Chapter Eight: My 8th Encounter with the Golden Speedster

Chapter Eight

My Eighth Encounter with the Golden Speedster

His real name is Will Simms.  If you get to find out my secret identity, you get to find out his too.  So, there it is.  Will Simms is the Golden Speedster.  Such a tool.  He never knew that he was only ever a puppet; his strings, pulled, and he danced.  Manipulated by powers he didn’t even know existed.  Now, I do feel a lot of sympathy for the guy.  He never had a chance.  But, back then, on that morning in May in Philadelphia, I hated him.

Hatred is a weird thing.  It drives a person to do insane things.  It drives people to murder, and a society to fascism and destruction.  It’s a big problem.  But on this morning, as I ran straight up the side of the Comcast Center Building, chasing that golden fucker, I hated him with all my soul.  I had him on the run this time, and he knew it.

We ran all over the city.  I don’t know if the people of Philadelphia were getting used to our epic battles or not.  One minute they were all busy going about their business, and the next everything shook, and an electrical storm took hold of their city, springing up instantaneously, with incessant sonic booms punctuating our clash.  Why did people even stay in that city?  I mean the devastation that we dished out in our battles was significant.  Very significant.  But, you know, where would they go?  Platinum Man and his enemies were even worse in the Big Apple.  Chicago had Zorro and the Prankster, and that whole rogue’s gallery.  Most cities had their heroes and villains fighting, turning the lives of their citizens on their heads at unexpected times.  It had become just another fact of modern life.

Not that the Golden Speedster and I didn’t have battles that covered the whole East Coast, of course, sometimes, the world; but Will lived in Philly, and I was always going there to fuck with him.  That was the gig.

On Broad Street, I threw a SEPTA bus at him.  He had to save those people.  Or try to.  While he attempted to do so, I hit him with so many punches he puked so hard and fast his vomit took out a trash truck.  He went down.  The bus crashed into City Hall, and man, was there a boom.  The papers said I had killed 43 people in an instant.  I was a murderer.  The was some considerable mystery later about how most of those people, some of whom had been in morgues, got on that particular bus, and how it was that the driver and 12 people who claimed to have been on that bus ended up in a diner in Conshohocken.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Seven: First Interview with the Inboard Super Suit AI

Chapter Seven

First Interview with the Inboard Super Suit AI

  

“Your name is Alexander Donkers.  You are known by the name Dr. Velocity or, more commonly, the Dark Runner. You were born in the year 2010, in Baltimore, Maryland.”

The voice came from speakers inside the suit next to my ears.  It was a simulated woman’s voice, almost human, but with that unmistakable hint of synthetic inhumanity.

“2010? Wait.  What year is this?”

“It is 2022.”

“Um, then I’m…twelve?”

“You are thirty-eight years old in biological years.  You have time traveled back to 2022 from the year 2148.”

“Why?”

“In order to battle your arch-rival, the Golden-Speedster.”

“Why can’t I remember anything? And Who are you?”

“I am your suit’s Inboard Automated Assistant.  I’m an AI. You can call me Clarity.  As to why you cannot remember anything, I am not certain.  I am analyzing that data now.  Most likely, it is a temporary side-effect from an adverse Velocity Field interaction.”

“So, wait, you’re saying…that I’m a supervillain?”

“You are a founding member of the Secret Society of Supervillains.”

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Six: The First Iteration

Chapter Six

The First Iteration

The first iteration is always lost forever.  In stories where time travel plays a part, the first run through of events is often erased and replaced with a time loop.  Sometimes we get to see the first iteration in movie or novels, sometimes we don’t.  It is the initial condition of the timeline that must have existed for the future to have existed in order to mess everything up.   But once the hero and villain do their jobs, by the end of the story that’s gone, replaced by events from the future (relatively speaking).  When I’m in a philosophical mood, I wonder about how the universe was created in that first iteration, if there even was one.  Was there some sort of God that go around?  If so, was God then removed from the whole damn equation once the time loop started?  Or maybe things have always been like this, just spinning out of control in great loops of time, seeing to it that they are created, so that they can create everything else.  Destiny’s self-creating banquet had to come from somewhere didn’t it?  Is it all just turtles all the way down?

Maybe that’s the whole damnation of it all.  Just the future fucking the past, over and over, for all eternity.  Nothing else.  Just that.  A Predestination well.  

