The Vespidian

Arc 1 Contamination

Chapter 2

My mind wandered as I went through the motions, throwing my clothes to the side and stepping into the shower. I forgot to let it heat up and regretted it instantly, but it did drag away what little grogginess I was feeling. Shivers ran rampant. The hot water came at last, allowing me to think. At first, it was what was wrong with my life, which, well, there was a lot of stuff in there. Not the worst off, but it certainly could be a lot better.

Then I remembered the news. I mean, really, if I had superpowers, I would not do something stupid like robbing a bank. That is just begging to get caught. Well, I would join the good guys, first of all. You get a license to beat the living shit out of criminals. It would be like living in a video game. I would have a bitchin costume and show off my boobs and ass. I would never let myself get out of shape, either. Could probably make a living as a model when I got bored of beating baddies.

Then again, I doubt I could handle that kind of responsibility. I mean, in games, I am never a nice person. It is part of why people watch me. The way I see it is if you are weak, you deserve to have your shit stolen from you. Not in real life, of course. That is some scumbag shit, stealing from others. I mean, they worked hard to earn that. Although knowing me, I might get carried away and treat life like a game if I was a Super. Yeah, definitely need to avoid that. Supers are cool, but they are fucking scary too. Especially the Subhumans down there in the Slums. The animal people are a real problem, especially on the full moon. Even Dad tries not to leave the house after dark when it is that time of the month. The Blood Moon.

After a short while, the shower stopped, and I stepped out to find that I looked like a certain girl who crawled out of a well. The brush got caught in the tangled mess of hair, but after wrestling with it, the sleek black gloss was perfectly straight and shiny. It reminded me of doll hair, which was exactly what I aimed for. It even smelled of lavender. I coiled the towel and retreated back to my room. The laundry needed to be done. A pair of jeans I wore the other day didn't smell too funky, but it would have to do until I could wash everything.

I wore my Captain Metal shirt. He is my favorite hero, well, local one anyway. My absolute favorite would be The Fast… so what if he is Asian and looks like a boy band member. He is cool, I swear. He is the fastest man alive. He can literally run around the world in less than two hours. Not all Supers were terrible people; that's why we called the good guys Heroes.

At any rate, back to Captain Metal, his superpower revolved around sonic technology. He could make just about anything. He has a hoverbike that uses sound waves to create lift. Then he has his frequency rifle that can pierce steel or be used as a bean bag gun. I think his only weakness would be a sound vacuum or something like that. Or if you caught him without any of his gear.

Then again, secret identities are sacred to the super community. Most try not to reveal who is behind the mask and don't take kindly to it if somebody reveals a secret identity. I heard on a forum once that the whole super community will descend on the dumb fuck who spills the beans. I am not just talking about the heroes, the villains too. This one time, a reporter in South America revealed some Villain's identity. The next day his body was found in his apartment room, dildos shoved in every orifice and a scorched tire track going up the wall before vanishing into the ceiling.

Apparently, it was the doing of some guy called Demonrider. He is kind of a big deal down there. He is more or less the drug overlord, and it is very foolish to piss that crazy guy off. If the rumors were true, he has a cocaine-powered superbike and a harem of demon bitches. I would assume that said skankubi were responsible for the adult toys. They are infamous, and I heard of them, which says something since I usually avoid the outside world. Supers are kinda scary if you think about it. That would be a good part of why I don't go out much. There are crazy people out there.

The trash was more of a challenge than predicted, and it took a full three trips to get it all out. A brisk spring breeze swept by the desolate street. My house was in the boonies, but my Dad had five acres. Good luck getting that in the city limits. It gets frigid out here; even with the sun out, the snow still lingered at higher elevations, which means we are right in the middle of February. It was the eighth. I should really check that. A lack of a jacket made this a very short excursion, and I closed the door. Dad sat on the couch, still watching the news. It was about the weather now, and a quick glance revealed yet another storm coming in either tomorrow morning or the day after.

Dad was always nice before he went to work, which was very soon since it was already passed five, and he was the bouncer at the nightclub Atomic Strobe. He just sat there patting me like I was some cat or something and didn't say a word the whole time. He didn't need to. I knew he loved me, even if we got into little yelling matches occasionally. I liked it when he was like this, just quiet and calm.

"Hey, Dad, when is Mom coming home?" I asked.

