How Not to be a Superhero! part 3

Part 4

The Laurence Barns of New Cross.

When putting the rubbish out for the collection on the Monday morning Laurence had no idea he was to be the next victim of the killer who seemed to be stalking people with his name. This Laurence Barns (who quite rightly had never heard of Hyper-man or the Laurence Barns who inhabited that costume) was nearing forty but looked nearer to twenty, he had always looked young for his age a blessing in disuse now he was entering what many would call their middle years, he liked to keep his self fit but was not fanatical about it, he would consume five fruit and veg a day and had given up smoking for his thirtieth.
He had not been back in the city for long having spent the last three years touring the globe and seeing many interesting and culterally different parts of the world, he'd had a few run ins a few close shaves but on the whole a rewarding experience after getting a job in the city he had only been able to afford a flat above the shops of New Cross road the main road that led onto Deptford and eventually into Greenwich near to where Reggie lived, although this Laurence and Reggie had never met it would be this man's death that would truly begin the ordeal that Reggie was about to endure.
New Cross Laurence after forgetting to put the bins out the night before woke up at five, still dark still cold but not raining, he had to be at work by seven so the extra time up gave him plenty of time.
As he pulled the bin around to the front of his property he took a deep breath of that morning city air, when it was still (kind of) fresh it was going to be a nice day he decided as he noticed the tramp coming around the corner of the alley that ran along the back of his flat.
When he had first seen the news of the Laurence Barns killer he had not been overly concerned after all why would he have been, there must be thousands, heck millions, of them why would he be a target how would the killer even find him. His mother had phoned panicked her parting comment to call the police and mumbling how she wished she had called him Bert like his father had insisted, although Laurence was glad she hadn't Bert was his granddad and the man had been miserable. All this span around inside his head as the other man approached, he was bent over nearly double a thick over coat of soiled suede, thick matted beard and a baseball cap. The stink hit him before anything else, he was uneasy even though he didn't know why there were plenty of homeless people anyway he was few feet from his own door seriously he reasoned what could this guy do?
Before he even knew it the guy had passed and he breathed a small sigh of relief as the homeless guy was behind him.
“Laurence Barns?” the voice was dry, rattling a small it came from behind him as his heart jumped into his throat and began hammering, gripping tightly onto the bin he continued to walk he only had to get to the end of the alley and there would probably be people, a hand fell onto his shoulder and he yelped, it pushed spinning him around to peer into the face of the homeless man, “I said Laurence Barns?” his voice this time more commanding.
“No, 'fraid not you got me mixed up with someone.” he said false and scared to his own ears.
The homeless fellow was chewing, he spat off to one side with a small grin, Laurence saw his mouth then, blackened teeth and drool congealing in his thick beard, the mouth was horribly scarred, whatever this man had done it it looked like it had been ripped apart and sewn back together, badly. The beard hid this partly but this close the awful grinning mouth was disgusting, the smell of the man filled him, contaminating him, “what are you?” he asked.
“Nothing of this world Laurence, nothing of this world. You rest now.”
Laurence Barns, 42 of New Cross was found at 8.47 am by his dustbin men he was the seventh victim of the serial killer.

It had not been him no no it had not been, that was for certain it wouldn't have hurt him, well not the real him anyway even here he would have been immune to it. As the homeless man rifled through the rubbish looking for some choice morsel which to consume he found something suitable that crunched well as he chewed, it might have even squealed. It did not matter, it was sustenance and this body was decaying fast, with the introduction of the H-virus it was only a matter of time the sped up metabolic effect it had meant that not everyone was capible of sustaining it in fact very few were it was why only three men had ever had it, four if you counted him but that was self inflicted.
Once the man was dead, his body left as a rag-doll of a corps he knew it was the wrong Barns, but it was only after they were dead he would know for sure it was not his Laurence Barns his wonderful Great-Great-Great Grandfather the most respected of the Hyper-men before the source of his powers were discovered by his son the third Hyper-man, before the hyper-virus wiped out nearly nintey-eight per cent of humanity although that was none of the hyper-men was it?
No!
He clutched at the clumps of thick matted hair, that had not been washed in years that stank, whoever said hair cleans itself after a certain amount of time neglected to mention it still stank to high heaven. He finished chewing, sucking down the worm like rat tail like a piece of spaghetti he sat amoungst the filth of the river bank, this was the Deptford Creek he somehow knew, he didn't know how he knew but he knew this river eventually fed into the Thames, he knew he was getting closer to Laurence he was narrowing his way down. He knew a lot but what he didn't know was exactly what had happened to him, he had thought he was so clever.



