Chapter 37: Ozymandias
The opulent lobby of Star Tower stretches out before us, a stark contrast to the dimly lit caverns I call home. The air is thick with tension as I face Veronica Vale, her usually composed features marred by a deep frown.
"...and that's not even the worst of it," I say, my voice low and urgent. "The Big Cheese plans to use gang members infected with AIDS for the attack."
Veronica's purple eyes widen in disbelief, her perfectly manicured hand flying to her mouth. "What? No, that can't be," she stammers, shaking her head. "Why would she do such a thing?"
Dark Girl steps forward, her youthful face set in grim determination. "To incite Super Star," she explains, her voice steady despite the horrific nature of the subject. "They clearly want to provoke her into doing something drastic."
The color drains from Veronica's face, her porcelain skin taking on an almost ghostly pallor. Understanding dawns in her eyes, quickly followed by a flicker of fear. She stumbles slightly, catching herself on the edge of the reception desk.
"This is... this is beyond anything I could have imagined," Veronica whispers.
I nod gravely, my cape rustling with the movement. "We need to act quickly," I say, scanning the lobby for any signs of Luke. "Luke must be protected at all costs. If Super Star loses control..."
Veronica nods slowly, her purple eyes clouded with worry. "You're right," she says, her voice regaining some of its usual strength. "We can't risk Luke's safety. Should we just have him stay up in his room?"
I shake my head firmly. "No, that's not secure enough," I reply, my voice low and urgent. "We need to bring him to the Star Bunker."
Veronica's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "The Star Bunker? Are you sure that's necessary?"
"Absolutely," I say, my tone leaving no room for argument. "It's the safest place in the city. If we can't protect him there, we can't protect him anywhere."
Dark Girl nods in agreement, her youthful face set in a determined expression. "The Big Cheese and her cronies won't be able to touch him there," she adds.
Veronica sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. "Very well," she concedes. "Let's go get him."
We make our way to the private elevator reserved for Super Star and her closest associates.
The elevator ascends swiftly, the floor numbers ticking by at a dizzying rate. Despite the smooth ride, I can feel the tension mounting with each passing second.
With a soft chime, the elevator comes to a stop. The doors slide open, revealing a short hallway leading to a single, imposing door. The entrance to Super Star's private sanctum.
We approach the door, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Veronica raises her hand to knock, her knuckles bang sharply against the door. The sound echoes in the quiet hallway, but there's no response from within.
Frowning, I step forward and knock, harder this time. The silence that follows is deafening.
I step back from the door, a feeling of unease settling in the pit of my stomach. Veronica's purple eyes meet mine, a flicker of worry passing between us. Without a word, she pulls out her sleek smartphone and dials the front desk.
The tension in the air is palpable as we wait for an answer. Veronica's perfectly manicured nails tap an impatient rhythm against the phone's glossy surface. When the call finally connects, her voice is sharp and authoritative.
"This is Veronica Vale. I need the current location of Lucas Star, Super Star's husband. Immediately."
'Husband?' I hear it and wonder when that happened.
She falls silent, listening intently. The seconds stretch out like hours, each moment ratcheting up the tension in the hallway. Suddenly, Veronica's eyes widen in disbelief, her face contorting with a mixture of shock and rage.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE DON'T KNOW WHERE SUPER STAR'S HUSBAND IS?" she screams into the phone, her voice echoing off the walls of the narrow hallway. The outburst is so sudden and intense that Dark Girl flinches, taking an involuntary step back.
With a violent motion, Veronica ends the call, nearly throwing her phone in frustration. She takes a deep breath, visibly trying to compose herself. But as she turns to face us, I can see the fear lurking behind her eyes.
"He's gone," she says. "They don't know where he is."
The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. My mind races, considering all the possible scenarios, each one more dire than the last.
Veronica's face suddenly contorts with terror, her purple eyes going wide with a realization I can't fathom. But just as quickly, she schools her features into a mask of forced calm.