"I am not sure. You know your mother; she is always busy with those idols due to the Star Agency. I hear Isabelle is giving her lots of trouble."

"Yeah, I know. I wish she was home more often, though."

Dad just had a distant look on his face and kept petting me, "So do I. But you know your Mom, and she can't stay still for long."

"Yeah, but when was the last time we all sat down for dinner?" I asked.

Dad thought on it for a little, then smiled, "How about when she gets home, we go out for a nice dinner?"

"Oh?" I said eagerly; food was one of my weaknesses, "Where are we going?"

"I will ask Caroline where she wants to go."

"But then it not a surprise, Dad."

"Good point. Ah, I know. I will cook us up a nice dinner."

"Dad, you not gonna wear the apron, are you?"

"What is wrong with my apron?"

I glanced at the red apron with a pink heart that said, "Whats Cooking Good Looking?"

"It is cringe Dad; look at that thing. And you complain about the Moon Sailors!" I scoffed

"What? This is why you don't get a boyfriend. Nothing is sexier than a man making his woman food."

"Dad, you are too much, you know that?"

He chuckled a little, and then his phone's alarm went off. It was time for him to go to work. Our time together was all too short. As much as I love my Dad, I also love my time to myself. Go, go on, you old man you. He pulled on his leather jacket and made for the door.

"Good night," I told him, and he grinned and said the same.

"Night, Vesper. Don't stay up all night."

"I won't." I crossed my arms, looking away from him. I don't know if that was a lie since I had no reasonable sleep schedule.

Then Dad was gone, and Mom was away on a business trip, as usual. So once more I will be all alone until tomorrow morning. I idly piled my clothes into the washer, threw in a cup of detergent, and turned it on. My head hurt. It was weird, like a stabby pain behind my eyes in the middle of my brain. I may have been staring at screens for too long. I sat down with my back to the machine as it spun. The vibrations wormed through me. It was like a nice massage as I sighed, closed my eyes, and enjoyed it. I zoned out for a long while, and then it beeped at me, signaling that it was done. I went about stuffing the clothes into the dryer and turned it on.

I flopped down on the couch. It was an old thing, but it was soft, and I sunk into it. Maybe Dad was right, and I should try out for the women's baseball team. Although I doubt, I could make the cut. My shape is not exactly prime these days. At this point, it was filled with the cream of the crop pro athletes or at least junior athletes. As such, competition would be brutal. I should start doing some running again. Squats would definitely do me some good. Help my figure, too, for the stream, so… yeah, it's a win-win. Ah, dammit, I just took a shower and here I am thinking about getting all sweaty and gross again. Ten minutes, then I will go out there.

I idly flipped through the TV channels; nothing was really on. There were reruns of Moon Sailors, but I was not feeling in the mood for that amount of gay. Don't get me wrong, the guys are fucking hot. I did not feel like hearing them scream love and peace while fighting skanky-looking space bimbos. I would be watching it if it was a new episode. I surfed about until an interview with Captain Metal popped up. He was in costume, like always. You could see his muscles under his jumpsuit. He was sleek, thin, and well-defined. He had a cape with the local hero's branch logo, a B with two overlapping circles covering it. His helmet covered all, but his lower jaw and mouth.

He chatted away with some frizzy-haired reporter about the recent villain who had been captured. Some scumbag from one of the local gangs. Seems he was robbing a pawn shop and got nabbed. Don't particularly care, and that sorta thing had nothing to do with me.

I shook my head vaguely, wondering what the hell to do now. I thought of playing some more Shattered Realms, but I was a little burnt out on it. To me, the Internet was an escape, but I had promised to stay away from it, no more day-straight marathon dungeon runs like I had been doing before. Hmm. Wait, it is sort of a job I mean I am making a bit of money doing it, and it is fun. I looked at my phone. 6pm. Wait, 6! Ah shit. I need to get back in there and stream more.

First, I gotta get all dolled up, so I can make some money off those horny bastards. Gotta get that simp money. I quickly headed to the bathroom. I padded the concealer under my eyes to cover up the bags. As usual, it took two layers. Fluffed up my eyelashes and got my lips nice and red. Looks about right, I observed in the side mirror. Wait. I gonna be wearing a fucking VR helmet; why the fuck am I doing my face? I tossed my clothes to the side and attempted to fit into my tight leather jumpsuit.

