Chapter One
June 10th, 11:32 AM
Margot hummed to herself as she sat at the kitchen table, flipping through a magazine, sipping her coffee. It was a cool, crisp morning, and the breeze passing through the open window fluttered her close-cropped, reddish-brown hair. For a moment, for the first moment in a long, long time, her mind felt at peace. Peace that was suddenly interrupted by a horrible hacking sound coming from the hallway.
Margot knew what was happening, knew she couldn't really help. But it was her duty as a good friend to at these get up and ask. She set her coffee down and walked toward the bathroom, where perched in front of the toilet, wearing bright red bra and panties with black lines of text, hair sticking to her sweat-stained face, was her roommate and crimefighting partner, Erin Steele, puking her guts out.
"Are you okay?" Margot asked, perfunctorily.
"Yeah," Erin muttered, coughing into the bowl. "I'm fine."
She was sitting on her knees, her hands loosely on the rim of the toilet, her face and neck covered and sweat, her skin blanched. Even in this state, Erin couldn't disguise what a beauty she was, but there was no question she had been letting herself go. Margot looked at her arms and saw none of the muscle definition that used to be her pride, noticed that her stomach rolled into a little potbelly, saw her thigh muscles drooping lazily on the floor. She saw, too, that the text on her underwear was just the word "Slut" written again and again in different fonts.
"What are you wearing?" Margot asked.
Erin flushed the toilet, sat back against the bathroom wall, and looked up at her friend.
"Do you like them? I'm trying something new."
"Humiliating yourself?" Margot asked, crossing her arms.
Erin nodded. "Might as well."
"Might as well." This had been Erin's hopeless motto ever since that fateful morning she'd come home, clad only in a massive men's softball T-shirt, her eyes bloodshot, blubbering "he knows, he knows, he knows." Margot had taken her in her arms, held her for hours, eventually put her to bed. When Erin awoke, she didn't want to talk; in fact, she had hardly talked to Margot at all in the past two weeks. She no longer spent nights in the costume of the Blue Lynx-- Margot eventually figured out that the Spaniel had stolen Erin's spandex right off of her body-- but rather at the bar, inhaling shot after shot, coming home late, getting up late, throwing up.
She slept through most the day, and drank through most of the night. And whenever Margot asked why, she'd said the same thing. "Might as well."
It was awful to see, and Margot felt incredible pity for her friend. But in the past couple of days, a new sense of anger had crept into Margot's conscience. Erin was wallowing. She was acting like a child. She was better than this.
"Get up, Erin," Margot commanded. "We're going outside, today. And not to the bar."
"Outside? To do what?" Erin said, uneasily, using the bathroom wall to scrabble up to her feet.
"Well, to get you back in shape, for starters," Margot said. "You're losing all your muscle mass."
Erin looked down at her rounded stomach. Margot knew she felt ashamed, but Erin attempted to cover it up with a smile.
"Could still beat you," she said with a small laugh, poking Margot in the chest.
Margot's reaction was instantaneous. Her hand shot out, seized Erin's wrist, and bent it back. Erin squealed in pain and fell back to her knees.
"Ahhh..." she said. "Let me go!"
Margot smiled a secret smile. What she hadn't told Erin-- because Erin didn't want to talk at all-- was that while Erin had been sleeping and drinking, she had been training. She had gotten stronger and faster, more agile, had researched new fighting techniques. She invested all of her free time into a single mission: becoming the Blue Lynx's replacement. If Erin couldn't fight crime-- if she was being forced by the Spaniel to throw in the towel-- then the sidekick would have to step up.
She finally released Erin's wrist, and Erin fell to a crawling position.
"See?" Margot said. "If I can take down the Blue Lynx with just one hand, then you know something's wrong."
Erin stared up at her friend with a morbid expression. "The Blue Lynx is dead," she intoned.
"No, she isn't," Margot said. She bent down and set her hand on Erin's shoulder. "She's just in hiding. Waiting to make her next move. Waiting for Erin Steele to stop throwing up."
Erin brushed Margot's hand off and turned away. She knew that this wasn't right, that this wasn't her. Margot heard her whimper, and imagined the thoughts racing in her brain. Erin had been pushed to the brink, and it looked like the Spaniel had removed the Blue Lynx from the city forever. But Margot couldn't give up hope. They'd get their chance. They'd find a way.
There was a sudden KA-CHUNK from outside of the front door. Margot stood up.
"The mail!" she said. "Hopefully it's my new phone!"
She left Erin crumpled over in the hallway, a mess of hair and sweat and self-defeating red lingerie, and opened the door. There was no package in the mailbox-- just a manila envelope with the girls' address and two words written in bold, uppercase letters:
BLUE LYNX
On to Chapter Two
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Two
Chapter Two
June 10th, 1:15 PM
Erin couldn't open the envelope immediately.
"Give me a second," she'd told Margot, and then proceeded to take an hour long shower. She then dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and put on fresh jean shorts and a top for the first time in a while. Margot had stopped waiting for her at this point, and was reading a magazine on the couch when Erin came into the living room, cleaned up and finally ready to deal with whatever disaster this envelope entailed.
"The suspense has been killing me," Margot said. She sounded excited. She had never seemed to fully grasp just what it meant, the Spaniel knowing the Blue Lynx's secret. But then again, Erin had barely talked to her about it, so how could she know?
"Alright," Erin said, taking the envelope from the kitchen table. "Let's do this."
She slipped her finger underneath the flap and paused. This wasn't going to be good. "You don't have to open it," she thought to herself. "Just... Don't worry about it."
She could toss it in the trash, crawl back in bed, let the Spaniel come get her if he wanted, what did she care...
But the look of expectation on Margot's face was too much. Erin slid her fingernail across the envelope, tore it open, and brought out two sheets of folded white paper. She opened them up and saw long typewritten letter, which she promptly read.
Miss Steele,
Salutations. I probably don't have to tell you, but this is the Spaniel, aka the city's GREATEST SUPERHERO, aka your CONQUEROR, aka the keeper of your SECRET IDENTITY.
How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks, hahaha. Have you been watching the news? I have been on fire lately. I successfully rounded up the remaining Rattlesnakes. I'm now the talk of the town, people love me, they can't get enough of me. And the Blue Lynx? People aren't even asking where she is. The city has accepted me, and only me, as their protector. And I must say, I'm not letting them down. Unlike some other superheroines they've seen...
Anyway, let's get down to business. Let me just say first that you have been doing a superb job at NOT being the Blue Lynx. You've been a very good little obedient girl, being Miss Mild-Mannered Erin and nobody else, and you clearly took my words to heart. (Though maybe you should find a hobby that's not getting drunk every night-- yes, I have been watching.) I hope you have noticed-- and APPRECIATED-- that I have been a man of my word. I have not uttered a peep regarding you, the Blue Lynx, or your unlikely connection since our last encounter. I am KEEPING your identity a SECRET. I'm doing you a FAVOR, Miss Steele, and I think it's time you return it.
Which is why I'm writing a special request. To put it simply: I need upgrades. I've studied all the tools in your belt, all your little gadgets. They're pretty good-- whoever designed them for you... There's no way you did it yourself... deserves a round of applause-- but I want things that are even better. I deserve things that are the best, if I plan to keep protecting the city.
Unfortunately, I'm no tech expert, and I am short on cash. This is where YOU come in. What I need you to do is send me some of your daddy's money. I know he's loaded, and I know a spoiled little brat like you can find a way to get it. You might already have it, actually. I'm not asking for a lot: just $2,000. Send it via PayGrid. My account name is TheBrianNelson.
Two thousand dollars, Miss Steele. By tonight. 2,000 at 10 PM or earlier, or your secret is, well, no longer. For the good of the city-- and for the good of yourself-- I strongly suggest you help me.
Until we meet again,
The Spaniel
P.S.: forgive me for addressing this envelope to the Blue Lynx. Cheeky, I know. But the mail guys don't read the names anymore, right? It's all scanning. Your secret is safe with me and the post office, hahaha
Erin set the letter down on the kitchen table, fell into a chair, and sighed.
"What?" Margot asked. "What's going on?"
"He's blackmailing me," Erin said. "He wants two thousand dollars by tonight, or he goes public with my secret identity."
Margot gasped. "Two thousand?"
Erin nodded. Her hand balled up into a fist on the table. "That bastard," she muttered.
Two thousand wasn't horrible. Erin could pay it: she had enough in her account to do it immediately, without even having to ask her "daddy." But was her secret worth protecting at all, anymore? Especially if this was just the beginning. Knowing the Spaniel, this was probably a mere introduction to the ways he planned to use and abuse the Blue Lynx.
"Are you going to do it?" Margot asked.
"I don't think I have a choice," Erin replied. She stood up from the chair. "But this is it. I'm not going to let this idiot push me around, after this."
She could see Margot beaming. "So... you wanna go outside and train with me today?"
"I'll make this payment first," Erin said. "Get it out of the way. And then, yes. We'll train."
Margot jumped up from the couch, ran at Erin, and wrapped her in a big, surprisingly muscular hug.
On to Chapter Three
June 10th, 1:15 PM
Erin couldn't open the envelope immediately.
"Give me a second," she'd told Margot, and then proceeded to take an hour long shower. She then dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and put on fresh jean shorts and a top for the first time in a while. Margot had stopped waiting for her at this point, and was reading a magazine on the couch when Erin came into the living room, cleaned up and finally ready to deal with whatever disaster this envelope entailed.
"The suspense has been killing me," Margot said. She sounded excited. She had never seemed to fully grasp just what it meant, the Spaniel knowing the Blue Lynx's secret. But then again, Erin had barely talked to her about it, so how could she know?
"Alright," Erin said, taking the envelope from the kitchen table. "Let's do this."
She slipped her finger underneath the flap and paused. This wasn't going to be good. "You don't have to open it," she thought to herself. "Just... Don't worry about it."
She could toss it in the trash, crawl back in bed, let the Spaniel come get her if he wanted, what did she care...
But the look of expectation on Margot's face was too much. Erin slid her fingernail across the envelope, tore it open, and brought out two sheets of folded white paper. She opened them up and saw long typewritten letter, which she promptly read.
Miss Steele,
Salutations. I probably don't have to tell you, but this is the Spaniel, aka the city's GREATEST SUPERHERO, aka your CONQUEROR, aka the keeper of your SECRET IDENTITY.
How are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks, hahaha. Have you been watching the news? I have been on fire lately. I successfully rounded up the remaining Rattlesnakes. I'm now the talk of the town, people love me, they can't get enough of me. And the Blue Lynx? People aren't even asking where she is. The city has accepted me, and only me, as their protector. And I must say, I'm not letting them down. Unlike some other superheroines they've seen...
Anyway, let's get down to business. Let me just say first that you have been doing a superb job at NOT being the Blue Lynx. You've been a very good little obedient girl, being Miss Mild-Mannered Erin and nobody else, and you clearly took my words to heart. (Though maybe you should find a hobby that's not getting drunk every night-- yes, I have been watching.) I hope you have noticed-- and APPRECIATED-- that I have been a man of my word. I have not uttered a peep regarding you, the Blue Lynx, or your unlikely connection since our last encounter. I am KEEPING your identity a SECRET. I'm doing you a FAVOR, Miss Steele, and I think it's time you return it.
Which is why I'm writing a special request. To put it simply: I need upgrades. I've studied all the tools in your belt, all your little gadgets. They're pretty good-- whoever designed them for you... There's no way you did it yourself... deserves a round of applause-- but I want things that are even better. I deserve things that are the best, if I plan to keep protecting the city.
Unfortunately, I'm no tech expert, and I am short on cash. This is where YOU come in. What I need you to do is send me some of your daddy's money. I know he's loaded, and I know a spoiled little brat like you can find a way to get it. You might already have it, actually. I'm not asking for a lot: just $2,000. Send it via PayGrid. My account name is TheBrianNelson.
Two thousand dollars, Miss Steele. By tonight. 2,000 at 10 PM or earlier, or your secret is, well, no longer. For the good of the city-- and for the good of yourself-- I strongly suggest you help me.
Until we meet again,
The Spaniel
P.S.: forgive me for addressing this envelope to the Blue Lynx. Cheeky, I know. But the mail guys don't read the names anymore, right? It's all scanning. Your secret is safe with me and the post office, hahaha
Erin set the letter down on the kitchen table, fell into a chair, and sighed.
"What?" Margot asked. "What's going on?"
"He's blackmailing me," Erin said. "He wants two thousand dollars by tonight, or he goes public with my secret identity."
Margot gasped. "Two thousand?"
Erin nodded. Her hand balled up into a fist on the table. "That bastard," she muttered.
Two thousand wasn't horrible. Erin could pay it: she had enough in her account to do it immediately, without even having to ask her "daddy." But was her secret worth protecting at all, anymore? Especially if this was just the beginning. Knowing the Spaniel, this was probably a mere introduction to the ways he planned to use and abuse the Blue Lynx.
"Are you going to do it?" Margot asked.
"I don't think I have a choice," Erin replied. She stood up from the chair. "But this is it. I'm not going to let this idiot push me around, after this."
She could see Margot beaming. "So... you wanna go outside and train with me today?"
"I'll make this payment first," Erin said. "Get it out of the way. And then, yes. We'll train."
Margot jumped up from the couch, ran at Erin, and wrapped her in a big, surprisingly muscular hug.
On to Chapter Three
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Three
June 13th, 12:43 PM
The girls were still covered in sweat when they got back from their run and found another manila envelope sticking out of the mailbox.
"Shit," Erin said, taking the package inside. This one was addressed like the other, the words BLUE LYNX several times larger than the rest.
Erin had known the Spaniel would be reaching out to her again; it was one of the reasons why she and Margot had been training so hard the past couple of days. But she didn't expect the next letter to come so soon.
"Just open it," Margot said, taking a seat on the couch. "Get it over with."
Erin nodded and ripped the envelope in half, revealing two more pages of typewritten text. She read it slowly and carefully.
Miss Steele,
Salutations. It's the Spaniel again. Remember me? I'm the man who BEAT you, who ROBBED you of your costume, who knows your GREATEST SECRET. I'm not sure if you've been watching TV. I was on again last night, though. Another heist foiled. I'm an unstoppable machine right now, Miss Steele. I do hope you are tuning in like the rest of the city.
I was impressed by the speed with which you "responded" to my last letter. Two thousand dollars really doesn't mean much to you, does it, rich girl? Well, rest assured that I will use it wisely. I don't plan to blow it all on alcohol, anyway, as you have been doing so regularly as of late.
You have been such a good little girl, Miss Steele. Whatever I've asked you to do, you've done. Which is why I'm writing today to ask you, no, TELL you to continue obeying me. There's something I want, something I need your help to get. I've been shutting down drug houses, gathering clues, observing things, and it's my theory that the man behind much of our city's problem is none other than your DADDY's political rival: Brent Hammerson, the Speaker of the House. Though he is currently in a coma, he's still got influence all over town. I'd like nothing more than to get inside Hammerson's house and get some evidence to prove my theory. Unfortunately, his mansion is currently crawling with more guards than the Spaniel wants to deal with.
What I need from you, Miss Steele, is for you to get inside Hammerson's house and find me something. Luckily for us, Hammerson's cronies are hosting a party for him this Saturday-- a sort of fundraiser for their PATHETIC efforts at rehabilitation. I need you to go to this party. The guards will let you in: surely there's SOME reason for the mayor's daughter to be on Hammerson's property. Get into his office and get a document or something proving that it is HE who is responsible for the city's drug trade, and I PROMISE I'll keep your identity a secret for... the near future...
The party is this Saturday at 7. Be there, Miss Steele. May I suggest wearing a nice cocktail dress? It might help you charm your way past Hammerson's men, hahaha.
Get a document. Bring it to me by the end of this Sunday. Or else.
Sincerely,
The Spaniel
P.S.: I brought out your Blue Lynx costume today, could still smell you on it. So nice. How much do you think I could get selling it on Ebay? Five hundred? A thousand? I'll bet there's some pervert out there who'd just loooove to have this piece of superheroine HISTORY. (By which I mean, THE PAST, hahaha.)
Erin smashed the letter into a ball and chucked it against the floor.
"Not good?" Margot asked.
"That bastard," Erin seethed. "That lousy little bastard."
"What?" Margot said. "What's going on?"
"He's blackmailing me, again," Erin said. "But this time, he doesn't want money. He wants me to infiltrate one of Hammerson's parties and bring back some evidence proving that he's responsible for the city's drug problem."
Margot shrugged. "Umm... Don't we have plenty of evidence to do that, already?"
Erin shook her head and sat down next to her friend. "We have photos. But we don't have documents. That's what the Spaniel wants. Some sort of hard evidence linking Hammerson to his criminal empire."
"Doesn't he know that Hammerson's in a coma?"
Erin clicked her tongue. "See, that's what I don't understand. Why does the Spaniel even care? Hammerson is barely a threat anymore."
"He probably doesn't care," Margot sighed. "He probably just wants to push you around."
"I know," Erin said. "But, again, I don't really have a choice, do I? I'm not ready to fight yet. I'm still out of shape. I don't even have a costume."
"Let me help," Margot said, resting her hand on Erin's leg. "I'll go get the Spaniel. I'll force him to give up this game."
Erin laughed. "He won't stop, Margot. If you went to see him, he'd probably know immediately that you're on my side, and then, BOOM... The world would know all about the Blue Lynx."
Margot shut her eyes. "There just has to be a way. A way that doesn't involve him torturing you... Humiliating you..."
"There is a way," Erin said. "We'll find it. And we'll make the Spaniel pay."
"For now," she continued, stepping up off the couch. "I need to find a dress for this party."
On to Chapter Four
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Four
Chapter Four
June 16th, 6:55 PM
As Margot drove her over to Hammerson's house, Erin had to constantly pull the hem of her silver sequined dress down. The spaghetti-strapped, tight mini stopped several inches above her knees when she was standing, and each bump along the road pushed it further up her thighs. She tried crossing her legs, but found that only bunched the skirt up past her butt and groin, which was a problem: Erin wasn't wearing any underwear tonight.
Her face had blushed red. "I think the dress might a little too skimpy," she said.
"Nonsense," Margot replied. She looked over at her friend working helplessly at the hem. "I'm sure everyone there will love it."
