Posts Tagged ‘Heroes’


2 days.

1 sleep.

Until vote day.

A new mayor.

A new path chosen for a city.

A split choice. Either Gordon Lived, Arch-Deacon of the Church of Killer Face, second-in-Command to the supreme church pontiff, K, and current fill-in mayor or, unbeknownst to the voter, the wife of the former Bionic Knight, Rick Saturn, mother of twins, Susan Kobwash-Saturn, fighter for the one without voice. Reason Rick released the PenDragon ring to choose another.

The other chosen who landed yesterday outside the church of organized crime. While 2/3 of the current Great Crime Fighters watched—Johnny Power and Speedster. The call went out to the 3rd member, old friend (and older opponent, first to sign her nomination papers), William “Shotgun” McKay drove his truck through the sanctuary wall with his name sake firing.

The siege had begun.

Until that truck drove through a case could have been mounted to dismantle the church.

The vote was tomorrow.

Gordon was pleading religious persecution, and that the heroes had gone rogue again.

The city was awaiting a statement from her.

Rick was making sure the kids go off to school with the nightmare the school board had made of special needs busing, his choice to step back (yes there was health reasons as well), but truly for this run to work and more so for her to win, he needed to make a choice to not be the investigative journalist, to not be the universe saving hero…he simply needed to be husband and dad, his two favourite jobs he said.

A love like crazy for a woman he has known since his first day in pre-school when the Harumphs adopted him after his family was massacred. To calm her nerves before going before the radio microphones, print reports and t.v. cameras on the steps of city hall. The steps where John had called for the heroes to unite.

On these steps, she would have a moment that could, no would decide her campaign.

The Lee Brice song, Love Like Crazy runs through her mind to keep calm. The love story, not of Guinevere and Arthur like the PenDragon legend parallels. In her mind it was more like Robin and Marian, or Lois and Clark.

“Hello, for those who may not be aware yet cause you were living under a rock I am Susan Kobwash-Saturn and I am running for Mayor. Yesterday a new hero decided to take actions into their own hands, actions that City Council has continually hamstrung our own police force from doing. The Great Crime Fighters entered the fray as back up. The goal is to bring down the Church of the Killer Face.” Susan pauses for effect. Stay focus, just in the back battling a hand tremor she sees Rick. Kids are safe to school. He had said that if McKay was right and K was back, he was the nastiest evil yet. A sadist, a Supra genetically designed to be a more prolific killer by the Nazi’s with extra additions over time. A Street Avenger had his family dismantled by the monster until he could finally stop him.

Rick shook with a bit of fear about this monster focusing on his family due to Susan’s stance. But like they always said, evil wins when the voice of love remains silent.

Today it was Susan’s turn to use her voice.

“I encourage all citizens to vote tomorrow and make their choice, between Arch-Deacon of church of the Killer Face’s vision of living in the darkness Gordon Lived and my own of living out of hope. More importantly today, I call upon our Provincial Government to end this farce that this group is a non-profit or a religion. The provincial government did the right thing and stripped these protections from the Klu Klux Klan. Premier and all parties we are calling upon you to remove this entity’s legal status and to name it for what it is. Nothing more than a sociopathic centre of organized crime, and full power given to the GCF to hold all members accountable and culpable for crimes committed under Common Law.”

Rick smiles over the shoulder of a reporter. She notices the tiny dragon peeking out from under his leather ¾ trench coat collar. Pen was with him trying to get him to hold together what was still happening. No medical staff could say yet.

“And please, whichever Deity or belief you hold dear, send thoughts, prayers and positivity to the heroes who have taken a stand to end evil that your governments failed to deliver on the Constitutional promise to all Canadians of Peace, Order and Good Governance. To my friends in the Great Crime Fighters—give the bastards hell!”

  • – – – – – – – –

Shotgun’s fist cracked another nose. He reloaded and pumped as he mule kicked someone else. Johnny Power flew through a pack. There was too many, no matter how fast the Speedster moved.

The new Bionic Knight was awkward. Untrained. But too powerful. The voice was booming. A sibling lost within the cult. Sirens still going off. Police were surrounding with guns drawn, not sure yet whom was the one they were to be looking to arrest, as what presented as a peaceful religious assemblage had been disrupted, yet it was the most badly hidden secret of the evil they had brought to the city.

