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The Calculator - Supervillainess Time Loop
Episode 6: Piper's Wrath [OLD]

Episode 6: Piper's Wrath [OLD]

Nothing.

There was nothing about any Piper being mentioned in the entirety of the modern era, Isabella could proudly say after hours of research. Only the Pied Piper, a fairy tale character, came up on her searches and that’s all she could find on the topic.

There was one mention of him in an obscure newspaper article mentioning the Piper as a possible crime lord, which was what she already knew.

“So this Piper guy. Why’s he after you?” asked Jessie, sitting next to her on a chair dragged from the kitchen right behind her, “You definitely pissed him off so I’m not asking about whether you did or not. I’ll ask about how, though.”

“Sent his daughter to prison,” said Isabella.

“I already regret agreeing to this,” said Jessie.

Isabella could smell smoke and it was the pungent kind, like someone was burning trash. It was coming through the small opening of the window, most definitely. The door was closed so it couldn’t be coming out of anywhere else.

“Be a darling and close the window, won’t you?” asked Isabella as she sipped on the cup of instant coffee in her hand, enjoying the gentle warmth that warmed up her hand.

“I’m charging for my services as a maid,” grumbled Jessie.

“Money isn’t an issue, but if you’re charging for that, you’ll have to wear the frilly outfit as well. Of course, I’ll be paying for it,” she said and closed the laptop a tad bit too hard. Not enough to damage it, but enough for it to be heard across the room.

There was an odd silence resting over the area. Isabella could frequently hear dogs barking or cars blazing past all the time, but that wasn’t present at the moment. There was no sound of Jessie closing the window as well, as if everything had stopped.

“I think your car’s broken,” said Jessie.

“My car is what?” hissed Isabella and promptly stood up.

“Yeah, pretty sure it’s yours. The plate number matches,” added Jessie, and Isabella rubbed her forehead as she walked over to the window, and peeked out.

There stood her car, or rather, another car stood on top of hers. It didn’t change the fact that her car was there. It just meant that it was under another car and that the top of her car was smashed into smithereens, the glass nowhere to be found. To make it worse, the car atop hers was a Land Rover —a massive car compared to hers.

How it got there was a mystery.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Isabella hissed.

“Bet you didn’t calculate that,” said Jessie with a dumb grin.

“I knew there was a possibility,” said Isabella and promptly turned around, to hide her facial expression, “But I did not expect them to actually do it.”

“So there are things even you don’t expect,” said Jessie and scoffed, “So much for winning the moment you start something.”

“Obviously,” growled Isabella and started pacing around the room, her hands behind her back, and she started a monologue as she wildly swung her hands around with every sentence, “Do you expect a meteor to come falling down all the time? No one does that. Because it’s utterly ridiculous. The chances of something like that happening is little to none and that might as well be impossible. But it happens. I’m ready for such a scenario. Hell, I plan for it in case it happens but you can’t stop the mandatory ‘Oh, shit. It actually happened!’ from leaving your mouth.”

It was a blatant lie, but her image had to be kept up.

“I was kidding,” said Jessie, hands raised slightly, as if to push Isabella back.

“I’m pissed,” said Isabella and grumpily walked out of the room. Then she slammed the door behind her.

There was nothing about the Piper and he probably ordered for her car to be smashed.

If whoever did it came in, she’d put a bullet in their forehead or-

No, she was being too emotional. Anger never brought anything good. She had to be calm and collected. Had to look like she had everything under control. So Isabella walked up to the counter and grabbed a knife.

She brought it to her neck.

Loop.

“I think your car’s broken,” said Jessie.

It was excellent timing —it brought her just where she needed to be.

Isabella put her game face on, which was a small smirk.

“There’s a car on top of it,” said Isabella.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” said Jessie instead of her this time, “How? You’re a goddamn Warper.”

“I calculated it,” said Isabella.

“Nuh-uh, that’s bullshit. That’s bullshit of the highest degree. There’s no way you’ve seen that coming,” said Jessie and shook her head.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe but I knew it would happen. And that means we strike back,” said Isabella and put emphasis on the last word, as if spitting it out like it was the most disgusting thing in the world, “What size do you wear?”

