Because it Feels Good! - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3 - Military Compound

“So let me get this straight, yesterday you send me to the hospital, then make me travel all the way to New York to clean up a mess you and your friend made. And now today, you’re dropping some loud broad at my headquarters right as I get back from an overnight flight?” The Pylon asked, grumbling as he crossed his arms, avoiding eye contact.

“You calling me loud, shorty?” Brooke sniped back. Even with her thoroughly fatigued from yesterday, she still had some bark left in her. “I don’t know too many quiet lawyers that get very far.”

“What he means to say is,” Beast Mode interjected. “We’d be happy to watch over Ms. Crumley for you while you get this whole strange conspiracy situation properly investigated.”

Dionna breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you all, truly. I must stress that the American government cannot know that this woman is under your protection. I know the Trinity obtains a significant portion of its funding from the government, and they might demand you tell them she is here. Are you comfortable lying for the greater good?”

The Pylon had a look on his face like he was itching to be a contrarian, but Death Hand spoke first, keeping him in line. “Of course we will. You’re a paragon of justice in this world, Dionna. For what it’s worth, I trust you far more than any government.”

“Oh yeah, same,” Beast Mode echoed.

Brooke remained perturbed. “And what about you, Mr. Road Cone? Can I trust you to keep your yap shut about this too?”

The Pylon sneered, then relented. “Honestly? I don’t really have a choice. I’ve seen those senses of hers in action, she’s like a damn bloodhound on steroids. Even if I went to the government, Dionna would know. As soon as I put my hand on the receiver, she’d be there to stop me.”

“I know, right? God forbid you do the right thing,” Brooke ribbed. “This is a hidden superweapon we’re talking about. Who knows what some of these assholes want to use it for.”

A beat of silence alerted everyone in the room to Dionna, who appeared to be perturbed. When a unanimous “what’s wrong?” from everyone followed, she snapped back to reality and answered.

“Oh, well I believe The Pylon’s thought process is much the same as those within the governments around the world. They know I am the most powerful hero present on this Earth by a significant margin. Even though I do nothing but promote kindness and kinship, some humans believe I don’t have their best interests in mind. They don’t like that I am more powerful than them. It frightens them, and I don’t want it to.”

“It’s okay, Dionna,” Death Hand reassured her fellow supe. She reached for Dionna’s shoulder for a gesture of support, only halfway through realizing she was using the wrong hand, switching accordingly with a nervous giggle. “If there’s one thing being Death for a good while has taught me, a lot of humans despise having no control in their lives. So many people beg and plead for just seconds of more time. They attempt to kill me, even. You’re a good person, Dionna. A great person, I’d say—but it doesn’t matter to them. They’d rather see you at their beck and call than as an ally to be respected.”

“Sounds to me like all these once-powerful assholes are just projecting,” Beast Mode added. “I’d say give it a few more years for all the boomers to die out and let the culture shift to a happier one.”

“Right, right. Culture and happiness and all that good stuff. Is anyone actually going to investigate this very serious conspiracy to kill Dionna or am I just chopped liver!?” Brooke’s complaints did not fall on deaf ears, reigniting the fire in Dionna’s spirit.

“YesrightokayyouallstayhereI’llbebacksoonIpromise!” Dionna rambled with a quick, semi-guilty smile and a friendly wave. Everyone waved back, even Brooke.

A beat passed, with the Topnotch Trinity and Brooke glancing amongst each other in uneasy confusion. A repetitive tap tap tap from The Pylon’s anxious foot provided the perfect soundtrack for the awkward scene.

“Honestly, I think that Daria chick has something to do with this alleged ultimate weapon. I mean, what are the odds of some second space gal showin’ up?” He pondered restlessly.

Death Hand shook her head. “All we can do is trust Dionna’s word. Daria is a coworker, likely some other alien. The rest of the universe is vast and unknowable, we don’t need to assume otherwise.”

“You don’t know her origins either?” Brooke questioned. “I thought Death had a record of all living beings?”

“Much like Dionna, wherever Daria comes from is a place that does not know death.”

~

Dionna resembled a statue suspended in the air, completely motionless, as her powerful senses scanned every cubic inch of the Earth around her. Whoever these conspirators were, their days of shrouding their operations in mystery were numbered. Once she could tune her sight, smell and hearing to look out for certain leads, it was only a matter of time.

It helped that she wasn’t a half-bad detective herself. Then again, she couldn’t think of anyone else who could manage a crime scene that encapsulated an entire planet.

The pieces came together one by one. She focused on where Brooke claimed she was shot and followed suspicious patterns from there. A few unauthorized shipments from a quarry here, a few “missing persons” that all fell within a particular age range there. This was subtle and wide-ranging enough that Brooke would’ve surely missed a few details in her investigation. Still, Dionna would be sure to give the lawyer her due credit in the inevitable court appearance.

A bird’s eye view allowed her to triangulate the shipment routes to one inevitable location. A warehouse, the building plans of which did not include the three additional floors of lead-lined basement her X-Ray vision was staring right at. 

“Hmm, this seems promising!” Dionna chirped, touching down right before the front entrance. [“Excuse me, sir. What are your visiting hours?”] As they were now in Brazil, she switched effortlessly to a fluent Portuguese.

The man at the toll booth looked as if he had just seen a ghost. His haunted face and trembling jaw wasn’t the answer she was hoping for, but it told her everything she needed to hear. She floated over the striped gate and walked inside. Time was of the essence. She took a curious stroll through the various manufacturing belts and presses like a building inspector might, clasping her hands behind her back as she poked her head into various nooks and crannies.

