I'll come up with something in a minute.

Twins in Death: Chapter Three – Part One

Twins in Death

A Tale of The Weirdo

By Brett N. Lashuay



Chapter Three: The End of Captain Scourge



December 5th, 1934

5:21 p.m.


            Tommy and The Weirdo were standing near the newly erected Christmas tree and looking out the window. The house had a full compliment of staff in those days and the maids were walking from the storage rooms with boxes of decorations. The Weirdo had asked them to begin decorating, which Tommy had noticed was a full week earlier than he had done last year. The Weirdo had simply explained that he wanted the decorations up to cheer him up more. The last year had been successful but that had meant that they had killed a lot of people. It is hard to gather up Christmas spirit when your clothes are soaked in blood. Hence he thought that if the decorations went up, then he might be more cheerful.


            Tommy was becoming less and less sure about that, every day he noticed. This radical war against the crime syndicates of New York was coming to an end as far as he saw it. The other costumed heroes were all coming up to a point where if the group left off, things would keep for a good long while. Things were coming to a close for them, and Tommy thought that this would be the last Christmas they’d spend together this century.


            He felt that the news of his decision would only go to further prove this theory. There was nothing inherently wrong with change, but change in one area probably meant change in another later. There were going to be a lot of changes, he could tell that. He didn’t know what all of them would be, but he could feel them coming. They were little things like the tree going up so early, and the news he was about to share. 


            “I’m going to get married.” Tommy said as he poured himself a drink.


            “Are you?” The Weirdo asked looking into his glass.


            “Well I’m thinking about it.” Tommy shrugged as he put a few ice cubes into the glass of whiskey.


            “Amy then?”


            “Amy.” Tommy agreed.




            “After I ask her of course.” Tommy said. “I would guess sometime in the New Year.”


            “You think she’d consent to be your bride?” The Weirdo asked pulling open the small refrigerator and taking out a bottle of coca cola.


            “Well why wouldn’t she?”


            “Because you keep strange hours with strange company.” The Weirdo said popping the cap off and pouring the drink into his glass.


            “Just you and Jack.” He said smiling. “James is alright most the time.”


            “Possibly.” The Weirdo said, looking at the tree again.


             “I think she’ll be my wife, yes I do.” Tommy said. “We’ll have two kids and grow old together.”


            “That sounds nice.” The Weirdo said, knowing there was no place for him after the wedding. There would be no place for him for a long time.



March 29th, 2002

8:28 a.m.


            Captain Scourge was feeling pretty good about himself; he was about to return triumphantly. The first foray had been too extreme, just too much going on all at once, that had been the problem. He was going to go for style this time. Besides, he nearly beat The Weirdo the last time they met. It was only by the merest chance that the gray-coated one had beat him. This time there would be no sudden and quick victory for those who stood in his way.


            This time, well this time things would be different. He was going to make people see that he was really a good person, it was just that he’d been bullied. They had just pushed him too far, that was all. He just wanted to have a few friends like everyone else. He wanted to be liked, and have attention like most people. He didn’t have any real plans for world domination. Just a few people would do for him. The only reason for this explanation is to show that he had more than just the naked ambition of the James Bond villain.


            He had changed his outfit a little, even though it was still mostly the same premise. It was a new shirt he was wearing, the gold lightning bolt had been replaced with a large silver one, with more sequins and baubles to catch the light. He wore a large cape now and had large steel cuffs around his wrists to help direct his lightning. What exactly he thought the hip high leather boots lent to the occasion is anyone’s guess. He also had a band of men, because every villain needs a band of men. They weren’t terribly bright, but he would trade up later. That’s what he told himself, that he could get better men later. This time they were just to back him up, to help hold hostages, to get in the way of bullets.


            He sat with his maps and blueprints and looked at his men. He had a phrase all ready in his head. He had actually given one of the boys too much semtex so that when they exploded the vault he could scream that he was only supposed to blow the doors off. He didn’t know where it was from, but he liked the sound of the quote.



March 29th, 2002

1:25 p.m.


            It was a large corporate bank, the sort that had a vault even though most the money was actually upstairs floating between computers. Captain Scourge hadn’t really picked the bank for the money, even though he wanted the bank to wire money to an account he had set up. He was going to hold the place hostage and then blow it up, which would cause a lot of stress. He was proud of his plan because he had been experimenting the last two days with his electromagnetic shield and had come to the conclusion that he could be in the bank when he blew it up and still live.


            It was a pretty good plan and promised to make him rich enough to afford a scheme, which is what he really wanted. While he had been planning this he was thinking of schemes, the problem was a simple one though. Schemes all seemed to cost money to get started, you had to have a plan, then you could have a scheme. He would pull this off and then retreat somewhere and think about the scheme he had in mind and really work it out.  The only thing he had to do was to keep this job together until they had the money, and then blow everyone up.


            Questions like wouldn’t the other banks freeze his accounts, and wouldn’t his attempts to get his money revel his position hadn’t actually occurred to him. Many problems with his plan didn’t really occur to him. The biggest problem didn’t actually occur to anyone, since very few people knew about the random elements that would soon be added.


            They entered the bank, like the sort of bandits he’d seen in the movies, guns drawn and shouting. He floated seven inches above the ground, moving slowly and watching everyone. One of the thugs he had hired shot a guard, and that more or less changed everything. The blood from the security guard was such a vivid color of red as it sprayed onto the floor. The man fell dead, allowing for the spray to spread at a more leisurely pace.


            Another guard came around a corner, his gun in hand, and was cut down by two of the thugs at once.  Captain Scourge extended his hand and let electricity dance from his fingers. There was a loud crack and a woman fell dead, her singed hair smoking, small flames dancing from her suit.


            “Bring out the manager.” Captain Scourge said. “We’ve got some things to discuss.”



March 29th, 2002

2:09 p.m.


            “Breaker, Breaker, this is Pig Pen.” Tommy’s voice came from the small pen like device on the table. “You got a copy on me Rubber Duck, c’mon?”


            The Weirdo looked at the communicator and thought about just ignoring it. He was thinking about better times, and this was an interruption. He picked it up, considered it for a moment and decided that he would at least see what was going on.


            “Ten four Pig Pen.”


            “Rubber Duck, what’s your twenty?”


            “I’m still at the cabin.” The Weirdo said.


            “Would you mind high tailing it back home? We’ve got a bit of a situation here.”


            “What sort of situation.”


            “Captain Scourge came back.”


            “I’m sure The Spook Patrol would be more than capable, Pig Pen. Or the Glams, get the Glams to do it.”


            “Come again Rubber Duck?” Tommy asked.


            “I’m tired of fighting, Tommy.” The Weirdo said. “We should just stop fighting, it’s not our problem anymore.”


            This if nothing else should show The Weirdo’s mood. No matter how bad or desperate things had gotten, The Weirdo always used the handles over the communicator, it was part of the rules. He had never once before slipped up in the least.



© 2012 Autumn Knight Productions

June 21, 2012 Posted by | Fiction | , | Leave a comment