Your Neighbor, The Villain

Chapter 6 - Cigarette Smoke

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Well, at least I could afford better beer now.

Vranera and high class restaurants made up the last six days of my life, and let me tell you, they were good ones. Getting buzzed, heading out into LA, and meeting some chick in a club was really fun. But there seemed to be something missing. I wouldn't call the past week boring by any means, but the excitement and danger seemed to be missing from my life.

Another week went by without any more Calamity VS. Captain Kind fights. No Max Codham VS. Kevin Weld. And people were starting to worry, ever since I left the Museum 10 thousand dollars richer and Kevin stormed off upset.

Local news stations covered it, and Twitter was blowing up with talk of us. They were worried about Kevin for the most part, but there were some tweets about me too. The same guy who yelled, "Fuck yeah, Calamity!" in the arts museum asked if I was okay and when the next face-off would be. I couldn't respond, of course, but the concern made me happy nontheless.

I hadn't spoken to Kevin at all since the heist, save for the occasional response to his texts. After a while, he stopped texting me completely, and I hadn't made a move to get in contact. Even though I missed our fights, life was good, and I didn't want to put an end to that.

But something else did for me.

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"An' then I told him, 'well if you want the money, you're going to have to fight me first, asshole!'" I slurred, vodka and coke splashing over the rim of my cherry glass cup. The scantily clad ladies around me laughed obnoxiously loud, twirling their artificially blonde hair around their finger.

"You're so brave, Max," one of them purred, sipping out of a tall steel tumbler. I winked at her and she giggled; a fake, overused sound.

The music in the club was defeaning as the girls around me continued to chatter, the fake fog and the smell of a hundred sweaty people permeating the air. The purple and blue club lights shone through the air, silhouetting the dancers as they spun wildly. I pulled myself away from the group of noisy women and headed to the back balcony.

Opening the door, I winced as the cold air hit me, a light rose color dusting its way over my cheeks. I pulled out a pack of Camels and lit one, the small spark of fire instantly warming my fingers. The bright lights of LA twinkled below me, and I sighed contentedly as I imagined a late night heist, riding my motorcycle through the streets and screeching to a stop in front of a huge city bank. Shooting the windows out and walking in, demanding money. Making a person or two laugh. Kevin crashing through the walls to stop me, red cape billowing behind him. God, I'd forgotten how much I missed this.

I exhaled smoke into the nighttime wind, and it formed little shapes around my head. Its grey tendrils creeped around me like some sort of creature. Grinning, I threw the cigarette stub into the alleyway below me, watching it fall for a while. I pocketed my lighter and turned to go back inside, pushing open the door.

"Freeze." A sly voice yelled. I looked up in surprise. Everyone in the club was on the floor, hands above their head. The music has stopped and the lights were on, the DJ bleeding out on the floor. People were sobbing and trying to get to others that were hurt. I gasped incredulously. ...what was going on?

"Get on the floor!" The person yelled. I quickly dropped down, and trained my eyes on him in order to get a better look. He had a black and gray costume on, with green streaks lining either side. A ragged cape fell around his shoulders, ripped at the end. His eyes were full of hatred and his face was contorted into an evil grin.

And he was pointing a shotgun right at me.

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