That was true. In a StayPuft Marshmallow costume, Erin would have been a knockout. In a little thing this tight and tiny, she was practically irresistible, which might come in handy when trying to sneak around Hammerson's house.
They drove through the massive iron gates of Hammerson's property and up the long unpaved road to his manor, a massive three-story stone structure built in a Grecian style. It wasn't an attractive house, to Erin, but it was definitely something. How could Hammerson get away with a residence so opulent, and inside city limits? He was so obviously corrupt; a mere picture of his mansion more than proved he had something going on besides lawmaking.
Margot pulled into the parking area next to the house, where a few dozen cars were already situated.
"Looks like it's gonna be a rager," Margot said. "Who knew Hammerson had friends?"
Erin nodded and smiled, watching an elaborately dressed old couple get out of their gleaming Italian sports car.
"I'd better get going," she said, setting her purse on her shoulder. "Maybe I can get lost in the crowd."
"You've got your phone?"
Margot had already asked that question several times tonight. The answer, of course, was "yes." Erin did have the crappy flip-phone that Margot had purchased for her to replace her previous smartphone, which had been confiscated by the Spaniel. Until Margot could install the Blue Lynx technology onto something more sophisticated, it would have to do.
Erin nodded. "I'll call you if anything happens."
"Remember, I can't see what's going on in there," Margot said. "So please let me know."
"I will," Erin said, and meant it. She owed Margot, big time. She had helped her get back into physical and emotional shape the past week, and encouraged her to never give up hope. And somewhere along the way, Margot had become a pretty capable fighter, even beating Erin a few times when they sparred. She didn't want to have to call the Black Bobcat in tonight, but she knew that if she did, Margot would be up to the task.
"Have fun," Margot said, grinning. "I'll hang out here."
"Thanks," Erin replied, with a smirk of her own. She stepped out of the car, gave her dress a mighty tug, and walked toward Hammerson's front door, moving gingerly on the heels of her white stilettos, filing behind a tall, broad man in a grey suit.
She looked ahead of the line, and noticed there were two men at the entrance acting as security. They were dressed in a manner alarmingly (or maybe, fittingly) close to the way Hammerson's thugs used to dress, and they were packing heat: she noticed holstered pistols on each man's hip. They appeared to be asking for invitations, which Erin didn't have.
Erin watched as they admitted the tall man in front of her, and then it was her turn. The guards gazed at her with blank, unforgiving expressions.
"Do you have an invitation, miss?" the one on the left side of the door said.
Erin smiled and batted her eyes. "I don't," she cooed. "I'm afraid I couldn't fit it anywhere on this dress." She spread her legs apart the slightest bit, allowing the hem of her skirt to again creep up her thighs.
"Sorry ma'am," the other man intoned. "If you don't have an invitation, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Erin made an exaggerated move toward her purse, bending over, giving the guards a rather intimate look at her chest. "Oh, it must be in here somewhere," she said. "It's just this purse is so... Frustrating..."
"Listen ma'am," the first guard said, his voice deeper and louder than before. "You're not going to seduce your way into Mr. Hammerson's house. I'm giving you to the count of ten. If you can't find that invitation, we will escort you off of the premises."
Erin hadn't expected her main tactic to be foiled so quickly. "Oh crap," she thought. "What do I do now?"
"Let me see your ID," the second guard said. "We'll check your name on the list."
Erin couldn't have them do that. "But," she thought. "I could..."
"... I'm Erin Steele," she said. "Mayor Steele's daughter. I'm here on behalf of the Steele family."
"The Mayor?" the first guard said, squinting his eyes at her. "Oh. You're right. Hello, Miss Steele. You can go right in."
The tension in Erin's body melted away. "Phew," she thought. She performed an embellished eye-roll and began to sashay inside, but was blocked at the last moment by the second guard's arm.
"Wait just a minute," he said. "Why would the Mayor need to send anyone to this fundraiser? The Mayor hates Mr. Hammerson."
Erin gulped. "It's, uh... For the sake of civility. In politics."
The first guard swatted the second guard away. "Yeah, man. Lighten up. The girl is here as an ambassador for peace."
The second guard shook his head, returning his hand to his side slowly. "Hmm," he said. "Alright. But we'll be watching you, Miss Steele."
Erin thought about sticking out her tongue at the guard, but refrained. She just closed her eyes and smiled, and strutted through the impressive double door entrance.
The interior of Hammerson's house was even more impressive than its edifice, and Erin found herself in a great room with all of the trappings of grotesque wealth: A roaring fireplace covering half a wall. A brilliant chandelier twirling above her head. A main staircase that was ten feet wide and covered with immaculate red carpet. Round tables with tablecloths covered in all kinds of decadent delights: truffles, caviar, champagne. It was breathtaking, but not necessarily in a good way: even though the room was sprawling, able to accommodate at least a hundred people (Erin's quick estimate of how many formally dressed dignitaries stood around, laughing and munching on snacks, plus at least four guards), Erin felt oppressed.
She recognized a few faces, people she had seen on TV, people she had been forced to shake hands with at dumb political gatherings. They were scumbags, most of them-- why else would they be at a fundraiser for Brent Hammerson?-- and she hoped to avoid them if she could. She kept her face down and wandered over to the long table at the side of the room that was being used as a bar.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" the mustached man on the other side of the table said.
"Just a seltzer water, please," Erin said.
The man shrugged and promptly poured Erin a glass of sparkling fluid, passing it across the table.
"Thank you," she said. She went to pick it up and take a sip.
"Erin Steele!" a voice said.
She turned to her side. Standing at the bar was a middle-aged woman in a long-sleeved red dress, holding a wine glass and staring at Erin with bemused look. What was her name? Catherine... Lilac? Something like that. She was one of Hammerson's chief allies in the House, and therefore, not a friend of her father's.
"Oh hi!" Erin said, with false enthusiasm.
"Fancy seeing you here!" Catherine said. "It's been so, so long. You on a mission from your father?"
"I'm on a mission, alright," Erin thought.
"Umm, yeah," Erin said. "He just figured I should stop in and, you know, pay my respects."
Catherine laughed. "Now when has your father ever respected Mr. Hammerson?"
That was a good question. Erin tried to laugh it off. "It's, you know, just the right thing to do. Civility in politics, and all that."
It was a clumsy explanation, but everyone seemed to love it. Catherine raised her wine glass up and winked at Erin.
"I'll drink to that," she said, inhaling the remainder of her beverage.
"Cheers," Erin said, trying to walk away. Catherine moved to protest, but both women stopped when they heard a clinking sound.
"Alright everybody," a voice boomed from the center of the room. Erin traced it to a small man that she didn't recognize, one hand on a glass, the other on a microphone. "At this time, we have a dear friend of Mr. Hammerson's who'd like to say a few words. Mrs. Sunflower, the mic is yours."
Sunflower? Erin stepped from the bar and stood on her tip-toes. She could see the small man passing the microphone off to a woman with long bleached-blonde hair, glasses, and a tight black dress. She wasn't wearing leather, but Erin knew immediately who "Mrs. Sunflower" was, and gritted her teeth when the woman began to speak.
"Good evening," she said. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Regina Sunflower, and I'm a long time family friend of the Hammerson family."
Erin couldn't believe this. Was she living in a dream? Was Sunny, the woman who so ruthlessly carried out so many of her boss's vile plans, who had nearly defeated the Blue Lynx on multiple occasions, actually standing up and giving a formal speech? And just being welcomed, at this gala, like she was any other upstanding member of the community?
"I guess no one here's particularly upstanding," Erin thought. "And most of them probably don't know what I do about 'Regina Sunflower.'"
"I'm so honored, so very glad, that everyone could be here tonight. Brent... means a lot to me. And he means a lot to this city. Since he's been..." Sunny paused, sniffing into the microphone for emphasis, "...Out... The city has seen even more costumed menaces on the streets. The vigilantes who Brent so ardently tried to crush have now... Taken over."
Erin almost scoffed out loud. She could hear mumbling through the crowd, people whispering the words "Blue Lynx" and "Spaniel" and "terrorists" and "freaks." They were eating from the palm of Sunny's perfectly manicured hand. All eyes were on her.
"This could be my chance to sneak away," Erin thought. But she had to admit that she was curious to see where Sunny was taking this. She set her glass down on the bar.
"Lawlessness is the rule in the city," Sunny continued. "The Mayor... The Mayor..."
A few loud boos resounded through the great room. Erin looked from side to side. Had anyone noticed she was there? It didn't seem like it.
Sunny held out her hand. "The Mayor is trying, but not hard enough. If we want to be rid of these "superheroes" for good, we need Brent back. We need Brent back, NOW!"
The room erupted into deafening applause. Erin clapped a slow, heartless rhythm along with the crowd. She couldn't believe anyone could be into this crap. The Blue Lynx was obviously on the city's side. Why did they hate her so much?
"So please, donate what you can tonight," Sunny announced. "We are currently working on an experimental technology that will have Brent back in action soon, very soon. In no time at all, he'll be back to skinning Blue Lynxes! And putting Spaniels back in the doghouse!"
The applause was even louder this time, mixed in with guffaws and the stomping of feet. Erin couldn't take it anymore. She ducked down and weaved her way through the people, whispering to herself that she was only "looking for a bathroom," eager to silence "Mrs. Sunflower's" ridiculous rant.
"Brent cares!" Sunny called out. "Which is why we are investing in the most far-reaching care..."
Erin quietly crept out of the great room and found herself in a hallway. It was a long, mostly dark space, with just a few fake candles along the walls. They obviously didn't want partygoers coming here, as the two guards standing on either side of the hallway only made clearer.
"You there," one of them said, stepping toward Erin. "What are you doing back here? Party's in the big room."
"Oh sorry, guy," Erin said, trying to slur her words. "Umm... I'm just looking for the bathroom."
"Bathroom's the other way," the guard on her right said. "You go back out, take a right, go straight, and you'll see it."
Erin spun around, doing a little drunken dance. "Wait... Which way?" She pointed at the guard, and then at the wall behind him, and then at the doors she had entered through. She noticed the second guard coming her way now. Good.
The first guard sighed. "Listen, lady. You need to leave."
"Oh, yeah, and why's that?" Erin said, rolling her eyes wildly. Both guards were within a few feet of her now.
The first guard nodded at the second guard. "Could you get her out of here?"
The second guard moved to grab her, and Erin struck. She stepped on the guard's toe and lifted a punch up through his chin. He stumbled back into the wall, and Erin pounced at the first guard, wrapping herself around his neck, forcing him into a chokehold. He tried reaching for his gun, and Erin kicked his hand away with her stiletto heel. It took ten seconds for him to begin to lose consciousness. As he fell to his knees, the second guard pushed off the wall, leaping at Erin. She corralled the guard by the neck and directed him at the opposite wall, which he met primarily with his face. He gradually slumped to the ground, joining his partner in a knocked out heap on the elaborately rug-strewn hallway floor.
Erin looked down at the guards, grinned, and pulled down the dress that had bunched up near the top of her thighs. She wasn't in the best fighting attire-- but she was pleased that she could still fight. She hadn't had such a seamless battle in what seemed like months.
"Way to go, Blue Lynx," she thought. "Now let's have a look around."
She proceeded down the hallway on quiet but determined steps, passing a few open doorways. One appeared to lead into a spectacularly furnished dining room, the other to a kind of generic (to Erin, pointless) sitting room. Neither seemed like places to stash sensitive documents. More promising was the third portal Erin arrived at, a closed, heavy-looking door with a metal keypad near the handle.
"Hello there," Erin whispered, attempting to pull the handle. It didn't budge, of course. Erin tapped around the door frame, looking for a weak way in, but found nothing. If she wanted to get into this room, she'd have to try and crack its code.
"Here goes nothing," she thought, typing in 2-5-8-3-5-9-6-9.
She was pleasantly surprised, but not terribly shocked, when the keypad's light flashed green. "All he can think about is the Blue Lynx," she thought, pushing down the handle and opening the heavy door.
Erin flicked on the light switch, and found herself in a simple, sparsely furnished office. There was a medium-sized black desk with a laptop, a few basic office chairs, a book shelf with a few volumes, a file cabinet, a wastebasket. The contrast with the rest of Hammerson's mansion was striking, and almost a little disturbing-- Erin felt like she had stepped into a completely different building. The only thing about it resembling what she had seen thus far tonight was the set of large, ornately decorated windows looking out on an expansive backyard. She quickly shut the door and moved to the windows, pulling red curtains across the glass.
"This must be where Hammerson works," she thought, turning around in the room, still try to make sense of its minimalism. "Or at least, where he does his 'work.'" Surely there would be something here she could use...
She went to the desk and flipped up the laptop. Surprisingly, the computer was still on. The screen asked for a username and password.
"Not sure if I'll get lucky twice," Erin thought. She decided to check out the file cabinet. She pulled at its top handle and found it was locked. She pulled at the next; it was locked as well. Every drawer in the cabinet ended up being tightly secured.
"Dammit," she thought, moving back to the desk. She tried its top drawer and found a pencil, a pistol, and a set of keys on a ring. Bingo.
Erin took the keys to the file cabinet and, after fumbling through four or five different options, found a way to open the top drawer. Inside the cabinet was a series of simple manila file folders, each one marked with a tab, each tab with a word or two written in black sharpie.
"Let's see," Erin thought, scanning the tabs. "We've got MY PEOPLE, PAYMENTS RECEIVED, PAYMENTS DUE, PROPERTIES, DRUGS: FORMULA, DRUGS: RATES, LAWSUITS..." She smiled. "These look promising."
Suddenly, the silence of the room was exploded by a knocking at the door. Erin froze, her fingernails deep in the folders, and turned her head. It was then that she saw, just above the door, a small camera.
"Shit."
The door flew open, and guards came pouring into the room. At first, Erin felt like she had a hope, and she dispensed with the first two men who came her way with ease, kicking them into separate corners with little regard for how her dress rode up on her legs. But as pairs of guards kept coming, filling up the spare room with their boots, their weapons, their bulk, her enthusiasm gradually subsided. They were getting closer, were soon on her, were then deflecting her attacks, grappling her, pinning her arms to her side. There were now ten of them, fifteen, twenty, and just when it hit her that she no longer stood a chance, the end of a gun slammed into her temple, rendering her unconscious.
On to Chapter Five
June 16th, 6:55 PM
As Margot drove her over to Hammerson's house, Erin had to constantly pull the hem of her silver sequined dress down. The spaghetti-strapped, tight mini stopped several inches above her knees when she was standing, and each bump along the road pushed it further up her thighs. She tried crossing her legs, but found that only bunched the skirt up past her butt and groin, which was a problem: Erin wasn't wearing any underwear tonight.
Her face had blushed red. "I think the dress might a little too skimpy," she said.
"Nonsense," Margot replied. She looked over at her friend working helplessly at the hem. "I'm sure everyone there will love it."
That was true. In a StayPuft Marshmallow costume, Erin would have been a knockout. In a little thing this tight and tiny, she was practically irresistible, which might come in handy when trying to sneak around Hammerson's house.
They drove through the massive iron gates of Hammerson's property and up the long unpaved road to his manor, a massive three-story stone structure built in a Grecian style. It wasn't an attractive house, to Erin, but it was definitely something. How could Hammerson get away with a residence so opulent, and inside city limits? He was so obviously corrupt; a mere picture of his mansion more than proved he had something going on besides lawmaking.
Margot pulled into the parking area next to the house, where a few dozen cars were already situated.
"Looks like it's gonna be a rager," Margot said. "Who knew Hammerson had friends?"
Erin nodded and smiled, watching an elaborately dressed old couple get out of their gleaming Italian sports car.
"I'd better get going," she said, setting her purse on her shoulder. "Maybe I can get lost in the crowd."
"You've got your phone?"
Margot had already asked that question several times tonight. The answer, of course, was "yes." Erin did have the crappy flip-phone that Margot had purchased for her to replace her previous smartphone, which had been confiscated by the Spaniel. Until Margot could install the Blue Lynx technology onto something more sophisticated, it would have to do.
Erin nodded. "I'll call you if anything happens."
"Remember, I can't see what's going on in there," Margot said. "So please let me know."
"I will," Erin said, and meant it. She owed Margot, big time. She had helped her get back into physical and emotional shape the past week, and encouraged her to never give up hope. And somewhere along the way, Margot had become a pretty capable fighter, even beating Erin a few times when they sparred. She didn't want to have to call the Black Bobcat in tonight, but she knew that if she did, Margot would be up to the task.
"Have fun," Margot said, grinning. "I'll hang out here."
"Thanks," Erin replied, with a smirk of her own. She stepped out of the car, gave her dress a mighty tug, and walked toward Hammerson's front door, moving gingerly on the heels of her white stilettos, filing behind a tall, broad man in a grey suit.
She looked ahead of the line, and noticed there were two men at the entrance acting as security. They were dressed in a manner alarmingly (or maybe, fittingly) close to the way Hammerson's thugs used to dress, and they were packing heat: she noticed holstered pistols on each man's hip. They appeared to be asking for invitations, which Erin didn't have.
Erin watched as they admitted the tall man in front of her, and then it was her turn. The guards gazed at her with blank, unforgiving expressions.
"Do you have an invitation, miss?" the one on the left side of the door said.
Erin smiled and batted her eyes. "I don't," she cooed. "I'm afraid I couldn't fit it anywhere on this dress." She spread her legs apart the slightest bit, allowing the hem of her skirt to again creep up her thighs.
"Sorry ma'am," the other man intoned. "If you don't have an invitation, I'll have to ask you to leave."
Erin made an exaggerated move toward her purse, bending over, giving the guards a rather intimate look at her chest. "Oh, it must be in here somewhere," she said. "It's just this purse is so... Frustrating..."
"Listen ma'am," the first guard said, his voice deeper and louder than before. "You're not going to seduce your way into Mr. Hammerson's house. I'm giving you to the count of ten. If you can't find that invitation, we will escort you off of the premises."
Erin hadn't expected her main tactic to be foiled so quickly. "Oh crap," she thought. "What do I do now?"
"Let me see your ID," the second guard said. "We'll check your name on the list."
Erin couldn't have them do that. "But," she thought. "I could..."
"... I'm Erin Steele," she said. "Mayor Steele's daughter. I'm here on behalf of the Steele family."