Citizens had come to their aid realizing their heroes were outgunned.

S.W.A.T. was on-site with tear gas at the ready to disperse.

Sun was starting to set. Smoke from forests on fire was bathing the sky red like flame.

Sweat and blood was beginning to blind McKay, when a boom sounded.

The oak doors fell of their hinges.

Arch-Deacon Lived stood in the illumination of the stain glass holding an illegal fire arm in one hand, and a sword in the other.

The new Knight turned and looked.

The voice boomed, but there was a lilt. “Where is my baby brother?”

The Arch-Deacon smiles. “Who the fuck cares?”

“I do!” The Bionic Knight shouted and swooped towards the form.

And stopped.

The roof erupted in flames.

Lived cackled.

As K floated into the eerie night air.

The Knight’s hand goes slack and the sword clatters onto the cement walk path. McKay whirls and aims.

Power drops the two thugs.

Speedster stops short.

K’s face is wrinkled. His crow’s feet have crow’s feet.

His eyes are dark black pools.

“You are a new young pup.” A shift of the molecules. “And not yet fully powered.” The helmet through telekinesis rips apart revealing the long curly red hair of the new Bionic Knight. Her face shows the scars of a life lived fighting for survival, with the slight quiver of fear.

K cackles.

Speedster moves to run.

A pipe explodes upwards eviscerating her through the abdomen. Johnny screams for his friend.

McKay hears a cop. “Screw them being supposedly legal. Light the bastards up!” And he just hopes they are on the side of the angels for a change.

To Be Continued….

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3 days.

2 sleeps.

Until vote day.

It has been almost 18 months since Mayor John MacCurtis also known as the super powered adventurer PinBall and Bionic Archer perished under the control of the ancient alien demon known as Thor.

A vote waits for a city to choose a new identity. A new path. Years ago the heroes of old took a stand against the blood thirsty of the new and ended a siege.

Out of that siege a new religion took a foot hold, where a cult of killers were able to get sanctioned by the government and a tax exempt status. A former villain turned hero trainer with a man of Mystery entered the heart of the Church of the Killer Face…only to have the Mystery Man remember his heart of evil.

The church was renewed on its primary mission of control, death and mayhem (plus casino money as a non-profit) with their new “Pope” of the Killer Face—K, ancient Nazi killing Supra reborn into the 21st century at the helm.

As the scrutiny comes closer. As the opioid trade and sex trafficking is further traced back to the church, the youngest members of the Great Crime Fighters (okay 2/3 of the team remaining) were dispatched to keep an eye on the cathedral of doom as the police and RCMP have come to short hand it. Johnny Power pulls his duster around him a bit tighter as the rain continues. Speedster pulls the yellow hood up to cover her flaming red hair.

“Anything?” She asks.

“Worshippers in robes walking in and out. Also, Mrs. Kobwash-Saturn’s chief rival just went in wearing red suit.” Johnny Power said as he floats a bit above the wet ground.

“Red suit. High up on the council then.” Speedster said.

“Yip, Arch-deacon I believe.” Power said.

Speedster was raised a devout Anglo-Cath in the Traditional Anglican Church of Canada. She was excommunicated when she was open about her Polyamorous relationship that did not fit the oppressive structures of control. Despite that there was something about the Liturgical style of worship and study that still filled her soul and on the quietest of times of recharge she could be found tucked away in a high back pew of a Roman Catholic Church at Mass communing with how she understood the Holy Mystery.

She knew Johnny was an atheist due to Post Traumatic Church Stress Disorder (a very fundamentalist sect his parents were, and when the family was rocked by divorce their reaction drove his sister to a suicide). His anger drove him to believe that intrinsic piece of soul that needed to be filled was nothing more than a fairy tale. He could not understand her pondering about how the liturgical churches felt with such a holy terror using their terms of reference/office to structure essentially organized crime, mass murder and serial killings. Though part of her realized religions has always been co-opted throughout history by men and women, monsters in the flesh have used it for horrific agendas that could be classed as genocide (active or passive).

For all the good religion had done in Canada around things such as the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, suffrage movement, shelter systems, settlement of new Canadians, refugee aid, social justice, there was also times it was used as the Devil’s play ground with Eugenics, Sex abuse, misogyny, residential schools to name but a few.