He had it all. It was the cost that had sent him over the edge, Brandon Barns had been a typical Neopolitan teenager, leaving college with honours he married his sweetheart and they had set up their home in the suburbs of Neopolis. There had not been a Hyper-man since his Great-Great Grandfathers time but the Barns family were well respected because of their heritage. His father Luthor Barns was curator at the Hyper-man museum it was sort of a family tradition, the Third Hyper-man not Larry the first or Laurence the second but Bruce who although had a far shorter career than the other two had managed to finally clear up Neopolis before hanging up his cape for unknown reasons.
When the phone rang that morning Brandon was on his way out, his wife Ruth who although being the love of his life everyone said they were far too young to get married, he didn't see why they both had good jobs, both were doing well. He had his jacket over one arm as he picked up the receiver rejecting vid-phone, “Hello?”
“Hi Brandon, you busy?”
“Dad! Oh man I'm heading out to my shift at the lab.”
“Call in sick I need you here.” his father had said. It was a request he never would have made unless it was serious.
“I'll be right over.”
By this point in her history Neopolis was a city that Laurence Barns would have hardly recognised, its wide sprawling boulevards had became cramped and over built on, buildings and shacks sprawling out onto the side walks to accommodate a city heavily overly populated, with the markets crashed and the economy as dead as the Indian elephants (and the African, and the tigers and the hippos, rhino's and a good proportion of other animals) people were struggling to make ends meat. While the rich of Neopolis still lived in their gleaming towers which by now touched the clouds the poor of Neopolis were desperate and there were some really bad parts of town now. Brandon's family however were wealthy he saw the shack lined streets and had never known any different they were not things that pervaded into his own little biochemists world.
The Hyper-museum was in a better part of town, near the old mayors office and by the high court someone had spray painted a pair of red-glasses and a hitler tash onto the courts justice statue, although there was something still regal about her underneath they had spayed fuck the police. It had been cleaned and had faded somewhat but it was still readable, the composite spray paint they made these days were a Taggers dream as they were virtually impossible to remove.
Even with the spattering of graffti this was still a good part of town, the gangs had not moved this far up and the police were striving to keep it that way. Brandon parked up, paid the traffic droid and skipped up the steps to the museum, they were flanked either side by fifteen foot tall statues of the first two Hyper-men, to think these men were actually family, he never lost the burst of excitement he got from coming here.
The museum had only just opened, a few people were milling about as he entered, “Morning Alison.” he said to lady on the counter she had worked for his father for nearly fifteen years now.
“He's in the basement...again.” she said rolling her eyes and smiling. He moved behind her through a door marked 'STAFF ONLY' and headed into the depths of the building. In it's former life this place and been the transport authorities HQ and as such boasted its own (although disused) subway station which his father used as a resurch lab, its wide platforms and pokey spaces made an idea place for doing work that was not ready for public display.
The scattering of lights overhead were strip florescent some of which had gone out and not been replaced. His father was in his study a small partitioned off section of the old disused station, he could see his desk light was on.
His father was hunched over the table working furiously, “Dad?”
“Bran.” he looked up, “I've done, it I've finally done it.” he had said triumphantly. It was then Brandon noticed the haggered appearence of Luthor's face the large dark rings under his eyes, he looked like he had been over working his self again.
“Mom'll throw a fit when she sees you when did you last sleep.” he sniffed, “or shower.”
“I'll worry about your mother later I've finally found the H-sphere.” He sat heavily at his desk pouring a mug of coffee that looked more like mud. Brandon sat opposite his father, “What's the H-sphere?”
On the table was a small round object which was actually more of a disk than a sphere so he would have to take his fathers word about the name, it looked like it would have fit comfortably into the palm of his hand, around its perimeter were carved green leaves in it's centre was a large green H.
“This.” Said his father holding it up for him to get a better look is what gave the first Hyper-man his powers.”
He found it hard to reason that this was that actual object, there were rumours of course about who the big H got his powers none of them mentioned this device.
“How?” although it looked pretty it was rather unspectaular it didn't radiate any sort of power there was no mystic or spiritual feeling.
His fathers shoulders sagged, “That's what I'm hoping you'll help me with I want to employ you to help me.”
“but you said numbers have dropped, no one was interested in Hyper-man anymore.”
“Son you don't understand with this maybe we could be Hyper-men.”
“Your serious, I don't believe this, dad you need to rest. I'm phoning mom.”
Bran leaned over to lift the reciver on his father scratched old cell phone, he could not have even guessed at the year it was released but it was the old kind before the bio-link and in the days where the implant wouldn't have even been a dream it was touch screen, touch screen! The idea was almost sweet in its qauintness, god bless the bio-link.
His father gripped his wrist tightly the wild look in his fathers was one Bran had not seen before, he was serious prehaps deadly so, he couldn't ever remember being scared of the man before.
“No,” He said, “I'm on to something you don't have to help I'm sorry I asked but don't you dare tell your mother.” He looked at his hand realising how hard he was holding his sons wrist, the area was going a deep red, he threw it away with a look of disgust.
“You better go Bran.”
“But dad...”
“GO!”
Bran nodded, it was fine if his father wanted to act like an ass, what business was it, he had his own life now, career, wife it was all good.
As he turned to leave he noticed in the box in which the H-Sphere had come out tucked under a a sleeve was a small old fashioned SD card not knowing why he took it without a word to his father.

