Super Powers

A tiny movement in the darkened corridor. That was all Hank needed. He was already on high alert, and this turned what he called “the demon mode” on. Two throwing stars sped towards him in what appeared to be slow motion. Of course it wasn’t. Hank was simply moving – or more accurately feeling since his senses were effected more than his muscles and motor skills – fast enough to make it seem that way.

Dodging something like a bullet would have been impossible, but moving slightly to make the two throwing stars go past him without harm could be easily done. One flew after another corridor, the other thudded into a wooden picture frame on a wall nearby. Hank – still in demon mode – turned, reached for the star, and threw it at the shadowy black-clad form in the mouth of the hallway he was in.

The ninja – perhaps not a completely accurate term because there was no such thing anymore, but as it dressed like it, moved like it, fought like it, and acted like it, Hank figured it would do – moved out of the way, displaying some impressive acrobatics, and also pulling out a shiny blade from it’s back.

It jumped towards Hank, brandishing the blade, but before it could even land, Hank delivered a crushing blow to it’s stomach, and another to it’s head. The ninja crashed to the floor nearby. Completely motionless. It’s blade lay beside it.

“A real life ninja? I never thought I’d see the day.” Hank turned towards his teammate, and owner of the voice. Lesley Gum. His hair was bleach-blond and short, and his eyes blue. His attire for this mission was almost as black as the ninja’s. Hank himself had opted for a simple grey sweater and green camouflage pants – useless really, but he thought they looked good.

“They're not real. Varro just …” Hank winced and couldn't complete the sentence. He could feel it, inside of him. Not again. Something deep, dark and evil aching to break free. The all-too familiar red started breaking out on the back of his hand. Hank frantically put his other hand into his pocket and searched. After some fumbling he managed to bring out a grey case, and open it. Inside lay four syringes, all filled with red liquid. Hank grabbed one, pulled up his sleeve, and stabbed himself with it, injecting the liquid into his veins.

After a few moments he breathed easier. He could feel it being suppressed. For the moment. He glanced back at the case. Only three left. And that was all. The ingredients were getting too hard to secure. Hopefully, this mission would change things. He snapped the case shut, put it back in the pocket of his pants, and glanced at Lesley’s concerned expression. “I'm fine.”

Lesley put his hands up. “I wasn't asking, boss.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Hank sighed. “Shouldn’t Ji be here by now?” He glanced at Lesley and a silent stoic observer. Morsow Caylon Kardaf. A bald man of African descent. Somehow landed himself with a Russian family as a baby. A new but worthy addition to the team. No one knew his power yet but Hank.

It was Lesley who answered. “I don't know, but if he doesn’t …” His sentence was cut short by the air distorting for a moment, then a man appearing out of nowhere.

Ji-doo. Japanese, with blue spiky hair. As if that made him look cool, Hank privately thought, watched too many cartoons probably. Insufferable, but also invaluable member of the group. “Hey guys. Missed me?”

“Yes. We did. Hug?” The sarcasm dripped from Lesley’s voice, as he raised his arms towards Ji-doo.

Ji-doo just looked suspiciously towards Lesley before turning to Hank. “Mission complete, Boss. Security is out.” He moved his hands in a sweeping pattern to underline his words. “But you should have seen the cameras. There are ninja all over the place.”

“Which is why we should hurry. If you’ve done your job right in teleporting us in we should be right by the safe room.” Hank started moving after the corridor the ninja had appeared in.

“Of course I've done my … I mean how can you even doubt me, boss?”

Hank didn't deem that worthy of a reply, instead he opened a simple-looking door. The room he entered was big, with another door on the left, and a large window on the right. He paid neither attention. Instead he walked towards a seemingly empty piece of wall right by an ornate fireplace. He felt the wall, then pressed a place of it. It gave way, and a panel of the flamingo colored wall – the size of a double doorway – slid open. A solid steel door with a biometrical and numerical lock presented itself.

Lesley turned to Ji-doo. “I still don’t get it … why can't you just … jump, or whatever it is you do, inside that thing?”

Ji-doo sighed. “We've been over this, man. I can't just teleport inside solid steel objects! I have no idea what the inside looks like, what if I “jump” inside a shelf or a wall or something?”

