Communal Psychic Part 4

At a run-down abandoned factory. Lyric and Wraith are standing by their motorbike, alert and on their guard. Coming down the track is the Scribbler’s car, Finesse in the driving seat.

LYRIC: Time to find out if that Barkeep is as good as the money we paid him.

Chronal and Amity climb out of the car, followed shortly by Finesse who’s still pulling on her boots, and form a loose circle with the other two.

FINESSE: Ok, let’s do this by-the-book everyone. We’re down one Scribbler, which is never a great start. We still don’t know much about this Antihero, so be prepared for anything.

AMITY: Can you sense anything, Finesse?

FINESSE: You know, it’s odd, but I can’t. There can’t be anyone with powers anywhere near.

AMITY: I can’t feel anyone either. But there is something about this place… it doesn’t feel right.

LYRIC: I know what you mean. And I’m not even an empath.

FINESSE: Ok. Let’s do a sweep and search. Everyone, be on your guard.

They enter the run-down factory.

…

Shift is walking down the darkest alleys of inner Dinas. There is something indolent in her walk, casually brushing her fingertips against things she passes. She is humming under her breath. A slovenly man is collapsed in the filth of the street. He staggers to his feet as she approaches.

SLOVENLY DRUNK: Wass a pretty girl like yew doing in a place like thiss?

Still humming under her breath, Shift ambles past.

SLOVENLY DRUNK: Cor… you’ve got a luverly arse.

She pauses, flexing her shoulder muscles and turns to focus on the Slovenly Drunk, narrowing her eyes. Quick as a snake, she lashes out with one arm, smashing into his head so hard he flies backwards against the wall with a crunch. Resuming her humming, she skips a few paces down the street, a smile on her face.

The Slovenly Drunk lies where he fell, blood trickling from his contorted face. Nearby a pair of beady eyes watches the whole scene, then scuttles away into the darkness.

…

Inside the run-down factory.

FINESSE: Getting anything Amity?

AMITY: No. And it’s horribly frustrating because I really feel that I should.

FINESSE: I know what you mean. There’s something intangible about this place. I can’t put it into words.

CHRONAL: Guys, I don’t feel right. I feel all… slow.

WRAITH: And I feel more… visible than usual.

LYRIC: A power dampener?

FINESSE: It would fit the specs.

WRAITH: Lame.

CHRONAL: We still out number him.

LYRIC: Let’s just hope he doesn’t have goons.

FINESSE: From what I’ve read, that wouldn’t be his style.

CHRONAL: No. He’s a bit of loner, but he’ll definitely be trying to split us up.

AMITY: So let’s all stay together then!

WRAITH: Did anyone order a rat-to-go?

FINESSE: What’s that?

AMITY: Oh, look! There’s a little brown rat watching us.

SKYEA: Squeak.

LYRIC: Anyone speak rat?

FINESSE: Typical. The one time we need a rat-translator and Shift isn’t even here.

SKYEA: Squeeeak. Squeak.

The rat scampers away into a crack in the wall.

CHRONAL: That was odd.

FINESSE: We’ll ask Shift about it later.

WRAITH: Anyone remember what he said?

CHRONAL: No. But I’ve recorded it on my Dictaphone.

FINESSE: Good thinking!

The Scribblers continue through a big doorway into an empty, circular chamber.

AMITY: This room is hideous. I can’t feel anything in here.

She turns and walks back out the door, shivering slightly.

FINESSE: What happened to sticking together?

AMITY: I’ll be by the door. I can’t stay in that place. It’s… empty.

FINESSE: Ok, but take Chronal with you for back up. Nobody’s going off on their own today. Apart from Shift, of course. And come to think of it, where’s Wraith gone?

WRAITH: (from behind) I’m behind you.

FINESSE: Ok, us three will check this big, creepy room and make sure there are no villains lurking in the corners. Although, admittedly circles don’t have corners.

CHRONAL: It could be argued that a circle has an infinite number of corners.

LYRIC: Really?

CHRONAL: No.