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Five: In Which I Form the Secret Society of Supervillains

Chapter Five

In Which I Form the Secret Society of Supervillains

The dolphin had a point.  There’s was no getting around it.  The billionaire exo-xenophobe (exophobe?) with an unhealthy obsession with the Platinum Man, wasn’t entirely convinced, but he was almost there.  The Prankster was just terrifying, and he was in, no matter the plan was, the crazier the better for him.  The Sorceress and Hocus Pocus were just happy to be invited.  Psychonaut was dead set against the whole idea.  He was going to take some convincing.  That’s where my work was.

“We have some serious financial backers in this endeavor,” I pointed out.  “All the big players from Silicon Valley, the oil guys, the cartels, the Vatican.  There’s crazy money in this, that’s for sure.  I think Admiral Nemo’s plan is smart, direct, and will work.”

I didn’t know it at the time, but it wasn’t Admiral Nemo’s (the dolphin’s) plan after all, it was someone else’s, even smarter.  Which is saying something, as Admiral Nemo was largely considered the smartest mammal on the planet.  Super-genius intellect.  But there he was, with me, tricked, manipulated, and threatened into starting this thing.  The thing.  What everything was always about.

“I don’t see how this will help me stop the Platinum Man, frankly.  And that alien must be stopped,” Anton Smirsk, the Russian billionaire finally said flatly.

“Then you’re not thinking it through, my friend,” I replied.  “I feel like you should trust me on this, as, I know how all of this works out.  I’m from the future, after all.  To me,” I said, now addressing the two strong holdouts as much as the exophobe, “this is all decided.  We do this.  It’s a done deal.  It’s how we win. They have the Hero Guild.  If we don’t do this, in two years, you’re all in prison, or dead otherwise.  But suit yourself.  I’ve already seen every possibility”

Success in the future is a powerful argument.

“Nicely done,” Admiral Nemo whispered telepathically to me.

Psychonaut hissed his question, “You have seen our success in the future?”

He was looking at me intently.  I pulled the mask off my face, so everyone could look me in the eye and see the truth of my words there.  That’s all it took for my lie to sell to these suckers.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Four: I Smoke Too Much Pot

Chapter Four

I smoke too much pot

I smoke too much pot.  You would too.

It’s Jill and Jackie’s fault, really.  My share of the rent, for which I receive use of the aforementioned small couch and laptop, fridge space, toilet and shower privileges and the occasional home-cooked meal; is that I obtain (read steal) pot, groceries, beer, and delivery food.  Anyway, it helps with all the time travel bullshit I have to deal with every damn day.  For a few moments I have glorious peace.  I would be a fraction of a second for you, but for me, it’s a long time.  My system processes it super-fast, but still, those moments are worth it.   Peace.  Clarity.  Vision.  Calmness.  The madness fades just a little bit.  The guilt gnaws just a little less, and for that moment, mere Planck units long, I’m just me.  The fog clears and I see things clearly.

I’m always trying to retain that feeling.  So, I smoke a lot of pot.  Good stuff.  I rob from every dealer and dispensary, anywhere in the world, at anytime I like.  I get it all. Platinum Girl Scout Cookies.  Trainwreck, Alaskan Thunderfuck, Pineapple Express, Cherry Pie, Tardis, Jelly Sherbert, Durbin Poison, OG Master Kush.  You get the idea.

So, there’s that.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Three: My Super Villain Suit

Chapter Three

My Super Villain Suit

My speedster suit is exactly like golden boy’s suit, except color.  His is a brilliant gold that just dazzles the eye.  Mine is a deep black, the color of the void, like a shadow.  The suit with built-in mask completely conceals my face, unlike in the comic book versions you may have seen.  There are no eye holes either, we can see through the fabric easily enough.  It gives us the look of statues almost.  The fabric is designed to withstand the friction of a speedster’s speed, however that is rarely a concern, due to the Velocity Field, which provides a sort of quantum buffer to the effects a speedster has on the world around them and vice versa.  Still there are times when friction resistance is useful, so most speedsters wear these types of suits.  Also, and interesting fact:  the fabric was designed for protection in interdimensional travel, which is the main reason modern speedsters such as me, Golden Speedster, Young Golden Speedster, Golden Speedster Mk II, Synapse, and Blinding Speed, use it as our super suit today.