Hank couldn't help but smile as Lesley muttered, “That'd be good riddance,” but out loud he said, “Okay. This should be piece of cake anyway.” He positioned himself in front of the steel safe, held his hand out towards it, and closed his eyes. After a few seconds the middle of the safe started glowing with a dull red light that kept spreading and magnifying.

Ji-doo nodded towards Hank. “What's Mr. Silent doing here anyway?” He glanced towards Morsow. “We can handle this job fine. Done this kind of thing a hundred times.”

“Not inside Varro Angus’s mansion, we haven't. That man is unpredictable. Besides,” he glanced at Morsow, “never hurts to have a little protection.” He saw the corners of Morrow’s mouth stretch upwards in a tiny indication of a smile at the private joke.

“I'm just saying … four ways means less of a cut for all of us.” Ji-doo furrowed his eyebrows. “And why’s he dressed for a funeral?” This prompted Morsow to look down at his black tuxedo with a quizzical expression.

“I don't think you should be the one to speak.” Hank gave Ji-doo’s clothes a disappointed glance. In typical Ji-doo flamboyance, he looked better suited for the gym – with his shiny red T-shirt and red-and-white striped pants – than for a mission like this.

Their conversation was cut short by Lesley. “I'm almost done.” Their eyes were pulled to the steel safe. Now all of it glowed white-hot. “Just a little more …” And promptly the melted steel started leaking down, opening a pathway into the small darkened room beyond the door – the lights were probably connected to the lock, Hank thought.

No matter, he took a small but powerful flashlight from his pocket and shone it inside the room. Mismatched objects were revealed, resting on glass shelves. He stepped over the rapidly cooling rubble of metal on the ground and inside the room. Plenty of interesting and valuable things were lit up by his light. Including necklaces made of pure gold and diamonds. Gemstones by the dozen.

His teammates – except for Morsow, who still just watched silently – stepped in beside him, delighting in the trinkets. Stuffing their pockets, and bags they had brought for such a purpose. Hank, however, was not interested in such things at the moment. His mind was consumed by a single thought, a single item he knew was supposed to be there.

Not everything in there was shiny. Some it was just old and invaluable. Priceless works of art. Tribal masks dating back thousands of years. Figurines and … there! Hank shone the light back at a place between a gold figurine and a particularly large sapphire. Between them lay an unassuming wooden box, adorned with demonic carvings.

That had to be it. He walked over to it, ignoring the cries of elation from the rest of the group. Hank picked the box up and opened it. A wave of calm washed over him when he saw what was inside. He wanted to test it immediately but … best to exercise caution. Turning to Ji-doo, he said, “Ji. This is it. This is what we came for. You know what to do. Teleport to the hideout and put it in the safe.”

Ji-doo faced him with hands full of pearl and ruby necklaces. “Aww, boss. Really? Do I have to? Do you have any idea how many jumps that is? We could just bring it back with the rest of the loot.”

“Yes.” Hank tried to convey the importance of this in his voice. “You have to.”

Ji-doo sighed and stuffed his pants full. He then accepted the offered box. “I'm going to do this. That's how much I love you, boss.” Hank ignored the tone of his voice and instead watched the short man walk to the window, look outside, and then disappear. Hank immediately fished his cell phone out of his pocket, pushed a few buttons and then watched a red dote disappear, then reappear, with frequency on a map of the city. With Ji-doo, one could never be too careful.

“Hey boss, how do I look?” Lesley turned to him with a ridiculous pair of diamond studded mirror sunglasses. In it Hank could see himself. The mane of wild dark hair, the narrow nose, and a face that could be considered handsome. When it wasn't …

Hank turned away. “Take it off.”

Lesley looked at him for a moment, then obeyed. “Hey. I know this group operates on a very … need-to-know basis, but … don't you think we should know? What that thing is you just gave to Ji?”

Hank rolled his eyes. “Drop the pretense. I know you have a bet going. No need to spoil the surprise. We'll be back at the hideout soon enough, and then I'll tell all of you. No, I'll do better, I'll show you.”

“Oh.” Lesley looked slightly ashamed. “You knew? Well, Ji-doo sounds convinced it's a power ring. You know, gives powers.”

Chuckling, Hank turned to Lesley. “Really?”

