Super

14. purple chart paper

Mark stepped through the threshold of his house as quietly as he could, glancing around the house furtively before he entered. The place was dark and quiet—as expected from a normal household at two in the morning—and the only sound in the place was soft snoring that emanated from one of the rooms.

The door closed behind him soundlessly. He sighed quietly, hoisting his slipping backpack up his shoulder and walked into the room. Pulling open the refrigerator door, he grabbed a bottle of water—one of the translucent ones that were made of colored plastic—and switched on the flashlight of his phone before placing the bottle over the light to dim it.

I'm a cool science guy, he thought to himself, smiling proudly as he used the flashlight-bottle contraption to see his way around the living room without making it too bright. Taemin wants me because I'm smart.

The words were partly to give himself a boost after a long day, but also because he was a little bit scared. Coming home after facing evil black-haired women from The Conspirator was tiring and scary in equal parts, and Mark wasn't accustomed to being in situations like these. In his defense, not a lot of people were.

The door creaked behind him.

Mark jumped about three feet high, almost letting loose a high-pitched scream he often heard during horror movies. He whipped around to see the door closed. No, wait. He narrowed his eyes, moving closer despite his reluctance, and realized that the door was open, even if it was just a crack.

He sucked in his breath, feeling his already wild pulse accelerate even further. The night air was calm and cool, but there was already perspiration gathering on his forehead. He wiped the back of his hand against his brow, blinking rapidly to get rid of his drowsiness, and quickly unzipped the bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out the first thing he could get his hands on, which turned out to be a laminated mission report file. He grimaced, rummaging around inside it to look for something else, but his only other options were a smoke bomb and a piece of apple pie wrapped in tinfoil.

Great, he thought feverishly, letting the bag drop to the floor with a soft thunk. What if the evil lady had come to get him? Maybe it was the pale dude Ten had talked about. Mark wondered what kind of powers they might have, or if they would just have liked to finish him the old-fashioned way.

He wanted to call for backup, but his phone was out of money. We need emergency comm devices, he thought, distractedly filing the thought away for later perusal.

Mark would have called out, but his grandmother was asleep, and there was no one else around him who may have been able to help. His neighbor was just as creepy as a supervillain, anyway, and might actually sell him out.

On the verge of crying, Mark walked towards the door, the rolled-up file gripped tightly in his hand. He used the tips of his fingers to pull open the door, only to find the walkway empty. He frowned, straightening, but didn't let his guard down as he moved out into the open.

Something crinkled under his foot.

He lifted his foot, and found himself looking down at a piece of purple chart paper. Slowly, he bent to retrieve it. His knee joints creaked as he got to his feet, stomach turning as he read the contents of the paper.

There, contrasting with the bubbly purple of the paper, a single sentence was written on with glittery ink.

I spy with my little eye, a naughty boy.

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"You never really told me why the parking lot was burning when you found me," Kai mused aloud as he looked at Taemin, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do I have fire powers?"