The Original Chronicles of the Nightshade

Requiem

The clock was louder today. Counting down every second with each sharp, tick, tick, tick. Normally, it irritated her. But her attention was wholly focused. Nightshade stared at her spoils from the previous day, scattered across the table, frowning at its contents. The various devices and scrap pieces of metal made her wonder what you could possibly build out of any of this.

What really caught her eye was the crumpled draft pamphlet of an event. The 25th Annual Heroes’ Banquet was scrawled across the top of the paper. A list of heroes, both big and small were listed as honorary guests. A program order and handwritten notes scrawled in blue pen, decorating the back of it with a list of awards and in big letters “Victor wants perfection” underneath the fifth item on the list. The pamphlet sat on top of three different devices, long and metal, each with its own label: Hallway 7, Center Stage, Chandelier. Each one had a screen that was dark and blank and a number pad that had 10 numbers on it. Nightshade recognized it as a code, but she didn’t dare try to figure out what it was. Who knows what this was. She wasn’t too keen on discovering another bomb.

She pushed all of it aside and opened up the binder. A blueprint for a building she had never dared to step foot in. Payne Tower in block font on all of them. Three x’s scattered across the maps. She stared at them, biting at a single, elongated black claw on her index finger that she hadn’t figured out how to retract.

What was Crimson planning to do here? Just blow it up? Seemed unreasonable, and even reckless. Belle said something about villains being nothing without heroes and vice versa. Why blow up all the heroes?

The binder suddenly rose to the air as a familiar scarlet energy crackled over it. Nightshade’s head snapped up as the young villain watched it start to float over the Belle who was in the process of making bread. A rare vision of Belle working.

“What on Earth is this?” She asked.

Nightshade snatched it from the air and Belle rose an eyebrow. “Stole it off Dark Crimson. Stole it fair and square.”

“Ah, your little achievement.” Belle looked back down, pressing her thumbs into the dough. “And what is his traditionally unrealistic plan?”

“I don’t know. Something about the Banquet on Sunday.” Nightshade tilted her head at the papers. “I think these are bombs and then they were going to be placed all over Payne Tower. He’d just blow them up and kill all the supers, I guess.”

“And why do you figure that?”

Nightshade shrugged. “Stuff with codes and screens usually are dangerous if they’re not on doors or locks. Crimson seems crazy enough to do something like that.”

There was a long beat of silence as the clock turned and the dough was mashed against the countertop. “And what do you plan to do with this?”

“I don’t know.” Nightshade shrugged again as her face started to curl into a smile. “Maybe I’ll do it myself. Steal his idea.”

“Oh, child.” The older woman let out a sharp chuckle that was neither joyful nor welcome. “Understand that this happens every year.” She continued to knead the bread, her hands glowing ever so slightly in its red hue. “Some overzealous villain tries to upset this honorary banquet like a committee of vultures trying to prey on hawks. A cry for attention before they simply silence them.”

Nightshade found herself grinning bigger as she thought about the look on all of their faces when she showed up to their perfect banquet. “Then it’s perfect.”

Belle looked at her skeptically, red eyes brimming with disappointment. “You are meant for something greater things than this. Not an event for third-rate villains.”