“Yeah. Personally, I think it's something really valuable. Otherwise we wouldn’t bother to break in to a place like this, right?”

“Well … I can tell you that …” Hank stopped. He could swear he heard something. He flipped his cell phone closed and replaced it in his pocket. Something was wrong.

Lesley was staring at him. “What … ?”

Hank held a hand up. “Shush.” He walked out of the room, and to Morsow. “Did you … ?” Then it happened, both doors to the room exploded open. Morsow looked at him with a question in his eyes. “No! Don't. If Ji comes back when …” Morsow nodded, and instead got himself into a battle-ready position. They didn't have to wait long. Six ninjas appeared in the smoke – three through each door – jumping into the room in a typical flashy ninja fashion.

Entering demon mode, Hank immediately went for one of the ninjas. Through sound and peripheral vision he could see that two ninjas attacked each of them, and he was no exception. He knew both Lesley and Morsow could take care of themselves, so he just had to worry about himself.

These were proving a bit more difficult than the last. Both because they were more proficient – much more – but also because there were two. Neither of them had bothered with throwing stars and instead drew blades. Hank wasn't scared, the only thing he was scared of was losing control of that thing inside his head, but beating them in time was still going to be problematic. Especially since he was absolutely sure there were more waiting outside that smoke.

Somehow they knew they were there. But that was a dilemma for another time. Hank dodged a slow moving blade – to him – and twisted himself out of the reach of the other one. Moving as quickly as he could, he swept the feet from under one of the ninjas while punching the other one. The first maneuver was success, but his later was dodged.

Not good, thought Hank. This meant he was wide open for a counter-attack. He could feel the sword coming for him. But the problem with his powers was that his senses were so much faster than his body. There was no way to move fast enough. And by the looks of things, his teammates weren't going to be much help.

Morsow was fighting almost as well as Hank, while screams indicated that Lesley was burning his from the inside out. A terrible fate, but effective. Neither would make it in time. There was only one option. Hank would have grimaced if he had time. He opened a tiny valve inside his head, and fed just a little bit of himself to the monster living inside.

Then he moved his hand up to intercept the naked blade. The change happened just in time. His hand had turned a ceramic red color, and was now holding the sword. There was no blood, and no pain. The ninja was too stunned to act, and Hank smiled. He ripped the sword out of it's hand, then used it's hilt to deliver a crushing blow to the ninja’s head. Then he threw it up in the air, caught it by the hilt, and rammed it straight through the other ninja that was in the process of getting up.

He removed the bloody sword, just as the ones that had so unwisely picked Lesley made their final screams and then turned to ash in a flash of bright light. Hank instead turned his attention to Morsow. One of his was on the ground, unconscious or dead. But the other was trying to find a way around the transparent blue bubble Morsow had placed himself in.

Hank smiled. There was no way to penetrate that shield. Still holding the stolen blade, he ran to the ninja and killed it easily. The hard part came after that, when he threw away the bloodied sword and regarded his hand. Willing the monster back after giving it a part of himself was more difficult than a hundred kills. He let out a scream as he forced it back into a recess of his brain.

The red left, and his hand became normal again. It helped a lot, that the red liquid was still running trough his system. It made the monster more … manageable. Lesley looked at him with concern as he stepped over the ashes of the fallen ninja. “Are you okay, boss?”

“I'll be fine.”

“There’ll be more.” Those were Morsow’s first words after arriving inside the mansion. He dropped the shield around himself. “Maybe it's best I …”

“No.” Hank was adamant. “Ji may be annoying but … he's still in the group. And he's saved us countless times. If he tries to teleport through your shield he’ll die. I think we at least owe him to hold out as long as we can.”

Lesley had joined them. He was currently staring at the receding smoke from the explosions that had blown the doors off their hinges. “Guys? I think this is as long as we can hold out for.” Hank saw what he meant. Ninjas could be glimpsed through the smoke, but what they had in their hands certainly were no ninja weapons.

At this precise moment Ji-doo appeared next to them. “Okay. Job done, boss. That … thing is safe and …” He peered his eyes through the smoke. “Are those ninjas holding automatic … ?”