“What?” asked Jessie.

“Shoes. Have you seen a bodyguard wearing heels before?” asked Isabella, “I’ll give you something to wear if you have the same size as me. And a suit. That skimpy dress is too eye-catching.”

“No,” said Jessie promptly.

“Excuse me?” asked Isabella and promptly turned around.

“I’m wearing the dress,” said Jessie.

“That’s too revealing,” said Isabella.

“Don’t care. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it,” said Jessie quickly. So quick that you’d think of her as a rapper if you didn’t know better, and Isabella didn’t, so she might as well have been one without Isabella noticing.

But it was cold.

“Fine,” said Isabella and turned around, then opened her wardrobe.

Most of them were suits.

She liked them.

They were modest and looked professional, not to mention clean. It didn’t show off anything and more importantly, it was warm despite looking light. With how much Isabella disliked bulky clothes, it was no surprise that she wore suits even more nowadays.

Michigan was cold.

It was odd how moving a few hundred miles north affected the weather so much, and to think that she’d be living amidst snow in just a month felt almost surreal. Like she was in another country, but then again, she was a country away by European standards.

“You need more color in there,” suggested Jessie from the side.

“I don’t. And you need a jacket to wear over that. It’s cold out,” said Isabella and grabbed one of her jackets, and tossed it her way.

She liked her black and white clothes. There was one white suit with a black shirt underneath but that was all of it.

“Ah, not really. I don’t really get cold anymore,” said Jessie, “I don’t feel pain either.”

“And you’re telling me this now?” asked Isabella.

“You never asked,” said Jessie and then added after a few seconds, “And you never told me about your ability. Why should I tell you about mine?”

“Because-” started Isabella but closed her mouth. Then she thought, “Because my power isn’t useful for whatever situation we get into. Yours is. Not being able to feel pain means you can do riskier things.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Jessie and slowly shook her head, “If I get injured, I don’t know it. Out of nowhere, I could die from internal bleeding or a bullet being somewhere it shouldn’t be. And I wouldn’t even know.”

“All the more reason for you to wear something, then. You might be dying without even knowing it,” said Isabella, “That’d be a major loss to me, and more importantly, you’ll be dead.”

“It’s not cold enough to die yet. I do my research,” said Jessie, “I’ll start wearing something when it drops below zero and it hasn’t done that yet.”

Isabella wanted to facepalm but she held back the urge to do so. If she was going to be difficult, she’d do it at her own peril. But revealing her ability for nothing would be a bad move and it wasn’t something Isabella wanted to risk.

Making it known that she knew two Supers would certainly make the Piper lash out more violently, and if he was having someone smash her car like that now, Isabella didn’t know how much worse he could do aside from trying to have whoever smashed the car come after her.

In the best-case scenario, the Piper wouldn’t be a Super and he’d only have two under his employ.

Edwin wasn’t someone that Isabella could call at her leisure and Jessie couldn’t threaten someone into submission if they weren’t particularly attached to their body. Especially if they could reverse-threaten her with their powers.

“Why are you so insistent on wearing that?” asked Isabella.

“Because it’s pretty,” said Jessie.

Isabella turned around and rubbed her forehead.

“I won’t even bother,” said Isabella and left the room for the second time with a coat-hanger in hand, but this time, she didn’t slam the door. Instead, she left it open, and instead of bolting for the kitchen, Isabella instead bolted for the sofa.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

This one had a skirt that reached her knees and it didn’t have the same leathery look to it and the shirt wasn’t meant to be buttoned, and as such, looked like the button and the buttonhole wouldn’t connect. And she’d be wearing nylons with this, which would keep her warm enough.

“Are you done yet?” asked Jessie from the other room.

“You can come out now,” she answered.

It was uncomfortable to change when someone was staring at you like a hawk. Even if they weren’t, it felt wrong —like she was exposed.

Then again, she would be exposed if she was naked.

“So, your size,” said Isabella.

