The Metahuman Agency: The Superhuman War

Mad Art

Jason tried to move but the old woman shot through the air like a bullet and crashed down on top of him. She grabbed his wrists, her wrinkled mouth curling into a hideous grin, drool spilling from her leathery lips. Jason tried to throw her off but her grip was like iron and she easily held him down. She was strong, really strong, despite looking like the reject from an elderly homeless colony.

She pressed his arms against the floor, flatting herself on top of him. Her face moved closer to his and Jason smelled her breath. It smelled like an open sewer filled with rotten food. He struggled violently again, trying to get her off, but she kept him pinned without even seeming to exert herself.

"Now now..." The old woman purred, shoving her disgusting face inches away from Jason's. Up close, Jason could see the uncomfortable details of her elderly visage. Her sagging, wrinkled skin was covered in old warts and boils, bits of dried crust coated the edges of her puffy eyes, while what looked like bits of spider webbing dangled from her cheeks and hair. "Don't struggle. You'll like this part..." Her tongue shot out and liked the edge of his mask. Jason panted hard, his heart begin to quick. "Mmm. You smell good. So fresh, so young, I like it. I'm going to enjoy this so much...I can't wait to see what's under this outfit, young man, and taste your supple, soft skin."

Jason's eyes widened. This old woman was going to eat him? He cried out, as the old woman opened her mouth and lunged for his nose. But Max suddenly appeared over him and swung the rifle at her. The old woman spun with lightning fast reflexes, one arm shooting off Jason, twisting at an impossible angle, and grabbing the gun.

Max's eye widened. He tried to pull the rifle from her grip. But the old woman yanked it from his grasp and threw it across the room. She then grabbed Max's shirt and pulled him close. She hissed, spraying his face with spittle, and lunged for his throat.

But Jason lunged his arm and socked the old woman in the chest. The blow knocked her off and she went spinning across the room, rolling over the remnants of the table. She was ripped off Max and he fell to the floor, gasping for air as he rubbed his throat. Jason jumped to his feet, panting.

"Jason!" Laureen cried. Jason turned to her and saw her waving outside the room, now on her feet. "Get out of there NOW!" As she spoke, the paint on the walls distorted, forming into shapes. Jason saw his own face, painted in disturbingly realistic detail, appear on the walls, frozen in a scream as the skeletal face of the old woman loomed over him.

Akihiro's voice reverberated from the walls. "Leaving? Not this time. Not yet, my dears. You won't cut my workshort again, not when the lovely terror, the pain, has only just begun to unfurl before my eager eyes. Please, Web...get them and continue to add to my canvas..."

Jason spun around, just in time to see the old woman leaping at him again. He backflipped out of the way, landing on the opposite end of the room. Tentacles of paint burst from the wall behind him and he skittered forward, barely avoiding their swipes. Akihiro giggled, sounding almost playful.

Jason screeched to a halt, the old woman landing in his path in a crouched stance. Her eyes went between him and Max, who was pushing himself up. She licked her lips as Jason tensed, watching her movements. The three of them stood still for a long moment, the only sound the wet drip of paint oozing from the walls.

She's like me, Jason realized. Enhanced reflexes, flexibility, super strength...its like looking in a mirror. If I was a psychotic old bitch.

Suddenly the sound of clicking broke the silence. The old woma (Jason guessed her name was Web from what Akihiro had called her) looked past Jason. Jason quickly looked over his shoulder. James was typing furiously on his phone, while Laureen was sucking in a breath.