“Shield, now!” Hank screamed. And at just the right moment too. No sooner had most of the room been encased in a blue transparent dome than the sound of rifles and machine guns blasted through their eardrums. The bullets harmlessly ricocheted off the shield. For now.

“I can't keep it up for very long in this assault!” Morsow shouted over the gunfire.

“I know,” Hank shouted back. “Just give me time to think!” He glanced about the room, getting his mind in gear. For all intents and purposes they were trapped. Drop they shield and they were dead. No way to dodge bullets. Even if the guns stopped, they still had no escape. They were far too far up to jump out the window. Ji-doo would of course make it. He himself might too, if he risked giving most of his body to the monster. But Lesley and Morsow were as good as dead.

Hank turned his eyes back to the window. Unless there was a way too … he faced Ji-doo. “How do you feel about teleporting a person?”

Ji-doo fidgeted. “You know I hate that, boss. Getting us all in here was bad enough. And anyway, there's no way I can do it fast enough. I have to recharge for at least ten minutes between people.”

“I know. For this, one's enough. But everything has to happen at precisely the right time, got it?” He told them the fairly simple plan, and then turned to Morsow. “You think you can?”

Morsow appeared in thought. “Yes … yeah. I think so.”

“Okay. As soon as they reload then. Ji, get in position.”

Ji-doo nodded and went over to Morsow, putting his hand on his shoulder. His face was in an expression of pain for the difficult task ahead of him. Hank knew how much strain transporting anything but himself put on him, but there was no other way. It was about seven seconds until the bullets stopped.

Morsow wasted no time in dropping the shield. Ji-doo immediately teleported both himself and Morsow. Hank nodded to Lesley for one brief moment, then both of them ran towards the window and jumped through, without hesitation. Hank could feel the glass smashing as he went though. He tried to break as much of it as he could himself, because he knew his body was a lot tougher than Lesley’s.

Here came the tricky part, but the trick was all on Morsow. He and Ji-doo stood below. The shield came up. Good. But the tough part was for Morsow to maintain the right consistency. Not too hard, or they’d die. Not too soft, or they’d fall right through, and again, probably die.

The blue dome came closer and closer. Hank and Lesley braced themselves for impact. But Hank’s trust hadn't been misplaced. The dome was just soft enough to keep them from any damage, while hard enough to keep them on it. The glass shards all went through, minimizing their effects. Amazingly enough none of them seemed to have hit him or Lesley.

Hank and Lesley then slid softly along the dome and down to the grass below. The shield disappeared. But it seemed it was still too soon to relax. In the window above them ninjas appeared, with their guns. Morsow made a shield that encompassed all of them just before the bullets started flying.

“Get me to the cars.” Lesley pointed to a row of black unmarked jeeps and grinned. “I don't think anybody will be following us after I'm through.” The four of them obeyed, running together past the cars. Lesley concentrated on each one. Just as ninjas started running out the front door, the four guys headed towards a black van parked not far away.

Morsow managed to keep the shield up all the way. All of them laughed as they got inside the van, watching the ninjas trying to start the jeeps. Hank got into the driving seat, and Lesley beside him while Morsow and Ji-doo went in the back. Lesley smiled at Hank, as the car started. “Another job well done, huh, Boss?”

“Seems that way.” Hank allowed himself a smile, his thoughts on that wooden box. “Seems that way indeed.” He didn't say much as they drove through the city, but his mind was in overdrive. He could barely allow himself to hope that he’d finally found it. Anticipation was burning through him. It was hard to wait until they reached the hideout.

The hideout. It wasn't much of an hideout really, but the name gave it a certain flair. What it was, was a basement in the same house as a friendly movie rental. It had it's own door, and was actually even bigger than the rental itself. Hank and his teammates had spent quite a bit of their money on renovating and decorating, so now it was the perfect place for them to hang out between jobs – which weren't all of a criminal nature.

Hank pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at the movie rentals back. Hardly anyone came here. There were some apartments, upstairs, but most of the space in the four-story building was used for storage, or just stood empty. Ji-doo, Morsow, and Lesley followed him to the front door. Hank punched in the code to open the formidable steel doors, and went inside, followed by the rest of the group.

