Antihero (Indefinite Hiatus D: )

Chapter Eight

DeMarlo and I were both sitting in the car, neither of us speaking as the driver swerved in and out of traffic on our way to the downtown prison. It was time to do what I was born for, except this time it was an easy job. The ARC crew had managed to capture him already - all I had to do was kill him - after getting a few answers from him, that is. 

We pulled up outside the high-security prison and I stepped out, straightening my suit as I turned to look at DeMarlo. I wore a black suit today, as I did every time I worked, with a simple white button-up shirt. DeMarlo was lucky as he got to wear his usual bright attire, much like I wished I could. Alas, black was best to avoid unseemly blood stains on my favourite materials. Langley Knightly met us outside the prison, her wrinkly face and grey skin-tone matching the concrete building behind us.

"DeMarlo, good to see you," she said, reaching her hand out for a handshake. He shook it and stepped aside. He was only here as a formality since I hadn't been officially handed the reigns of the family business, but we all knew I was the one here to do the work. Langley nodded and held out her hand as well. "Michaelson, nice to finally meet you." 

I flashed a bright smile, grabbing her hand and placing a small kiss on the top of it.

"The pleasure is all mine," I said lightly, my dead eyes meeting hers; they were very much alike, mirrors reflecting our equally empty souls. She looked nervous and she darted her eyes away and cleared her throat, pulling her hand from mine. I let a small smirk slide onto my face as she gestured for us to follow her inside.

We made our way through security, the curious glances, evil glares, and nervous stares all bouncing off my confident facade. The security guards knew who we were and why we were here, and none of them wanted to get too close. As much as I liked to think we were on the same side, I knew the minute they found a way to kill them without us would be the day we were found dead in a ditch. Until then, though, they needed me - more than they would like to admit.

We weaved our way through the halls, making our way to a large, metal doorway. DeMarlo said his goodbye's, pulling Langley with him as they muttered something about current political climates. I turned to the large door and gestured for the guards to open it, both of them looking at me blankly as they did so. 

I stepped inside as we were greeted by a middle-aged man, one I hadn't met before. He was extremely tanned, his skin almost like leather, his face hardened by bad times as he looked me up and down. He raised an eyebrow, as though unimpressed, and took a step forward. He was dressed head to toe in ugly, ill-fitting army clothes, so I should be the one who looked unimpressed.

"You must be Michaelson DeMarlo," he said, reaching his hand out for a handshake. I took it and returned a firm handshake, meeting his eyes coldly. 

"The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," I said with a small smirk, not bothering to ask for his name as I stepped through the doorway and into the room. 

"Why is this a show?" I asked, eyeing the wall lined with cages, prisoners packed tightly into them like sardines. 

The man I was here to question and eliminate was sitting with his back to the cages, tied to a metal chair which was bolted to the ground. He had an electronic neck brace on, one I knew would explode if he activated his powers. The middle-aged man looked at the row of cages, the prisoners all flinching back at his gaze before he met mine again, dropping my tight grip. 

"It's a new thing we are trying," he explained, moving over to a table on the other side of the damp room. "Shock therapy. These are all unregistered advanced humans we found breaking the law. We want them to see what happens to them if they continue their bad behaviour," he spoke loudly, loud enough for all the locked up advanced humans to hear what he was saying. 

"We're hoping they will register as superheroes, as there's a shortage. Too many have been killed the last couple of months," he admitted to me, whispering now, so the prisoners wouldn't hear. I nodded slowly and looked back at the man chained to the chair.

"What did he do?" I asked, making my way over to him, walking around him in a slow circle, inspecting him as I tried to ignore the frightened stares from those locked away behind him. 

He was young, not much older than I was, his hair unruly and long as though he hadn't cut it in a few years. He lifted his head and snarled at me, baring his teeth as though he were an animal. Classic behaviour of ailing advanced humans, actually not as far developed as I had seen. I didn't flinch back, instead, I grabbed his chin roughly, making his eyes meet mine. They were crazed, the pupils flickering between being completely wide and completely dilated. 

"This is Joel Brunnings," the middle-aged man started, reading from a sheet of paper he picked up on the desk. "He's been in hiding for nearly twelve years, after first revealing his powers in school. He killed two kids and ran. We believe the first killings were accidental, but the last thirty-four have not been," he continued, looking up at me to see my reaction. I let Joel's chin go and stood up straight, Joel snapping his teeth at me roughly, before nodding for him to continue speaking.

"We managed to track him down yesterday after he left a blood trail from his latest victim. After a bit of a fight, we managed to get the neck charge on him and electrocute him until he was unconscious," he finished as he nodded to the electronic neck brace around Joel's neck. They were good at exploding, but they were also made to act like a taser, good for scenarios where the advanced humans were trying to use their superior strength against average humans. 

"So, what do you need to know?" I asked, moving towards the table, grabbing the sheet from his hand when I reached him.

"Where he hid; how he evaded us; if he knows of any other unregistered advanced humans," he replied, folding his arms and looking at me with a steely gaze. 

I ran my eyes over the sheet once more, Power: Ability to create weapons which replace his hands, before raising my eyes to meet his glare. Maybe I was lucky he couldn't activate it. 

"Are you sure you can do this?" The man asked, looking me up and down again. 

I placed the paper on the desk and let out a dark chuckle, noticing the hairs on his folded arms rose from the sound. I unbuttoned my jacket and met his eyes, knowing mine were a spitting image of DeMarlo's, my pleasant facade having disappeared as I prepared to do what I was trained to do.

"What's your name?" I asked him, folding my suit jacket neatly and placing it on the table, loosening my tie and doing the same.

"Lieutenant Andrews," he replied, eyeing me carefully. 

I unbuttoned my shirt before removing it, not wanting to get blood on the pristine white material and folded it neatly with the rest of my clothing. I was left with only a white singlet on, my tanned skin and toned arms contrasting against the white material. 

Lieutenant Andrew's eyes focussed on the scars visible across my skin - hundreds of cuts, burns, and bullet wounds - shock flashing across his face as he raised his eyes to meet mine. He flinched back slightly at the darkness they held before he uncurled his arms, letting them drop to his side. His once defiant look was now hesitant, as though he finally understood.

"Lieutenant Andrews," I said smoothly, cracking my neck side to side. "I think the question is, are you sure you can do this?" I said, unbridled hatred held in my voice as I turned and walked toward the prisoner. The two guards near the door looked nervous, worried about what was to come. I didn't blame them.

"Last chance to leave," I said to them and Lieutenant Andrews. "I don't like to be interrupted." 

They all took a moment before they steeled themselves and stayed where they were. I stopped in front of the prisoner and he lifted his head to snap his teeth at me once more. The prisoners in the cages all looked horrified, their faces showing pure, unbridled terror as they watched me. I nodded to Lieutenant Andrew and the two door guards, honouring their decision.

"Don't regret it later."

**Dedicated to @lesserknown1 for always being the first to read, vote, and comment! Thanks for being the best reader ever.**