"The Mayor?" the first guard said, squinting his eyes at her. "Oh. You're right. Hello, Miss Steele. You can go right in."
The tension in Erin's body melted away. "Phew," she thought. She performed an embellished eye-roll and began to sashay inside, but was blocked at the last moment by the second guard's arm.
"Wait just a minute," he said. "Why would the Mayor need to send anyone to this fundraiser? The Mayor hates Mr. Hammerson."
Erin gulped. "It's, uh... For the sake of civility. In politics."
The first guard swatted the second guard away. "Yeah, man. Lighten up. The girl is here as an ambassador for peace."
The second guard shook his head, returning his hand to his side slowly. "Hmm," he said. "Alright. But we'll be watching you, Miss Steele."
Erin thought about sticking out her tongue at the guard, but refrained. She just closed her eyes and smiled, and strutted through the impressive double door entrance.
The interior of Hammerson's house was even more impressive than its edifice, and Erin found herself in a great room with all of the trappings of grotesque wealth: A roaring fireplace covering half a wall. A brilliant chandelier twirling above her head. A main staircase that was ten feet wide and covered with immaculate red carpet. Round tables with tablecloths covered in all kinds of decadent delights: truffles, caviar, champagne. It was breathtaking, but not necessarily in a good way: even though the room was sprawling, able to accommodate at least a hundred people (Erin's quick estimate of how many formally dressed dignitaries stood around, laughing and munching on snacks, plus at least four guards), Erin felt oppressed.
She recognized a few faces, people she had seen on TV, people she had been forced to shake hands with at dumb political gatherings. They were scumbags, most of them-- why else would they be at a fundraiser for Brent Hammerson?-- and she hoped to avoid them if she could. She kept her face down and wandered over to the long table at the side of the room that was being used as a bar.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" the mustached man on the other side of the table said.
"Just a seltzer water, please," Erin said.
The man shrugged and promptly poured Erin a glass of sparkling fluid, passing it across the table.
"Thank you," she said. She went to pick it up and take a sip.
"Erin Steele!" a voice said.
She turned to her side. Standing at the bar was a middle-aged woman in a long-sleeved red dress, holding a wine glass and staring at Erin with bemused look. What was her name? Catherine... Lilac? Something like that. She was one of Hammerson's chief allies in the House, and therefore, not a friend of her father's.
"Oh hi!" Erin said, with false enthusiasm.
"Fancy seeing you here!" Catherine said. "It's been so, so long. You on a mission from your father?"
"I'm on a mission, alright," Erin thought.
"Umm, yeah," Erin said. "He just figured I should stop in and, you know, pay my respects."
Catherine laughed. "Now when has your father ever respected Mr. Hammerson?"
That was a good question. Erin tried to laugh it off. "It's, you know, just the right thing to do. Civility in politics, and all that."
It was a clumsy explanation, but everyone seemed to love it. Catherine raised her wine glass up and winked at Erin.
"I'll drink to that," she said, inhaling the remainder of her beverage.
"Cheers," Erin said, trying to walk away. Catherine moved to protest, but both women stopped when they heard a clinking sound.
"Alright everybody," a voice boomed from the center of the room. Erin traced it to a small man that she didn't recognize, one hand on a glass, the other on a microphone. "At this time, we have a dear friend of Mr. Hammerson's who'd like to say a few words. Mrs. Sunflower, the mic is yours."
Sunflower? Erin stepped from the bar and stood on her tip-toes. She could see the small man passing the microphone off to a woman with long bleached-blonde hair, glasses, and a tight black dress. She wasn't wearing leather, but Erin knew immediately who "Mrs. Sunflower" was, and gritted her teeth when the woman began to speak.
"Good evening," she said. "For those of you who don't know me, my name is Regina Sunflower, and I'm a long time family friend of the Hammerson family."
Erin couldn't believe this. Was she living in a dream? Was Sunny, the woman who so ruthlessly carried out so many of her boss's vile plans, who had nearly defeated the Blue Lynx on multiple occasions, actually standing up and giving a formal speech? And just being welcomed, at this gala, like she was any other upstanding member of the community?
"I guess no one here's particularly upstanding," Erin thought. "And most of them probably don't know what I do about 'Regina Sunflower.'"
"I'm so honored, so very glad, that everyone could be here tonight. Brent... means a lot to me. And he means a lot to this city. Since he's been..." Sunny paused, sniffing into the microphone for emphasis, "...Out... The city has seen even more costumed menaces on the streets. The vigilantes who Brent so ardently tried to crush have now... Taken over."
Erin almost scoffed out loud. She could hear mumbling through the crowd, people whispering the words "Blue Lynx" and "Spaniel" and "terrorists" and "freaks." They were eating from the palm of Sunny's perfectly manicured hand. All eyes were on her.
"This could be my chance to sneak away," Erin thought. But she had to admit that she was curious to see where Sunny was taking this. She set her glass down on the bar.
"Lawlessness is the rule in the city," Sunny continued. "The Mayor... The Mayor..."
A few loud boos resounded through the great room. Erin looked from side to side. Had anyone noticed she was there? It didn't seem like it.
Sunny held out her hand. "The Mayor is trying, but not hard enough. If we want to be rid of these "superheroes" for good, we need Brent back. We need Brent back, NOW!"
The room erupted into deafening applause. Erin clapped a slow, heartless rhythm along with the crowd. She couldn't believe anyone could be into this crap. The Blue Lynx was obviously on the city's side. Why did they hate her so much?
"So please, donate what you can tonight," Sunny announced. "We are currently working on an experimental technology that will have Brent back in action soon, very soon. In no time at all, he'll be back to skinning Blue Lynxes! And putting Spaniels back in the doghouse!"
The applause was even louder this time, mixed in with guffaws and the stomping of feet. Erin couldn't take it anymore. She ducked down and weaved her way through the people, whispering to herself that she was only "looking for a bathroom," eager to silence "Mrs. Sunflower's" ridiculous rant.
"Brent cares!" Sunny called out. "Which is why we are investing in the most far-reaching care..."
Erin quietly crept out of the great room and found herself in a hallway. It was a long, mostly dark space, with just a few fake candles along the walls. They obviously didn't want partygoers coming here, as the two guards standing on either side of the hallway only made clearer.
"You there," one of them said, stepping toward Erin. "What are you doing back here? Party's in the big room."
"Oh sorry, guy," Erin said, trying to slur her words. "Umm... I'm just looking for the bathroom."
"Bathroom's the other way," the guard on her right said. "You go back out, take a right, go straight, and you'll see it."
Erin spun around, doing a little drunken dance. "Wait... Which way?" She pointed at the guard, and then at the wall behind him, and then at the doors she had entered through. She noticed the second guard coming her way now. Good.
The first guard sighed. "Listen, lady. You need to leave."
"Oh, yeah, and why's that?" Erin said, rolling her eyes wildly. Both guards were within a few feet of her now.
The first guard nodded at the second guard. "Could you get her out of here?"
The second guard moved to grab her, and Erin struck. She stepped on the guard's toe and lifted a punch up through his chin. He stumbled back into the wall, and Erin pounced at the first guard, wrapping herself around his neck, forcing him into a chokehold. He tried reaching for his gun, and Erin kicked his hand away with her stiletto heel. It took ten seconds for him to begin to lose consciousness. As he fell to his knees, the second guard pushed off the wall, leaping at Erin. She corralled the guard by the neck and directed him at the opposite wall, which he met primarily with his face. He gradually slumped to the ground, joining his partner in a knocked out heap on the elaborately rug-strewn hallway floor.
Erin looked down at the guards, grinned, and pulled down the dress that had bunched up near the top of her thighs. She wasn't in the best fighting attire-- but she was pleased that she could still fight. She hadn't had such a seamless battle in what seemed like months.
"Way to go, Blue Lynx," she thought. "Now let's have a look around."
She proceeded down the hallway on quiet but determined steps, passing a few open doorways. One appeared to lead into a spectacularly furnished dining room, the other to a kind of generic (to Erin, pointless) sitting room. Neither seemed like places to stash sensitive documents. More promising was the third portal Erin arrived at, a closed, heavy-looking door with a metal keypad near the handle.
"Hello there," Erin whispered, attempting to pull the handle. It didn't budge, of course. Erin tapped around the door frame, looking for a weak way in, but found nothing. If she wanted to get into this room, she'd have to try and crack its code.
"Here goes nothing," she thought, typing in 2-5-8-3-5-9-6-9.
She was pleasantly surprised, but not terribly shocked, when the keypad's light flashed green. "All he can think about is the Blue Lynx," she thought, pushing down the handle and opening the heavy door.
Erin flicked on the light switch, and found herself in a simple, sparsely furnished office. There was a medium-sized black desk with a laptop, a few basic office chairs, a book shelf with a few volumes, a file cabinet, a wastebasket. The contrast with the rest of Hammerson's mansion was striking, and almost a little disturbing-- Erin felt like she had stepped into a completely different building. The only thing about it resembling what she had seen thus far tonight was the set of large, ornately decorated windows looking out on an expansive backyard. She quickly shut the door and moved to the windows, pulling red curtains across the glass.
"This must be where Hammerson works," she thought, turning around in the room, still try to make sense of its minimalism. "Or at least, where he does his 'work.'" Surely there would be something here she could use...
She went to the desk and flipped up the laptop. Surprisingly, the computer was still on. The screen asked for a username and password.
"Not sure if I'll get lucky twice," Erin thought. She decided to check out the file cabinet. She pulled at its top handle and found it was locked. She pulled at the next; it was locked as well. Every drawer in the cabinet ended up being tightly secured.
"Dammit," she thought, moving back to the desk. She tried its top drawer and found a pencil, a pistol, and a set of keys on a ring. Bingo.
Erin took the keys to the file cabinet and, after fumbling through four or five different options, found a way to open the top drawer. Inside the cabinet was a series of simple manila file folders, each one marked with a tab, each tab with a word or two written in black sharpie.
"Let's see," Erin thought, scanning the tabs. "We've got MY PEOPLE, PAYMENTS RECEIVED, PAYMENTS DUE, PROPERTIES, DRUGS: FORMULA, DRUGS: RATES, LAWSUITS..." She smiled. "These look promising."
Suddenly, the silence of the room was exploded by a knocking at the door. Erin froze, her fingernails deep in the folders, and turned her head. It was then that she saw, just above the door, a small camera.
"Shit."
The door flew open, and guards came pouring into the room. At first, Erin felt like she had a hope, and she dispensed with the first two men who came her way with ease, kicking them into separate corners with little regard for how her dress rode up on her legs. But as pairs of guards kept coming, filling up the spare room with their boots, their weapons, their bulk, her enthusiasm gradually subsided. They were getting closer, were soon on her, were then deflecting her attacks, grappling her, pinning her arms to her side. There were now ten of them, fifteen, twenty, and just when it hit her that she no longer stood a chance, the end of a gun slammed into her temple, rendering her unconscious.
On to Chapter Five
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Five
Chapter Five
June 16th, 11:50 PM
There were voices in the darkness.
"Well, who is she?"
"She's... familiar."
"I know. I've seen her before, somewhere."
"Right. She wasn't carrying any ID."
"She wasn't carrying much of anything. I mean... shit. Look at her."
"Yeah. God. Damn."
"I don't think she's wearing anything underneath, either."
"Ha. So you've looked, too?"
"Maybe once or twice."
"Ha. Ha. Hoo wee. She is... mmm... hot."
"What's a girl like this doing with her hand in Hammerson's files?"
"Ha. That's what the boss wants to find out."
"Oh, shit. Here she is."
Steps. A throat clearing. She felt the tap of a fingernail on her cheek. And a new voice.
"Wake up, sweetie. Wake up. Wake the fuck up."
Erin blinked her eyes. Staring her in the face was a woman with bleached blonde hair, red lipstick, and glasses. Regina Sunflower, a.k.a. Sunny, i.e. not the sort of person Erin typically enjoyed waking up to.
"Hi there," Sunny said, with an exaggerated wave. "Remember me? We've met before, you know."
Erin shook her head. Had they met? She had fought Sunny many times, but always as the Blue Lynx. Had Sunny figured out her identity? Erin began to panic. "Oh shit," she thought. "She knows too! How?"
Wait. No. Months ago, when Sunny had kidnapped Erin to use her as Blue Lynx bait... That's what she was talking about. Of course.
"Yeah," Erin mumbled, blearily. "I know you."
Her consciousness was returning to her in ebbs. She was in a dimly lit room, concrete floors and walls, spare and unadorned. Probably a basement. She sat in an uncomfortable chair. Sunny stood in front of her, her hands on the hips of her tight black dress, flanked by two guards, both packing heat, both admiring the tableau of these two beautiful women in skimpy clothing. Reflexively trying to adjust her skirt, Erin found that her hands were tied, behind her. She looked down and saw that her ankles had each been lashed to a chair leg, pulling her legs apart, pushing her dress dangerously close to her panty-less parts. She was as helpless and as exposed as she'd been the last time Sunny had had Erin Steele in her clutches, and Erin felt a powerful sense of deja vu.
Her head throbbed. What had happened? She had been at Hammerson's party, in his office, the guards had come in, surrounded her. Something hit her head. And now she was here.
"Crap," Erin thought. So much for the "mission."
"When the boys told me we had an intruder, I gotta say, you were the last person I expected, Erin Steele." Sunny paced around her with slow steps, her stiletto heels clicking on the concrete floor. "We've had break-ins before. But usually it's just dumb kids, amateur criminals, hoods. It's not every night we get the pleasure of the mayor's daughter's company."
She squatted down in front of Erin, placing her chest between her captive's spread knees.
"But this begs the question," Sunny said, her expression wilting. "Of what the fuck you're doing here."
Erin stared at Sunny. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't even considered the possibility that she might be captured, that Sunny would even be here. It was one thing to say "political civility" when she was having a cocktail, and another to say it after being caught snooping around Hammerson's office.
"Don't wanna talk?" Sunny said, standing up straight. "That's fine for now."
She gestured to one of the guards, who handed her a small black box with four wires coming from one side. Sunny held the box so that Erin could see it, her face once more a self-satisfied, hideous grin.
"But once we put these little guys on you," Sunny said, wiggling the four wires. "I think you might feel different."
She bent back down, cradling the box in one arm, and brought her fingers to the place where Erin's skirt ended, placing the end of one of the wires on the inside of Erin's thigh with a sticky pat.
"What are you doing?" Erin said, her eyes widening. She had begun to wiggle her arms and legs as much as the tight ropes would let her. It wasn't much, and Erin could only watch as Sunny placed a second wire opposite the first, seeming to relish the softness of Erin's skin just inches away from her privates.
"Oh, nothing," Sunny laughed. She got up, still holding the box, looking for a place to stick the third wire. Erin saw her gazing intently at her breasts, and shut her eyes when Sunny's hand dove into her dress, plunged beneath her bra, and stuck the end of a wire directly onto Erin's nipple.
"Augh!" Erin cried. "You're perverted! You're..." She searched for the right word while Sunny's hand groped her other breast, taking its time finding a place for the final wire. "Sick!" Erin yelled, as Sunny poked the fourth sticky pad onto the tip of Erin's jiggling breast.
The guards had broken out into laughter, and Sunny turned around to silence them. "Shut up," she said, calmly, and then turned back to face Erin, who was now connected in four sensitive places to the small black box.
"When my dad finds out what you're doing," Erin said, finding she didn't need to fake her words, "You're going to pay. You can't do this to people."
"Funny you should mention your dad," Sunny said, ignoring the rest of Erin's complaint. "That's my first question. Did your daddy send you here?"
Erin glared at her captor. Once again, she'd didn't know how to respond. If she told the truth, that her dad had nothing to do with this, then Sunny's mind would start wandering, and might even come across the idea that Erin was a vigilante. On the other hand, if she lied and said yes, then she could get her father in big trouble, and...
"You're not answering fast enough," Sunny said. "Maybe this will jog your memory."
She flicked a switch, and a bolt blasted through Erin's body, enclosing her chest and legs in a giant, painful pinch. She shook and screamed, girding herself for a few excruciating seconds before Sunny turned off the electricity. Erin closed her eyes and dropped her head, breathing heavily, her body suddenly loose and powerless.
"Let me ask you again, now," Sunny said with a sickening grin. "Did the mayor tell you to come here?"
"No," Erin coughed, weakly. Her nipples tingled and her legs felt like jelly. She couldn't think of an alibi, or of anything but the pain gripping her.
"Interesting," Sunny said. "So then. Did you come here on your own?"
"Yes," Erin said.
"And what was your purpose, this evening, hmm?"
Pain still surrounded Erin's ability to think. "I, uh," she whispered. "I wanted to know, for, umm, the election, about..."
"You're lying to me," Sunny said, flipping the switch again. Erin knew what was coming, but nothing could prepare her for it. The electricity ripped through her muscles, making her convulse in her seat, shocking her hair upright. Sunny watched her spasm for a few seconds and then turned off the heat. She giggled as Erin tried to get a hold of herself.
"Don't lie to me again," Sunny said. "Long exposure to this machine... It could kill you."
Erin didn't doubt it. She looked up at Sunny, attempting a menacing scowl. "How dare you. Imprisoning a young woman. Torturing her. This is a crime."
"Trespassing is a crime, babe," Sunny said. "I have a right to self-defense, don't I? If someone tries to break into Mr. Hammerson's house, what am I supposed to do? Just let the bitch go?"
Erin shook her head. "I could end you. I know who you are. You... Kidnapped me. Twice. You belong in jail."
"You know, you're pretty sassy," Sunny said. "Pretty fucking arrogant. I think we need to shock some of that arrogance out of you."
Erin brought her head back into an ear-piercing shriek as the electricity resumed its travels through her body. She shook so hard the straps of her dress and bra fell off her shoulders. Sunny patted her mouth in a mock yawn as she observed the scene, and then finally flipped the switch.
"Here's my theory," Sunny said, continuing her slow walk around her captive. "You think you're pretty hot shit, and you want to do your daddy proud. You're convinced that Mr. Hammerson's got something going on, some sort of horrible secret you could use against him. So you figured you'd just waltz in here and charm your way into Mr. Hammerson's office. But you're no secret agent, are you, Erin Steele? You're just a helpless little girl."