“I don’t know,” said Jessie awkwardly.

That made sense.

It was the body of someone else, and probably one that she took over only yesterday. There was no way for Jessie to determine what size that she wore.

“Try my shoes on. Those heels won’t work without a car,” said Isabella and let out an inaudible sigh.

If she was paying someone professional, then it would probably have been far smoother. Only business talks and whatnot, but the impression that Jessie gave off was like a roommate that loved partying a bit too much despite only being with her for less than a day.

That was a far too familiar feeling but her roommate from her college days was barely home.

But she had the bright idea of picking up someone at a casino after almost threatening them, feeding them more lies than most people heard in a month within a single hour, and then bringing her home for some reason.

Putting her in a hotel was a better idea.

“So what’s your plan? Going in guns blazing and hoping you’ll get him?” asked Jessie.

“We’ll meet someone. What happens after that depends,” said Isabella and let out a far deeper sigh than before, “It’ll hopefully go alright.”

The only lead she had to the Piper was Mr. Green if you excluded Giselle, and visiting her at Stormpits would be inconvenient if not outright impossible. It’d mean she had to wait a bit after scheduling as well, meaning it’d be close to impossible to get to her immediately.

But Mr. Green was close.

***

Neptune High had decent security.

Or rather, it put on a show of having that: the entire campus was encircled by tall fences that you couldn’t possibly climb on top of if you weren’t trained to do that. The only way you could enter was through the small building where the guards were in and had to put your belongings through a baggage inspection device like the ones at the airport, and after that, you had to walk through a metal detector.

They were supposed to keep guns out, but it was faulty.

Maybe it was only faulty when it was Giselle that brought the gun, though.

The gate for cars was only opened when there was a delivery while the outside parking lot was the one used by employees and parents alike. Even the principal parked her car there.

Walking to the school was annoying, even if Isabella only lived two miles away. Driving there was simpler and more importantly, it’d mean she’d have somewhere to put her stuff after picking them up.

Calling for an Uber was the only choice she had if she wanted to bring her stuff back home, it seemed.

“I might need some help carrying my stuff,” said Isabella after she passed by the metal detector that was the de facto entrance of the school, “There’s a lot of it.”

“I’ll go,” said the so-called good cop who’d been on duty when Mr. Green came up to declare Giselle innocent before.

“Actually, I think Mr. Green would be better,” said Isabella and gave him a wink, and after rolling his eyes, Mr. Green climbed back to his feet almost in slow-motion, “Since we have something to talk about.”

“Alright, then,” said the good cop and took a seat. Then he gave a sheepish wave as the duo left the entrance.

Jessie was in a nearby Costco, gathering some rations since they were running out of food —just like a roommate. It was a refreshing throwback to a time when she had nothing to worry about other than her grades.

But they’d both be staying at Isabella’s for the time being.

“So? Here to threaten me again?” asked Tony the moment they closed the door behind them, “I lost my side hustle thanks to you. What more do you want?”

“That’s all? I’d expected you to be killed or something. That’s what the TV says about crime bosses,” said Isabella after a scoff.

“Get to your point,” hissed Tony.

“Fine, then. I want the whereabouts of the Piper,” said Isabella.

“He lives in the penthouse at the top of Atlantis,” said Tony.

“That’s… all?” asked Isabella after a few seconds, her brain failing to process what had happened. She’d expected to do a lot more threatening and bullying the man to get that information out of him, but it ended up being far too easy.

“Look, you creep me out. If you want to meet your maker, I’ll gladly lead you there. Not to mention that threat you’ll throw my way if I don’t do whatever you say,” said Tony and shook his head after sucking his teeth, “But fair hint. The Piper is a Super and your Magneto mightn’t beat him.”

Shit.

So the Piper was a Super?

“So you don’t want me dead, after all? You wouldn’t have told me that if you wanted me to,” said Isabella as her smirk widened to the point of a grin.

“I have a conscience,” hissed Tony through his teeth, “I doubt you do and I’m not looking forward to seeing if you do.”

