In Chicago, Monarch had managed to pay a pretty penny for their own building. It was sleek and new, with a sloping roof of white tiles and shining glass windows. Opulence taken to it’s logical limit. I stared at it from a coffee shop across the street, watching the people entering and exiting the building.
The coffee shop I was in was full, but there was a circle of emptiness near where I sat. I didn’t mind that overly much, though the constant stares in my direction were bothersome. I simply focused on what I was seeing.
And what I was feeling. I reached out with the lightning, my power running along the concrete, touching the world around me. It was the work of moments, the literal time a lightning bolt flies, to reach into the Monarch building. There were six floors, and as much square footage as a large mansion would have.
The lightning, however, revealed more. As I followed the lines of energy through the street and into the structure, they went up in the six story building, and below. Deep into the ground. At least three stories worth of space. It was too far for me to sense things any further, but…
I put down my coffee and stepped out of the shop, ignoring the still full cup.
The information I would need, such as the blueprints to the building and other things, was clearly going to be extremely tough to find. No one can just access the blueprints of a secretive building with impunity after all.
Thankfully, I had other options.
While I’d learned to appreciate the near-magical wonder and menace of the internet, I’d still learned a long time ago to trust the old ways. And thankfully, even though libraries weren’t visited as often, they were still around, and still very useful.
I read through dozens of newspapers, finding as much information as I could get. The library I’d found thankfully had enough from the year that Monarch had gotten started. I worked through the papers, making notes as I went. At the same time, I checked the internet for similar information, working for two hours and writing down as much as I could.
I was building a profile. Figuring out my target. I needed to understand Monarch, if they were indeed my enemies.
Soon, I had a basic idea to start off with, the strong foundations of true information to build the rest of my case.
Monarch had been founded a few years ago, in 1986, in Germany, with a chemical that could break down oil being their first breakthrough, information Eliza had already given me. The founder was a woman named Annabel Sands, and she was currently CEO. Not many photos of her could be found, but recently she’d taken a photo with the mayor of Chicago. She was a tall woman, with pinched tight face, dark black hair that was tied in a tight ponytail and green eyes. I looked her over for a moment, then opened a tap to check out more. She had a Doctorate, had been working for years in labs before establishing her company, was rather renowned in her field, and had two children from her first husband and her second/current one.
Monarch itself had been spoken of as being rather shady, from the way they’d bought the land they were currently using, the mysterious way some of their competitors shut down, and the fact that they sometimes made massive breakthroughs in the field of genetics and chemistry with no warning.
I collected all the information and put it away, leaving the library. Rather than driving, I went for a small walk. I was curious.
The man who had been following me every since I left Eliza’s house was no amateur. And yet, he had done nothing. He’d stayed in the background, didn’t eye me in any obvious way, and didn’t seem willing to do anything to me. He simply followed me around, keeping his distance.
The question was, did he work for Monarch? For all I knew, the man was working for someone else, or even just following me due to my strange appearance.
Granted, I was only wearing a warm sweater and jeans, but my size and face makes me stick out of a crowd either way.
I took a left into an alleyway, one with plenty of fire escapes. I took my phone out and put at a point in the center of the alleyway, turning on the video camera and resting it where it had a clear view and could pick up any sound easily enough. Reaching out a hand, I unleashed lightning, the bolt of white heat slamming into one of the fire escapes. The second I had control over the metal of the structure, I mentally forced the ladder to drop. It was one of a few powers the lightning in my soul gave me, the power to manipulate metal through the principles of electromagnetism. Then I ran up the ladder, going up as fast as I could, my nimble fingers driving me forward. Once at the top, I used my power to force the fire escape ladder to pull itself up, then turned to watch.
My pursuer turned around the corner, only to blink at the empty alleyway.
He was a big man, slightly overweight, wearing an expensive suit, sensible boots, and a nice watch. He was balding, but had a thick black mustache. He looked around, trying to find me, then ran towards the other end of the alley. Despite his heavy build, he managed to run quickly, apparently more fit then he appeared. I walked along the rooftop, following him calmly, my eyes on him. He reached the sidewalk on the other side, then cursed loud enough for me to hear, turning around. He took out a phone, quickly bringing up his contacts and calling someone.
I leaned over and listened while also watching his lips. Lip reading. A damn useful skill.
“Hey, it’s me,” he said as walked. “Yeah, the guy disappeared on me… No, I didn’t catch a name. But he’s huge. Gotta be eight feet. Ugly as hell too. We run a search on him we’ll find him. What do you want to do then?”
Yes, what did ‘they’ want to do? I watched as he silently listened.
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“...What about the wife and kid? Should we kill them,” despite the fact I could hear him, I managed to read his lips perfectly.
I didn’t react as I watched him pace silently.
“Are you sure? Looks a bit suspicious after we took care of her.”
Whoever was on the other line began to speak loud enough that I could hear it from the rooftop. The man winced, pulling his phone away from him. I couldn’t hear how he responded, but I managed to read his lips.
“Okay, sure. He might end up returning to them anyway. I’ll call you when it’s done. Okay, bye…” He waited awkwardly. “I mean, I was waiting for you to hang up. No it’s cool. Talk to you later,” the man hung up, turning to walk away.
I had already jumped off the roof. I fell four stories, the wind rushing past me. As he turned, I slammed into the ground, the concrete cratering beneath my feet and sending asphalt into the air. The man screamed in shock, reaching for his waist and pulling out a gun to fire.