Erin hung her head. She didn't mind Sunny coming up with her own theory-- it took that burden off of Erin's electricity-addled brain. But being called a "helpless little girl"... That stung. It reminded her of the Spaniel, of how easily he had defeated her, of how all of her recent exploits had ended much like this current one: with her captured and tortured and completely at the mercy of a gloating evildoer.
"What I don't understand," Sunny went on, "Is how you successfully guessed Mr. Hammerson's password. How did you know..."
A clattering sound rang through the basement. Erin looked up. Sunny spun around. Behind her, the two guards were waving their guns into room's dark corners. "Who's there?" one of them shouted. "Show yourself!"
There was a cry of pain. One of the guards crumpled to his knee, and then fell over backward. The second guard pointed his gun only to have it kicked out of his hands. He too fell over, revealing a small, dark silhouette, the shape of a young woman. As the figure stepped into the light, her red hair shone brilliantly, popping with color atop her black and purple spandex outfit.
"You!" Sunny shouted. "I know you! You're the Black... Black... Bitch?"
"Bobcat," Margot said, shaking her head. "I'm the Black Bobcat."
On to Chapter Six
June 16th, 11:50 PM
There were voices in the darkness.
"Well, who is she?"
"She's... familiar."
"I know. I've seen her before, somewhere."
"Right. She wasn't carrying any ID."
"She wasn't carrying much of anything. I mean... shit. Look at her."
"Yeah. God. Damn."
"I don't think she's wearing anything underneath, either."
"Ha. So you've looked, too?"
"Maybe once or twice."
"Ha. Ha. Hoo wee. She is... mmm... hot."
"What's a girl like this doing with her hand in Hammerson's files?"
"Ha. That's what the boss wants to find out."
"Oh, shit. Here she is."
Steps. A throat clearing. She felt the tap of a fingernail on her cheek. And a new voice.
"Wake up, sweetie. Wake up. Wake the fuck up."
Erin blinked her eyes. Staring her in the face was a woman with bleached blonde hair, red lipstick, and glasses. Regina Sunflower, a.k.a. Sunny, i.e. not the sort of person Erin typically enjoyed waking up to.
"Hi there," Sunny said, with an exaggerated wave. "Remember me? We've met before, you know."
Erin shook her head. Had they met? She had fought Sunny many times, but always as the Blue Lynx. Had Sunny figured out her identity? Erin began to panic. "Oh shit," she thought. "She knows too! How?"
Wait. No. Months ago, when Sunny had kidnapped Erin to use her as Blue Lynx bait... That's what she was talking about. Of course.
"Yeah," Erin mumbled, blearily. "I know you."
Her consciousness was returning to her in ebbs. She was in a dimly lit room, concrete floors and walls, spare and unadorned. Probably a basement. She sat in an uncomfortable chair. Sunny stood in front of her, her hands on the hips of her tight black dress, flanked by two guards, both packing heat, both admiring the tableau of these two beautiful women in skimpy clothing. Reflexively trying to adjust her skirt, Erin found that her hands were tied, behind her. She looked down and saw that her ankles had each been lashed to a chair leg, pulling her legs apart, pushing her dress dangerously close to her panty-less parts. She was as helpless and as exposed as she'd been the last time Sunny had had Erin Steele in her clutches, and Erin felt a powerful sense of deja vu.
Her head throbbed. What had happened? She had been at Hammerson's party, in his office, the guards had come in, surrounded her. Something hit her head. And now she was here.
"Crap," Erin thought. So much for the "mission."
"When the boys told me we had an intruder, I gotta say, you were the last person I expected, Erin Steele." Sunny paced around her with slow steps, her stiletto heels clicking on the concrete floor. "We've had break-ins before. But usually it's just dumb kids, amateur criminals, hoods. It's not every night we get the pleasure of the mayor's daughter's company."
She squatted down in front of Erin, placing her chest between her captive's spread knees.
"But this begs the question," Sunny said, her expression wilting. "Of what the fuck you're doing here."
Erin stared at Sunny. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't even considered the possibility that she might be captured, that Sunny would even be here. It was one thing to say "political civility" when she was having a cocktail, and another to say it after being caught snooping around Hammerson's office.
"Don't wanna talk?" Sunny said, standing up straight. "That's fine for now."
She gestured to one of the guards, who handed her a small black box with four wires coming from one side. Sunny held the box so that Erin could see it, her face once more a self-satisfied, hideous grin.
"But once we put these little guys on you," Sunny said, wiggling the four wires. "I think you might feel different."
She bent back down, cradling the box in one arm, and brought her fingers to the place where Erin's skirt ended, placing the end of one of the wires on the inside of Erin's thigh with a sticky pat.
"What are you doing?" Erin said, her eyes widening. She had begun to wiggle her arms and legs as much as the tight ropes would let her. It wasn't much, and Erin could only watch as Sunny placed a second wire opposite the first, seeming to relish the softness of Erin's skin just inches away from her privates.
"Oh, nothing," Sunny laughed. She got up, still holding the box, looking for a place to stick the third wire. Erin saw her gazing intently at her breasts, and shut her eyes when Sunny's hand dove into her dress, plunged beneath her bra, and stuck the end of a wire directly onto Erin's nipple.
"Augh!" Erin cried. "You're perverted! You're..." She searched for the right word while Sunny's hand groped her other breast, taking its time finding a place for the final wire. "Sick!" Erin yelled, as Sunny poked the fourth sticky pad onto the tip of Erin's jiggling breast.
The guards had broken out into laughter, and Sunny turned around to silence them. "Shut up," she said, calmly, and then turned back to face Erin, who was now connected in four sensitive places to the small black box.
"When my dad finds out what you're doing," Erin said, finding she didn't need to fake her words, "You're going to pay. You can't do this to people."
"Funny you should mention your dad," Sunny said, ignoring the rest of Erin's complaint. "That's my first question. Did your daddy send you here?"
Erin glared at her captor. Once again, she'd didn't know how to respond. If she told the truth, that her dad had nothing to do with this, then Sunny's mind would start wandering, and might even come across the idea that Erin was a vigilante. On the other hand, if she lied and said yes, then she could get her father in big trouble, and...
"You're not answering fast enough," Sunny said. "Maybe this will jog your memory."
She flicked a switch, and a bolt blasted through Erin's body, enclosing her chest and legs in a giant, painful pinch. She shook and screamed, girding herself for a few excruciating seconds before Sunny turned off the electricity. Erin closed her eyes and dropped her head, breathing heavily, her body suddenly loose and powerless.
"Let me ask you again, now," Sunny said with a sickening grin. "Did the mayor tell you to come here?"
"No," Erin coughed, weakly. Her nipples tingled and her legs felt like jelly. She couldn't think of an alibi, or of anything but the pain gripping her.
"Interesting," Sunny said. "So then. Did you come here on your own?"
"Yes," Erin said.
"And what was your purpose, this evening, hmm?"
Pain still surrounded Erin's ability to think. "I, uh," she whispered. "I wanted to know, for, umm, the election, about..."
"You're lying to me," Sunny said, flipping the switch again. Erin knew what was coming, but nothing could prepare her for it. The electricity ripped through her muscles, making her convulse in her seat, shocking her hair upright. Sunny watched her spasm for a few seconds and then turned off the heat. She giggled as Erin tried to get a hold of herself.
"Don't lie to me again," Sunny said. "Long exposure to this machine... It could kill you."
Erin didn't doubt it. She looked up at Sunny, attempting a menacing scowl. "How dare you. Imprisoning a young woman. Torturing her. This is a crime."
"Trespassing is a crime, babe," Sunny said. "I have a right to self-defense, don't I? If someone tries to break into Mr. Hammerson's house, what am I supposed to do? Just let the bitch go?"
Erin shook her head. "I could end you. I know who you are. You... Kidnapped me. Twice. You belong in jail."
"You know, you're pretty sassy," Sunny said. "Pretty fucking arrogant. I think we need to shock some of that arrogance out of you."
Erin brought her head back into an ear-piercing shriek as the electricity resumed its travels through her body. She shook so hard the straps of her dress and bra fell off her shoulders. Sunny patted her mouth in a mock yawn as she observed the scene, and then finally flipped the switch.
"Here's my theory," Sunny said, continuing her slow walk around her captive. "You think you're pretty hot shit, and you want to do your daddy proud. You're convinced that Mr. Hammerson's got something going on, some sort of horrible secret you could use against him. So you figured you'd just waltz in here and charm your way into Mr. Hammerson's office. But you're no secret agent, are you, Erin Steele? You're just a helpless little girl."
Erin hung her head. She didn't mind Sunny coming up with her own theory-- it took that burden off of Erin's electricity-addled brain. But being called a "helpless little girl"... That stung. It reminded her of the Spaniel, of how easily he had defeated her, of how all of her recent exploits had ended much like this current one: with her captured and tortured and completely at the mercy of a gloating evildoer.
"What I don't understand," Sunny went on, "Is how you successfully guessed Mr. Hammerson's password. How did you know..."
A clattering sound rang through the basement. Erin looked up. Sunny spun around. Behind her, the two guards were waving their guns into room's dark corners. "Who's there?" one of them shouted. "Show yourself!"
There was a cry of pain. One of the guards crumpled to his knee, and then fell over backward. The second guard pointed his gun only to have it kicked out of his hands. He too fell over, revealing a small, dark silhouette, the shape of a young woman. As the figure stepped into the light, her red hair shone brilliantly, popping with color atop her black and purple spandex outfit.
"You!" Sunny shouted. "I know you! You're the Black... Black... Bitch?"
"Bobcat," Margot said, shaking her head. "I'm the Black Bobcat."
On to Chapter Six
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Six
Chapter Six
June 17th, 12:04 AM
Margot stared into Sunny's eyes, her hands on her hips, her heart racing from the quick skirmish with the guards. This was hardly the first time the two women had faced off, and though the young heroine pulsed with nervous energy, she wasn't afraid. Still, there was a crucial difference between this time and the encounters before: usually, the Black Bobcat could count on the Blue Lynx to do some-- okay, most-- of the fighting. Tonight, with Erin out of commission, Margot had to do it all by herself. As she looked at her bound friend, a true picture of helplessness in her black dress, with mysterious cords attached to her breasts and inner thighs, she could feel her teeth grinding.
"What are you doing to her?" Margot said.
Sunny flicked her head back at Erin. "Who, this bitch?" She again locked eyes with Margot. "She's been snooping around. Trespassing. On private property. And I'm trying to find out why."
Erin's outfit had been too skimpy for a tracker, but sitting in the car, Margot hadn't been worried about her friend. Tonight didn't seem like a "real" superheroine outing, what with Erin in civilian clothes, and the Blue Lynx having been "on sabbatical" for so long. She didn't expect Erin to get into trouble: after all, it was just a party, right? But the hours had flown by. It was 8, 9, 10... The partygoers had started to leave. At 11, Margot stepped into her costume. By 11:30, she was inside the house, sneaking down the hallways. She would've never known where Erin was if she hadn't heard a scream piercing through the hardwood floor.
"She's torturing me, Black Bobcat," Erin cried. "Zapping me with that... machine."
Margot couldn't tell if the extra bit of pitifulness in her friend's voice was an act. But either way, she was clearly in pain, had obviously been beaten. Margot had to defeat Sunny and get Erin free. Now.
"So, this is how you treat guests?" Margot said. "Well then, considered this party crashed." It wasn't a great one-liner-- she was still working on those. But it would do.
Sunny smiled. "It's weird to see you alone, Black Bitch. Where's your big sister? I haven't seen her in the news lately." Her smile widened. "Has that new guy, the Spaniel, scared her off?"
Margot could almost feel Erin's frustration from across the room. "The Blue Lynx is fine," she said. "She's taking the night off. Wants me to go out on, uh, some solo missions."
Sunny squinted her eyes. "And you decided to just come here tonight, hmm? You just happened to be in the area, wanted to see what Mr. Hammerson was up to? Here, I'll give you an update: he's still in a FUCKING COMA. Because of you and your bitch of a partner."
Margot knew she should just end this. She didn't have to keep talking to Sunny-- she could easily run up, knock her over, and cut Erin loose. But being here, now, on her own, facing down an evildoer, and with Erin watching... It was kind of thrilling. She had never gotten the chance to engage with a villain in such a classic way. She wanted to relish it, at least for another minute or two. All that training to replace Erin: what was the point of it if she couldn't enjoy a moment like this?
"Well, technically, it was Steve who did the coma thing," Margot said, a slight giggle entering her voice. "I'm not sorry, at any rate. Brent Hammerson is a monster. He got what he deserved."
"No!" Sunny growled. "Brent is a hero. It is you, you and the Blue Lynx, who are the true enemies of society. Running around at night, twitching your pert little asses, acting all sassy and tough... Why, you're no better than this spoiled brat!" She gestured wildly at Erin. "Just a couple of arrogant bitches with a totally phony idea of the world. You have no clue. No fucking clue at all."
"I don't know, Sunny," Margot said. "I've seen the drug houses. The thugs. It all seems pretty real, to me. It's hard to deny that Hammerson is scum."
She was really enjoying this-- no wonder Erin couldn't get enough of it.
Sunny's face was turning red. "You... you... You're just as annoying as the Blue Lynx. I can't wait till I get a chance to beat that smug smile off your face."
Margot crossed her arms and grinned. "I'd like to see you try. See, while the Blue Lynx has been taking a break, I've been working out. Training hard. I'm just as tough as she is, now. I've seen her cream you dozens of times. Tonight, it looks like it's my turn--"
"BLACK BOBCAT!" Erin screamed. "BEHIND YOU!"
Before Margot could react, the fist ran into her skull. Instantly, there was pain, and disorientation, and splotches of black. She sensed herself coming to the ground. She wasn't unconscious, but she could hardly move. She couldn't speak, and could barely see. She felt fingers digging into her biceps, pulling her up to her feet. She watched as her purple boots dragged on the ground in front of her, the heels bouncing around on the cement floor. She heard Sunny's laughter, and the chuckles of the thugs, and felt her body being pushed roughly into a chair. Her head lolled on its shoulders as her arms were pulled behind her, her legs spread apart. There was a sudden burning sensation in her wrists, a cutting feeling. Rope. They were tying her up. She was being bound to a chair, next to Erin, and she couldn't fight back, couldn't protest, could only watch through hazy, wandering eyes as the two thugs, back from the dead, completed their work, stepped away from her, watched her with bright, satisfied expressions.
"Ugh," she mumbled. "Arghh..."
The stream of sound that was Sunny's voice began to break apart into separate words, phrases.
"So tough... Talk, talk, talk... Blue Lynx... I could see them... BAM... Distracting you the whole time... And now you're mine... All mine... Black Bobcat..."
And Margot felt the thumping pain in her head accelerated to the boisterous sound of Sunny's cackling laughter.
On to Chapter Seven
June 17th, 12:04 AM
Margot stared into Sunny's eyes, her hands on her hips, her heart racing from the quick skirmish with the guards. This was hardly the first time the two women had faced off, and though the young heroine pulsed with nervous energy, she wasn't afraid. Still, there was a crucial difference between this time and the encounters before: usually, the Black Bobcat could count on the Blue Lynx to do some-- okay, most-- of the fighting. Tonight, with Erin out of commission, Margot had to do it all by herself. As she looked at her bound friend, a true picture of helplessness in her black dress, with mysterious cords attached to her breasts and inner thighs, she could feel her teeth grinding.
"What are you doing to her?" Margot said.
Sunny flicked her head back at Erin. "Who, this bitch?" She again locked eyes with Margot. "She's been snooping around. Trespassing. On private property. And I'm trying to find out why."
Erin's outfit had been too skimpy for a tracker, but sitting in the car, Margot hadn't been worried about her friend. Tonight didn't seem like a "real" superheroine outing, what with Erin in civilian clothes, and the Blue Lynx having been "on sabbatical" for so long. She didn't expect Erin to get into trouble: after all, it was just a party, right? But the hours had flown by. It was 8, 9, 10... The partygoers had started to leave. At 11, Margot stepped into her costume. By 11:30, she was inside the house, sneaking down the hallways. She would've never known where Erin was if she hadn't heard a scream piercing through the hardwood floor.
"She's torturing me, Black Bobcat," Erin cried. "Zapping me with that... machine."
Margot couldn't tell if the extra bit of pitifulness in her friend's voice was an act. But either way, she was clearly in pain, had obviously been beaten. Margot had to defeat Sunny and get Erin free. Now.
"So, this is how you treat guests?" Margot said. "Well then, considered this party crashed." It wasn't a great one-liner-- she was still working on those. But it would do.
Sunny smiled. "It's weird to see you alone, Black Bitch. Where's your big sister? I haven't seen her in the news lately." Her smile widened. "Has that new guy, the Spaniel, scared her off?"
Margot could almost feel Erin's frustration from across the room. "The Blue Lynx is fine," she said. "She's taking the night off. Wants me to go out on, uh, some solo missions."
Sunny squinted her eyes. "And you decided to just come here tonight, hmm? You just happened to be in the area, wanted to see what Mr. Hammerson was up to? Here, I'll give you an update: he's still in a FUCKING COMA. Because of you and your bitch of a partner."
Margot knew she should just end this. She didn't have to keep talking to Sunny-- she could easily run up, knock her over, and cut Erin loose. But being here, now, on her own, facing down an evildoer, and with Erin watching... It was kind of thrilling. She had never gotten the chance to engage with a villain in such a classic way. She wanted to relish it, at least for another minute or two. All that training to replace Erin: what was the point of it if she couldn't enjoy a moment like this?
"Well, technically, it was Steve who did the coma thing," Margot said, a slight giggle entering her voice. "I'm not sorry, at any rate. Brent Hammerson is a monster. He got what he deserved."
"No!" Sunny growled. "Brent is a hero. It is you, you and the Blue Lynx, who are the true enemies of society. Running around at night, twitching your pert little asses, acting all sassy and tough... Why, you're no better than this spoiled brat!" She gestured wildly at Erin. "Just a couple of arrogant bitches with a totally phony idea of the world. You have no clue. No fucking clue at all."
"I don't know, Sunny," Margot said. "I've seen the drug houses. The thugs. It all seems pretty real, to me. It's hard to deny that Hammerson is scum."
She was really enjoying this-- no wonder Erin couldn't get enough of it.