Like the suit the matching black boots were designed by Red Dwarf Laboratories in Philadelphia for use by the Golden Speedster, though his, are, of course, gold, like a mummer in the Fancy Brigades in a New Year’s Day parade down Broad Street.  They provide excellent traction and maneuverability.  I can’t stress enough the importance of traction when you’re running several times the speed of sound at a light jog.

I understand my counterpart’s suit had a built-in comm system that allowed his team back at Red Dwarf Labs to monitor him and offer helpful advice.  My suits comm system has a built-in interface with a super-intelligent AI, who offers me unbeatably helpful advice, as it’s based on observations of future outcomes.  So, that one is a win for me, I think.  The origin of this super-intelligent AI is another excellent story, with a fascinating little twist, which we’ll get to later.  So, hang in there, it will all be worth the wait.  We have so many things to talk about:  mad men, both super-intelligent AI and super-intelligent, telepathic dolphins, a war between superheroes and supervillains, the origins and end of the multiverse, good and evil, time travel, impossible people, fan service, and a story about crippling guilt and bottomless remorse.  All this and more.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter Two: My Secret Supervillain Lair

Chapter Two

My Secret Supervillain Lair

I live in a small, one-bedroom apartment in the South Park neighborhood of Albany, not too far from Washington Park, with two trans women.  They get the bedroom.  I sleep on the couch.  It’s not a very big couch, which kind of sucks, but I get by.  They have a big (fifteen-year-old) tv, Netflix, Hulu, and a Switch, so, it’s not too bad.  They’re letting me stay here until I can find my own place.

The other guy?  The hero?  He has a nice apartment in Philly, in Society Hill, furnished to the hilt.  You should see it.  The curtains he has are amazing.  Fancy art on the walls.  The works.

We have a couch, the tv, a coffee table fetched from the curb on trash night, a table in the kitchen, a small bookshelf, and folding chairs.

He has a sectional.  It’s not fair.  But it never was.  It couldn’t be fair.  That was the whole point. He has a billion-dollar laboratory with state of the art this and that, with an entire wing set up just to help him, with a staff of brilliant scientific minds all devoted to solving his every problem.  I have a laptop on the kitchen table that I can borrow if no one else is using it, and a know-it-all who wrote a couple of sci-fi novels and used to be in a rock band, and her gamer girlfriend.

Obviously, I’m going to need you to keep this between us.  I mean, that’s obvious, right?   Our secret, just like the rest of what I’m about to tell you.

Oh, here are my roommates handing me ten bucks and asking me to go get them ice cream cones.  One of the perks of living with a speedster.  I’ve got to dash.  Be back in a flash.




(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Chapter One: What Happened After the Battle of Washington Park

Chapter One:

What Happened After the Battle of Washington Park

“Help me with him”

I was disoriented and foggy headed.  There were a lot of flowers right around my head.  I was lifted unevenly off the ground.  Two people, probably.  There was a statue on a mound of rocks.  Was that Moses?  Water running.  A fountain.

“Careful with him.” A woman’s voice, husky.

“We should call 911.” Another woman.

“We can’t call 911.  Do you see what he’s wearing?”

“That’s why we should call 911.”

I was moved a few feet, carried by two women.  I couldn’t move on my own.  I was barely conscious.

“He just saved our lives, Jackie.  Just help me with him.  It’s just across the street.”

“Are you crazy, he’s a fucking supervillain.”

“Maybe. All that I know is that if it weren’t for him, we’d be dead right now.  So…”

The smell of chrysanthemums hit me.  I noticed Moses was oxidized copper-green and standing atop a pile of rocks that was the fountain.  Other statues were arranged around the rocks and appeared to be drinking water from the fountain.  Must have been from some Biblical story I never heard.  Probably from when Moses led his people into the desert to escape Pharaoh’s wrath.  They got thirsty and Moses magicked up some water, I’m guessing.  Something like that.