Yeah, that is right, it is basically bondage gear, and I got a whip too. You can find some great things on the Internet. I floundered about on my bed, fighting it so that I could zip it up. Oh, tighter than I remember. Fuck, definitely laying off the junk food. That was harder than it should have been. Finally, I got it up and felt the air get squished out of my chest. Not really surprising since it had a corset. Fit like a glove. I stretched, wiggling and getting it loosened up so that it would be tolerable to wear for a few hours. I had boots, but I don't think that I need to wear them. Much comfier not wearing them. Where is that damned hat? It was on the stand with my red and black cape. I fastened it to a brooch, buckled on the VR helmet, and plopped my leather cap on. What can I say? I like to dress up, and I imagine myself as a Super when I do. I figure this is what it is like having a costume anyway. DaDaDa, to save the day! Pfft, like that would ever happen.

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Checked myself in the camera. Alright, am I forgetting anything? Not that I can think of. Spasm started up.

"Hey, hey people, Malachite Queen here. How are we all doing this evening?" I greeted my audience.

The chat lit up with lots of comments and greetings. Bit spams started popping up with their messages attached. Most were well-intentioned and friendly though a few bad ones were snuck in there. Everything was looking good, but then an odd message appeared.

"How is Bronson? I hear there are tons of subhumans there."

I stopped for a long moment. Did I ever mention where I lived? I tilted my head a bit, thinking on it, and could not recall. I must have let it slip at some point. Well, not like I am trying to keep what city I live in a big secret or something. I don't even go out, really, so not like I will get assaulted by raving fans.

I nodded, "Yeah, we got a lot here. They are down in the south of the city, down in the Slums. I never go down there, so I don't know much about them. The full moon is a bit hectic, though, and sirens are always loud those nights. Part of why I don't stream on the full moon."

"Tell us more."

"What the Slums? Eh, well, there is a gang down there called the Mad Dogs. They are all subhumans, and they are a bit dangerous." I tapped at my helmet, thinking on it, "I believe the leader is called Glitter Kitten? Pretty sure she's a cat girl or something. I try not to get involved with super stuff if I can help it."

"Bronson… isn't that the place with the rats as big as dogs?"

"Maybe? I don't know. Haven't seen it myself, so can't say for sure. I mean, I know that there are a lot of irradiated animals down in the Slums. At the bottom of the Slums is a nuclear power plant that melted down like 10 years ago. That whole area is off-limits. Even the local heroes avoid going down there."

As our little chat was going on, the lights flickered. The VR helmet went black as all the power went out, leaving me in the dark. I pulled the helmet off, finding that it wasn't just my computer that went out. The whole room was dark. Odd. Very odd. Was it a rolling blackout? That didn't seem right. It wasn't even Spring yet, let alone Summer. A rattling noise started soft, then the room shook, things flopping off my shelves, and I teetered about in my chair, pushing back away from anything that might come down on me.

It was an earthquake.

As quickly as it had come, the quake subsided. Overall it had been relatively mild, maybe a 4.0. Living in California on a fault line, one tends to get used to them. Nothing serious unless it is at least 5.0. I waited in silence, hearing car alarms going off down the street. The light flickered back on after about ten minutes, and I scooted back to my desk. Tapping at my computer, I fired it back up, and it rebooted. All the apps and stuff were just as they had been. Well, almost all of them. Spasm wasn't working.

What the hell? It was stuck on the eternal loading screen. I shut it down and started it again, but nothing. I opened the browser to check Ichigo's website. The swirly thing of doom popped up. It took only a few moments to see that I had no Internet connection… son of a bitch! I did not just spend twenty minutes getting dressed up for this shit. I stormed up the stairs to poke at the Internet router. I stared in horror as I stared at the place where the normally blinky lights were. It had fallen off of the table and exploded on the floor. Oh, fuck me.

I called my Dad, "Hey, Dad, we need a new router. The old one got smashed!"

"I will get one after work."

"But Daaaad, I need my Internet! I was going to make money, and I took a shower and everything. Come on Daddy."

"I am not leaving work early to get you a router. Go for a run or something," he replied and hung up.

Well, fuck! There goes my day. I guess my chat will just have to wait until tomorrow. Man, I wanted spending money. They consistently pay a bit when I dress up. My ass sunk into the couch while I brooded over how to get a connection again. Shit, I can't think of anything. It is so stuffy in here. I stretched and decided that I really should go for a run. It might clear the air and help me think. It had been a long time. My hand almost opened the door, and precisely what I wore came to mind. Can't go running in something like this. That is just asking to rip stuff or get a rash. Reluctantly, I took it all off and got back into my jeans and shirt.

