The Games of Supervillainy (The Supervillainy Saga Book 2) (19 page)

The ghost closed his eyes and I swung the scythe beside him, striking the ground. The ghost opened his eyes and stared down at his body as he faded away. “It's working!”

“Oh yeah!” I said, watching him disappear. “Who ya gonna call!”

“
I have no words
,” Cloak said. “
At all
.”

“Dumbo's magic feather,” I thought at Cloak. “If these guys think I can make them ascend, I can.”

“
That's... brilliant
,” Cloak replied, seemingly unable to believe it. “
I'm disturbed you came up with it
.”

“Who’s next?” I called out.

Dozens of ghostly hands shot up and I went to work, sending one spirit after another to the Great Beyond.

About six or seven ghosts in, a head popped in through the back of the door. It was Amanda Douglas, my unknowing sidekick. “Gary, are you okay?”

“Sorry, ran into a little spook trouble. I should have it dealt with in about five minutes.”

“Uh, okay,” Amanda said, surprised at the scene before her.

Amanda's head turned to a ghost in a nightgown, a long trail of blood flowing down her front. She stopped cold, her gaze focused with a haunting intensity I couldn't put into words.

“Mom?” Amanda said. “They killed you too?”

Her father had murdered her mother.

Oh God.

I looked between the two. “Oh crap. This is going to be one of those awkward family moments, isn't it?”

Amanda shot me a look which could have melted steel. You'd think a twenty-something girl who was five-foot-two at best would be less intimidating. It didn't help the ghost she identified as her mother gave me the
exact same look
.

“Sorry,” I said, raising my palms as I let my scythe rest on my shoulder. “Really.”

“It's... alright.” Amanda stepped through the front door. Her insubstantial frame moved with a dancer's grace.

“It is? My, you're forgiving.”

“Mister Karkofsky, could you leave us alone for a minute?” Amanda’s mother asked, giving me a sidelong glance.

“Alright.” I couldn't begin to imagine what Amanda was going through. It was bad enough losing your family. To discover your mother had been sacrificed on an altar somewhere to the Brotherhood of Infamy's evil god? Possibly by your father?

It was unforgivable and he was bound to her cloak. That would make for some rather dreadful conversations.

“Sure.” I gestured to a spot across the ghost-filled front hall. “I'll be over there, harvesting souls.”

“Thank you,” Amanda said, showing a remarkable maturity for her age. “You're a good man, Gary Karkofsky.”

“No, I'm not,” I corrected, looking at my costume. “Right, Cloak?”

“
I've looked into his soul
.
He's at least sixty-two percent evil
.”

“You're quipping to someone who can't hear you.”

“
I know. I think being linked with you has finally driven me insane
,” Cloak grumbled. “
Do you think Ms. Douglas will be alright
?”

“Not at all,” I said, turning to the ghosts and walking to the other side of the room. “
Finding out your family has been murdered is pretty damning. I should know
.”

“
So do I
.”

Turning to the rest of the ghosts, I noticed they were all looking at me with expecting gazes. I guess when all of them were waiting for rescue from a permanent state of hellish limbo, it was important to keep your attention focused on them.

“
You might want to help them move on
.
You know, if your plan works beyond the testing stage.”

Clearing my throat, I addressed the assembled spooks. “Okay, I want everyone to form two single-file lines. There's to be no shoving, no punching, no complaining, and if you're a kid don't worry I'm going to kick the ass of whoever did this to you.”

That brought a smile or two from some of the ghosts around me. Once the ghosts formed into lines, I started swinging around my scythe to send them on their way. I didn't know what I'd do if it ever stopped working but, at least for the first six or seven, it seemed to be continuing on like before.

Swinging a scythe was a lot harder than it looked, however, and I was exhausted by the time I'd claimed my twelfth soul. Even singing, “Don't Fear the Reaper” didn't make the experience any less tiresome.

“I have a new found respect for field hands in the Middle Ages,” I said, huffing and puffing.

