Three Strikes
On a good day, Kayso was a cold son of a bitch. But this wasn’t one of those days. The light above him was causing sweat to glisten on his bald head as he jabbed his finger into his end of the table. “This guy,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “He ain’t playing by the rules. Most of my guys...if they ain’t dead, they’re on their way to it.”
The table before him was elongated and tapered to a rounded point on his end. Six figures sat to either side, all deferring to the figure on the opposite end, Kingbolt, a wide-framed man in a blue suit. The group made up the Criminal Council—the United Nations of organized crime. A table lamp sat before each seat creating an island of light in an otherwise darkened space.
“And it’s the same for all the other crews,” Kayso continued. “He came out of nowhere. Killed everybody. Just like that.”
Kingbolt clasped his large hands on the table, his lit cigar pinched between his fingers. He leaned forward, his expression bored. “And you thought this a problem for us, why?”
He licked his lips. “This guy... He don’t care what side you’re on. Hero? Villain? None of that shit matters. Everybody’s on the opposite side. Ain’t nobody gonna have a future in crime. Or heroing for that matter.”
Kingbolt glanced to the other members. “Thoughts?”
Taipan’s right eye was milky, his chair turned toward Kayso, his left elbow on the table as he slouched into it. “Who is this guy?” he asked.
Kayso glanced around nervously. “I heard... Some are calling him X.”
Taipan snorted. “I’d sooner believe it was Santa Clause. How’s a superstition killing your guys off? You sure this isn’t a management problem?”
“I didn’t say it was. It’s just what I heard.”
“X’s real,” Kingbolt said, drawing on his cigar. “Or he was. But he’s been out of the game for a couple of decades now. Whether he’s dead or alive, who can say?”
“X?” Taipan asked, his eyebrows raised. “He can’t be more than a legend. You expect me to believe someone like that actually existed? Seriously? A bunch of heroes calling in sick whenever they heard he was up to no good?”
Kingbolt didn’t respond, instead glancing over to Menace, a black suited figure in a black mask. “What do you think Menace? You two seemed something of rivals back then. Care to enlighten Taipan?”
Menace gripped his throat with white-gloved hands before his voice crackled to life through a voice modulator. “He... was indomitable. Cross him three times, then you get crossed off.”
Kingbolt arched an eyebrow.
“Smoking,” Menace answered. “That shit’ll kill you.”
“So it will,” he replied, nodding. “What are your thoughts on this X business? Think he’s still around? This seems a bit wanton from what I know of him.”
Menace nodded, then turned to Kayso. “But why now? What’s this about?”
“I could guess,” Kayso said, frowning. “It was a few weeks ago, now. We got a tip about a hero. We knew where he’d be and knew he’d be alone. So, me and my crew figured we’d put this chump down for good. We even teamed up with a few other crews to get the job done right.
“We were about to finish him off, then two other heroes showed up and it all went sideways. The fight spilled out into the streets. We could hear the cops coming and figured more heroes were on the way too. It was time to bail. So we did.”
Kingbolt grunted. “That’s hardly something to bring a legend back to life.”
“You’d think... But those other crews that helped in the ambush? All dead. The heroes that were there? They’re dead too. Bullet poisoning. Or so I hear. The slugs in my boys had X’s on ‘em.”
“That’s...concerning. Killing heroes and villains alike? That’s bad for business. This needs to be addressed, and we’ll need to move fast. Can I expect the rest of you to move on this in a hurry?”
Each member assented.
“Then, let’s bring—
Laughter.
The group looked around before orienting on Menace, who’s voice was decidedly more feminine and not at all mechanical.
Menace leaned forward, glancing around the table before fixating on Kayso. “Their half-assed job injured my boy. Collateral damage—strike one. And that injury put him in a coma—strike two. Then...I had to kill my own boy to save him from that hell.”
Taipan glanced between Menace and Kingbolt, who’s mouth hung open, his cigar hanging from his mouth. “Wait. What are we even talking abo—”
Boom!
Menace’s hand was outstretched, Taipan’s head rocking back from the shot to his good eye. She glanced to the other council members. “You offered to aid my enemy and have inherited his strikes.
Pow-pow-pow-pow!
Kayso fell backwards from his chair, then scuttled backwards, watching as the black suited figure stood, shell casings clattering to the floor. “Wait,” he yelled, raising his hand in a warding gesture. “Why are you working with that guy, Menace? Just tell me that.”
Menace chuckled, then pointed a small pistol towards his face. “Menace is dead. As is everyone else you were associated with.”
Boom!
[WP] You were once a well respected and feared villain, that is until you had a child. However, they've been caught in the crossfire of a hero fight. Now, you'll show them why you were so feared.
