The Adventures of Strengthman and Speedman I: The Story Begins

Chapter 10

     The police came and after an annoyingly long investigation, they slapped hancuffs on Villianman and Speedvillian. The three heroes stood outside with the police, and watched as Speedvillian was put into the back of a police crusier, and Villianman into an ambulance.

     "You guys might want to keep a close eye on them." Jacob said to a nearby officer. The man in blue turned toward him with a grin on his face. "Really? They are handcuffed, and one was shot. I think they are under raps. You guys just go inside and rest. That is, of course, unless you want to go to the ER?" The trio, bruised, bloody, and sore, had already refused. They wanted to stay home, and try to rest now that their nightmare was over. "No, thank you." Jacob replied. The officer turned toward the other two, who shook their head and mumbled "thank you" under their breath. Ungrateful little fuckers, huh?

     The cops didn't believe that Villianman and Speedvillian had super powers. They believed the brawl was over-hyped, and it actually kind of pissed them off. They kept preaching that the news and the media only make crazy stories for ratings, and that Villianman and Speedvillian were just normal people. Maybe a weightlifter and track runner, but nothing that can be called 'super.' That's what you get for trying so hard to keep your identity secret then go tell anyone who will listen.

     The ambulance doors shut, and the ambulance started to drive away. Jacob, Sam, and Kiera watched as it pulled away from the house and flashed it's lights, before starting to speed away. It then came to a sudden hault, and screams could be heard. Everyone stopped to watch as two paramedics flew out of the back of the ambulance, bloody and unconscious.

     Villianman, who had broken free of his handcuffs, lept out of the vehicle, and shouted "Speedvillian, get out, now!" The crusier door flew open and only a flash of a man was seen dashing towards Villianman. "HOLT! DON'T MOVE!" Shouted one brave little cop with a gun. The villians were surrounded by weapons ready to fire. With one sweeping motion, Speedvillian dashed around the cops, knocking their guns to the ground. Still in handcuffs, Villianman broke him free of his shackles, and hopped on his back. Speedvillian dashed away, though not in his usual flash, as he had to carry a large man on his back as he ran. Maybe instead of fighting, somebody should have put their energy into a diet.

     "I'm going after them!" Sam shouted, though right as he did, Jacob put a hand on his shoulder. "It's not worth it. If they are smart, they will hide. We will have time to recover. If we chased them now, we would be as good as dead." Sam, with large, frustrated eyes looked at his older brother, and nodded. "We will get them, though." Jacob said, as the cops jumped into their crusiers and sped off to find the escapees. "I promise."

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     It would be several days of healing, relaxation, and hope before they got the phone call. Jacob answered the phone, which was from a private number. "Hello?" The other line was quite for a minute, excluding shouting and hustling in the background. "Uh, yeah, is this the Jackson residence?" Said a woman on the other line. "Uh, yeah?" Jacob's confusion was clearly heard in his voice. The woman spoke again; "Well, I don't know how to tell you this..."

     When Jacob and Sam entered the hospital room, first to see Denzel, they were worried and furious. Denzel was in the bed, IV's attached to his body, and a heart monitor beeping steadily as Denzel just barely opened his eyes. Sam was the first to speak. "Are you okay?" Denzel slowly turned his head to see the two boys he raised, now looking down at him with concern. "I'm fine, I'll survive..." Denzel trailed away with his words, and Jacob spoke next. "We talked to the police. They told us what they know. Now I want to hear it from you."

     Denzel sighed, and paused as he struggled to speak. "I don't know much, but I do know this. We were just at home, like any other night, and we heard a knock at the door. Arron answered, and it was those two fucks in masks that beat you guys up. They said 'Guess who?' and just started beating the hell out of us. We tried to fight back, but it only helped so much. After awhile, they pulled out guns, and next thing I know, I'm in here being told Arron was shot in the gut and I was shot in the thighs."

     The silence that followed only served to allow the story to sink in. These creepy ass motherfuckers weren't just out for them, but their family. Their friends. They were out for blood. They were out to ruin their lives, then kill them.

     "Did you notice a bullet wound, or a limp?" Sam broke the silence. Denzel sighed before answering, seemingly trying to remember. "I think one had a limp, but I only had so much time to notice small details." "So it was them." Jacob told the obvious, as if there was any doubt.

     An awkward, unsteady, Mexican male nurse came into the room with a tray of food. It was for the patient, yet the less-than-editable chicken and plastic look corn with sour smelling milk didn't seem to appetize the usually fat-as-fuck Denzel. "We're going to check up on Arron." Jacob said, and Denzel replied with "Mmhmm." As the brothers left.

     You could see the anger bubble up inside the brothers when they checked on Arron. He was near death from the blood loss of the bullet wound in his left leg. He looked beaten to a pulp, his baby face stricken with bruises and blood, a tube up his broken nose and pumps in his arms. The heart monitor was much faster than Denzel's, as his body struggled to fuel itself.

     "This is sick." Was all that was said between the two. Sam was the one who spoke it, and Jacob sighed in agreement.

     The silence that followed was deafening. It spoke volumes as the brothers sat in chairs, watching the man that helped raise them struggle to survive. The attackers have somehow gained their superpowers, attacked them, invaded their house with the intent of murder, attacked Kiera, and now Denzel and Arron. They had some sort of personal problem with the two heroes, but they didn't know why. At this point, it didn't matter who they really were or what their issues was with Jacob and Sam, revenge was on the brain of the brothers, and they would get it.

     "They won't get away with this." A depressed Sam said as sadness switched to forceful anger. Denzel's stubbled, tired, baggy eyed - face turned toward his best friend. "You're Damn right they won't."