“
Perhaps you should take a breather
,” Cloak said. “
After the world is saved, provided you don't bungle it, I also suggest you exercise more
.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “You and my mother.” Making a time-out gesture, I started walking past the ghosts in line toward the front door. “Five minute break time, people. Better let in everyone before they think I've been eaten alive by ghouls.”

“
Ghouls don't eat live meat
,” Cloak said. “
They first have to kill you
.”

“What an interesting fact.” I was surprised to realize there were over eighteen locks built into the side of the door. There was also a wooden board barricading the entrance. I hadn't noticed any of this earlier, which told me I was probably the single most unobservant human alive.

“
I would agree with that
.
What with you taking a break from trying to save the world to deal with a bunch of restless spirits
.”

“Yeah,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “I'm sorry. It's too easy to get distracted by dead children and all. I'll try and avoid it in the future.”

“
Was that sarcasm
?”

“You better hope it was.” I started turning the locks one by one. “How could you found a group like this? They've killed kids, kids. Plus, the whole end of the world thing. You were a lot cooler before I learned about this whole idiotic cult connection you have.”

“
Founding the Brotherhood of Infamy made sense at the time
,” Cloak said. “
World War 2, the Depression, and the rise of communism
—”

“That's crap and you know it,” I said, finding a combination lock. Freezing it off, I moved on. “Tell me about the real reason.”

“
You know the reason
,” Cloak said, its voice losing its usual echoing quality. “
Loss
.”

It was common knowledge Lancel Warren had lost his family in a gangland shooting. The event had inspired his brother to become the city's Santa Claus for close to a century due to the tragedy. I knew you didn't turn to selflessness and compassion after events like that. There was a period of anger and hatred as a result, a questioning of ‘why me?’ For some, namely myself, it never ended.

“Yeah, but tell me anyway,” I replied, reaching the halfway mark with the locks. “I need something to pass the time and Amanda looks preoccupied.”

I stuck my thumb over my shoulder towards Amanda and her mother. They were talking to the left of the hall, engrossed in a conversation I couldn't hear. A part of me envied her, the opportunity to talk with lost loved ones was one I'd come to appreciate and wish I could do again and again.

I think we all would like that.

“
Alright
,” Cloak, no Lancel Warren, said. “
I'll tell you
.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I mean that.”

I needed to know what was motivating these psychos. If I did, I had a chance of getting into their head. With that knowledge, I might be able to manipulate them into doing something stupid so I could kill them easier.

Being an evil mastermind was easier than it looked.

“
Everything lost its meaning after my wife and child died. I lost my faith in God, the goodness of man, and myself. I sought some way to contact my wife and child beyond the grave. I ended up finding something more
,” Lancel Warren whispered, his voice quivering a bit. “
From there, it seemed logical to try and recreate the world into something better
.”

“Yeah, replace logical with batshit insane,” I finished unlocking the door. “I can't say I blame you, though. If Mandy died, I'd want to burn the world to the ground too.”

“
We’re not having a bonding moment are we
?” Lancel Warren asked, sounding upset.

“No, we're not,” I snapped.

“
As you wish
,” Cloak said. “
Eventually, I realized how insane the cult’s plans were after I met my brother’s children. He talked me out of my madness and we worked together for years thereafter. I vowed I would prevent the Reaper’s Cloaks from every being misused. It’s the reason why I support your endeavors, even if they are insane.”

“We’re going to fix this, Lance,” I said, finishing unlocking the door.

Opening it up, I saw my group standing outside looking more than a little annoyed. Diabloman was standing straight up, breathing audibly as he flexed and un-flexed his fingers. Mandy, on the other hand, looked forward as if she'd been waiting for me to open the door. Cindy was trying to chat up Angel Eyes and he was looking off into the distance, obviously bored out of his mind.

“—I also play racquetball,” Cindy chattered on, smiling. “So, Angel Eyes, do you believe in the whole dating thing or are you into casual sex?”

“Oh thank the gods,” Angel Eyes said, seeing me open the door.

“Gary, what the hell were you doing in there?” Mandy asked, staring at me. “The city is being massacred out there.”