Sunny's face was turning red. "You... you... You're just as annoying as the Blue Lynx. I can't wait till I get a chance to beat that smug smile off your face."
Margot crossed her arms and grinned. "I'd like to see you try. See, while the Blue Lynx has been taking a break, I've been working out. Training hard. I'm just as tough as she is, now. I've seen her cream you dozens of times. Tonight, it looks like it's my turn--"
"BLACK BOBCAT!" Erin screamed. "BEHIND YOU!"
Before Margot could react, the fist ran into her skull. Instantly, there was pain, and disorientation, and splotches of black. She sensed herself coming to the ground. She wasn't unconscious, but she could hardly move. She couldn't speak, and could barely see. She felt fingers digging into her biceps, pulling her up to her feet. She watched as her purple boots dragged on the ground in front of her, the heels bouncing around on the cement floor. She heard Sunny's laughter, and the chuckles of the thugs, and felt her body being pushed roughly into a chair. Her head lolled on its shoulders as her arms were pulled behind her, her legs spread apart. There was a sudden burning sensation in her wrists, a cutting feeling. Rope. They were tying her up. She was being bound to a chair, next to Erin, and she couldn't fight back, couldn't protest, could only watch through hazy, wandering eyes as the two thugs, back from the dead, completed their work, stepped away from her, watched her with bright, satisfied expressions.
"Ugh," she mumbled. "Arghh..."
The stream of sound that was Sunny's voice began to break apart into separate words, phrases.
"So tough... Talk, talk, talk... Blue Lynx... I could see them... BAM... Distracting you the whole time... And now you're mine... All mine... Black Bobcat..."
And Margot felt the thumping pain in her head accelerated to the boisterous sound of Sunny's cackling laughter.
On to Chapter Seven
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
June 17th, 12:10 AM
"It's just so goddamn pathetic, really," Sunny said. She had been going on and on, just loving every second of this, increasing Erin's fury with every horrible and humiliating sentence. "The hotshot sidekick, coming in here, all high and mighty. And then, when she's right in the middle of rubbing it in, BOOM, she's surprised by the very thugs she thought she had knocked out. Oh man. It's just too great. Don't you think so, Erin Steele?"
Erin shook her head, avoiding eye contact with Sunny. Everything seemed hopeless now. She had a moment of ecstasy when she first saw Margot, was so proud to see the Black Bobcat take down those thugs without breaking a sweat. But then, Margot had gotten cocky, had clearly become too impressed with herself, and had let her guard down. Erin could correctly assess the scene because she had been in Margot's place many times before. She knew the feeling of lording over an opponent, how seductive it was... But also how dangerous it could be. Erin had been having a lot of fun with the Spaniel, too, right before she had been knocked out, unmasked, and put on the miserable path to her current predicament.
In other words, karma was a bitch.
And so, too, was Sunny.
"Don't feeling like talking, ERR-in? I don't blame you," the villainness continued. "You probably thought the Black Bitch here was gonna rescue you. A Hollywood ending for the damsel in distress. But this isn't a movie, is it, Miss Steele? Besides, you never send the sidekick in to do the true superheroine work."
Erin could contain herself. "You got lucky," she said. "If it wasn't for your thugs, the Black Bobcat would have..."
"Come on, really?" Sunny interrupted. "You're saying I got lucky because your savior was too stupid to see a couple of guards coming from behind? This barely has anything to DO with me, babe."
Margot was still silent except for occasional groans. The punch to her head had been, in a word, hard. Erin was surprised she hadn't been knocked out. She wouldn't be getting free anytime soon: they had trussed her up with even more rope than they'd used for Erin, and Erin had made absolutely no progress on dealing with her own knots.
"Now, where were we? Weren't we discussing something?" Sunny asked. She placed her hand on her chin. "Boys," she said, turning to the guards, both back on their feet, like the incident with the Black Bobcat had never happened. "What were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?"
One of the thugs scratched his head. "I don't remember."
The other snapped his fingers. "I do! The boss. The password. All that stuff."
"Oh yes, of course," Sunny said, again facing Erin. "I was wondering how you'd know that password. The password, which is, of course, BLUE LYNX."
Erin gulped. She didn't want to go down this road. She knew she had already compromised her identity in several ways, tonight. If Sunny pushed in the right places, she might strike gold.
"Wild guess," Erin said, as coolly as possible. "Everyone knows that Hammerson is obsessed with the Blue Lynx. It's all he ever talks about, on TV."
Sunny tapped her toe. "That's true. But you guessed that password without hesitation, first try. An incorrect password immediately sets off an alarm. How were you so goddamn sure about it?"
"Well," Erin said, feeling a bead of sweat forming on her forehead, "I didn't, um, know that I only had one try. And I just went with the first thing I thought of."
"And the first thing you thought of," Sunny said, taking a dramatic pause, like a television prosecutor, "was the Blue Lynx."
Erin blinked. She'd made a mistake. She needed to just shut up. No. She needed to say something, now, and then shut up.
"I, uh, well," Erin mumbled. "Listen, I just... It just made sense. Hammerson's rival is the Blue Lynx, and..."
Sunny licked her lips. "You don't have a special, oh, personal connection with the Blue Lynx, do you, Miss Steele?"
"Like, no!" Erin said, louder than she wanted to. "Of course not!"
"You're not friends with her, are you?"
"No! I've... never met her. I've just seen her on TV."
"Is that so? Because I seem to remember a story where you claimed she rescued you. Remember?" Sunny said, stepping closer to Erin. "When we kidnapped you, the first time?"
"Oh, uh, yeah!" Erin said. "There was that one time."
"That one time that you just conveniently forgot about, just now?"
"No, it's not like that."
"Well, then, Erin Steele," Sunny said, placing her hand on Erin's head, stroking her thick, black hair. "Tell me what it's like."
"It's just," Erin muttered, trying to string together something, anything, even a little bit persuasive, "I didn't count that as 'meeting' her, because we didn't talk, or anything. She just came in, and..."
Sunny wasn't listening. She continued weaving her fingers in and out of Erin's dark, flowing locks. She chuckled to herself. "You have such beautiful hair," she said.
Erin paused. What was she talking about?
Sunny lifted a strand of Erin's hair in the air, watching it glimmer in the faint basement light. "I love this hair. Everything about it. The texture. The luster. Truly gorgeous. Truly... unforgettable."
"What... what are you doing?" Erin asked, meekly.
"Let's go through this, piece by piece. Let's comb out the details, hmm?" Sunny said, dropping the hair back on Erin's head. "Erin Steele. The mayor's daughter. Beautiful. Smart. Athletic." She poked Erin in the bicep. "Surprisingly... muscular. And with a surprisingly high tolerance for pain."
Erin shuddered.
"Mayor Steele has a vendetta against Brent Hammerson. So what does he do? He sends his daughter in to do reconnaissance, right?"
Again, a dramatic pause. Erin held her breath.
"Wrong," Sunny continued. "Totally wrong. Why would the Mayor ever do that? Politically speaking, it would be disastrous. And putting poor little Erin in danger? Asking her to commit multiple crimes? Not even Mayor Steele, dirty as he is, would think to do that."
Sunny was pacing around Erin now, occasionally smacking one hand into the other, outlining a case, the guards watching with increasing interest.
"No, you did this, Erin Steele. You did this because you've got something against Brent. And that something isn't just political. It's personal. You snuck in here-- you went into his office, and through his files-- because, to you, Brent is more than a rival to your dad-- he is, in your mind, a threat to the city."
"Stop this, Sunny!" Erin cried. "You're just rambling! You're not making any sense!"
Sunny waved Erin off, still moving in a circle. "You sneak in here, and you guess Brent's password on the first try. You fend off a gaggle of guards, and you hold your own. After they finally capture you, a superheroine comes to your rescue. But not the Blue Lynx... Her partner, the Black Bobcat. A young woman you have a lot of concern for, apparently."
Erin felt her head throbbing, her stomach jumping, her palms sweating. She felt like she was about to throw up.
"The Black Bobcat was just in the area, apparently. And you, you were just goofing around, apparently. There's a whole lot of strange coincidences here..."
Sunny returned to Erin's hair. She sunk her hand through the dense black thicket, smiled, and brought her fingers down on her captive's skull, gripping it hard.
"I know this hair," Sunny said, kneading Erin's temples with long, sharp fingernails. "THIS is the Blue Lynx's hair. YOU, Erin Steele, are the Blue Lynx!"
On to Chapter Eight
June 17th, 12:10 AM
"It's just so goddamn pathetic, really," Sunny said. She had been going on and on, just loving every second of this, increasing Erin's fury with every horrible and humiliating sentence. "The hotshot sidekick, coming in here, all high and mighty. And then, when she's right in the middle of rubbing it in, BOOM, she's surprised by the very thugs she thought she had knocked out. Oh man. It's just too great. Don't you think so, Erin Steele?"
Erin shook her head, avoiding eye contact with Sunny. Everything seemed hopeless now. She had a moment of ecstasy when she first saw Margot, was so proud to see the Black Bobcat take down those thugs without breaking a sweat. But then, Margot had gotten cocky, had clearly become too impressed with herself, and had let her guard down. Erin could correctly assess the scene because she had been in Margot's place many times before. She knew the feeling of lording over an opponent, how seductive it was... But also how dangerous it could be. Erin had been having a lot of fun with the Spaniel, too, right before she had been knocked out, unmasked, and put on the miserable path to her current predicament.
In other words, karma was a bitch.
And so, too, was Sunny.
"Don't feeling like talking, ERR-in? I don't blame you," the villainness continued. "You probably thought the Black Bitch here was gonna rescue you. A Hollywood ending for the damsel in distress. But this isn't a movie, is it, Miss Steele? Besides, you never send the sidekick in to do the true superheroine work."
Erin could contain herself. "You got lucky," she said. "If it wasn't for your thugs, the Black Bobcat would have..."
"Come on, really?" Sunny interrupted. "You're saying I got lucky because your savior was too stupid to see a couple of guards coming from behind? This barely has anything to DO with me, babe."
Margot was still silent except for occasional groans. The punch to her head had been, in a word, hard. Erin was surprised she hadn't been knocked out. She wouldn't be getting free anytime soon: they had trussed her up with even more rope than they'd used for Erin, and Erin had made absolutely no progress on dealing with her own knots.
"Now, where were we? Weren't we discussing something?" Sunny asked. She placed her hand on her chin. "Boys," she said, turning to the guards, both back on their feet, like the incident with the Black Bobcat had never happened. "What were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?"
One of the thugs scratched his head. "I don't remember."
The other snapped his fingers. "I do! The boss. The password. All that stuff."
"Oh yes, of course," Sunny said, again facing Erin. "I was wondering how you'd know that password. The password, which is, of course, BLUE LYNX."
Erin gulped. She didn't want to go down this road. She knew she had already compromised her identity in several ways, tonight. If Sunny pushed in the right places, she might strike gold.
"Wild guess," Erin said, as coolly as possible. "Everyone knows that Hammerson is obsessed with the Blue Lynx. It's all he ever talks about, on TV."
Sunny tapped her toe. "That's true. But you guessed that password without hesitation, first try. An incorrect password immediately sets off an alarm. How were you so goddamn sure about it?"
"Well," Erin said, feeling a bead of sweat forming on her forehead, "I didn't, um, know that I only had one try. And I just went with the first thing I thought of."
"And the first thing you thought of," Sunny said, taking a dramatic pause, like a television prosecutor, "was the Blue Lynx."
Erin blinked. She'd made a mistake. She needed to just shut up. No. She needed to say something, now, and then shut up.
"I, uh, well," Erin mumbled. "Listen, I just... It just made sense. Hammerson's rival is the Blue Lynx, and..."
Sunny licked her lips. "You don't have a special, oh, personal connection with the Blue Lynx, do you, Miss Steele?"
"Like, no!" Erin said, louder than she wanted to. "Of course not!"
"You're not friends with her, are you?"
"No! I've... never met her. I've just seen her on TV."
"Is that so? Because I seem to remember a story where you claimed she rescued you. Remember?" Sunny said, stepping closer to Erin. "When we kidnapped you, the first time?"
"Oh, uh, yeah!" Erin said. "There was that one time."
"That one time that you just conveniently forgot about, just now?"
"No, it's not like that."
"Well, then, Erin Steele," Sunny said, placing her hand on Erin's head, stroking her thick, black hair. "Tell me what it's like."
"It's just," Erin muttered, trying to string together something, anything, even a little bit persuasive, "I didn't count that as 'meeting' her, because we didn't talk, or anything. She just came in, and..."
Sunny wasn't listening. She continued weaving her fingers in and out of Erin's dark, flowing locks. She chuckled to herself. "You have such beautiful hair," she said.
Erin paused. What was she talking about?
Sunny lifted a strand of Erin's hair in the air, watching it glimmer in the faint basement light. "I love this hair. Everything about it. The texture. The luster. Truly gorgeous. Truly... unforgettable."
"What... what are you doing?" Erin asked, meekly.
"Let's go through this, piece by piece. Let's comb out the details, hmm?" Sunny said, dropping the hair back on Erin's head. "Erin Steele. The mayor's daughter. Beautiful. Smart. Athletic." She poked Erin in the bicep. "Surprisingly... muscular. And with a surprisingly high tolerance for pain."
Erin shuddered.
"Mayor Steele has a vendetta against Brent Hammerson. So what does he do? He sends his daughter in to do reconnaissance, right?"
Again, a dramatic pause. Erin held her breath.
"Wrong," Sunny continued. "Totally wrong. Why would the Mayor ever do that? Politically speaking, it would be disastrous. And putting poor little Erin in danger? Asking her to commit multiple crimes? Not even Mayor Steele, dirty as he is, would think to do that."
Sunny was pacing around Erin now, occasionally smacking one hand into the other, outlining a case, the guards watching with increasing interest.
"No, you did this, Erin Steele. You did this because you've got something against Brent. And that something isn't just political. It's personal. You snuck in here-- you went into his office, and through his files-- because, to you, Brent is more than a rival to your dad-- he is, in your mind, a threat to the city."
"Stop this, Sunny!" Erin cried. "You're just rambling! You're not making any sense!"
Sunny waved Erin off, still moving in a circle. "You sneak in here, and you guess Brent's password on the first try. You fend off a gaggle of guards, and you hold your own. After they finally capture you, a superheroine comes to your rescue. But not the Blue Lynx... Her partner, the Black Bobcat. A young woman you have a lot of concern for, apparently."
Erin felt her head throbbing, her stomach jumping, her palms sweating. She felt like she was about to throw up.
"The Black Bobcat was just in the area, apparently. And you, you were just goofing around, apparently. There's a whole lot of strange coincidences here..."
Sunny returned to Erin's hair. She sunk her hand through the dense black thicket, smiled, and brought her fingers down on her captive's skull, gripping it hard.
"I know this hair," Sunny said, kneading Erin's temples with long, sharp fingernails. "THIS is the Blue Lynx's hair. YOU, Erin Steele, are the Blue Lynx!"
On to Chapter Eight
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
June 17th, 12:20 AM
"No!" Erin cried. "No, that's not true!"
Sunny giggled. "Oh, but I think it is, Miss Steele. Tell me: have you two ever been in the same place at once?"
Erin grimaced. It wouldn't have been terribly difficult to solve this question if she hadn't been so paralyzed with dread.
"I'll bet there's a mysterious overlap between times when Erin Steele leaves the house at night and times when the Blue Lynx comes out to play," Sunny said. "I guess that means you're ALWAYS in the same place at once, though, ha ha ha."
"Sunny," Erin said, through choked breaths. "You have no idea what you're talking about." She had to slow down. Control her pulse. Let Sunny know that she was in control.
Sunny finally removed her hand from Erin's hair. She stepped back, gazed at her captive, and smiled broadly.
"I'm almost kind of curious what sort of bullshit alibi you have cooked up. I'm sure you've come up with a lot over the years. But you're not convincing me of anything, Erin Steele. I know who you really are."
The battle between Eric's panicking interior and her attempted cool, collected exterior was reaching a furious climax. Nevertheless, she spoke.
"This theory of yours is insane, Sunny. Look at me. Tied up like this. I'm no crimefighter. The Blue Lynx would've been able to break through these ropes in seconds."
Sunny shook her head. "I doubt it. I think she's exactly as weak as you, Erin Steele. But please continue."
Erin tried to block out the comment. "I mean, have you seen the Blue Lynx in action? With all those gadgets? Where would I get all those gadgets from, huh?"
"You have a supplier, that's all," Sunny replied. "A weapons expert."
"A weapons expert? Really? I'm twenty-three years old! I just graduated from college a year ago. I don't even have a proper mechanic, never mind a 'weapons expert.' The Blue Lynx is someone with connections."
"You're telling me you're not connected?" Sunny asked. "You're Mayor Steele's daughter. Anything you want, Daddy will get it for you."
"And that's another thing," Erin said, trying to change the subject; she didn't like where this line of thinking was going, "You keep saying stuff about my dad, about me helping him out. But honestly, I could care less about politics. It bores me. My dad's little rivalry with Brent Hammerson? I really don't give a shit."
Sunny glared at her. "Then why are you here? At Brent Hammerson's house?"
"For fun," Erin said. "It was something dumb to do. Crash a rich guy's party. Break into his secret files."
"All for fun, eh?" Sunny said. "Well then, how do you explain Miss Bobcat here?" She pointed at Margot, whose head was still rolling on its shoulders, in and out of consciousness.
"That's easy," Erin said. It was time to take a gamble. "That's not the real Black Bobcat. That's my roommate, Margot."
"What?"
"Go ahead, take off her mask and see. She's a cosplayer. The Black Bobcat is one of the characters she dresses up as. She was here at the party, too. And she must have stumbled down here when she couldn't find me."
"Stumbled down here... in costume?"
"You'll have to ask her," Erin said, picking up steam. "She's kind of weird. But she's no superheroine. Being surprised like that? Not something that would happen to the real Black Bobcat."
"And yet, she took out both of my guards."
"Well, she does do a karate. She's a red belt, I think."
Sunny had been shaking her head on and off for the past several minutes. "This is pretty entertaining, Miss Steele, but you still haven't persuaded me one inch. The little story you've concocted is threadbare. I won't even try to poke holes into it, because it's barely worth my time."
