Blog of a Teenage Superhero

Upside Down: an Ashes x BOATS crossover

LNBCreates is currently writing a really cool story with the BOATS/POATS characters that crosses universes with their book, 'Ashes.' I was so excited when I heard about it and I truly think it's a dark, unique, and awesome take on the BOATS characters and world. Though it starts directly after Podcast of a Teenage Supervillain, I think it gives enough context that it could be enjoyed after the first BOATS book, if so desired.

Below is the synopsis and first chapter! Check out @LNBCreates and their story here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/335514027-upside-down-a-boats-x-ashes-novel

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DISCLAIMER: THIS BOOK TAKES PLACE AFTER "PODCAST OF A TEENAGE SUPER-VILLAIN" (https://www.wattpad.com/story/144565486-podcast-of-a-teenage-super-villian), AND RIGHT AFTER PART 1 OF "ASHES" (https://www.wattpad.com/story/325760135-ashes-wip). This doesn't follow the aforementioned stories, rather, this is more like an "alternate reality" kind of story!

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Masquerade is on the run. Again. He's escaped prison with nothing but the clothes on his back... and a plan. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't let go of the past that haunts him. He only has one reason to live now: To become human again. But to do that, he has to make sacrifices he might not have the courage to make. August Cole's life went downhill the moment she met Steven Harding. She's paying the price of her past crimes in a small cell, never seeing the light of day, never seeing the stars again. But when an opportunity arises in the form of a floating teenager in a white mask, she realizes she has another chance to finish what she started nineteen years ago- and maybe even redeem herself. The two are completely different in every way possible, but both have the same mindset: A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

***

I don't know where to start. I really don't.

In the past few months, I've beaten up the guy I practically called my brother, betrayed my best friends, almost killed my ex (who then proceeded to punch the living daylights out of me), sucked the power out of several well-known, loved, respected supers (including my best friend's mom), got disowned by my father, watched my ex take several bullets for me, started a friendship with a guy only to break it not even a week later, and failed a job- the only job I was given, mind you- that a cult- you heard me right, a cult- gave me. And oh, yeah, almost forgot, I broke out of prison. Can't miss that one.

You think your little period cramps hurt? Welcome to my world.

And as I sit in the corner of my cramped cell, glowing red rope tied around my wrists, I conclude: Yeah, I need to start over.

I release a small, breathless laugh. I'm a villain. I can't "start over". I'm bad, the good guys locked me up in jail, I'm done, and they'll probably pull some rehab magic on me. There's no such thing as "starting over", right?

Right?

If I can't start over, I'll keep going. I'll escape, keep harvesting, and even risk going back to jail, just so I can become human. Lucky for me, I already have a plan. Leave it to the former student council president to be quick on his feet.

I clear my throat. The guards turn to me. I wait a few more seconds, then make a gagging sound and hunch over. I shake my head as if to clear my thoughts, then lean back against the wall and close my eyes.

The guards seem alert now. One of them points his rifle at me. They stay silent.

I keep up my act for another few minutes, gagging twice more as the guards continue to watch me. Then, without warning, I pretend to dry heave, then burst into a fit of coughs.

The guards look at each other. For the first time, I see an uncertain light come into their eyes.

"What's wrong?" one of them snaps at me. It's the one with the cocked rifle. I don't answer him. I pretend to concentrate too hard on holding back another heave.

Another guard glances at him. "Maybe he's sick."

"That's nonsense. The doctors checked him already."

The guard shakes his head. "I dunno, maybe he's sick again? Let's take him to a doctor, just in case. Don't want infected inmates around," he mutters, shooting me a disgusted glance. I resist the urge to slam into the bars. I gag again, trying to turn away from the guards as I do it, so they think I don't want their attention. I heave and spit on the floor.

The guards hesitate. Finally, the one with the cocked rifle nods at the guard standing next to him. "Well, I don't want to stick around in here if it is some weird flu or something. Call for a bio team. Let's have him brought to the medical ward cells." The other guard nods, then I hear the metal grates screech open.

I pretend not to notice his approach, so busy am I with my gagging and coughing. "Get up." He grabs one of my bound arms and pulls me roughly to my feet. Suddenly I twist, and for a split second, his hand is freed from my arm. Before he can react, I whirl, yank the gun out of his holster, and point it straight at him, hands still bound. The other two guards fix their rifles on me but don't fire. They can't do it without hitting the first soldier.

"Give me a knife."

"I-"

"A knife," I say, pressing the barrel of the gun to his head. "Now."

He slowly reaches into a fold in his pants leg and pulls one out. A short pocketknife, military-issued. I take the knife in one hand, careful to keep the gun pointed at his head, and start to saw the rope. It comes free with a satisfying snap.

I feel my power flooding back into my body. I grin at the looks on the guards' faces, and shoot straight up into the air, bursting clean through the roof. The sky and the stars come into full view, and I zoom through the skies, a fusillade of gunfire blasting in the distance.

It feels good to be free again, I think. Even though it's only been two days.

What now, though?

I've escaped. That's done. Where do I go now? What should I do?

Ah, right! I'm supposed to finish the job. You know, get people to give up their powers so I can give mine up, therefore making me normal. Like I've wanted to be all my life.

As far as I'm concerned, I'm still with Everyman. Nothing's happened that makes me turn my back on them, right? I set my internal compass to head back to Starlight City, where I can most probably find them at the address I found them at before.

-

"You're foolish to come back here."

"Yeah, I know," I say to the pitch-black nothingness surrounding me. It feels unsettling, even when I knew what to expect. "But I can still help! I'm a valuable asset. I know what I'm doing." I hope.

"You didn't manage to do anything last time but get caught," the cool, low voice says,

"Just tell me what you need to be done," I say, trying not to sound pleading, "and I'll do it."

A pause. "How can we trust you?"

"When have I ever betrayed you?" I respond.

A longer pause, then the voice speaks again. "We need the president dead. Can you do that, boy?"

I freeze. That's impossible. I don't know how I'll be able to do this. Trying to hide my uncertainty I reply, "I'll need details on his security."

"We'll give you that in a more secure location. Do it, and you're with us."

"Like, officially?"

I almost feel the voice hesitate. "Yes."

The corners of my mouth curl upwards. "Consider it done."