This church Speedster looked at as the true embodiment of the Shadow of the Christianities and Religious/spiritualists of Canada if she was a Jungian. The sad part was how much the government had created mechanism for religions and non-profits to build wealth so rapidly. Wealth that was now being used in overtly predatory ways to claim lives.

“I hear the arch-deacon speaking.” Johnny said. The mayoral replacement since John MacCurtis perished to save the universe, Gordon Lived, had actively worked with council and bureaucracy to roll back police budget to units that actively dealt with sex trafficking and illegal drugs as he chose more to take the ostrich approach than the solution focus approach.

Seeing him in red, it all made sense.

“And?” Speedster said.

“Ever heard the Brother’s Osbourne song.” Johnny said.

Power was a country music fan. It had grown on Speedster in the time they had been together. “It’s not my fault ?”

“You got it.” A lightning strike just in front of the double oak doors. Johnny’s eyes go wide with the golden shimmering armoured form, sword in hand standing before the church. “He’s back?”

Speedster looks at the form. “Shotgun was meeting him toda—”

The voice was like thunder that boomed out of the armoured form. “I have come for my brother!”

To Be continued…

 


The announcement went off well. MacKay was happy to see his frenemy’s wife make the announcement while Rick was still missing. It was what happened in the square after that was shocking for that thing to have left the shadows and strike in mid-day light was not the usual scope.

If this was the United States of America the victim would’ve been described as a young co-ed. Truth is she was a first-year university student, first generation Canadian, Sheik judging from the female style turban. And eviscerated. A y-section on the chest like one would’ve used for an autopsy. MacKay flashed credentials he was impressed still worked currently of “non-officially sanctioned” heroics, but there was still respect for the old guard. Yes, the old guard that even rookies knew the story of MacKay’s crossover, during one of the major universal saves, and a well-placed shotgun blast that took out a Killer Face (numbers become irrelevant when triple digits get hit) and saved a hero’s life.

But the slashing violence of this death. The young constable is grey. MacKay wipes some sweat away from his brow, and acknowledges how naked he feels being out and about without his usual double barrel sawed off. But he checks the young man’s badge. Larpe.

“Constable Larpe. Special Agent William MacKay of G.C.F. division. This is an old murderer resurfaced.” MacKay said. He quickly flips open his phone, and hits a speed dial.

“Zed, MacKay. Get the kids together.”

The Constable is on his radio calling it in. The sirens are creating a vibration throughout the downtown core. The thunder clap means rain, and rain means that evidence will soon be washed away. But evidence is not what is needed at this point and time.

A touch on his shoulder, MacKay whirls to swing and stops short. “Bill.” Susan said.

MacKay grimaced. She had heard the scream and crossed the road like he had after the announcement. Showing why she should win at being mayor. Her eyes see the body and don’t even blink as soon first responders are everywhere. The psychic flash dances across her eyes. MacKay knows she already has seen the energy signature.

“You coming Susie?” MacKay asked.

Susan looks at her old friend. And knows what he knows. The ancient evil is back. Re-manifested as it knows the PenDragon is absent.

To Be continued…

 

 

 

 


It is very rare in the annals’ of herodom for the great hero to have a happy ending, at least in recent memory for them to ride off into the sunset victorious. Too often the stories and thrills become nihilistic deconstructions of what makes a hero, breaking them down to their brass tacks to see what their breaking point is. How much darkness, loss and grief can one hero endure before a breaking point and making a decision to cross a line they cannot come back from? An epic of operatic measure if you will, this is not one of those tales, this is a tale where heroes had ridden off into the sunset, but like Zorro or the Lone Ranger, called on once more to ride into the light to save the world.

The glass sprays outwards with slivers of blue flames. The form of Mayor John MacCurtis is seen sailing through the air.

On the roof of new City Hall, the villain of old known as Killer Face, why? Simple, in the grand tradition of usurping mythologies into the spandex crowd, his wooden mask had proved enchanted with Gorgon magic and he had used it to freeze opponents to stone while committing crimes.

Today he showed his rustiness of battle, for the black leather glove belonged to the sonic boom, a man floating above the now unconscious villain in black jeans, boots, hoody and oil slick jacket. Long flowing black hair, Johnny Power, the Superman of Canada if you will, had returned to the light.