That door was the easy one. The hard one was ahead. Solid steel, strengthened by bars of a heat-resistant special-made carbon mixture. The stuff airplanes wish they were made of. Nothing short of a nuclear blast would open that door. Hank first scanned his hand-print, then his retina, and lastly said a password into a speaker connected to an advanced voice recognition system. No one but him and his teammates could get through.

He pulled the handle of the door and went inside. Everything was as he left it. The spacious lounge with grey steel as it's main theme. The comfortable blue sofas, the glass coffee table. And the stairs, where his desk was. And behind that desk … his safe. He heard the door close behind him but he paid it no heed. Instead he began jogging to the stairs. All he could think about was the ring.

He probably should have seen it coming. Sensed … something. But he was too distracted. Hank realized nothing, until a soft swoosh sound was heard, and then a gurgling. He stopped and turned around, staring at Morsow. A throwing star had lodged itself in his throat. Cold shivers ran down Hank’s spine. Out of the shadows, all around them, ninjas appeared. And every single one of them carrying guns. No more blades. No more playing.

But the one that had his attention was the one calmly coming down the stairs. He had been the one to throw the star that killed Morsow, of that Hank had no doubt. This one wasn't dressed in a ninja costume. In fact he had on a tasteful suit, with a blood-red tie. The man had short white hair, and a moustache. Hank would have recognized him anywhere. Varro Angus. Self-proclaimed ninja master. Mentor to all those black-clad people currently occupying their hideout.

“Hank Brown.” Varro twirled something in his hand. A wooden box. Hank stared, how had he gotten that? For that matter, how had he gotten inside? “Believe it or not, I've been looking forward to meeting you.” He was now down the stairs, and approaching. “How many places owned by or connected to me have you hit?” His tone was almost friendly.

“Fifteen or sixteen. Depending on whether you count the bank managed by your uncle.”

“Yes. I think I do count that. My uncle was devastated, after all.” Varro stopped a few meters from Hank. “So … here we are. Can you guess what's gonna happen now?”

Hank turned to Ji-doo. “Quickly, get the box, and teleport out of here. I'll … stay alive, somehow. What matters is the box.”

Ji-doo just looked at him for a moment. Then he disappeared. And reappeared by Varro’s side. “See, boss, I don't think that will be quite … possible. At this time.” Ji-doo grinned in a manner that suggested …

Lesley was quicker than Hank in wording it. “You betrayed us. You son-of-a-bitch!” He started towards Ji-doo but Hank put a hand in front of him.

“Don't. You'll make things worse.”

Varro nodded. “Quite so. Our Ji here was happy to switch sides for a little monetary incentive. It's how I discovered this little … what do you call it? Hideout? It's actually quite nice.”

Hank focused on Ji-doo. “Why?”

“Why? Isn't it obvious. You treat my like shit! Like I'm not part of the team. I mean, come on, I teleport. Heat boy … heats things. It's ridiculous. I could kill you all in an instant, and all I ever hear is … god, isn't Ji annoying? Well, guess what!? A team that doesn’t want me, is a team I don't want!”

“So your feelings were hurt?” Lesley rolled his eyes. “Please, grow up.”

Hank sighed. “Okay. You have us. Now what are you going to do with us?”

“Good question.” Varro walked towards one of his ninjas, took it's blade, and carried it to Ji-doo. “Here. Kill Hank.” The way he said it suggested he was discussing a mundane thing, like the weather or what was on the news.

Ji-doo just smiled and took the offered blade. Then his eyes centered on Hank, and all Hank could see was a bloodlust barely contained. It wasn't like he hadn't seen that side of Ji-doo before. It just felt different, to have it directed at him. He gave his former teammate a sad smile, then he closed his eyes.

Hank knew what Ji-doo would do. Without a doubt. Where he would come from, and what part of his body he would hit. So he waited, with his senses honed. Only two seconds passed until he heard the telltale rush of air filling a gap left by a body that suddenly wasn't there anymore. He gave two body parts to the demon inside, and wasn't disappointed when he felt a dull feeling of something cold hitting the back of his neck.

Turning around, Hank grabbed the blade with the hand that had also been given. But before he could hit Ji-doo with it, he disappeared. Hank used the time to get a proper hold on the sword – by the handle – and then turned around again. Ji-doo was nowhere to be seen. This time Hank had no idea where his old friend was going to come from. The battle was in a state of flux, not strategy.