"Your story doesn't need me to poke holes in it," Erin declared. "It's all based on stupid little coincidences that don't mean anything. You're basically saying that I'm the Blue Lynx because we both have black hair. You don't have any proof."
"Proof?" Sunny said. "Proof?" She squatted down in front of Erin, once again placing her face between her prisoner's bare, spread knees. "How about this for proof? I keep you here, in my basement, for the next couple of weeks. No, months. And we'll see, in that time, if the Blue Lynx ever once makes an appearance in the city."
Erin squirmed. "You're not keeping me here for months, Sunny."
Sunny grinned evilly. "Oh, but I will, Erin Steele. If it means the end of the Blue Lynx, I'll do whatever it takes..."
She glanced at the metal box, still attached by four wires to Erin's legs and breasts.
"Maybe we should force a confession out of you with our little friend, here..."
"Maybe you should let her go."
It was a new voice. Low, authoritative, male... familiar. It came from behind the guards. Sunny spun around to face it.
"Who the hell are you?" she cried.
Erin didn't need to hear his answer. She had seen the man before. She dreamed about his hard body, his chiseled face, and his shimmering, golden costume every other night. She dreamed-- and she had nightmares.
The man cleared his throat and said. "I'm the Spaniel."
On to Chapter Nine
June 17th, 12:20 AM
"No!" Erin cried. "No, that's not true!"
Sunny giggled. "Oh, but I think it is, Miss Steele. Tell me: have you two ever been in the same place at once?"
Erin grimaced. It wouldn't have been terribly difficult to solve this question if she hadn't been so paralyzed with dread.
"I'll bet there's a mysterious overlap between times when Erin Steele leaves the house at night and times when the Blue Lynx comes out to play," Sunny said. "I guess that means you're ALWAYS in the same place at once, though, ha ha ha."
"Sunny," Erin said, through choked breaths. "You have no idea what you're talking about." She had to slow down. Control her pulse. Let Sunny know that she was in control.
Sunny finally removed her hand from Erin's hair. She stepped back, gazed at her captive, and smiled broadly.
"I'm almost kind of curious what sort of bullshit alibi you have cooked up. I'm sure you've come up with a lot over the years. But you're not convincing me of anything, Erin Steele. I know who you really are."
The battle between Eric's panicking interior and her attempted cool, collected exterior was reaching a furious climax. Nevertheless, she spoke.
"This theory of yours is insane, Sunny. Look at me. Tied up like this. I'm no crimefighter. The Blue Lynx would've been able to break through these ropes in seconds."
Sunny shook her head. "I doubt it. I think she's exactly as weak as you, Erin Steele. But please continue."
Erin tried to block out the comment. "I mean, have you seen the Blue Lynx in action? With all those gadgets? Where would I get all those gadgets from, huh?"
"You have a supplier, that's all," Sunny replied. "A weapons expert."
"A weapons expert? Really? I'm twenty-three years old! I just graduated from college a year ago. I don't even have a proper mechanic, never mind a 'weapons expert.' The Blue Lynx is someone with connections."
"You're telling me you're not connected?" Sunny asked. "You're Mayor Steele's daughter. Anything you want, Daddy will get it for you."
"And that's another thing," Erin said, trying to change the subject; she didn't like where this line of thinking was going, "You keep saying stuff about my dad, about me helping him out. But honestly, I could care less about politics. It bores me. My dad's little rivalry with Brent Hammerson? I really don't give a shit."
Sunny glared at her. "Then why are you here? At Brent Hammerson's house?"
"For fun," Erin said. "It was something dumb to do. Crash a rich guy's party. Break into his secret files."
"All for fun, eh?" Sunny said. "Well then, how do you explain Miss Bobcat here?" She pointed at Margot, whose head was still rolling on its shoulders, in and out of consciousness.
"That's easy," Erin said. It was time to take a gamble. "That's not the real Black Bobcat. That's my roommate, Margot."
"What?"
"Go ahead, take off her mask and see. She's a cosplayer. The Black Bobcat is one of the characters she dresses up as. She was here at the party, too. And she must have stumbled down here when she couldn't find me."
"Stumbled down here... in costume?"
"You'll have to ask her," Erin said, picking up steam. "She's kind of weird. But she's no superheroine. Being surprised like that? Not something that would happen to the real Black Bobcat."
"And yet, she took out both of my guards."
"Well, she does do a karate. She's a red belt, I think."
Sunny had been shaking her head on and off for the past several minutes. "This is pretty entertaining, Miss Steele, but you still haven't persuaded me one inch. The little story you've concocted is threadbare. I won't even try to poke holes into it, because it's barely worth my time."
"Your story doesn't need me to poke holes in it," Erin declared. "It's all based on stupid little coincidences that don't mean anything. You're basically saying that I'm the Blue Lynx because we both have black hair. You don't have any proof."
"Proof?" Sunny said. "Proof?" She squatted down in front of Erin, once again placing her face between her prisoner's bare, spread knees. "How about this for proof? I keep you here, in my basement, for the next couple of weeks. No, months. And we'll see, in that time, if the Blue Lynx ever once makes an appearance in the city."
Erin squirmed. "You're not keeping me here for months, Sunny."
Sunny grinned evilly. "Oh, but I will, Erin Steele. If it means the end of the Blue Lynx, I'll do whatever it takes..."
She glanced at the metal box, still attached by four wires to Erin's legs and breasts.
"Maybe we should force a confession out of you with our little friend, here..."
"Maybe you should let her go."
It was a new voice. Low, authoritative, male... familiar. It came from behind the guards. Sunny spun around to face it.
"Who the hell are you?" she cried.
Erin didn't need to hear his answer. She had seen the man before. She dreamed about his hard body, his chiseled face, and his shimmering, golden costume every other night. She dreamed-- and she had nightmares.
The man cleared his throat and said. "I'm the Spaniel."
On to Chapter Nine
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
June 17th, 12:33 AM
Margot wasn't sure if she was completely conscious. Her senses felt normal. She could finally see without a trail of light following every moving object, hear without echoes bouncing around in her skull. She recognized the room she was in-- it was Hammerson's basement, where she had recently squared of with Sunny-- but she couldn't believe how the situation had changed. For one, she was tied up, and tightly: the quick tugs she gave to her wrist and ankle bonds did absolutely nothing. Clearly she had been ambushed and defeated-- but she couldn't remember exactly how.
But her current predicament was overshadowed by the other incredibly strange thing that was, apparently, as real as the ropes lashing her torso: the Spaniel. He was here, too. In his garish golden spandex unitard, his arms folded, all cocky superhero-like. He was speaking, saying something to Sunny. Staring down the guards, looking on at Erin and herself, bound and helpless.
What the hell was this?
"So you're that other guy," Sunny said. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."
"I know all about you, Sunny," the Spaniel said. His voice boomed, unnecessarily loud in this small, cramped space. "Your work for Hammerson. You're made of the same rotten fibers."
"Wow," Sunny said. "I'm insulted. You don't even know me! I can understand you saying that after dealing with me for... Oh... a few minutes. But you don't even give me that!" She chuckled. "I don't think I like you, Spaniard."
"The feeling's mutual," the Spaniel said. "Now, let the girls go."
"So, you're in on this too?" Sunny said. "It's a big superhero gala at Brent's house. Everyone's invited! Except that NONE of you were invited."
Margot wondered about that. Had the Spaniel been watching them this whole time? Making sure they were following through on his demands? Did he have some sort of tracking device, somewhere?
"Hey." A whisper.
Margot turned her head. Erin was looking at her. "You awake?"
"Yeah, I think so," Margot replied, quietly. "What's going on?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Erin said. "But I hope they kill each other."
Margot smiled. "Yeah, that would make things simpler, wouldn't it?"
"Margot," Erin said, even quieter and more intensely. "She knows."
"Knows?" Margot asked. "Knows what?"
"My secret," Erin said. "She figured it out."
Margot gulped. "Oh no."
"Yeah," Erin said, trying to force a smile. "This hasn't been a great month."
"But, I don't understand," Margot said. "You didn't... tell her, did you?"
Erin shook her head. "No. No, she has no proof. But she's on to me, Margot. She's on to both of us."
"Damn."
"Yeah. We've got to be extra careful."
"Okay."
"But first, we've got to get out of here."
Margot nodded. "Okay."
She looked up. The Spaniel and Sunny were still making each other's acquaintance. What more could there possibly be to say?
"So you'll be seeing more and more of me," the Spaniel said. "The Blue Lynx is taking a break."
Sunny smiled. "You have no idea what the Blue Lynx is doing. I know who she is."
The Spaniel blinked. "Oh, really?"
"I'm not telling you. The Blue Lynx's secret is mine alone. For now," she said. She turned around and flashed Erin a bright grin.
"Enough games, Sunny. Either untie the girls or face the consequences."
Sunny yawned. "You're starting to bore me, Spayed and Neutered. Guards." She snapped in the two thugs's direction. "Kindly show our boring guest the door, if you please."
The guards went for their guns, and the Spaniel went at them. He disarmed them both in seconds, snapped back an arm, drove one thug into the other, slammed them against the wall. It took less than half a minute to be back on the floor, the way the were not long ago, shortly after Margot's arrival.
"Goddamn," Sunny said. "What's the fucking use of these guys?"
The Spaniel launched himself at Sunny. Moving quickly and gracefully, she proved a stronger opponent then her guards, ducking the Spaniel's first attacks, and getting a few good jabs in. But the Spaniel persisted, and eventually wrapped her in a headlock, forcing her legs apart with his own, bearing down on her neck with his immense bulk.
"You..." Sunny spat. Seconds later, she was unconscious.
Margot looked on as the Spaniel laid Sunny on the floor more gently than she deserved. She watched him survey the scene-- the bodies of the guards, Sunny, the wreckage of the basement, and finally, the two tied heroines-- and couldn't help but be impressed. The guy was the real deal. He was quick, but also thorough. Decisive, but also careful. He was big, strong, agile, cunning. There was no question that the Spaniel knew what he was doing. Could Erin have taken out those guards so easily? Or put Sunny in a headlock without breaking a sweat?
Margot gulped. Was it possible that the Spaniel was just better at crimefighting than the Blue Lynx? Maybe the Spaniel was right. Maybe Erin should step aside.
"No!" Margot thought. "That's ridiculous. Never think that again."
The Spaniel had been gazing at the two of them for a while, his expression completely blank, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. What was he up to?
"Hey Brian," Erin said, finally. "Could we get a little help with these ropes?"
The Spaniel glared at her. "I think I've helped you enough tonight, Miss Steele. You're going to have to do this one on your own. For once."
And without another word or sound, the Spaniel turned around, leaving the basement as mysteriously as he had arrived.
On to Chapter Ten
June 17th, 12:33 AM
Margot wasn't sure if she was completely conscious. Her senses felt normal. She could finally see without a trail of light following every moving object, hear without echoes bouncing around in her skull. She recognized the room she was in-- it was Hammerson's basement, where she had recently squared of with Sunny-- but she couldn't believe how the situation had changed. For one, she was tied up, and tightly: the quick tugs she gave to her wrist and ankle bonds did absolutely nothing. Clearly she had been ambushed and defeated-- but she couldn't remember exactly how.
But her current predicament was overshadowed by the other incredibly strange thing that was, apparently, as real as the ropes lashing her torso: the Spaniel. He was here, too. In his garish golden spandex unitard, his arms folded, all cocky superhero-like. He was speaking, saying something to Sunny. Staring down the guards, looking on at Erin and herself, bound and helpless.
What the hell was this?
"So you're that other guy," Sunny said. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting."
"I know all about you, Sunny," the Spaniel said. His voice boomed, unnecessarily loud in this small, cramped space. "Your work for Hammerson. You're made of the same rotten fibers."
"Wow," Sunny said. "I'm insulted. You don't even know me! I can understand you saying that after dealing with me for... Oh... a few minutes. But you don't even give me that!" She chuckled. "I don't think I like you, Spaniard."
"The feeling's mutual," the Spaniel said. "Now, let the girls go."
"So, you're in on this too?" Sunny said. "It's a big superhero gala at Brent's house. Everyone's invited! Except that NONE of you were invited."
Margot wondered about that. Had the Spaniel been watching them this whole time? Making sure they were following through on his demands? Did he have some sort of tracking device, somewhere?
"Hey." A whisper.
Margot turned her head. Erin was looking at her. "You awake?"
"Yeah, I think so," Margot replied, quietly. "What's going on?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Erin said. "But I hope they kill each other."
Margot smiled. "Yeah, that would make things simpler, wouldn't it?"
"Margot," Erin said, even quieter and more intensely. "She knows."
"Knows?" Margot asked. "Knows what?"
"My secret," Erin said. "She figured it out."
Margot gulped. "Oh no."
"Yeah," Erin said, trying to force a smile. "This hasn't been a great month."
"But, I don't understand," Margot said. "You didn't... tell her, did you?"
Erin shook her head. "No. No, she has no proof. But she's on to me, Margot. She's on to both of us."
"Damn."
"Yeah. We've got to be extra careful."
"Okay."
"But first, we've got to get out of here."
Margot nodded. "Okay."
She looked up. The Spaniel and Sunny were still making each other's acquaintance. What more could there possibly be to say?
"So you'll be seeing more and more of me," the Spaniel said. "The Blue Lynx is taking a break."
Sunny smiled. "You have no idea what the Blue Lynx is doing. I know who she is."
The Spaniel blinked. "Oh, really?"
"I'm not telling you. The Blue Lynx's secret is mine alone. For now," she said. She turned around and flashed Erin a bright grin.
"Enough games, Sunny. Either untie the girls or face the consequences."
Sunny yawned. "You're starting to bore me, Spayed and Neutered. Guards." She snapped in the two thugs's direction. "Kindly show our boring guest the door, if you please."
The guards went for their guns, and the Spaniel went at them. He disarmed them both in seconds, snapped back an arm, drove one thug into the other, slammed them against the wall. It took less than half a minute to be back on the floor, the way the were not long ago, shortly after Margot's arrival.
"Goddamn," Sunny said. "What's the fucking use of these guys?"
The Spaniel launched himself at Sunny. Moving quickly and gracefully, she proved a stronger opponent then her guards, ducking the Spaniel's first attacks, and getting a few good jabs in. But the Spaniel persisted, and eventually wrapped her in a headlock, forcing her legs apart with his own, bearing down on her neck with his immense bulk.
"You..." Sunny spat. Seconds later, she was unconscious.
Margot looked on as the Spaniel laid Sunny on the floor more gently than she deserved. She watched him survey the scene-- the bodies of the guards, Sunny, the wreckage of the basement, and finally, the two tied heroines-- and couldn't help but be impressed. The guy was the real deal. He was quick, but also thorough. Decisive, but also careful. He was big, strong, agile, cunning. There was no question that the Spaniel knew what he was doing. Could Erin have taken out those guards so easily? Or put Sunny in a headlock without breaking a sweat?
Margot gulped. Was it possible that the Spaniel was just better at crimefighting than the Blue Lynx? Maybe the Spaniel was right. Maybe Erin should step aside.
"No!" Margot thought. "That's ridiculous. Never think that again."
The Spaniel had been gazing at the two of them for a while, his expression completely blank, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. What was he up to?
"Hey Brian," Erin said, finally. "Could we get a little help with these ropes?"
The Spaniel glared at her. "I think I've helped you enough tonight, Miss Steele. You're going to have to do this one on your own. For once."
And without another word or sound, the Spaniel turned around, leaving the basement as mysteriously as he had arrived.
On to Chapter Ten
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
June 17th, 10:38 AM
The sun blasting through Erin's window woke her much earlier than she would've liked. Placing a pillow on her face blocked out the light, but nothing could prevent the memories of last night from flooding her brain. She sat up in bed, totally naked, and placed her hands on her head.
Her first outing as a non-costumed superheroine had been, in a word, disastrous. The night had started off so promisingly-- she had infiltrated the party in her cute dress, defeated a few guards, and found a way into Hammerson's secret files-- and then taken a horrible, humiliating turn. She had been bound, tortured, and then had to watch the spectacle of Margot also being defeated and tied up. To make matters even worse, after a ruthless interrogation, it appeared that Sunny had figured out Erin's secret: she knew who the Blue Lynx was! Granted, she didn't actually have a photo or a mask in her hand. But Erin knew Sunny: she knew that once Sunny had a "theory" like this, she was going to follow up on it.
It made Erin shiver.
Of course, she and Margot were "saved," in a way: the Spaniel had swept in, what a badass (not), and did was the Blue Lynx never had a proper chance to do. But the bastard had just left them there. Alone. It had taken Erin and Margot thirty minutes to get their chairs back to back, retrieve a Bobcart Dart from Margot's belt, and patiently saw through the ropes binding their wrists. It was a completely unnecessary punishment. Weren't superheroes supposed to look after each other?
Erin shook her head. No. There's no way she would've helped the Spaniel, if the situation had been reversed. She hated him.
It was almost three in the morning when the girls finally got out of the basement, away from Hammerson's estate, and into the comfort of their beds. Bruised and beaten, it had taken Erin a minute to fall asleep. She had gotten nearly seven hours of peace. But it was a new day, now. The fears and anxieties were real, once more.
What would happen to her? The Spaniel said get a document or else. Would he announce her secret identity to the world? Would he put posters around town with her face? And what about Sunny? Would Sunny find out where she lived? Oh God. She already knew where she lived! Would she be coming over? Picking through her stuff? Would she get on the news and tell her side of the story? Would she and the Spaniel, like, join forces to come up with an ultimate unmasking plan?
Erin took a deep breath. "Settle down, kid," she told herself. "Get some coffee. Take a shower. Relax. What happens will happen."
It wasn't great advice, but it was enough. She jumped out of bed. She squeezed into a pair of teal panties and an oversized gray shirt she found strewn on the floor. She walked into her living room. Margot was still asleep. Good. She probably needed rest more than Erin did. She'd actually done some real superheroine work last night... And nearly got a concussion in return.
Erin went into the kitchen. She turned on the sink and filled up a glass of water. She chugged it, finishing it in one go, and exhaled. She wiped her lips. She heard a sound, a small knock on the front door, maybe? She went back to the living room and peered out the peephole. No one was in the hallway. She opened the door a crack and looked outside. Again, no one around. There was, however, a large yellow envelope sticking out of her mailbox.