Agent Louie Regis froze in the open sidewalk between both buildings, using his eyes trying to track the action. Power picks up the crumpled form of Killer Face and lowers himself down in front of Regis, “I will leave this with you.” He drops the villain to the ground and launches back up as the mayor is in slow motion free fall.

Johnny Power flies back towards him about to catch, but floating out of city hall, the Tri-Kinetic. MacCurtis is caught mid fall by a telekinetic burst from the villain holding him, as the air around Power begins to heat up. Tri-kinesis, the ability to be telepathic, telekinetic and pyrokinetic, it was a power perfected in the Nazi laboratories of World War II for their own super soldiers, when the Third Reich fell all believed these monsters had been lost, but the Korps as they had been dubbed survived, or at least a spattering did. They dubbed themselves “K”.

The man hovering before Power with the mayor trapped, was the last of them.

Susan Saturn, formerly Kobwash, clicks off her television and then clicks it back on. The chaos, she thought it was over when Rick retired, and they finally moved into marriage, and parenthood. But now there he was in the skies, and not alone. Three villains were back and another hero. This all started because a mass murderer who called himself a hero was murdered by a villain, tied to her husband by blood.

Rick’s eyes stare through the helmet of the Bionic Knight at his brother, the Ionic Knight bringing his mystical sword, Chivalry down towards him. Rick attempts to draw Excalibur as Chivalry slices into his chest plate, and another tactic for victory enters his mind, there was a time when the Ionic Knight stood with the angels.

“James.” It is not the voice of the Bionic Knight that speaks the name, but Rick’s own voice. For he looks into the troubled mind of his twin brother, using his mystical third eye provided by the armour and sees the dark souls battling for supremacy: Mordred as usual, but Morgan La Faye, and now, the sorcerer Gerklyn.

James and Rick Saturn the only survivors of a gangland massacre in Gothic City, AB. Their entire family wiped out by a rival faction led by a member of the Korps, these twin toddlers survived, and were separated at point of fostering. James remained in Gothic and was raised by a family that just wanted a show child, while Rick was brought to Calgary, and raised by the Harumphs, at 16 years old, both were called into the realm of Camelot.

The evil sorcerer, Gerklyn, the shadow of Merlin, spoke into James’ soul creating the Ionic Knight, while Merlin spoke into Rick’s. Two sides of a coin, twins revealing the eternal battle of good and evil, but in moments, salvation was there for James’ if he could only give up the darkness and the easy power that came with it.

The red lights dim back to James’ green eyes as he looks at his brother’s brown eyes. “Rick.”

Chivalry tastes Rick’s blood through the armour.

Lightning explodes around the buildings.

John’s fingers clench tighter around the ring he managed to grab before K arrived. He looks at Power and grins.

K looks at the floating mayor and then up at the scene of the two nights. “Today you die Mayor.”

K twirls the mayor around and drags him airborne towards him.

Louie looks at the scene, the flames in the air holding Power at bay. He tries to fire, but his gun doesn’t have the range. The lightning cascades around, as the woman stops beside him. Speedster. Dressed in bright orange running gear, her father had been the original Speedster, who had passed away from a heart attack. But she carried on in his stead, and had vanished with the others, now though she was back with her teammates.

John looks into the eyes of K, and grins. “No. Bionics on!”

Thunder rumbles! Lightning explodes out of John MacCurtis’ chest.

The Ionic Knight drops Chivalry and grips his head. The Bionic Knight touches his wound, looks at his brother, his opponent, in another life his half-sister, his bastard son, but in this life, a twin he loves but never got to know. “Sorry James.” A gauntleted fist shatters the Ionic Knight’s helmet.

Susan watches on the screen at the viciousness of the blow from her husband. His greatest fear had always been losing control in a battle with James’ of all people, and crossing the line, the line that heroes did not cross, but the slice of the sword had never drawn blood before.

The Bionic Knight looked at his reeling brother. He slowly draws Excalibur and raises it over his neck in the mid air. One stroke and it would all be over…

To Be Continued…

Next: Who are the heroes?


