nod.

Marcus sat in one of the chairs across from Yami and Juliet took the chair next to him. Anderson grabbed a chair from another table and sat a bit behind them while Wanda stayed standing and paced a bit in anxiousness she couldn’t completely contain.

“We need to get right to the point. It’s late,” Wanda spoke first with a tone close to that of a parent. “We know you’ve noticed the newcomer in your circles. What they’re doing isn’t great…” That was an understatement. Crime had gone up exponentially, the heroes were being worked to the bone, and the violence had hurt innocent people. “We suspect it’s only building up to something bigger.”

Juliet crossed her arms over her body. “You have the tech that could help us do more than play a defensive role. We’ve seen it.”

“We’re also willing to pay for your assistance…” Marcus added the appeal to Yami’s wallet into the conversation. Exactly 16 days ago, the group had figured out how to contact Yami. It was a move of pure desperation not all of them agreed with as they started to see the writing on the wall about the rising threat.

Yami didn’t move from his relaxed position. “Y’know, if you were always this late, us bad guys would never have anything to fear.” They could hear his smile even if they couldn’t see it under the covering. Their original meeting time had been 12 A.M. sharp. Right. “And please, we’re all friends here, right? Relax a little, grab a drink, no need to cut to the case. We have the place all to ourselves until morning.”

There was a quiet sigh at the mention of their lateness, though it was unclear who it came from. Not only had Anderson lost his keys, he had elected to grab tacos on the way to Marcus’s house.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

What if there’s no food there, Jules? Then what? Tacos are important.

Wanda, or Voodoo as she was known as for her forcefield generating and empath abilities, addressed the comment. “I understand we were late and I’m sorry for that but-“

Wanda was cut off by Yami turning his attention turned toward Juliet. “What about you, V-Bug? You’re telling me you can’t get a little loose and tipsy?” Now he was just having fun at their expense.

Juliet stared at him for a couple quiet beats. Her gloved fingers twitched slightly against the arm they rested on. V-bug? Get a little loose and tipsy? She wanted to come across the table at him, eyes glowing bright white, bolts of lightning coursing through her body when she wrapped her hands around his neck. People are dying. People are dying and none of us have been able to catch a break from facing that death and destruction head on. We haven’t gotten ‘loose and tipsy’ in a while because of that you little-

Nope. That wasn’t her. Juliet blinked. They had personas to uphold to everyone who viewed them: calm, collected, in charge, and unphased. It was how the public viewed them and although it was a hell of a standard to live up to, in that image was trust. Juliet was holding her breath. She was just exhausted. When was the last full night of sleep?

The woman quickly leaned forward, reached her arm out, and swept his legs off the table. Her hands came to the table, palms pressing into the wood. “You know why we’re here and it isn’t to play stupid games.” Behind her, Wanda paused her pacing as Juliet continued.

“We know what this person is doing to your world.” Large names had been dethroned and well known guys were turning up dead just in the past few months. “You can either get pulled down into the sludge by this newcomer, and believe me, you will. Or you can help us and stop their reach from extending any further.” That was what it came down to. Whoever was behind the groups acting against both civilians and criminals alike had more power and reach than any of them knew.

“You have a choice to make. But don’t think for a second that you don’t need this person stopped just as much as we do,” she said in a stern, albeit frustrated tone. Juliet sat back in her chair, leaving her hands on the table. Yami wouldn’t have met with them if he didn’t know the facts about the circumstances.

“She’s right. We’re not playing games,” Wanda added.

There was a few second stretch before Yami responded with a retort that was just as infuriating to Juliet as his prior comments.

“God, you lot are so serious all the time. I’ll help you. Just…for the love of God, lighten up a bit!”

Juliet glared at him from behind her mask. He continued.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I might want to take this mysterious person down, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to work for free. Five hundred thousand for any substantial information, a million for sabotage or surveillance, and two million for any of my tech.”

He has to be kidding.

This prompted a scoff from Wanda and a quiet “hmmm” from Anderson, which was the first sound the hero had made since they arrived. He hadn’t been on board with asking Yami for help to begin with. “Over a million," Marcus dryly responded. They all had decent bank accounts; The Big Four were paid in royalties from action figures, t-shirts, comics, and just about anything else produced for their rabid fans. Anonymously, of course. But they weren’t about to run their bank accounts dry for a guy who couldn’t even guarantee success. Juliet’s fingers tapped silently on the table and the words lingered in the air.