I frowned and leaned in on my scythe. “A hundred or so ghosts need their souls sent onward. It's tiring work. Oh and Amanda found her dead mother's ghost. I'm guessing they have some issues to work out.”

“Gary!” Amanda shouted from behind me.

“You never said it was a secret!” I shouted back, not bothering to turn back to look at her. “I haven't seen hide nor hair of Dick Gleeson, so he's either deeper in the house or he fled when we defeated his buddy's robot. I'm going to be a bit longer so I suggest we split up and go after the
Book of Midnight
separately.”

Cindy, stared at me in horror. “Split up? Gary, are you crazy? That's against all horror movie logic! I'm an attractive single woman who has lots of sex, I'm bound to die!”

“This isn't a horror movie.” Then I looked over to the horde of ghosts behind me and my surroundings. Looking over at a nearby grandfather clock, I noticed we only had about forty minutes left until midnight. “We’re running out of time.”

Diabloman replied, looking inside the house. “Can your spirit friends wait until we are done saving the city before you send them on their way?”

“I think they've waited long enough,” I said, thinking of all the childish faces eying me. “Besides, they might know something.”

They weren’t happy but I was in charge.

For the time being at least.

“Do you need any help with the scything?” Mandy asked, crossing her arms. “It's best if we take care of that first.”

“Can you see ghosts now too?”

“No, but I figure that you look ready to pass out.” Mandy pulled the Reaper's Scythe from me. I tried to hold onto it but she got it away from me rather easily.  “I figure that between you and Amanda, I can do some of the heavy lifting for you. Just tap where I need to hit and I'll do it.”

I took my scythe back, albeit with some difficulty. “I'll handle it. Could you please watch out for anything which looks like a Ring-wraith, though? I wouldn't put it past Dick to attack me while I'm depleting the spectral population of this place.”

“Ahem,” Mandy coughed, looked down at my outfit then at Amanda’s own. “Anything that
doesn't
look like you two?”

“Point taken,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “Anyone
else
who looks like a Death Eater, the Grim Reaper, or Sith Lord.”

“Understood,” Mandy said.

“I'm uncomfortable with the prospect of a woman being our primary protector,” Angel Eyes said. “It was appropriate when we were fighting amazons but now we’ll be fighting male opponents.”

“You can have him, Cindy,” Mandy said, rolling her eyes. “I don't even want him mooning over me anymore.”

Cindy wrinkled her nose in distaste before turning away from Angel Eyes. “Nah, it's okay. I'm sure there's someone out there with stunning good looks, a godlike body, and an aura of power. Wait, what was I saying?”

“I feel I am being mocked,” Angel Eyes observed.

“You're a real Aristotle, aren't you?”

“I prefer Plato, myself,” Angel Eyes said, wrinkling his nose. “Fine, I'll go along with this perversion of the natural order. For now.”

God, I hated Angel Eyes. I hated every part of him, including his big beautiful blue eyes and flowing blond hair.

Ignore that.

“Alright, we're going to have rush this along my spooky friends. So, everyone close your eyes and I'm going to send you off on your merry way at once.” I shouted, turning around to face the ghosts. Jabbing my scythe down in the ground, another thunderclap resounded. Combined with the organ music, I felt like I'd stepped into an old Hammer Horror movie.

“That's ridiculous,” a ghost missing half his head shouted. “We demand to be treated separately!”             

A chorus of shouts came up from the many spirits behind me, voicing their agreements.

“Okay, now you're starting to piss me off. If you guys don't close your eyes and go along with this, I'm going to soul-kill you with my scythe. It can do that, I've read the manual. If you're lucky, it'll just
send you to hell
,” I said, accenting the last words. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Even the children?” the ghost missing half his face said, sounding afraid.

“No, contrary to what Pat Benetar said, hell is not for children. They get into heaven regardless. On the count of three, people.”

“Is Gary really talking to a hundred ghosts?” Cindy whispered behind me.

“Yes,” Diabloman said. “I was trained to sense their presence by the monks of my order. This house is a great mystical convergence, much like the rest of the city, but more so.”