“Aww, how sweet of you?” said Isabella and gave him a pat on the back, “You wouldn’t be as kind as to tell me exactly what power he has, would you?”

“No one knows. They know they met him and what he told them, but no one remembers what happened in there,” said Tony and he pulled the door open with a single tug, which was better than what most did. It was one of those heavy doors that you underestimated no matter how many times you tried and had to apply steady pressure to open, “I’d warn you to stay away from him but you probably wouldn’t heed my warning.”

So some sort of ability that messes with memories?

That was a dangerous one and its interaction with her time loop was ambiguous so approaching the Piper was out of the question. Swapping bodies triggered the loop and being shot or damaged did, but if it directly messed with her memories, it’d be a bothersome one to deal with.

If she could deal with it at all.

“How much did he pay you?” asked Isabella.

“And why is that your business, again? Are you secretly the daughter of another crime lord or anything?” asked Tony as he shook his head, a wry grin on his face, “Stop, don’t tell me. He paid me a grand for each job. The easy ones, though. His men do the hard ones.”

“Like stacking a car on another one,” said Isabella.

That pissed her off.

Even if she managed to hide her reaction from Jessie by looping back, there was that pent-up frustration just waiting to explode in her chest.

“That’d be Goldilocks, a black kid with dreads. A few of them are golden, and I mean golden. You can see them glistening. Can’t miss him,” said Tony and stopped before the stairs, looked up and after a groan, started scaling it, “Guns don’t work on him so he acts all sassy.”

That meant it was a Super that had an Enhancement power, probably one that dealt in strength. It was obvious from how they’d done that but there was always the possibility of someone like Edwin manipulating the car on top of hers.

With overuse, the Super’s hair color started to change so at that point, hiding it would be a bother so they either go public with their powers and do something that benefits the world, or they join the deadly game that Supers are so prone to playing —fighting each other.

Isabella’s hair had a visibly brown tint before but now, that had lessened.

But they’d been using their powers every day for the last three months, and Isabella had only used it for the last few days.

That meant it’d take a while for her hair to change color.

“The other one?” asked Isabella, “The principal said he had two on his payroll.”

“I’m not Google,” said Tony and made a sudden stop, then turned around, “So what’s the job?”

“I never mentioned a job,” said Isabella slowly, and more importantly, shamelessly. She would’ve gotten to it at some point, but not so fast —it was too sudden and she couldn’t articulate it properly.

“But you will. What is it?” asked Tony and looked at Isabella, which didn’t pass as a look with his shades on, and as if to explain, he added, “You wouldn’t be asking for my fee if you weren’t.”

“For later,” said Isabella, at a loss as to what else to say.

Did Edwin and Jessie feel like this when she did that to them?

There was the seed of a plan struggling to grow within her head, but she didn’t know what kind of plan it’d grow to be. It was still too early to hire Mr. Green without a proper plan in mind, especially with how dangerous this Piper seemed now.

If he could modify memories, then it’d mean that he could brainwash anyone that she sent after him, including her if he came close.

That was disgusting.

It was oddly quiet the rest of the way to the teachers’ room and the teachers’ room was empty save for Mrs. Quagmire dashing out after grabbing some exam materials.

The midterms were starting this week. She’d prepped her materials and left them for whatever teacher would be taking her place, and that was why she’d managed to get her full pay for November, more than half of which she’d used for gambling but she’d managed to increase it.

Isabella pulled out a large grocery bag from her inside pocket and placed it in Tony’s hand and pointed at Mr. Adler’s table, on which one corner was filled with her stuff. There were two wooden pencil holders, one of them full of pens and the other full of pencils, a scissor, and other miscellaneous stationery that you’d find in a teacher’s office.

There was a bunch of paper that was no longer needed, so she threw them in the garbage bin, almost filling it up. Emptying it was the business of whatever janitor came into the room next and not her responsibility.

The thought of scrambling everything on the desks came through her head but faded quickly.

That wouldn’t even be fun, just evil.

“Your car’s gone, right?” asked Tony and Isabella nodded.

