My Collection of Short Stories

Super Opposite

A/N: This week's entry for Fancy the Fiction 2020. 

Word Count-  1452

"Are there any questions?" Dillon asked at the end of his lecture just as he would any other day at Metroton University.

It came as no shock when not a single hand lifted up. All he saw were vague stares and dropped heads, no doubt peering at their phones. Dillon sighed, feeling just as trapped in this dull routine. If only he could teach everything he knew, but it would only shock them. He knew ways to manipulate chemicals into mind-bending sets such as altering appearances, wiping someone's mind just like erasing a disk, or poisoning the entire city's water supply with only a single drop.

One by one, students began to walk out.

"Goodbye, Mr. Hale," a shaggy hair boy muttered.

"It's Dr. Hale," Dillon corrected, but he had gone out of earshot.

He shook his head, numb to giving that correction. It did not matter anyway since he only took the name, Dr. Dillon Hale, by day. Outside of this college when he put his mask on, the world knew him as Dr. Catastrophe, the villain who brought doom to Moonstone City.

"Did you see what Lady Glory did?" One of his female students asked as her groups passed by Dillon's desk. "She rescued an entire family from the top floor of a burning building, even their puppy!"

"She's so amazing," another girl agreed. "Such a great inspiration for women too."

As they left, Dillon stacked his notes on his desk, letting out a huff. He never intended alternative name, Catastrophe, or the reputation that followed. He only wanted to change his city for the better and perhaps rule it. However, Lady Glory comes, from the sky it would seem, claiming the heroic title for herself, leaving him with villainy.

His arch nemesis seemed to stalk him, even without her presence. Words of her achievements always found his ears. As he walked down the hall, he caught a glimpse of a girl, clutching a magazine with her picture. He could spot those ruby lips under her golden mask from miles away.

Dillon pressed the button for the elevator and entered the moment the doors opened. A couple students started on behind him but paused the moment their eyes met his. No one wanted to share a ride with a professor, or at least not with him.

"Wait, hold it open!"

He hesitated, taken aback, but placed his hand on the door to keep it from closing. A young girl with wavy blonde hair, pulled back in a messy ponytail joined him.

"Thanks," she panted, adjusting her book bag on her shoulder. "If I got stuck out there waiting much longer, I'd be late for class."

"We wouldn't want that," Dillon muttered.

The elevator gave a hard jolt before moving down. The girl stumbled but caught her balance. Dillon had kept his hand on the armrest, accustomed to this. He glanced up at the floor numbers. Four changed to three, but three seemed to linger on. The two stood in silence. Normally, Dillon would not mind, but this time he felt discomfort.

"You might have passed by my lecture hall, but if you haven't, I'm Professor..."

"Yes, Dr. Hale, I know," she replied with a cheeky smile. "I took your class a few years ago."

"Did you?"

With a nod, she went on, "Yes, but I ended up having to drop it."

"Oh really?" He could not recall anyone dropping his class.

She giggled. "I don't think you noticed I had gone or even there in the first place. Anyway, I'm Kristi Evans."

After briefly shaking her hand, he remarked, "I'm sorry... I've been teaching at this University for many years. Over time, it's hard to recall each face..."