The Scum Ch 1

She had one task, find the five most disgusting humans inhabiting the United Planet Earth (U.P.E). The Child went out with a list, wrinkled from being in her pocket, given to her by her father, The Superior. She was to bring all five of them to the Old Chicago headquarters for a special assignment. Each of these scum bags possessed skills needed to save the world from losing every last one of its super heroes.  Ever since the world war about 75 years ago, the planet has lived in peace. The Superior, an alchemist, found a way to infuse objects and, after many years of experimentation, people with unimaginable power. He unleashed his super humans during the war and ended the conflict. The world united deeming him and the heroes “in command.” This marked the end of war for planet Earth, or so we thought.

         For two months the men and women that The Superior chose to protect the U.P.E. had been disappearing and something needed to be done about it. He chose The Child, his one and only child, to extract the scum of society and inform them of their mission.  She was to begin with the smartest of the five, the man chosen to be leader, Mr. Smith. He was the most notoriously disturbed and manipulative serial killer to grace the plant. Once he was on board the rest would be easy to convince, his reputation alone would be enough to get any criminal on board.

The Superior suspected that the United Earth Government (U.E.G.) was behind the kidnapping of his heroes. After the war their power deceased greatly, someone else had delivered the peace that they had been promising to achieve for years. Filled with greed and resentment for The Superior they were making moves to reclaim their once unquestioned power. Along with the kidnappings there had been sporadic nuclear explosions all over the world. Each explosion was small and targeted, only the government would have the resources and the motivation to pull off something like that. The Superior felt that they were after the power source that he used to give the heroes their powers. With this power they would be able to fully control the earth’s inhabitants, which would not be in Mr. Smiths best interest.

         List in hand, The Child walked into the Vehicle Dealership where Mr. Smith worked. The building was large and made mostly out of glass. The sleek look was probably meant to reflect that of the vehicles that they sold. Standing on her tip-toes, the girl reached up and grabbed the chrome door handle. She pushed the door open and surveyed the buildings interior looking for her target. Once inside she moved with great confidence, her brown pigtails bouncing with each step, towards the middle of the showroom. Mr. Smith noticed her immediately, it’s not everyday he saw a six year old walk in alone to buy a car. She turned her head to him and motioned to the back alley. Then, without missing a beat, she exited the building.  Mr. Smith looked around, curious if anyone else had seen the exchange and remarkably it seemed that no one noticed the child. Compelled to investigate, he followed the girl to the back of the store.

         He turned into the alley and was embraced by the thick stench of mildew and garbage, tomorrow was trash day and even the dumpsters seemed excited to get rid of the waste. He turned the corner, the smell fading as he walked, and saw the child. He approached her, an irritated sneer grew on his face. “What is this,” he growled, “I am working, and I don’t have time for this shit.” The girl didn’t budge, after a moment she broke eye contact and examined the notoriously faceless man. He was average looking, of average height, simply unremarkable in every way, perfect for his line of work. She reestablished eye contact, cleared her throat, and spoke, “This shit, is of great interest to you, Mr. Smith.” The girl’s confidence leaked through her teeth, her face didn’t move a muscle. It was apparent that Mr. Smith was beginning to feel intimidated by the small girl’s large presence. Satisfied with her effect on the man, she offered him a half smile, “Humor me” she piped, her tone was more gentle this time. Mr. Smith nodded; his interest in what she had to say had grown exponentially from when he first encountered her. The Child returned to her serious manner and explained the situation. 

         Mr. Smith thought for a moment, contemplating what this would mean for him. “Once we catch the bastards, I’m done?” He inquired, picking at his nails. Her assurance in the Superiors choice of leader grew. “Of course...if you think you can do it that is.” She chuckled and handed him an address. “If you are in, follow these instructions. I have four more people to pick up.” With that she walked away, the red bows that held her pigtails up were the last thing he saw as he stood, speechless, in the damp alleyway. He wondered how The Superior could possibly send a child to locate such dangerous people, regardless, she knew what she was doing, and he was prepared to help.

         The Child stood in front of an abandoned building outside of what was once Chicago. Midnight was approaching quickly and she wasn’t interested in keeping her other guests waiting. A figure approached from the darkness, the streets were baron. People didn’t really inhabit this area after the war; it was one of many locations that were destroyed. The figure was illuminated by the lights on the building and with out a word she walked inside. Mr. Smith, making no change to his pace, followed her. Once inside, he saw The Child, sitting at the head of a large, metal, table. With her were three men and a woman, the rest of the scum. The Child saw him eyeing the woman and sighed.  “Sit.” She advised Mr. Smith, signaling for him to move to the empty chair to her immediate left. She watched as he walked around the table, surveying the other four characters as he moved passed them and sat confidently next to her.