A focused burst of my power created an invisible magnetic barrier that sent the bullet he shot bending around me to slam into a wall. I swung a hand out and threw a weak bolt of lightning that sent the man shaking to his knees. I rose to my full height and walked towards him.
The man was tough. He forced his shaking muscles and aimed his gun at me. I ripped the gun out of his hand and squeezed. The metal bent under my strength. He stared in shock, then reached into his jacket and swung out at me.
I stepped aside as a metal baton whistled through the air. I caught the baton when it aimed at my head again. He smiled viciously and pressed a button on the baton. The battery on the batons handle sent power through the baton.
I blinked lazily at him as thousands of volts entered my body, devoured by my unique chemistry. He stared, shocked.
I pulled the baton out of his hand, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him high above me.
“Now,” I growled, my voice crackling and booming with inhuman rage. I’d been calm, but now I could feel it again. The anger. The hatred that had once led me to kill innocent men, women, and children across Europe. All of it, aimed at those who would hurt Jen and her son. “Let’s talk.”
-------
“Fuck you,” the man said as I held him up.
“I’d rather kill you,” I said simply.
He glowered at me.
Reaching into his pockets with one hand, I rummaged around, ignoring him as he struggled. He kicked me in the chest. I grabbed the offending leg and twisted.
“AAAUUUUGGH!”
Ignoring his horrific scream and the snap of bone that had followed me breaking his leg, I went back to it and eventually pulled out a wallet. I flipped it open.
“Let’s see… Jaden Hofstetter. Age 38. You should really use this punch card, it’s going to be outdated soon.”
“Fuck you, fuck you man!”
“Jaden, I’m not being glib. It’s financially responsible to use the punch cards to get a free product,” disgusted, I took the card for myself, as well as the cash inside. “Now… this card says you work for Monarch. Are they the ones who killed Eliza?”
He didn’t answer. I sighed in annoyance. “Very well. I assume that your employers sent someone after Eliza’s family.”
His pupils dilated, his breath quickened. Hmm. Okay.
I took his phone, his keys, and his shoes. Then I sent more electricity pouring through him. He screamed, loud and hard. Once done, I broke his other leg and both his arms before walking over to the phone I’d left to record everything. A quick press to stop the recording, then I began to replay it. Soon, I reached the section where he was talking on the phone. It hadn’t picked up everything perfectly, but he’d been close enough for the phone to record the part where he’d been given the order to kill Jen and Sammy.
With that, I left him on the ground and walked away.
It was for the sake of cruelty. I wanted to leave him as immobile and incapable of moving as possible, so he couldn’t attack anyone else. I took out a burner phone and called 911 as I rushed to my car. Soon the line answered.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Yeah, I just found a man with his arms and legs broken in an alley. He needs help,” I said, reaching my car and climbing in.
On the plus side, at least I’d found out who had killed Eliza.
Driving to Eliza’s home was the work of minutes. I rushed through traffic and reached it just as night fell across the city. On arriving, I hopped out of my rented car, leaving the engine running and simply sprinting to her home.
After some frantic knocking, Jen opened the door, looking surprised, then dismayed to see me. “Oh. Hel-”
“Eliza was killed,” I said briskly, brushing past her to enter the house.
“What?” she was so stunned that she didn’t even realize I’d used my inhuman agility to breeze past her until I was in the house.
“E-Excuse me-!”
“The people who killed her have been following me, probably worried that I was continuing her investigation. When I shook their pursuit, they decided to attack you and Sammy.”
“W-What?” Jen looked stricken, not understanding.
“Go upstairs, take Sammy, hide in the bathtub,” I strode around the house, eyeing the windows and marking the points of entry.
“What the hell are you talking about!?” Jen finally screamed, rushing after me as I entered the kitchen. “Get out of my house!”
“I have a recording,” I took out my phone and showed it to her. Soon, the video began to play.
“What about the wife and kid? Should we kill them?”
The words were quiet, barely hearable. But Jen might as well have been hit by a hammer. She stared, uncomprehending.
“W… I don’t-”
“Jen,” I said softly as I could. She looked up at me, her hands going up to her face. “They will be coming. I can stop them but you need to protect Sammy. Sammy is in danger. Go protect him.”
“H-How can I trust you?” Jen asked, her voice shaky.
I felt a rush of sympathy. She had lost her wife barely a day ago. And now a monster had rushed into her life, pushing more fear onto her shoulders. Few could stand under such stress.
“You can’t,” I admitted at last. “But Eliza was kind to me. I will work to protect the ones she loves,” I took off my sweater and walked to the center of the house, my pale muscles shining beneath the lights around me. I stood there for a moment, holding my sweater. “Go upstairs. Call the police. They should be here by the time it’s over.”
Jen stared at me, undecided.
That was when the grenade was thrown into the window.
“Aaahhh!” Jen screamed.
“Go, now!” I shouted.
Jen sprinted up the stairs as the grenade began to expel smoke. Ripping the sweater up, I wrapped my face in the torn shreds, covering my mouth and nostril as the smoke rose into the air and began to obscure everything. The tear gas began to burn my eyes but that was mild. Mustard gas was far more painful.
Soon, men in dark clothes rushed into the home. I ducked into the smoke and got ready.