As he sat contemplating Justice with her scales and Hitler 'tache he span the SD card through his fingers, he was concerned about his father.
He arrived home his mind elsewhere, “Why aren't you at work?” Jess said as he entered via the back door straight into the kitchen. He mumbled something, he didn't know what as he went through into the front room, none of the appliances had the correct slot for the card he'd found it was after all nearly archaic in its design but he must have had something that it fitted.
Finally he found an old camera he'd had as a boy that it fit snugly into, “Right lets see what this is all about.” Thankfully the camera could be connected to the home computer system, the man who appeared on the screen looked familiar fine blonde hair, very strong jaw line like his father, glistening blue eyes, he was a typical Barns in the way the small framed dark featured Brandon was not.
“Well” His ancestor said smiling nervously, “I hope it is a Barns who has found this because...”
“Brandon!?” Jess shouted from the other room.
“Shhhh, five minutes for gods sake Jess FIVE MINUTES!”
He heard the door slam shut but was dimly aware of it.
“Actually it's probably better if a Barns doesn't find it. I am thirty years old but I won't make it to forty its the curse of the power I inherited that of which my father Laurence and my Grandfather were unaware of. My dad he didn't take the full power he made it too fifty but to watch him waste away like he did.” for a moment the strong looking man looked away composing his thoughts, “It's no secret that in my short time as Hyper-man I cleaned up the city with methods somewhat more...ruthless than my father a fact he never forgave me for and for one that I don't blame him. I put myself above the law in a way he never could, but I had to didn't I? After all after that kid exposed my fathers identity to the world it became a far more dangerous world for the Barns family. Anyway I'm not looking for your sympathy and I am not looking for approval I am however here to warn whoever finds this H-Sphere. I do not know where it comes from but what I have found about it is firstly it contains a virus alien in origin which for some reason the Barns gnome reacts to and it bestows fabulous power but the price is death, it may have been that my Grandfather Larry knew how much it sped everything up inside him and gave himself the name Hyper-man because that's exactly what happens everything goes into overdrive in a way the human body can not cope with, well not for very long. For me it is too late but if you are a Barns or are in some way related seal it away again.
“Contained on this memory card is all the work I have done myself, good luck.”
The screen went black and for a moment he sat there staring at it, that was Bruce Barns the third Hyper-man, Brandon could not remember what age he had died at but he knew that all three Hyper-men had died young after disappearing away from society.
Virus?
What kind of Virus would speed up a hosts body to a state where they would seem super-human? And how would this benefit the virus it self? After all virus's tended to kill a host rather than help them.
The biologist in him was intrigued by this seemingly revolutionary discovery and apparently everything he needed was on this old piece of technology.
He watched the video of Bruce three more times taking in his messege, and after was left with two questions: one, what was so special about the make up of his family that it only seemed to affect them and secondly how it imbued them with god like powers?


“Where are you Laurence?” The tramp growled as he wiped the slick spittle off of his thick beard.
He crouched low, hunched over in the alley watching as the bin man made their grisly discovery. The tramp felt no remorse over killing the wrong man he didn't feel remorse any more, not after he watched everyone he loved die, his city crumbling as he became a mad king of nothing but bones and ash. And whose fault was that? Hypie.
Let me out...please. A tiny voice whispered inside of him. The soul of this body did not truly appriceate the small wonderland he had been confined to since he had accquired the use of this body, not that he had been provided with anything speical this body was decreped, smelly and well past any glory days it might have had.
“Shut it.” he grumbled. These failiures could not go on, this city was nothing like Neopolis its smells were different, its people odd and sooner or later he would get caught and here there were no powers, he had to find Laurence and he had to find the creator after all wasn't the virus that wracked his body and destroyed civilisation truly his fault, after all if it had not come from his mind it would not have happened.
You wouldn't exist either. The true voice of this body said.
“Don't make me come in there.” He giggled dribbing through his split black lips.
He sniffed the air, the smell of him was getting closer he was steadily making his way across London, the Hobbling Killer one good thing about this body was very few people noticed him, most ignored him on purpose, he took the dirty map out of his coat pocket and marked it with a marker pen. The smell was coming from further down, next stop: Greenwich.