           Once he was seated The Child pulled out five large files, each flagged with many colored pieces of paper. She looked towards one of the men, opened a file, and began to read. “Officer Connor Jones, body count: 65, in possession of ten illegal firearms, and narcotic dealer to four of the six major gangs.” The large man looked at the child, his brows pulled tightly together. His eyes were hostile, sunken into his face and surrounded by darkness. “Where the fuck did you get that shit.” His voice was loud and gruff. As he spoke his fists clenched, even as he relaxed his posture in an effort to appear in control. She could tell that he was nervous but had no plans to calm him. As she began to switch files the officer became irate. “Hey!” He interjected, his still clenched knuckles were turning white. “I’m talking to you kid.” Her eyes darted to him and narrowed. “Your point being what?” She quipped, and with that she opened the next, the defeated Officer Jones sank in his seat.

Her attention was diverted to the muscular bald man sitting to her right. He had a strong jaw and a thin, crooked nose; his eyebrows sat low on his seemingly endless forehead.  The man’s face was sporting a sardonic smile, making it apparent that he wasn’t taking the meeting seriously. Determined to change his cynical behavior the girl cleared her throat and stood up on her chair, placing a foot on to the table. “The Silencer, James Elkwood.” She peered over the file to absorb the look of shock on his face. Satisfied that she startled the man, she continued. “Body count: unquantifiable, known for sadistically slaughtering anyone he sees fit.” Again, she took a pause, watching the man lose his poise. “You seem to have taken a particular interest in removing their throats.” She chuckled to herself as her guests sat, waiting uncomfortably for her to make a point. The once confident Silencer had lost his sensation of control and compliantly waited for her to move away from his life and pick apart someone else.

         She moved back in to her chair and, again, flipped files. “Samuel Mcfarley,” The Child called out. The squirrely man looked both attentive and vacant, his neck length, greasy, blonde hair framed his narrow, almost sickly, face. “You have a body count of 87, 40 of those being animals. You are a class A psychopath, raped your mother at age 18 before you ran away to wreck havoc on the rest of society.” She gave him a glance and his expression remained the same. Unsure if he had heard her she moved on. As she began to address the woman Sam stood up. “Shhhhh.” He hissed, looking behind him. “The lady is going to speak.” His eyes widened, looking around the room.

When he sat down The Child, hoping to avoid any more outbursts, quickly turned to the woman who was nervously scanning the room. She was an attractive woman with round lips; her hair was short, bangs pulled behind one ear. “Mrs. Hendrix, you are an interesting one.” The woman’s green eyes darted around the room. “Kindergarten teacher with a thing for hot married men, emphasis on the hot. Once you sleep with them you tie them to the bed and set them on fire. Body count: 24.” The room fell silent, all eyes were on the small child. The woman parted her lips, as if she were going to speak. “No questions.” The Child said as she slowly looked around the room. Once her gaze reached the hawk-like stare of Mr. Smith she got out of her chair and began to walk. “Care to introduce yourself? Let the rest of the gang know why they are here.” Before he could answer she had opened the door, leaving him to convince them to bring back the heroes that they hated so much.

         In the next room she sat and watched the video feed, she needed to know that Mr. Smith could handle them. She watched as he introduced himself, informing them of his misdeeds. The group was in awe, everyone knew Mr. Smith, he was the faceless man who had committed the most grievous of misdeeds for years with out leaving any trace of his real identity. He began explaining the reason for their gathering, and, one by one the bastards protested. Curious as to why they should help, how would it benefit them? “You airheaded dirt bags!” He exclaimed, shutting up the group instantly. “If the government gets this power source our lives will be over. The super pompous dicks have morals, rules. The government doesn’t.” His words sunk in to each of the disturbed guests. “They would own us.” His tone was calm and sincere, one by one, the scum agreed.

         Pleased with The Superior’s choice of leader, the girl walked back into the room and placed five objects on the table. “The Superior has chosen unique powers for you five. They are in these objects; the powers only work if you have the object on you, touching your skin.” Skepticism seemed to be the overwhelming expression coming from the group. “He chose amulets, put them on, you will have two weeks to practice with your powers before we begin the mission.” Hesitant, each of them took their respective items and as the girl was opening her mouth to deliver more instruction an explosion shook the earth, throwing the group apart.

The dust settled, each of the psychopaths stood up, a power surged through their bodies. Little did they know, the power from the items had been transferred to them in the blast, to make matters worse, The Child had disappeared. Taking it upon himself, Mr. Smith addressed the group. “Looks like we will be starting a little earlier then expected.”