Erin had seen this before. She took the envelope, shut the front door, and paced into the kitchen. She cut open the package with her fingernail and extracted a single piece of folded white paper.
She read the note.
Miss Steele,
We need to talk.
My place. Today. 5 o'clock. You come ALONE. No sidekicks.
This is your LAST CHANCE,
The Spaniel
Erin sighed.
The last time she went to Brian Nelson's apartment was the worst day of her life.
What did he have planned for her, this time?
She looked up. Margot walked into the kitchen and started making coffee. She was dressed in pink pajama pants and a black spaghetti-strap top. Her hair was an uncombed mess.
"Good morning," she muttered, clearly still in pain from last night.
"Hey," Erin replied.
Margot blinked at the letter. "That another one? From..."
"Yep," Erin said. "He wants me to come over. Alone. Later today."
"Well," Margot said, turning the coffee machine on. "Are you gonna do it?"
Erin set the letter on the counter. She stared at it for a second, and then looked into Margot's eyes.
"Yes," Erin said. "I have to."
On to Chapter Eleven
June 17th, 10:38 AM
The sun blasting through Erin's window woke her much earlier than she would've liked. Placing a pillow on her face blocked out the light, but nothing could prevent the memories of last night from flooding her brain. She sat up in bed, totally naked, and placed her hands on her head.
Her first outing as a non-costumed superheroine had been, in a word, disastrous. The night had started off so promisingly-- she had infiltrated the party in her cute dress, defeated a few guards, and found a way into Hammerson's secret files-- and then taken a horrible, humiliating turn. She had been bound, tortured, and then had to watch the spectacle of Margot also being defeated and tied up. To make matters even worse, after a ruthless interrogation, it appeared that Sunny had figured out Erin's secret: she knew who the Blue Lynx was! Granted, she didn't actually have a photo or a mask in her hand. But Erin knew Sunny: she knew that once Sunny had a "theory" like this, she was going to follow up on it.
It made Erin shiver.
Of course, she and Margot were "saved," in a way: the Spaniel had swept in, what a badass (not), and did was the Blue Lynx never had a proper chance to do. But the bastard had just left them there. Alone. It had taken Erin and Margot thirty minutes to get their chairs back to back, retrieve a Bobcart Dart from Margot's belt, and patiently saw through the ropes binding their wrists. It was a completely unnecessary punishment. Weren't superheroes supposed to look after each other?
Erin shook her head. No. There's no way she would've helped the Spaniel, if the situation had been reversed. She hated him.
It was almost three in the morning when the girls finally got out of the basement, away from Hammerson's estate, and into the comfort of their beds. Bruised and beaten, it had taken Erin a minute to fall asleep. She had gotten nearly seven hours of peace. But it was a new day, now. The fears and anxieties were real, once more.
What would happen to her? The Spaniel said get a document or else. Would he announce her secret identity to the world? Would he put posters around town with her face? And what about Sunny? Would Sunny find out where she lived? Oh God. She already knew where she lived! Would she be coming over? Picking through her stuff? Would she get on the news and tell her side of the story? Would she and the Spaniel, like, join forces to come up with an ultimate unmasking plan?
Erin took a deep breath. "Settle down, kid," she told herself. "Get some coffee. Take a shower. Relax. What happens will happen."
It wasn't great advice, but it was enough. She jumped out of bed. She squeezed into a pair of teal panties and an oversized gray shirt she found strewn on the floor. She walked into her living room. Margot was still asleep. Good. She probably needed rest more than Erin did. She'd actually done some real superheroine work last night... And nearly got a concussion in return.
Erin went into the kitchen. She turned on the sink and filled up a glass of water. She chugged it, finishing it in one go, and exhaled. She wiped her lips. She heard a sound, a small knock on the front door, maybe? She went back to the living room and peered out the peephole. No one was in the hallway. She opened the door a crack and looked outside. Again, no one around. There was, however, a large yellow envelope sticking out of her mailbox.
Erin had seen this before. She took the envelope, shut the front door, and paced into the kitchen. She cut open the package with her fingernail and extracted a single piece of folded white paper.
She read the note.
Miss Steele,
We need to talk.
My place. Today. 5 o'clock. You come ALONE. No sidekicks.
This is your LAST CHANCE,
The Spaniel
Erin sighed.
The last time she went to Brian Nelson's apartment was the worst day of her life.
What did he have planned for her, this time?
She looked up. Margot walked into the kitchen and started making coffee. She was dressed in pink pajama pants and a black spaghetti-strap top. Her hair was an uncombed mess.
"Good morning," she muttered, clearly still in pain from last night.
"Hey," Erin replied.
Margot blinked at the letter. "That another one? From..."
"Yep," Erin said. "He wants me to come over. Alone. Later today."
"Well," Margot said, turning the coffee machine on. "Are you gonna do it?"
Erin set the letter on the counter. She stared at it for a second, and then looked into Margot's eyes.
"Yes," Erin said. "I have to."
On to Chapter Eleven
Rival Hero: Return the Favor: Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
June 17th, 4:58 PM
Just before she knocked on the Spaniel's door, Erin paused.
She looked down at herself. The last time she had been standing here, she had been the Blue Lynx: well-built, perfectly toned, a stunning superheroine in blue and white. That night, nearly a month ago, was the last time she had worn that costume. Today, she came to Brian Nelson's apartment in light blue jeans, black boots, and a yellow v-necked T-shirt. She came there, in short, as Erin Steele: a little less muscular, a little less intimidating, a normal young woman who you would never guess was once the city's most feared crimefighter.
She sighed. She truly had no idea what she was getting into. When Margot asked if she could come along, Erin had shaken her head. "I know you're going to try, anyway," Erin said. "But I really need to do this one on my own." It was for Margot's own good, but it was also for Erin's confidence. She needed a win tonight. Or she need something, anything, other than another humiliating defeat.
She was lost in thought when the door opened, startling her. Brian stood there, in a tucked-in shirt and jeans, as average-looking as she was.
"Erin Steele," he said, barely containing his grin. "Right on time. Come on in."
Erin didn't say anything. She shut her eyes and walked through the door, letting Brian close it gently behind her. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that the apartment was mostly dark except for the light of four candles. The candles were standing on a long table decorated with flowers, a silk tablecloth, and silverware that glimmered in the faint light.
"You should take a seat," Brian said. "You've had a rough twenty-four hours."
Erin gulped. "Is this... a date?"
"Not exactly," Brian said. "But you are my guest. I actually invited you this time. So please." He gestured at the table.
Erin moved without enthusiasm to a chair and sat down. She scooted it up to table, keeping her hands by her sides. The table had been set up for two, with matching plates, bowls, glasses, and two chairs facing each other.
"So... what are we... umm... having?" Erin asked.
Brian laughed. "First, some wine." He skipped to the fridge and pulled out something white. "Chardonnay okay with you?"
Erin nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"Good," Brian said. He uncorked the bottle and walked to the table. "I know you love this stuff," he said, turning the bottle over and letting the liquid flow into Erin's glass. "I know pretty much everything about you, and your habits."
Erin watched as the wine filled into the brim. It did look tasty. But she knew she couldn't drink. Not all of it, anyway. She had to be lucid. If she could just stay sober while the Spaniel got drunk, she might get an edge.
"Taste it, for me?" Brian said.
Erin brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. "It's good," she said. She set the glass back on the table. "You should have some."
"Of course," Brian said, pouring himself a serving as big as Erin's. "It's important to enjoy yourself, every so often. Even as a superhero." He rested the bottle between him and his guest and dropped into the empty chair. "Don't you think?"
"Whatever you need to do to keep sane," Erin said. "It's a tough job."
"Oh, it's not that hard," Brian said. He took a big gulp of wine and wiped his lips. "You just have to be stronger and faster than your opponents. And I haven't met anyone yet who is stronger or faster than me."
He was such a cocky bastard.
"I guess you're speaking from your experience, though," Brian continued. "It must be harder for girls. Because, you know, they're smaller. Weaker. Less muscle mass."
Erin furrowed her brow. The Spaniel was obviously trying to get under her skin. She knew that she shouldn't take the bait. Still, the bait was very, very difficult to resist.
"Like that first time we fought," Brian said. "You've got some good moves. But remember how easily I just, like, overpowered you? Pinned you down? Wrapped you up in bolas? That was just me being naturally superior."
Erin gritted her teeth. "We should re-match," she finally said, quietly but firmly.
"Maybe some day," Brian said, with a small smile. He took another swig of wine, swallowed, and exhaled noisily. "Last night, too," he said, resuming his subject. "That was another case of you just being overwhelmed. That doesn't happen to me."
"Overwhelmed?" Erin said, instinctively. "You mean when I broke into Hammerson's office and was attacked by thirty armed guards?"
Brian nodded. "Yep. Not a good showing, Blue Lynx."
"What are you talking about?" Erin said, her voice climbing. "I went up against THIRTY guards. No one person can take on thirty men. I don't care who you are. That was not me being weak. That was an impossible situation."
"I don't think there were thirty," Brian said. "But regardless of the number... The fact is that you put yourself in that situation."
Erin recognized more than a bit of truth in the Spaniel's words, which might have made them even more infuriating. "No, Brian..."
"Spaniel," Brian replied. "You refer to me as The Spaniel."
Erin groaned. "Okay, Spaniel. You want to talk facts? You put me in that situation. You sent me on that dumb mission."
"I did," Brian said. "But when I went in there, I had no trouble sneaking around. I got into Hammerson's office, just like you. And then I beat Sunny and her thugs and rescued you. Something I hope that you appreciate."
"You got into Hammerson's office?" Erin said. "Really? So what was the point of me going in there?"
Brian finished off his glass of wine with a long swallow. "Ahh," he said. "What's the point of any of this, Erin Steele? I just think it's fun to torment you."
Erin's fingers had turned into fists in her lap. She looked at the candles to avoid eye contact with the Spaniel, which she knew would only enrage her further.
"There's just one thing about that night that bothers me," Brian said. "And that's what Sunny was saying. She said she knew your secret." He paused for effect, staring into Erin's eyes. "Does she?"
Erin shook her head. "No," she said, lying. "She has no idea what she's talking about."
"Good," Brian said. "I want your secret to be mine and mine alone. For now." He picked up the wine bottle and poured himself another glass. "Want some more?"
Erin shook her head again. "No."
"Suit yourself," Brian said, setting the bottle between them. He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Hey, I want to show you something."
He got up from his chair and moved around the table, eventually squatting down next to Erin. He held his phone out in front of his body so that both of them could see it.
"Cat video?" Erin asked.
"In a way," Brian said, with a small, menacing giggle. "You probably wanted to know why you're here, Erin Steele. Well, consider this your first clue."
Brian touched the screen, and a video began to play. The video was shaky and dark, clearly shot on someone's phone. The deep voice off camera made it obvious whose phone it was.
"Okay, here we go," the narrator in the video said. The camera panned up, and suddenly, in blurry but still recognizable detail, there she was. Her. Erin. The Blue Lynx. Unconscious. Her arms and legs splayed out among the splintered remnants of a shattered table. Her belt jostled up to the middle of her torso, her boots and gloves filthy with wood dust, her face nestled into her shoulder, hair obscuring most of her expression.
The camera moved closer. "Here she is, folks," the narrator announced. "The Blue Lynx. Helpless. In my apartment." The lens surveyed the wreckage of the table before holding still on her upper body. "It only cost me my kitchen," the voice intoned.
"Spaniel," Erin said. "I don't have to see this..."
"Shh," Brian said. "The best is yet to come."
The camera zoomed out, showing Erin's motionless body in full, and then moved down, eventually settling on the Blue Lynx's white boots. "The legendary beauty," the narrator continued. "Finally defeated." A hand appeared from the side of the shot, landing on the toe of Erin's boot. It squeezed the rubber a few times. "Just exquisite," the voice said. The camera began to scan up the length of Erin's legs. When it arrived at the place where the seam of her spandex met the upper thigh, the narrator sighed with pleasure. "Such a wonderful ass," he said, the hand re-appearing to poke the side of Erin's butt cheek.
Erin shut her eyes. This was almost... Pornographic. It was sick.
The camera and the hand now crawled up Erin's abdomen and chest, the hand caressing her belly and poking her breasts along the way. "I can't believe this," the narrator whispered. The camera was shaking as it climbed the unconscious superheroine's neck. "We're finally going to know... Who she really is." The camera froze. The hand cautiously lowered itself again, sweeping away the mess of hair on Erin's face. "Oh man." A forefinger gently lowered itself beneath Erin's chin and drew it upward, so that the Blue Lynx's face took up the entirety of the frame.
"Here it is, folks... the secret identity of the Blue Lynx." The hand clutched the right edge of Erin's mask, and stopped. There was a deep breath. Then, in a slow, patient motion, the hand passed over Erin's face, tugging the Blue Lynx's mask along with it, peeling it from Erin's skin inch by inch. When the hand had arrived at the other side, the mask was completely in its grasp. And Erin's face was completely exposed.
"Oh shit, oh shit," the narrator said. The camera lurched backward. The narrator was standing above the Blue Lynx once more, looking down. "I know that face. That's... the mayor girl. Erin Steele."
Brian paused the video. He turned to Erin, who was still and silent in her seat. "I think you get the picture," he said.
Erin gulped. She had never seen herself being unmasked. She had unmasked herself in front of a mirror, of course. But to watch it happening without her involvement... To see herself unconscious and at the mercy of this creep, who enjoyed it so thoroughly... To see how easily he had stripped her of her greatest secret... It created a sense of helplessness in her like little else. Which of course was was the Spaniel was aiming for. The bastard.
"Are you threatening me?" she asked. "That's not great evidence. You look like a huge tool in it. And there's no proof that you're actually unmasking the Blue Lynx. That could've been me just dressing up for your weird sexual inclinations."
Brian slid the phone back in his pocket. "You're right," he said. "I know."
Erin paused. What was he getting at? What did he want?
"I've probably watched that clip one hundred times, Erin." He walked to the other side of the table and resumed his seat. "It just makes me feel... So good. So powerful."
"I'm your fetish," Erin snarled.
Brian smiled. "Maybe. Whatever you want to call it, that video is currently my most prized possession. I love it so much that... that I want another."
Erin blinked. "Another video?"
Brian nodded. "One that's clearer, more professional. One that can be admitted as evidence, but more importantly, one that lingers even longer on the good stuff. I want to take my time with this one."
Erin almost wished she had drunk more wine. A little alcohol might have helped make this insane situation more bearable.
"You'll find your costume in my bedroom," Brian continued. "Put it on."
"Put it on?" Erin said. "Are you kidding me? I'm not your little sex toy."
"I have your unmasked face on my phone," Brian said. "And your costume in my bedroom. You can choose to cooperate. Or we can test just how persuasive my little clip actually is. I'll send to everyone, right now, Erin Steele. Every social media site. Every newspaper..."
Erin groaned. "Yeah, I know." My God, he was so annoying. And yet, the more Erin thought about it, the more she liked this idea. She doubted that Brian was giving her her belt back-- that was too risky, even for an overconfident jackass like him. But Brian was giving her time, alone, in his bedroom. She could get her costume back, defeat him, and come up with a plan.
"I see the wheels turning," Brian said. "You see this as an opportunity to get free from my clutches. And you may be right. But I'm willing to take that risk for another video."
Erin stood up. She picked up the wine glass and took a hearty swallow. She slammed the glass back on the table. "Great," she said. "Where's your bedroom?"
"Just down the hall," Brian said, grinning. "Take your time. Get superheroinely, for me."
"I will," Erin said.
She left Brian, walked down the hall, and opened the door to his bedroom, where laid out on the bed like school-clothes were her spandex outfit, boots, gloves, and mask. As she had expected, there was no utility belt in sight. But the mere act of seeing her Blue Lynx stuff again filled her with incredible emotion, equal parts sadness over the last month and hope for the near future.
"Okay," she thought, pushing the door closed. "Let's do this."
Erin shimmied out of her jeans and T-shirt, leaving her civilian clothes in a pile on the floor. She caught her reflection in a full length mirror on the bedroom wall. She adjusted her thong and her bra, fixed her hair, and flexed. She wasn't in peak condition yet. But she did feel powerful, enough to beat the Spaniel tonight, at least. She picked up her spandex from the bed and brought it to her face, taking a long whiff. It hadn't been washed since she'd last worn it. "Such a creep," Erin thought, pushing her feet through the costume's leg holes and gradually pulling the spandex up and over her shoulders. She put on her boots next, then her gloves, and then went back to the mirror with her mask. She sighed, looking at Erin Steele's face, and then pressed the blue fabric against her skin.
Her secret identity was obscured, again. Once more, she was the Blue Lynx.
"Alright," Erin said to herself. "I wonder if there's anything else in here that will help me..."
A crash came from outside. Erin pushed herself against the door. She heard Brian yell, and the sounds of other voices. Something broke. Banshee-like female laughter rang out loud and clear. Laughter Erin recognized.
"Oh no," she thought.
She dashed out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. The scene had changed. Four huge men, all armed, were now standing around, two of them pinning Brian to the ground with their boots. Brian lay there, seemingly unconscious, amidst fallen chairs and broken glass. They had broken in, beaten him up, and were now waiting for something. Her?
"What's going on here?" Erin said. She placed her hands on her hips.
"Oh, I think you know, Erin Steele," a familiar voice said. From behind the four men emerged a smaller figure, a woman with bleached blonde hair, clad entirely in leather. Sunny.
"Sunny!" Erin cried. "What are you doing here?"
"Why, following you, of course," Sunny said. "Isn't it funny how Erin Steele came in here half an hour ago... And now I see only the Blue Lynx?"
Erin grunted. "You're... tracking me? Tracking Erin Steele, I mean?"
Sunny giggled. "You should know by now that I'm a persistent woman. Once I have a theory, I want to see some proof. Well, I think I got it now."
The room was spinning. Everything about this situation was overwhelming. The guards, Brian unconscious, the mess that had happened in just a few minutes. Had Sunny really seen her arrive at Brian's apartment?
"You... you..." Erin said, her facing flushing red. "I'm gonna... destroy you..."
"Not so fast, Erin Steele," Sunny said, holding up her hand. "Come quietly, or your boyfriend here gets it." She pointed at one of the guards, who in turn pointed his gun at Brian's head.