Something appeared, just outside his vision. Blade met blade. Apparently Ji-doo had got himself another one. Ji-doo disappeared again. Hank wasn't quick enough. A blade cut him on the arm. The pain coursed through his body. The monster inside stirred. Hank grimaced. He wouldn’t be able to keep it at bay for long.

While distracted, Ji-doo managed to land a kick on the part of his hand not covered by demon skin, forcing Hank to drop the sword. Suddenly, Ji-doo began a whirlwind of appearances and disappearances. His laughter echoed in the room. “You're mine, boss.” His voice sounded weird, coming from many places at once.

This was it. Hank closed his eyes. No way to fight him like this. The only way to win was to give his whole body over to the demon. And he’d never do that. Never again. Too high a price had to be paid for something like that. Death was better. But suddenly a different sound could be heard.

Hank opened his eyes again. Ji-doo stood still, gasping, like his lungs couldn't hold any air anymore. It didn't take long to figure out why. Lesley stood with his hand outstretched, a look of contempt twisting his features. “You miserable little weasel, I don’t care if I die for this. Bringing you down will be a fitting end for me. A service to humanity.”

The ninjas around raised their guns, looking to Varro, who merely watched everything impassively. Ji-doo turned to him. “Hel-p m-e.”

Varro gave a tiny shake of his head to the ninjas, who lowered their guns. “This was your test, Ji. And you, regrettably, failed.” Light was now shining through Ji-doo’s body. He opened his mouth and turned his eyes to the ceiling. If he had breath, he would have screamed, Hank was sure, but nothing came out except a strange sucking sound as his body burned to ash.

All the jewels he had stuffed into his pockets joined the ash, white hot. It would have been comic, had the situation not been so dire.

Varro turned his eyes towards Lesley. “Impressive. You know,” he glanced towards the ash, “a spot just opened up in my lineup …”

Lesley spat in Varro’s direction. “I’d never work for you, you scum!”

“Such loyalty. But I think you should at least hear my offer before refusing.”

Lesley folded his arms above his chest. “Fine. Tell me, so I can make an informed rejection.”

“Your life, and the life of Hank here will be spared. You have my word. I will of course pay you a ridiculously large sum of money for services you must render. Really nothing you haven't done for this group. And I'll even throw in this little trinket.” Varro threw the box so it slid to Hank’s feet. “It's useless to me anyway.” Hank bent down and picked it up.

Lesley unfolded his arms, but still looked at Varro with suspicion. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

“Oh, believe me. Hank here is too much trouble to kill properly. Aren't you, Hank?”

Hank ignored his comment, but instead turned towards Lesley. “You should take the offer. Not for me. Whether he kills me or not doesn’t matter. I don't fear death. But you … you got wife. A kid on the way. You should live.”

Lesley had a pained expression on his face. Then he finally nodded. “I'm sorry, boss.”

“Don't be.” Hank forced a smile. “Say hi to Sharon for me.”

“I will.” Lesley moved to stand beside Varro.

“Well … this had been entertaining. Be well, Hank.” Varro nodded to his ninjas, who all started pouring out of the hideout through the main door. “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Of course I'll have to kill you, but …” He shrugged, and nodded to Lesley. “Come on, kid.” The two of them were the last to go. Lesley shared one glance with Hank before he too, exited.

Only when everyone was gone, did Hank allow himself to scream. “Aaaaaaaahhhhh!” He’d just barely been able to keep it together before. Now the demon came, in full force. Hank ran into the bathroom, looking at his face in the mirror. His once-handsome face was turning ugly. Already his eyes were flashing between green and yellow. A horn was starting to grow on his forehead and his entire body was turning red.

At first he fumbled for the shots in his pockets, then his eyes strayed to the box. Quickly, he opened it. An onyx black ring lay inside. Hank grabbed it, and hesitating only for a moment, rammed it onto his finger. The effects were immediate. His face and body reverted to his normal self.

But that wasn't what made him sigh in relief, and fall down to a sitting position on the bathroom floor. Such a terrible price had been paid for this. Ji-doo, Morsow, Lesley … the entire team. All that was left was he. But it was gone. That presence, that feeling. The demon.

It was gone.