Superpowers In A World Gone Mad
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Two Fisted Tales, Issue #001

May 29, 2013 in Two Fisted Tales Tags:

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Issue #001 – – – – – controlled by Mark Adams – – – – – Credits 15

“You need to eat, Wayne,” the Boy, whose name was Graeme, said.  He walked quickly through the smelly room, picking up discarded dirty clothes and pulling the drab curtains open to let a shaft of light pierce the rank bedroom.  “You look terrible.  How long has it been since you had something?”
The man stared blearily at his old partner, his watery eyes blinking in the light.  “Huh?”
“I said,” Graeme repeated, louder, and slower, like he was talking to an imbecile.  Which, for all intents and purposes, he was.   “How long has it been since you had something to eat?”
“Yesterday, I think,” Wayne Bruce told him, absently scratching at his dirty string vest.  “Or maybe not.  Dunno.”

Graeme sighed and began to tidy the room in earnest.  He picked up a pizza box, the emblazoned name Whizzy Pizza had been smudged by spilt coke, or beer, or something so that it looked like it said “Jizzy Pizza” which didn’t strike the Boy as sounding particularly appetising.  He flipped open the lid.  Only one slice had been eaten, the rest was rotting in the box.  He’d like to think it was the source of the bad smell in the room, but he knew in his heart of hearts it was not.

“Have you left the apartment at all since the last time I came?” he asked.
“I have,” the Man who had once been a famous superhero said.
“To do what?” Graeme challenged him.
“It was The Grizzly,” the hero said.  “He was outside.  I had to … I had to…”
“Wayne,” Graeme told him, “The Grizzly is gone.  He was killed by the Bullies last year while ‘resisting arrest’.”
“The fake doctor…?”  Wayne asked weakly.  “Yes it must have been him.”  Then his eyes closed and he fell sound asleep.
Graeme had no idea who the ‘fake doctor’ was.  His old mentor’s illness was progressing faster now.  He seldom made much sense.  Often talked about events which had never happened with complete certainty.  It was tragic, really.

The Boy wiped a tear from his eye.  No time for sentimentality.  He had to finish the cleaning, prepare the medications and make sure Wayne was comfortable before the nurse’s shift.   Graeme had finally admitted his old mentor wasn’t coming back from this illness and purchased professional care for him.  It wasn’t cheap, but money was not a big issue for him.  Not at all.  Poptastic Boy had all the money he could need.  Being the largest Drug Baron in The Yard has its benefits.

“Boss?” Tiny called from the doorway.
“Hmmm?” The Boy, who now went by the simpler handle ‘Popper’ asked.
“There’s been a hit down on Eighth.  Sounds like the Full Moon Posse.  We’re going to need to deal with it.”
“Oh we’ll deal with it,” Popper growled.  “Once I’ve finished here we’ll put an end to them once and for all.”
And then he laughed, long and slow and evil.  It felt good.

Later, in the fading light, Wayne Bruce opened his eyes and blinked at an empty room.  He knew that everything was completely, utterly, totally wrong about all of this.  His memories did not match the memories of everybody else.  His powers were gone.  He was weak and getting weaker.  They said he was delusional.  But he knew he was not.  He was just so very  tired.  If only he could find the strength to tell somebody?  But they wouldn’t believe it.  With a sense of immense frustration, Wayne Bruce drifted off once more.  On his shoulder a tiny black creature licked hungrily at a bulging vein in his neck, supping heartily on his lifeforce.  It was delightful and delicious.


3 Responses to “Two Fisted Tales, Issue #001”

  1. Sarah Says:

    Eeuw! Creepy black sucky thing. Intriguing. Wonder how real/visible it is. Graeme didn’t seem to see it

  2. False Bill Says:

    I wonder if Popper got Wayne a male Nurse or not?

    The Full Moon Posse sounds like Were Wolves fun further down the line to me for the Duo.

    Why do all Mark’s supers seem to get aged by their enemies?

  3. Eastwood Says:

    When is the next part of this?

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