Just when she expected him to ask how she’d get all of this home, the corrupt security guard said something completely out of the ordinary.

“Then… your home’s probably gone now,” he said.

“What?” asked Isabella and closed her eyes, then she bit her lips.

“That’s what the Piper does to people that pissed him off. He breaks your car first. When you leave your house, he burns it down. Then he closes down your bank accounts and you lose all your money. After that, your phone stops working because your plan is canceled. The only thing that’s still on your name is a massive debt,” said Tony and gulped, “You should’ve left when you had the chance.”

“He did what?” she shouted, “How?”

“No one knows,” said Tony with a frown.

“Fuck!” shouted Isabella and tossed a pencil holder across the room. Then she tossed another one to the wall and threw an office chair to the ground, resulting in it breaking apart, “Fuck!”

“Calm down,” said Tony.

“Screw that asshole,” growled Isabella and she tossed another pencil holder at a wall, and that one wasn’t hers. All its contents scattered across the ground and made the floor a deadly trap for anyone that stepped on it, “Fuck! Fuck him!”

“Calm down,” said Tony.

“No,” said Isabella. Then she said it again, but this time, it was nothing more than a hiss, “No.”

“Look. I’ll have to stop you if you do it one more time,” said Tony and stepped closer, hands raised in the air.

“Stand back,” said Isabella, pointing a finger at him, a glint of bloodlust in her eyes, “Take one more step, and believe me, you’ll be sorry.”

Isabella pulled the metal locker down to the ground and that made a sound that reverberated across the entire school, drawing everyone’s attention.

She heard the door open but a pen was already jabbed into her neck.

Loop.

“You should’ve left when you had the chance,” Tony finished his explanation.

“Who’s the other Super?” asked Isabella.

“Look, I know you’re pissed-” started Tony but Isabella stopped him. She’d grabbed his ear and dragged his head down, forcing him to lose balance and fall to his knees with an ouch.

“Now,” said Isabella.

“Stop it,” growled Tony, answering her harsh tone with one just as harsh. After she did, he took a deep breath and let it out, as if recovering from the pain, “The other one’s called Crest. He can control his bones. That’s all I know.”

Isabella kicked Tony in the gut as hard as he could and that’s when it happened.

Loop.

Maybe her ankle broke or her toes, but she was back to the very moment that Tony finished his explanation and Isabella found herself breathing far harder than she remembered, her fists clenched as hard as possible.

For a few seconds, Isabella tried to keep calm.

But she couldn’t.

“Fuck!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, and rather than her slightly low voice, it was a high-pitched screech that did, “I’ll kill him.”

Isabella turned to Tony, raised her fist, and held it there for a few seconds. Then she pulled it down.

No.

It wasn’t Tony’s fault. He just told her what she needed to know. He couldn’t take the fall for something he didn’t do.

But she didn’t care.

Not yet.

This was just another imperfect loop.

It’d be gone.

So Isabella slapped Tony with the back of her hand, almost like she was supposed to. Like it was Tony’s job to be standing there to take the beating —like she had the right to be doing that.

Then she punched him, perhaps far harder than he should’ve been punched.

Loop.

That let her calm down but she was still breathing hard.

Hitting something helped her calm down, though.

Isabella put both hands behind and like she had a plan, she put a smirk on her face and with closed eyes, turned around —having her eyes remain closed for ten seconds after a loop was a habit now.

Her body was shaky, and that was alright. No matter how perfect, it’d make sense for her to be royally pissed off at the asshole.

“Are you lying?” asked Isabella as calmly as possible, but her voice was slightly shaky.

Refraining from jabbing a pen into her neck for another loop was taxing.

“Are you lying?” she repeated, but this time, she paused between each word, like they were separate sentences.

“No,” said Tony and gulped.

“Good,” said Isabella and walked right past him. She stopped in front of the door, calmly opened it, and gave him a command, “Throw my stuff in the trash. I don’t need them.”

Then she calmly closed the door behind her.

No, it wasn’t calm at all.

Rather, it was slow. As if she was refraining from trying to break the handle —the best she could manage.