"Go ahead, do it," Erin thought. That would take care of one of her problems... But no. She couldn't. She was a superheroine. She could never willingly place another person's life in danger, even if that person was a huge asshole like Brian. She couldn't fight back. She had to surrender.
"Okay," Erin muttered, lifting her arms in the air at right angles. "I'll come quietly."
"Perfect," Sunny said. She snapped her fingers. Two guards wandered over to Erin, each one at least a foot taller than her. They stood by her sides, grinning at their prey, waiting for the next door.
"Hold her still," Sunny said. The guards snatched Erin's arms. She tried to fight them off, perfunctorily, but even if she had really wanted to break free, she probably could not: their hands wrapped around her biceps like rubber bands, squeezing her muscles into jelly. There was an arm for each guard, and they pulled her wrists back behind her easily. The guards braced her feet with their own boots, so that Erin could finally only move her head and neck. She whipped around her hair, glaring at Sunny.
"You haven't won," Erin said, watching her opponent walk toward her with arrogant strides. "You think this is over, but it's not. I'm the Blue Lynx, and..."
Erin was suddenly silenced by a cloth pressed to her lips. Sunny had one hand around the back of her head, her long fingers digging through the dense thicket of Erin's hair, and the other pushing the chloroform against her face. The surprise forced Erin to take a deep breath, which immediately drained her of half her energy. She stared at Sunny, who stared right back, her eyes wide open and shining, clearly enjoying the picture of Erin struggling against the chloroform, the guards, the situation in general.
"You're going to rest, now," Sunny said. "You're going to sleep for a while, and you're coming to come with us. And when you wake up, you're life will have been forever changed."
Erin felt her eyelids flutter. Her whole body was beginning to wilt under the pressure of the chloroform. Her knees were buckling, her posture was slumping. She tried to maintain eye contact with Sunny. She wanted her to know that... she... could still... fight...
"And I want you to know right now that, even if you don't remember this moment... This last moment of your superheroine life... I will remember it. Forever."
"Mmm?" Erin said, weakly. "Mmmph mmph mmph mmphing mmph..."
And then, just as Erin's eyes rolled back into her head, Sunny moved her free hand and, with a dramatic flourish, launched the Blue Lynx mask from her face. The guards released Erin's arms and she sagged to the floor, hitting it knee-first, and then toppling over, finally hitting the ground with her bare face just as her blue mask settled calmly beside her.
THE END?
Back to the Table of Contents
June 17th, 4:58 PM
Just before she knocked on the Spaniel's door, Erin paused.
She looked down at herself. The last time she had been standing here, she had been the Blue Lynx: well-built, perfectly toned, a stunning superheroine in blue and white. That night, nearly a month ago, was the last time she had worn that costume. Today, she came to Brian Nelson's apartment in light blue jeans, black boots, and a yellow v-necked T-shirt. She came there, in short, as Erin Steele: a little less muscular, a little less intimidating, a normal young woman who you would never guess was once the city's most feared crimefighter.
She sighed. She truly had no idea what she was getting into. When Margot asked if she could come along, Erin had shaken her head. "I know you're going to try, anyway," Erin said. "But I really need to do this one on my own." It was for Margot's own good, but it was also for Erin's confidence. She needed a win tonight. Or she need something, anything, other than another humiliating defeat.
She was lost in thought when the door opened, startling her. Brian stood there, in a tucked-in shirt and jeans, as average-looking as she was.
"Erin Steele," he said, barely containing his grin. "Right on time. Come on in."
Erin didn't say anything. She shut her eyes and walked through the door, letting Brian close it gently behind her. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that the apartment was mostly dark except for the light of four candles. The candles were standing on a long table decorated with flowers, a silk tablecloth, and silverware that glimmered in the faint light.
"You should take a seat," Brian said. "You've had a rough twenty-four hours."
Erin gulped. "Is this... a date?"
"Not exactly," Brian said. "But you are my guest. I actually invited you this time. So please." He gestured at the table.
Erin moved without enthusiasm to a chair and sat down. She scooted it up to table, keeping her hands by her sides. The table had been set up for two, with matching plates, bowls, glasses, and two chairs facing each other.
"So... what are we... umm... having?" Erin asked.
Brian laughed. "First, some wine." He skipped to the fridge and pulled out something white. "Chardonnay okay with you?"
Erin nodded. "Yeah, sure."
"Good," Brian said. He uncorked the bottle and walked to the table. "I know you love this stuff," he said, turning the bottle over and letting the liquid flow into Erin's glass. "I know pretty much everything about you, and your habits."
Erin watched as the wine filled into the brim. It did look tasty. But she knew she couldn't drink. Not all of it, anyway. She had to be lucid. If she could just stay sober while the Spaniel got drunk, she might get an edge.
"Taste it, for me?" Brian said.
Erin brought the glass to her lips and took a sip. "It's good," she said. She set the glass back on the table. "You should have some."
"Of course," Brian said, pouring himself a serving as big as Erin's. "It's important to enjoy yourself, every so often. Even as a superhero." He rested the bottle between him and his guest and dropped into the empty chair. "Don't you think?"
"Whatever you need to do to keep sane," Erin said. "It's a tough job."
"Oh, it's not that hard," Brian said. He took a big gulp of wine and wiped his lips. "You just have to be stronger and faster than your opponents. And I haven't met anyone yet who is stronger or faster than me."
He was such a cocky bastard.
"I guess you're speaking from your experience, though," Brian continued. "It must be harder for girls. Because, you know, they're smaller. Weaker. Less muscle mass."
Erin furrowed her brow. The Spaniel was obviously trying to get under her skin. She knew that she shouldn't take the bait. Still, the bait was very, very difficult to resist.
"Like that first time we fought," Brian said. "You've got some good moves. But remember how easily I just, like, overpowered you? Pinned you down? Wrapped you up in bolas? That was just me being naturally superior."
Erin gritted her teeth. "We should re-match," she finally said, quietly but firmly.
"Maybe some day," Brian said, with a small smile. He took another swig of wine, swallowed, and exhaled noisily. "Last night, too," he said, resuming his subject. "That was another case of you just being overwhelmed. That doesn't happen to me."
"Overwhelmed?" Erin said, instinctively. "You mean when I broke into Hammerson's office and was attacked by thirty armed guards?"
Brian nodded. "Yep. Not a good showing, Blue Lynx."
"What are you talking about?" Erin said, her voice climbing. "I went up against THIRTY guards. No one person can take on thirty men. I don't care who you are. That was not me being weak. That was an impossible situation."
"I don't think there were thirty," Brian said. "But regardless of the number... The fact is that you put yourself in that situation."
Erin recognized more than a bit of truth in the Spaniel's words, which might have made them even more infuriating. "No, Brian..."
"Spaniel," Brian replied. "You refer to me as The Spaniel."
Erin groaned. "Okay, Spaniel. You want to talk facts? You put me in that situation. You sent me on that dumb mission."
"I did," Brian said. "But when I went in there, I had no trouble sneaking around. I got into Hammerson's office, just like you. And then I beat Sunny and her thugs and rescued you. Something I hope that you appreciate."
"You got into Hammerson's office?" Erin said. "Really? So what was the point of me going in there?"
Brian finished off his glass of wine with a long swallow. "Ahh," he said. "What's the point of any of this, Erin Steele? I just think it's fun to torment you."
Erin's fingers had turned into fists in her lap. She looked at the candles to avoid eye contact with the Spaniel, which she knew would only enrage her further.
"There's just one thing about that night that bothers me," Brian said. "And that's what Sunny was saying. She said she knew your secret." He paused for effect, staring into Erin's eyes. "Does she?"
Erin shook her head. "No," she said, lying. "She has no idea what she's talking about."
"Good," Brian said. "I want your secret to be mine and mine alone. For now." He picked up the wine bottle and poured himself another glass. "Want some more?"
Erin shook her head again. "No."
"Suit yourself," Brian said, setting the bottle between them. He pulled his phone from his pocket. "Hey, I want to show you something."
He got up from his chair and moved around the table, eventually squatting down next to Erin. He held his phone out in front of his body so that both of them could see it.
"Cat video?" Erin asked.
"In a way," Brian said, with a small, menacing giggle. "You probably wanted to know why you're here, Erin Steele. Well, consider this your first clue."
Brian touched the screen, and a video began to play. The video was shaky and dark, clearly shot on someone's phone. The deep voice off camera made it obvious whose phone it was.
"Okay, here we go," the narrator in the video said. The camera panned up, and suddenly, in blurry but still recognizable detail, there she was. Her. Erin. The Blue Lynx. Unconscious. Her arms and legs splayed out among the splintered remnants of a shattered table. Her belt jostled up to the middle of her torso, her boots and gloves filthy with wood dust, her face nestled into her shoulder, hair obscuring most of her expression.
The camera moved closer. "Here she is, folks," the narrator announced. "The Blue Lynx. Helpless. In my apartment." The lens surveyed the wreckage of the table before holding still on her upper body. "It only cost me my kitchen," the voice intoned.
"Spaniel," Erin said. "I don't have to see this..."
"Shh," Brian said. "The best is yet to come."
The camera zoomed out, showing Erin's motionless body in full, and then moved down, eventually settling on the Blue Lynx's white boots. "The legendary beauty," the narrator continued. "Finally defeated." A hand appeared from the side of the shot, landing on the toe of Erin's boot. It squeezed the rubber a few times. "Just exquisite," the voice said. The camera began to scan up the length of Erin's legs. When it arrived at the place where the seam of her spandex met the upper thigh, the narrator sighed with pleasure. "Such a wonderful ass," he said, the hand re-appearing to poke the side of Erin's butt cheek.
Erin shut her eyes. This was almost... Pornographic. It was sick.
The camera and the hand now crawled up Erin's abdomen and chest, the hand caressing her belly and poking her breasts along the way. "I can't believe this," the narrator whispered. The camera was shaking as it climbed the unconscious superheroine's neck. "We're finally going to know... Who she really is." The camera froze. The hand cautiously lowered itself again, sweeping away the mess of hair on Erin's face. "Oh man." A forefinger gently lowered itself beneath Erin's chin and drew it upward, so that the Blue Lynx's face took up the entirety of the frame.
"Here it is, folks... the secret identity of the Blue Lynx." The hand clutched the right edge of Erin's mask, and stopped. There was a deep breath. Then, in a slow, patient motion, the hand passed over Erin's face, tugging the Blue Lynx's mask along with it, peeling it from Erin's skin inch by inch. When the hand had arrived at the other side, the mask was completely in its grasp. And Erin's face was completely exposed.
"Oh shit, oh shit," the narrator said. The camera lurched backward. The narrator was standing above the Blue Lynx once more, looking down. "I know that face. That's... the mayor girl. Erin Steele."
Brian paused the video. He turned to Erin, who was still and silent in her seat. "I think you get the picture," he said.
Erin gulped. She had never seen herself being unmasked. She had unmasked herself in front of a mirror, of course. But to watch it happening without her involvement... To see herself unconscious and at the mercy of this creep, who enjoyed it so thoroughly... To see how easily he had stripped her of her greatest secret... It created a sense of helplessness in her like little else. Which of course was was the Spaniel was aiming for. The bastard.
"Are you threatening me?" she asked. "That's not great evidence. You look like a huge tool in it. And there's no proof that you're actually unmasking the Blue Lynx. That could've been me just dressing up for your weird sexual inclinations."
Brian slid the phone back in his pocket. "You're right," he said. "I know."
Erin paused. What was he getting at? What did he want?
"I've probably watched that clip one hundred times, Erin." He walked to the other side of the table and resumed his seat. "It just makes me feel... So good. So powerful."
"I'm your fetish," Erin snarled.
Brian smiled. "Maybe. Whatever you want to call it, that video is currently my most prized possession. I love it so much that... that I want another."
Erin blinked. "Another video?"
Brian nodded. "One that's clearer, more professional. One that can be admitted as evidence, but more importantly, one that lingers even longer on the good stuff. I want to take my time with this one."
Erin almost wished she had drunk more wine. A little alcohol might have helped make this insane situation more bearable.
"You'll find your costume in my bedroom," Brian continued. "Put it on."
"Put it on?" Erin said. "Are you kidding me? I'm not your little sex toy."
"I have your unmasked face on my phone," Brian said. "And your costume in my bedroom. You can choose to cooperate. Or we can test just how persuasive my little clip actually is. I'll send to everyone, right now, Erin Steele. Every social media site. Every newspaper..."
Erin groaned. "Yeah, I know." My God, he was so annoying. And yet, the more Erin thought about it, the more she liked this idea. She doubted that Brian was giving her her belt back-- that was too risky, even for an overconfident jackass like him. But Brian was giving her time, alone, in his bedroom. She could get her costume back, defeat him, and come up with a plan.
"I see the wheels turning," Brian said. "You see this as an opportunity to get free from my clutches. And you may be right. But I'm willing to take that risk for another video."
Erin stood up. She picked up the wine glass and took a hearty swallow. She slammed the glass back on the table. "Great," she said. "Where's your bedroom?"
"Just down the hall," Brian said, grinning. "Take your time. Get superheroinely, for me."
"I will," Erin said.
She left Brian, walked down the hall, and opened the door to his bedroom, where laid out on the bed like school-clothes were her spandex outfit, boots, gloves, and mask. As she had expected, there was no utility belt in sight. But the mere act of seeing her Blue Lynx stuff again filled her with incredible emotion, equal parts sadness over the last month and hope for the near future.
"Okay," she thought, pushing the door closed. "Let's do this."
Erin shimmied out of her jeans and T-shirt, leaving her civilian clothes in a pile on the floor. She caught her reflection in a full length mirror on the bedroom wall. She adjusted her thong and her bra, fixed her hair, and flexed. She wasn't in peak condition yet. But she did feel powerful, enough to beat the Spaniel tonight, at least. She picked up her spandex from the bed and brought it to her face, taking a long whiff. It hadn't been washed since she'd last worn it. "Such a creep," Erin thought, pushing her feet through the costume's leg holes and gradually pulling the spandex up and over her shoulders. She put on her boots next, then her gloves, and then went back to the mirror with her mask. She sighed, looking at Erin Steele's face, and then pressed the blue fabric against her skin.
Her secret identity was obscured, again. Once more, she was the Blue Lynx.
"Alright," Erin said to herself. "I wonder if there's anything else in here that will help me..."
A crash came from outside. Erin pushed herself against the door. She heard Brian yell, and the sounds of other voices. Something broke. Banshee-like female laughter rang out loud and clear. Laughter Erin recognized.
"Oh no," she thought.
She dashed out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. The scene had changed. Four huge men, all armed, were now standing around, two of them pinning Brian to the ground with their boots. Brian lay there, seemingly unconscious, amidst fallen chairs and broken glass. They had broken in, beaten him up, and were now waiting for something. Her?
"What's going on here?" Erin said. She placed her hands on her hips.
"Oh, I think you know, Erin Steele," a familiar voice said. From behind the four men emerged a smaller figure, a woman with bleached blonde hair, clad entirely in leather. Sunny.
"Sunny!" Erin cried. "What are you doing here?"
"Why, following you, of course," Sunny said. "Isn't it funny how Erin Steele came in here half an hour ago... And now I see only the Blue Lynx?"
Erin grunted. "You're... tracking me? Tracking Erin Steele, I mean?"
Sunny giggled. "You should know by now that I'm a persistent woman. Once I have a theory, I want to see some proof. Well, I think I got it now."
The room was spinning. Everything about this situation was overwhelming. The guards, Brian unconscious, the mess that had happened in just a few minutes. Had Sunny really seen her arrive at Brian's apartment?
"You... you..." Erin said, her facing flushing red. "I'm gonna... destroy you..."
"Not so fast, Erin Steele," Sunny said, holding up her hand. "Come quietly, or your boyfriend here gets it." She pointed at one of the guards, who in turn pointed his gun at Brian's head.
"Go ahead, do it," Erin thought. That would take care of one of her problems... But no. She couldn't. She was a superheroine. She could never willingly place another person's life in danger, even if that person was a huge asshole like Brian. She couldn't fight back. She had to surrender.
"Okay," Erin muttered, lifting her arms in the air at right angles. "I'll come quietly."
"Perfect," Sunny said. She snapped her fingers. Two guards wandered over to Erin, each one at least a foot taller than her. They stood by her sides, grinning at their prey, waiting for the next door.
"Hold her still," Sunny said. The guards snatched Erin's arms. She tried to fight them off, perfunctorily, but even if she had really wanted to break free, she probably could not: their hands wrapped around her biceps like rubber bands, squeezing her muscles into jelly. There was an arm for each guard, and they pulled her wrists back behind her easily. The guards braced her feet with their own boots, so that Erin could finally only move her head and neck. She whipped around her hair, glaring at Sunny.
"You haven't won," Erin said, watching her opponent walk toward her with arrogant strides. "You think this is over, but it's not. I'm the Blue Lynx, and..."
Erin was suddenly silenced by a cloth pressed to her lips. Sunny had one hand around the back of her head, her long fingers digging through the dense thicket of Erin's hair, and the other pushing the chloroform against her face. The surprise forced Erin to take a deep breath, which immediately drained her of half her energy. She stared at Sunny, who stared right back, her eyes wide open and shining, clearly enjoying the picture of Erin struggling against the chloroform, the guards, the situation in general.
"You're going to rest, now," Sunny said. "You're going to sleep for a while, and you're coming to come with us. And when you wake up, you're life will have been forever changed."
Erin felt her eyelids flutter. Her whole body was beginning to wilt under the pressure of the chloroform. Her knees were buckling, her posture was slumping. She tried to maintain eye contact with Sunny. She wanted her to know that... she... could still... fight...
"And I want you to know right now that, even if you don't remember this moment... This last moment of your superheroine life... I will remember it. Forever."
"Mmm?" Erin said, weakly. "Mmmph mmph mmph mmphing mmph..."
And then, just as Erin's eyes rolled back into her head, Sunny moved her free hand and, with a dramatic flourish, launched the Blue Lynx mask from her face. The guards released Erin's arms and she sagged to the floor, hitting it knee-first, and then toppling over, finally hitting the ground with her bare face just as her blue mask settled calmly beside her.
THE END?
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