A Chinook had rolled through, it is a unique phenomenon to explain to those that do not experience them like happens in Calgary or Dusseldorf, it is caused by proximity to the mountains and allows for in the midst of the harsh winter climate of the prairies to leap up into the positive Celsius. It was one of these breezes blowing through downtown Calgary that was causing melting, and with it bringing out of the shadows those with nefarious thoughts, and ill will in their hearts. But gone is the fun lovingness of the late Twentieth century that saw colourful villains and four colour heroes battle it out in what amounted to a game. Gone is the fun loving feeling of life and love.

The era of the “Super Hero” or “Supra” as the Canadian Intelligence community had dubbed them, had ended, many of those gifted young adults had retired into suburbia or urban life. Taking time to raise a family, and enter into new vocational pathways. Gone from the headlines are the heroes: Bionic Knight, Speedster, Johnny Power, Street Avenger, and Zed. They have faded and a darker light has cast a shadow over the nation. Their adversaries, K, Killer Face, Ionic Knight, Shotgun McKay, and others have gone onto retirement homes as legacy heroes and villains were silenced by what the perceived public outcry of co-opted Judeo-Christian ethos in public life demanded, and that was blood.

A new line of defence arose for the citizenry. A new brand of hero that would terminate the villain, a deathly vigilante that was the juxtaposition of Canadian judiciary and life, but embraced by the public for creating the illusion of safety on the streets for the common citizen to finally feel safe as they reported. It was on these streets when the alarm sounded, and men with guns in the heart of downtown Calgary just off the train line saw five open fires on a rush hour crowd awaiting the Number 1 bus to Forest Lawn. Hooded, they cat called with glibness about redemption and hell fire for the sins of a city.

Emerging from the shadows came a newer hero, only a year old on the scene, but one that had replaced the city’s normal protector, The Bionic Knight, for the Knight had vanished many years ago. This new one, called PenDragon smiled showing dagger teeth, his cloak flapped open to reveal shadow monsters that grabbed the gun men and all that was heard was screams as sirens came on. Smart phones captured video of the new hero as steam emerged from the C-train tracks, sparks crackled in the Chinook air.

Not a sight many were used to when PenDragon would react and execute. It was new. In the centre of the street a man in shimmering silver armour with a long sword, glowing red eyes, rising up to a standing position of over six feet tall, an electrical crackle to its voice as it whispered. “Gerklyn what has this merger done.” Cellular phones snapping pictures, as older pedestrians gasped. There was recognition on their faces. PenDragon’s smile broadened as his cloak fluttered open again and he stepped from the shadows. A foe truly worthy of his power had finally arrived within the city.

PenDragon’s voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard as he speaks to the newly arrived foe. “And do I get the pleasure of your name before you die?” His shadow creatures and tentacles lash out to latch on to the new armoured form. For those watching, gasps again as the shadows latch on and drag him into the cloak. What is heard is a mechanical cackle.

PenDragon’s grin gets wider as the power of the being becomes one with him, for you see the shadows subsume the life force of those they bring into the cloak and it is this life force, like and energy vampire, that keeps PenDragon alive. One senior lowers herself onto the seat of her walker. “The Ionic Knight, but that’s impossible.”

Police cars surround PenDragon with guns drawn; EMS is helping those injured by the earlier gunfire. The new heroes may be liked (or feared) by the public, but by the governance they are seen as worse evil than that which they stop. PenDragon is floating back towards the shadows from whence he came. He stops unable to move. The cloak ruffles and what sounds like a churning stomach echoes above the calls of the Calgary Police Service, the sirens, and the sounds of the injured.

PenDragon’s feet touch the asphalt and he begins walking back towards the centre of the street as media arrives and begins filming and the talking heads begin their commentary. As in a blink shadow fragments splatter across the street and people like blood splatter, an unearthly death scream erupts as PenDragon ceases to be. The armoured figure glows red hot burning away the shadow remnants, it sheaths its broadsword and looks to the sky.

He turns to a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation camera and speaks very slowly and methodically. “This false hero is not whom I seek. This city is mine. I have returned from the void to claim my kingdom.” With that the armoured figure took flight.

An adolescent skater girl looks to the senior who had spoken earlier. “What the fuck just happened?”

The senior looks up and to the young girl. “True evil just came home, and our heroes are gone.”

To Be Continued…

Next: Who is the mysterious armoured figure? Who are the missing heroes it seeks?