My favorite jacket that I got for Christmas sat next to the door, hanging from the hook next to Mom's spare pea coat. Mine was a zip-up, lined with fur, and the insides were puffy and warm. It didn't help my hands, though. They were always cold. Unfortunately, I did not have mittens. Do I have bad blood circulation or something? The night air fogged my breath, and the silvery moon above twisted with the tentacles of the Spore, gazing down at the half-shadowed world. I took off down the street jogging.

The neighborhood was quiet, still as always. Nothing happened out here, nothin exciting anyway. The street was dead, not a soul to be seen anywhere. The only way anybody could tell that people were here was by the gentle glow of the house lights. Cars dotted driveways; everyone was already home or left for work by this point. The silence was calming. My feet scrabbling on the pavement was the only interruption. The rhythmic pace slowed as I bent over, catching my breath. My god, I was out of shape. It had only been two circles around the neighborhood, and I had already felt it. Back in high school, I could easily go five to six before being winded like this.

Dad, Dad was right. I really did need to get my shit together. It is no use moping around that basement. I will start running every morning, and a month from now, I will take the test to join the Baseball Team. I bet Dad will be happy to hear that. Definitely going to fail the test, but hey, gotta start somewhere. I grinned happily, walking back. The air was so chilly it felt absolutely amazing to cool me down. I will probably still do the stream on the side.

It did not take long to return home, but nothing awaited me there. No Internet and reruns on TV made for a very dull night. Dad went to work, and playing games did not feel right. Sleep was always a good option. The problem was I was not very tired. I thought for a long moment, then decided to visit my old childhood haunt. It must have been years since I last went there. While I was at it, I set off to walk the property and try to get my act together. It did not take long to arrive at my old hideaway, a fallen tree way out near the back of the property line. The gnarled stump was hollowed out where half of the tree had given way to rot long ago. The rest was still alive, standing tall like a sentinel. There was something about this place that always calmed me down. My thoughts shifted to how I ended up like this. I could have been making a six-figure salary, eh, maybe? Who knows? Life is a strange thing.

I gazed up at that giant alien jellyfish thing in the sky. Super huh, and nothing really super about me.

What does the word Super bring to mind? To most, it entailed being special, important, and better than everyone else. I would agree. My generation craved this feeling of superiority, of being unique. Why? Because all our lives, we were told by our parents, teachers, society, and ourselves that we were special, we were necessary, the main character of our own story. Anybody can be a Super, or so some say. It was only later in life, once the veil of childhood had been lifted, that the cruelty of adulthood and the reality of the world set in that I realized it was all a lie. Sure, we were all special, but there was always someone better.

Athletes? Who cares? I could name off the top of my head ten men or women who could run miles in less than thirty seconds, and they were not even the fastest. Flying, some did that too. Strength? I watched a video of a man throwing a building with his mind. This was the world of the Supers, and I am certainly not a Super in anything. What were we to do, facing such insurmountable barriers? Even if we had Superpowers, there were tiers dividing the weak from the strong. It was referred to as Rank, and they went from 1 - 10, though rankings seemed a little arbitrary and abstract since the ranking as a whole seemed a bit iffy. Near as I could tell it was more like Milestones than anything else.

We desired it so much that we would live vicariously through games, books, movies, and anything we could personify ourselves as the hero and savior. It got to the point where we idolized the very heroes who crushed our dreams, to begin with. Really, not such a bad thing considering that they fight Super Villains who want to destroy the world. There was another route, hatred. Some resented the Supers for being gifted and special and better than they ever would be through hard work alone.

They were simply jelly and wouldn't get over it. It was not fair; they would complain. Well, unfortunately, life isn't fair. Never has been, never will be. Survival of the fittest has been repressed by our advancements, but it is there always waiting, running things in the background. At some point, we have to realize there is somebody out there who will be stronger, faster, smarter, and better in every way, and that person is probably going to bone the living shit outa some other superior being, and guess what? They will have a child, and it will ninety-nine percent of the time be in the top ten percent of Swolatas. Eh, wait, that is Swolomon. Same difference; it still applies.

