Flash Fic Challenge – Murderer’s Corps
Another random title challenge random title challenge, and I came up with Murderer’s Corps. Any relation to any other super powered group is coincidental.
Cariad knew something had gone wrong when she heard a high pitched shriek that could only be Ko getting caught off guard. “Is there a situation?” she asked.
Delphi came over the comm.. “Blockhead showed up. Wasn’t he supposed to be in jail or dead or something?”
Cariad sighed. Blockhead – well, he called himself Hardhead, but somehow that was even worse – was one of those super strong guys who was also really brutal and really dumb. He gave all the super strong blockheads a bad name.
“I’ll fry the son of a bitch.” Tomas said, with his usual homicidal enthusiasm.
“Do not engage,” Lyra said firmly. “Leave him for Piledriver.”
“I still say that name sounds like some kind of hemorrhoid based torture device,” Tomas said.
“No one picks their code name,” Delphi said. “We’re not kindergarteners playing games.”
“Hey, that rhymes,” Lyra noted. She was roundly ignored.
“People, we are on the clock, get moving.” Delphi insisted.
Cariad continued down the upper corridor of the Marchand Insurance Building, or whatever the hell it was called now. Basically it was a big, ugly building holding secret amounts of grotesque wealth, gained through pharmaceutical trade that was technically legal, but still really disgusting. And a whole bunch of lunkheads decided they couldn’t just rob the place, but had to hurt the minimum wage slaves who took care of the building and never saw a dime of this semi-ill gotten gains. That’s when they had to get involved. They weren’t exactly heroes, but they weren’t heartless either.
She took the first lift down, as something made the building rumble and shake, like it was a dog trying to shake off a flea. “Blockhead?” Cariad guessed.
“Tripped over his own feet,” Lyra said.
“While charging like a fucking freight train,” Tomas added. “The guy would be dangerous if he knew what he was doing.”
“Lucky for us he’s an idiot,” Delphi said.
Most of the people attacking this place – and they went by the catchy name of the Destroyers – weren’t exactly geniuses, but they could be super dangerous, especially since they didn’t care who got in the way. People were insects at best to them, and they’d left quite a body count in their wake. It wasn’t that Cariad didn’t understand super-powered chauvinism, because she totally did, but ultimately she thought it was stupid. After all, didn’t they all have normal parents and siblings? So far, no one was born a super – it was usually just bad (or good) luck.
When the lift doors opened on the wide, Palazzo tiled lobby, she saw the battles that were still ongoing. It looked like most of the Destroyers were down (as well as a few civilians at the periphery), along with her team’s Ko and Greaves, but Blockhead was still bedeviling Tomas and Lyra. Tomas was attempting to roast him with his red hot flames (it had only succeeded in burning off his shirt), while Lyra was flying up out of his reach, peppering him with shots from her crossbow. Some of the arrows managed to penetrate his thick hide and stick, but not deeply – it made him look a bit like a bipedal porcupine.
Blockhead was seven feet of bad news and dense musculature, with his shoulders as wide across as a refrigerator, and his arms as thick as steel cables. His head also looked big and kind of squarish, so Blockhead was more apt than he would ever know.
“Ooh, you’re in trouble now,” Tomas said, backing off. Lyra flew back as well, her energy wings a colorful blur behind her.
As she stepped out of the lift, Blockhead started laughing. “This? This little girl is your secret weapon?” He was laughing so hard it sounded like he was in danger of pulling something.
She knew how she looked. Small and kind of dumpy, and young enough that she still got carded when she went to bars. But that was the universe’s greatest joke, wasn’t it?
Cariad knelt down, pulled back her fist, and punched the floor.
The tiles cracked down the middle, making a huge fissure that caught Blockhead off guard, and made him fall on his ginormous ass. The ground trembled like she’d just felled a tree. “I know I don’t look like much,” she said, walking over to him. Close up, his head was even more massive than it appeared farther away. How did his neck not break under the weight of that humungous melon? “But I have another parlor trick up my sleeve.” She stripped off one of her gloves, and touched his temple. “Tactile extreme combustion.”
He looked deeply confused, and he looked like he was still trying to figure out what that meant when she stepped back, and his head exploded like a pumpkin full of gunpowder. She’d been able to direct most of the explosion up and back, so she didn’t get too covered in gore.
“Now that’s a piledriver,” Tomas said.
She sighed. Cariad really wanted another code name, but she couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be.