"Perhaps... perhaps he went shopping?" she suggests out of nowhere, her voice unnaturally light.
I furrow my brow, studying her carefully. "Why would you jump to that conclusion?" I ask.
Veronica shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the hallway as if searching for an escape. "I just... I have a hunch," she says, her words coming out in a rush. "You know how Luke is, always wanting to experience normal things. It wouldn't be unlike him to sneak out for a bit of retail therapy."
Her explanation sounds hollow to my ears, rehearsed almost. The tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hands, everything about her body language screams that she's hiding something. But before I can press further, Veronica straightens up, her purple eyes hardening with determination.
"Look," she says, her voice taking on an authoritative tone, "we don't have time to stand around speculating. Dark Star, you and Dark Girl need to go search the city. Start with his favorite spots.
Veronica's words tumble out in a rush, her purple eyes darting between Dark Girl and me as she lists off potential locations. "Check McDonalds, Burger King, any fast food places really. He loves that shit for some reason. And don't forget convenience stores, especially ones that sell Rice Krispie Treats. Luke has a weakness for those sugary squares."
As Veronica rattles off these intimate details about Luke's preferences, I can't help but raise an eyebrow. Her knowledge seems unusually thorough. It's as if she's been studying his every move, cataloging his likes and dislikes with meticulous care.
For a moment, I'm tempted to question her, to probe deeper into this wellspring of information she seems to possess. But the urgency of the situation presses down on us like a physical weight. Luke is out there, potentially in danger, and every second counts.
I exchange a quick glance with Dark Girl, seeing my own concerns mirrored in her eyes. But now is not the time for suspicion or interrogation. We have a mission to complete.
"Alright," I say, nodding curtly. "We'll start our search immediately."
Veronica's shoulders sag slightly with relief. "Good," she says, her voice steadying. "I'll check the security cameras, see if I can track his movements."
We step back into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft hiss. As we begin our descent, I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this situation than meets the eye. But for now, finding Luke takes precedence over unraveling the mysteries surrounding Veronica Vale.
*****
The Darkmobile tears through Boston's winding streets, its sleek black form a blur against the city backdrop. The high-tech engine purrs with power as we weave through traffic, the vehicle responding to my every touch with tight precision.
Dark Girl sits beside me, her young face set in determined concentration as she monitors the array of holographic displays floating before her.
Suddenly, a sharp beep cuts through the tense silence. Dark Girl's fingers fly across the holographic interface, bringing up a new window. Veronica's face materializes, her usually composed features tight with urgency.
"We've just received a call about suspicious activity on a rooftop in the Theater District," she reports, her voice crackling slightly through the speakers. "It could be nothing, but given the circumstances..."
"We're on it," I reply tersely, already adjusting our course. The Darkmobile responds instantly, its advanced navigation system calculating the fastest route through Boston's labyrinthine streets.
We streak past the facades of the Theater District, the ornate architecture blurring into a mesh of colors. The tires screech as we take a sharp turn, the inertial dampeners working overtime to keep us stable.
I spot our destination, a towering art deco building, its spire stretching towards the darkening sky. With practiced ease, I guide the car into a narrow alley.
"Ready?" I ask Dark Girl, my hand already on the door release.
She nods, her jaw set with determination. "Let's do this."
We emerge from the Darkmobile, our capes billowing in the cool night air. The art deco building looms before us, its intricate stonework casting eerie shadows in the dim light. I pull out my grappling gun. Dark Girl mirrors my actions, her smaller version of the tool fitting perfectly in her gloved hands.
With practiced synchronicity, we fire our grappling hooks. The reinforced cables whistle through the air, landing on the ornate gargoyles that adorn the building's facade. The mechanisms in our belts whir to life, and we're whisked upwards at breathtaking speed.
The wind whips past us as we ascend, the city below shrinking into a tapestry of twinkling lights. We navigate around jutting architectural features, our bodies moving in perfect harmony with the building's contours.