If I was not Super, well, I was nothing. That is just the cold hard fact of the world. It doesn't matter how talented or hard I worked; Somebody somewhere was better than me because they had a Super Power. Not really resentful it is just fucking depressing.

Even I am no exception to this. What have I done to deal with this soul-crushing realization? I gave up on the real world. I can't be Super out there, but I can be my own hero playing games and slaying the evil demon lord to save all the peoples. Well, let's be technical here. I could theoretically get powers if I, A. Throw myself into a vat of mystery goo, B. Get super rich and buy cool shit from people with superpowers; I sure as hell was not C. Born with it, or D. Got struck by cosmic rays from space, E. Get blessed by some outer god thing from beyond time and space, or F. Get mauled by a radioactive Subhuman monster, least appealing on the list, by the way.

Subhumans. That was the real disincentive from trying to get powers. They are the freaks, the monsters, the failed Supers, and unfortunately, with how radioactive the Slums were, many of them were running around down there. Dangerous is what they were. Every month they made the news, running wild and killing people with the full moon. Makes me very happy I live on the opposite side of the city. Glitter Kitten would be the most famous. Super Villain stripper that is right, a Stripper. Now, the thought might occur, 'Who the fuck would go to a strip club run by animal people?' a lot of people, actually. Never underestimate the power of horny. I think it has something to do with the fact that she has six boobies.

One bite, one misstep in toxic sludge, and bam, slum city if you looked like a freak. And that is why I don't leave the house anymore. The risks of obtaining superpowers far outweighed the reward. Not to say it is not tempting. The problem is that the odds were just not very high that something good would come from it. Superpowers were the best-case scenario; I would probably just get cancer and die in a gutter somewhere.

I was more than content with my games, movies, tv shows, manga, comics, and anime. It is taking up so much time; I don't have any to be getting into trouble. I learned life should be enjoyed, and so, I just don't give a damn. Of course, I am not a productive member of society and probably shouldn't be giving life lessons. Having a job is very fulfilling or can be soul-grinding and reduce you to being a zombie, but hey, if you are dead, then you don't gotta eat, right? Me, I am mooching off my parents. Hypocritical? Maybe, don't judge me. There are crazy people out there who could kill me with their pinky finger. So, why would I go outside?

My parents' disappointment in me has gnawed at my self-confidence ever since I dropped out, and since I did not have a degree in anything, I could not get a job that did not involve flipping burgers. I got nothing against burgers, but that is the type of job you only want for a few years. It is an entry-level job, not a career. I had no connections who could hook me up with a swanky job. A high school diploma wasn't worth shit these days, not with how bad the economy was. So I had no money and was forced to live with my parents. The upside was that I was not dumb enough to get some arts degree that would never find a job even with a good economy. So yeah, not being crushed under a student loan wasted on a useless degree was a pretty damned good feeling.

I saw what it did to a few people from the neighborhood. Joey, across the street… hung himself. We were not really that close, but fuck man. I guess he or, rather she? Was Transgender came out and didn't exactly receive a warm welcome, or so I heard. There was also the hundred thousand dollar schooling debt. I guess she couldn't take it. I don't know. Personally, I got nothing against gays or the rest of that; just not my cup of tea. Who you stick your thing in or let stick in you, well, that is your business.

Super god damned depressing. I wish I had known, I would have been her friend, and we would have dressed up and shit. Some of the weirdest, most fun people I have ever met were queerer than a three-dollar bill. Best not to think about it.

My life is not so bad if I ignore that I am twenty-five, but I can't do much about it. I could get a better job, but that would involve a lot of legwork, and it was not even close to being a sure thing. My motivation was sitting at a cold sub-zero. I had better things to do with my time than fruitless job hunting, like streaming my exploits of SR, LL, and Swolomon to my rabid Spasm fan base of a hundred people. At any rate, it is neither here nor there.

Hours passed in dead silence. It was peaceful and serene, just me, the night, and the giant translucent alien tentacle monster in the sky. This was just what I needed, no distractions, just time to organize everything. Finally, I was going to get my shit together. Tomorrow I will start my training. Sexy booty, here I come!

I grinned, looking up at the night sky. It is funny how a single moment could change my life so dramatically. A car accident suddenly ripping my life apart. Just out of the blue, out of my control. But then there are other times when you wander onto the train tracks. You ignore all the warnings and walk out, then when the train hits you, you have only yourself to blame. This would be one such defining moment, though I did not know it yet. My life was about to become a circus fire.