I was being dragged through a formal garden.  Things were in disarray, trees uprooted, and park benches overturned.  Leaves and branches everywhere.  Not that far away a giant, old tree was down.  A streetlight poked through its branches and foliage.  The tree must have been about two, three hundred years old.  There was a charge in the air, like after a lightning storm.  It was cool out.  The flowers in the garden plots where I was lifted from looked tired, like they had been doing their flower blooming thing since spring, and they didn’t have much left in the tank.  I knew how they felt.  My muscles wouldn’t respond to my commands.  All I could do was limply comply with the people dragging me along.  I didn’t know where I was, why I was there, or where I was going.  If I thought about it, and I didn’t, I didn’t know who I was either.  We’ll get to that soon.

I fell unconscious again.

When I finally woke, I was on a small couch in strange apartment.  Still couldn’t move.

“He’s awake.  He better not try to kill us.”

“Why would you think I would kill you?”  I asked.  I could talk now apparently, but the rest of my muscles refused to move.

A surprised voice answered, “Because, you’re you know…a supervillain.”

A supervillain?  Is that what I was?  As I heard this, I realized I had no idea who or what I was.  I knew nothing about myself.

“I’m pretty sure, I’m not a supervillain,” I replied, honestly.

“Then why are you dressed like the Dark Runner, Dr. Velocity, or whatever?  Why were you fighting the Golden Speedster?”

“I don’t know.”

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Illustration of Doctor Velocity by Octavia Wright

(c) Copyright 2019 Octavia Wright
used by permission
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Chapter Zero: Introductions and Greetings!

Chapter Zero:

Introductions 
and Greetings!

Call me Doctor Velocity.  Forget what you’ve heard about me.  Most of it’s lies, propaganda by the other side.  The other guy has his people telling his version of the story, and everybody laps it right up. He’s a superhero after all.  I get it.  He’s the freaking Golden Speedster.  A founding member of the Hero’s Guild. He’s on the news every night saving somebody. There’s a museum in downtown Philadelphia in his honor.  I know.  I just figured it’s about time you got to hear my side of the story.

I’m the guy that’s faster than “The World’s Fastest Man.”  People gloss over that, and, frankly, it pisses me off.  I feel like I should be as honest as possible here.  So, that’s one of my peeves.  “World’s Fastest Man,” please.  I know at least three speedsters faster than him.  And he knows them too! Okay, sorry if that seems petty, it just bothers me, that’s all.  Every time he’s ever caught me, I let him.  Every, freaking, time.

Really, I’m falling.  That’s the essence of the whole story.  It may seem like I possess incredible speed to you, but really, I’m just falling.

Sometimes, I tell myself I had a chance to do things differently, but I know better.  It boils down to one thing.  A kind of gravity.  The gravity of becoming.  Once we’re born, we just fall into the holes of our lives.  No decision matters or changes our destinies.  I know that better than anyone.

I fall in a different way than most people.  I’ve fallen into a different kind of well, that some people call the Velocity Field.  And since I’ve fallen into this well, and this is true for the several other people who are similarly afflicted (or blessed) with this gift (or curse) called speed.

You probably know me by the name the media gave me, the Dark Runner, and that’s cool.  I’ve come to terms with it. Though, I wish Speed Demon or Doctor Velocity had stuck but, what are you going do?  Doctor Velocity though. That’s my preference. But, what’s in a name?  I used to have a different name, but I changed it to make a man kill himself, so I could take his girlfriend. That’s a story for later.  Also, I changed my name to keep my secrets.  A super-villain has got to be allowed to keep some secrets.  It’s only fair.  And that one secret is a big one.  Enough to drive a couple of people mad, in fact.  I would know, I’m one of those people.  But, okay.  Forget about that for now.  We’ll get there, I promise.

A lot of people think I’m from the distant future.  2158 or some shit.  I may have told some people that myself.  But, really think about it.  The distant future?  That’s ridiculous.   Like humanity is going to survive until 2158.

Sorry, spoilers.  Forget that.  I’m sure we’ll work out all the problems our species has, and people will live in a utopia then.  Sure.  I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, honestly.  That kind of shit can drive you crazy.  Anyway, I’m not exactly from the future in the sense you’re thinking.  But we’ll get to that too.

Let’s start at the beginning.  Kinda.

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt

Title Page

Confessions of a Super-villain

The Adventures of Doctor Velocity

a novel in blog form

with New Chapters Published Weekly

(on Tuesdays and sometimes more often)

by

Diana Hignutt

(c) Copyright 2019 Diana Hignutt