FINESSE: If you don’t have anything helpful to say…

CHRONAL: I wouldn’t say that that was unhelpful. As such.

WRAITH: Where’s Amity?

All Scribblers look around in vague confusion.

FINESSE: Amity?

There is a silence. Lyric pulls out his communicator.

LYRIC: Amity? Are you reading me?

There is a crackly noise.

CHRONAL: That was a response. She’s activating her speaker.

LYRIC: Amity? Respond.

ANTIHERO (over the comlink): Amity is not available to answer your call. Please leave a message after the tone.

He laughs maniacally.

WRAITH: What a tool.

LYRIC: I’ll leave you a message, you…

ANTIHERO: I shall have you all for my collection: you cannot escape the ANTIHERO!

FINESSE: Dramatic, much?

CHRONAL: Power-inhibiting, hero-collector. Right! There's an obvious weakness there!

The room grows suddenly darker and a long shadow stretches from the one entrance to the room.

ANTIHERO: I have no weaknesses!

He is easily over eight feet tall, clad in heavy, gothic armour and carrying and enormous sword and shield.

LYRIC: Jesus, Christ!

FINESSE: Just look at that armour...

WRAITH: Its an IronKnuckle2.0.

CHRONAL: Look, if this guy's collected a lot of heroes, that's a lot of powers we could use to our advantage! We just have to keep him out of the way!

LYRIC: My sword's still here! So things I've already made must still work!

ANTIHERO: Silence! I weary of your noise!

ANTIHERO stamps one heavy, iron foot, sending a pulse of energy rippling through the room. It hits the Scribblers with a tremendous force, knocking them from their feet.

SHIFT enters Da Pit, still humming softly under her breath. She skips into the kitchen, opens the fridge and scans the contents. She pulls out a big leg of raw meat and examines it, her eyes becoming narrower and yellowing around the edge. Bearing sharp, feline teeth, she rips into the flesh, her hands becoming increasingly claw-like, until she drops to the floor, fully formed cheetah and shreds the meat from the bone.

A sudden sharp ping makes her jump and stare around. A red light is blinking over on the main console in the next room. She pads into the other room, licking her lips.

SHIFT transforms back into human, wearing a flowing red dress, her hair curling up into a twist of its own accord.

SHIFT: Play message.

CONSOLE: Automated message! Distress beacon activated!

SHIFT: Show beacon.

A screen lights up with a satellite map, showing a bleeping light over the disused factory.

SHIFT blinks and shakes her head, leaning suddenly against the console as if for support.

SHIFT: (shakily) Beacon Identity.

CONSOLE: Amity!

SHIFT starts to shake, her skin begins to ripple, as if numerous minute changes were rolling beneath her skin.

SHIFT: So tired... got to wake up...

With a tremendous effort, SHIFT changes into her superhero colours, throwing her head back with a gasp.

SHIFT: (gasping) What even was that?

SHIFT looks herself over, checking for injuries. She glances over at the console.

SHIFT: Amity! Distress Beacon! I've got to get out of here.

She shifts quickly into a peregrine falcon and prepares to swoop out the window, when a small brown rat scuttles across the window frame and stops to stare at her.

SKEE: Squeak!

SHIFT pauses mid-flight and lands next to the rat, quickly transforming herself into one.

SKEE: Where've you been? Anyway, never mind that. Do you have chocolate for me?

SHIFT: I don't have time for this! My friends are in danger.

SKEE: We have the information you wanted.

SHIFT: Power set?

SKEE: Mars Bar?

SHIFT: Wait here.

SHIFT changes into a falcon again and swoops upstairs. She returns moments later carrying a Mars Bar in her claws and drops it by the rat. She quickly shifts back.

SHIFT: Ok, now tell me!

SKEE: Power inhibitor. Superhero powers get weaker the closer you get to him. Some kind of power pulse. Big armour. Big ego.

SKEE rips at the wrapper and begins to devour the chocolate within.

SHIFT: Thanks! Tell Sqeyke he'll get his share later.

SHIFT transforms back into a falcon and swoops out the window.

***