As we near the top, the sound of raucous laughter and metal clanging against metal reaches our ears. We exchange a quick glance, our eyes narrowing in determination. With a final burst of speed, we vault over the edge of the roof, landing in silent crouches.
The scene before us is chaotic. A group of thugs, their faces obscured by grotesque masks, are gathered around a massive spotlight they just turned on. Its beam cuts through the night sky, projecting Super Star's logo onto the clouds above. And there, in the center of it all, stands The Rapist. Her wild green hair whips in the wind.
"Stop right now!" I bellow, my voice carrying across the rooftop with commanding authority. "Your night is finished!"
The thugs whirl around, startled by our sudden appearance. The Rapist's painted lips curl into a sneer, her eyes glinting with malicious glee.
"Dark Girl," I say, my voice low and urgent, "disable the light."
She nods, already moving towards the massive spotlight. Her small frame belies her incredible agility and strength as she darts between the stunned goons.
I turn my attention to The Rapist and her crew, my cape spreading wide as I assume a fighting stance. "It's over," I growl, my eyes narrowing behind my mask. "Whatever you're planning ends here."
The Rapist throws her head back and laughs, the sound echoing eerily across the rooftop. "Oh, Dark Star," she cackles, "you have no idea what's coming."
*****
The massive spotlight lies dark and silent, its beam no longer piercing the night sky. Scattered around the rooftop, a dozen unconscious thugs lie bound and gagged, their masks askew.
I stand over The Rapist, my chest heaving slightly from exertion. Her wild green hair is matted with blood, her clown makeup smeared across her bruised face. Despite the brutal beating I've given her, she continues to chuckle softly.
"You know, Dark," The Rapist says, her voice raspy and strained, "your punches feel weaker lately."
I growl in frustration, grabbing the front of her tattered costume and hauling her up. "Enough," I snarl, my patience wearing thin. "Where's Luke?"
"Hmmmm, I wonder." The Rapist drawls, drawing out the sound.
Dark Girl steps forward, her small frame taut with tension. She snaps, her young voice carrying a steel edge that belies her years. "Just tell us Luke's location. We've already stopped your plan by knocking out all the would be rapists!"
The Rapist's laughter grows louder, more unhinged. Her bloodshot eyes glow with a manic light as her cackles echo across the rooftop. The sound grates against my nerves, setting my teeth on edge.
My patience, already worn thin, finally snaps. "What's so funny, Rapist?" I growl, my voice low and dangerous.
The Rapist's laughter cuts off abruptly, though her lips remain twisted in a cartoonish smile.
"Oh, Dark," she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension, "I'm not some Vaudeville Villain. Do you seriously think I'd let you catch me if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting my plan's outcome?"
"Luke's been getting raped this whole time."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I stagger back, my mind reeling as I try to process the horror of what she's saying. Dark Girl gasps beside me, her small frame trembling.
The Rapist's words hang in the air, heavy with malice. With a slight tilt of her head, she indicates somewhere behind her. My heart sinks as I follow the direction, dreading what I might see.
Dark Girl and I exchange a horrified glance before springing into action. We race across the rooftop, our capes billowing behind us as we leap from building to building. My entire being is focused on reaching Luke and stopping whatever nightmarish scene awaits us.
As we bound over the gap between two buildings, I catch a glimpse of movement in the alley below. My breath catches in my throat as the full horror of the situation comes into view.
There, illuminated by the harsh glow of a flickering streetlight, lies Luke. He's sprawled naked on the filthy ground, his body convulsing in violent spasms. Several needles protrude from his arms and neck, their contents clearly responsible for his current state.
Surrounding him is a group of women, their appearances as rough and desperate as their actions are vile. They paw at Luke's defenseless form, their faces contorted with a mixture of drug-fueled lust and cruel satisfaction. The sounds of their depraved acts echo off the narrow alley walls, a cacophony of misery that turns my stomach.
"Oh god," I whisper, the words escaping me in a horrified breath. The scene before us is worse than anything I could have imagined.