She spoke up again. “One hundred thousand flat,” and I don’t shoot one hundred thousand volts through your body, “and we don’t leave you to figure out what to do when you’re inevitably noticed.” She pulled her arms back and crossed them over her chest once more. Yami would be helping them, but they were offering him protection behind their lines. This person had a clear target and that was recruiting criminals and killing those who refused.

“Everyone around you is falling and you don’t think we’ve noticed. Your time is coming,” Wanda reminded.

“Forget it,” Marcus grumbled and moved to stand up from the table. His impatient form towered over them; The man was well over six feet and built exactly how one might imagine someone with super strength would look. Anderson’s voice could be heard mumbling from the back.

“I told you so…”

Wanda’s smaller form had a hand on Marcus’s arm. She directed him back into his seat. Anyone who looked at them could see how weakened the group was. Exhausted to the point of grumpiness, losing their patience with the impossible seeming situation they were in, and a house divided. The air was tense in the underground bar. Juliet kept her attention trained on Yami, but it was Wanda’s voice that came through.

“Ah, c’mon. Loosen up a bit, Yami.”

The villain’s body was posed in a relaxed way, but he looked less like he was actually relaxing and more like he was a mannequin bent and positioned in that way. Tense muscles gave away the truth of how relaxed Yami really was. His silence stretched on for several seconds, then he let out a quiet chuckle, leaned forward, and put his elbows on the creaking wooden table.

“You’re absolutely right. Here I am trying to discuss business so seriously with old friends. Shame on me,” Yami proclaimed their apparent ‘friendship, “100k for helping my pals seems fair enough. Deal?” He punctuated his statement with a sly question and extended a hand toward Juliet.

She nearly let out a sigh of relief when the offer was accepted. Juliet hadn’t been sure how the lowball offer was going to go despite the words of truth that came with it and, secretly, she had been nervous as hell. It seemed that under the cocky and overly relaxed demeanor, Yami wasn’t stupid. “Pals,” she repeated. “Deal.” She shook his hand with a shake laced with a static-feeling that was similar to rubbing a balloon across a sweater then touching a doorknob. It was enough to lace his black suit with static electricity that could only be remedied by a dryer sheet and left Yami rubbing his fingers together after their hands separated.

The group was quick to disperse after a second meeting at a different location was discussed. The heroes provided a private location that didn’t leave them in as much unknown danger as The Unlucky Maiden. Yami was encouraged to bring whatever he might already have on the newcomer.

What may have seemed like a hasty exit was only due to the fact that they wanted to go to bed. Juliet was practically dreaming of her weighted comforter and the drone of the box fan in her bedroom. By the time she made it home to her one bedroom apartment right outside the downtown area of the city and peeled the suit off her body, it was 3 A.M. Her body ached and parts of her pale skin were discolored purple and green from previous fights. Her head pounded. Their bodies healed faster than the average non-powered person, but it never seemed fast enough.

Juliet regrettably went without a shower and elected to climb into bed and scroll through her phone. A couple unanswered texts grabbed her attention. One from Cassie, a girl she had recently met and mostly exchanged texts and funny internet links with, a couple from Max, a friend she made within her first year in the city, and one from Jakob.

Jakob had been the very first, and only, roommate Juliet had when she moved to Endwell at 19 years old. He had posted an ad online with a reasonably priced empty bedroom in a decent part of town. They clicked immediately and, seven years later, they were still best friends despite moving into their respective, solo living spaces.

The text from him was old, sent and unopened two days ago. Juliet sent a fresh one to their thread.

Movie night tomorrow? I’m still sorry about cancelling the last one…

Obviously, Jakob didn’t know about Juliet’s alter-ego and she planned on keeping it that way. He was one of the most important people in her life and she would be damned if she ever dragged him into everything being Volt entailed. He was patient with her constant flakiness, the most loyal friend she had ever had, and was under the impression that she worked an incredibly demanding job. Not a total lie.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for him to respond. Jakob had always been a night owl, something she learned when they lived together. Only a few minutes later, Juliet’s phone was buzzing.

sounds fun

Then another.

Don’t sweat it. Why are you up so late?