Every worker stopped and stared at her, though she paid them no mind. It didn’t matter if they were in on the conspiracy, this was all just a façade.

[“Does anyone know where the entrance to the basement is?”] Dionna asked politely, rolling on her heels as she scanned the room with her friendliest smile. Everyone froze.

[“Th- th- th- there’s no basement here,”] the nearest worker stuttered. Dionna knew a contract lie when she saw one. These people up here, they weren’t even part of the conspiracy beyond the need for an inconspicuous front. They likely didn’t have any clue what business was occurring below, and the longer she delayed, the more people could get accidentally injured.

[“Alright, don’t worry about those people below. I will handle them and ensure they will not bring any harm upon you. Please quietly vacate the premises or you might be injured!”] She then dropped to her hands and knees, placing a dainty ear to the ground below, patiently listening to the inner workings of what her eyes couldn’t see.

No one dared to disobey, but some were more hesitant to comply than others. One such transgressor was the security guard, who was under strict orders to not allow workers to leave, especially en masse.

Right as he stepped out from his booth to report the incident, Dionna was before him. A gentle yet impossibly firm finger over the holster of his walkie-talkie prevented him from drawing it any further.

[“Please, Mr. Moore.”] She had seen the name on his badge before he’d seen her. [“Any unnecessary commotion could lead to excess injury or even death. Whatever this organization is paying you, I will personally triple it for you if you put down the handheld transceiver and walk away.”]

The man didn’t need to be told twice, joining the exodus per Dionna’s request. Pleased, she returned to her infiltration efforts.

Opting for the stealthy approach, Dionna removed her shoes and stood on her tippy toes, the cold steel’s temperature irrelevant to her sensibilities. Emulating a protractor, she stuck out her left leg and performed a perfect pirouette, her toenail slicing a symmetrical circle into the floor below. She then curled the toes of her other foot right as the circle’s line met itself, crunching the metal within her creases and preventing it from falling underneath her.

Sliding aside her oversized geometric stencil, she descended into the recently-constructed hole into the great unknown. That wasn’t entirely accurate, pressing her ear to the ground earlier had told her many things, namely the positions and angles of every security camera nearby. She had arrived within a blind spot, expertly disabling the cameras one by one in quick succession to create the illusion of a local power outage in the monitoring room. That would offer her more than enough time to assess the situation without being spotted.

Cameras weren’t the only obstacles present within this basement, as several men with several guns were patrolling the area. With each step came new complications, but Dionna met the challenge, disappearing into a ceiling shadow to observe further. These armaments were unlike anything the heroine had ever seen. They were bulky and unwieldy, but within them surged a power unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t all-knowing—beyond her pleasure-based instincts, she simply had an age advantage and would spend what little free time she had studying up on humankind’s scientific discoveries to better understand the world around her.

Within enemy territory, her reconnaissance was limited to mere observation. She couldn’t deduce what the energy signal was, but judging by the massive, three-story-tall laser cannon that served as the crown centerpiece of this entire operation, it was nothing good.

One by one at blistering speeds, Dionna took down every single guard in a stellar display of non-lethality. Loose, thick wires and sturdy hanging lights were the restraints of choice as  cocoons of bound, blinded and gagged guards quickly populated the ceiling, their weapons neatly returned to the rack. This was only a temporary solution, once she had secured the perimeter, they would be freed and turned over to the proper authorities.

All that remained was a single outlier—an ongoing conversation between two men. Were this any other situation, Dionna would have already apprehended them, but she needed more insight into the inner workings of this place and future attempts at interrogation could prove inconclusive.

She traversed the ceiling, remaining out of sight until she was floating above the entrance to an office. The older man currently speaking she didn’t recognize, but she recognized his terms.

“And I’ll tell you again, flash as much money in my face as you want. It doesn’t matter. Every country has offered me the world for this technology, and yet I feel like you’re shortchanging me.” His voice was heavy with a Portuguese accent, though he was curiously speaking English.

As he spoke, his thumb fidgeted with what sounded like a switch of some kind. A brief X-ray of the room revealed the object in question—a compact version of the same gun the guards were wielding. To the beat of a metronome, he was flicking the safety of the weapon on and off, on and off, the constant crescendo and diminuendo of the weapon’s hum serving as a tense soundtrack for the meeting.

Unfortunately for Dionna, she recognized the other man’s voice.

“I know. This must feel like a paltry showing compared to what I’m sure you’re used to from my country, but I need this. I’m your best chance at seeing her removed. I’ve got the best shot, that’s a simple fact.”

That was Jack Watterson, second in command at DETA only under James Fitzgerald himself. She didn’t want to believe it, but she couldn’t deny what her ears told her. She had just talked to James yesterday—was he in the know too? All she could do now was listen.

“You must not be used to the way things work around here now. The age of the business meeting is over. This is an auction. The only meaningful input you can have is if you outbid the rest.”

“The only bid I have is one of reason. These weapons won’t matter in the hands of China or the UN. Don’t you want Dionna gone, Silas? She threatens your business too.”

“It’s not that simple, Watterson. I don’t just want a post-Dionna world, I want to be the top dog in a post-Dionna world. Yet, for supposedly being the richest country in the world, what you’re offering simply won’t get me there. I need people; servants who will do my bidding and maintain my empire. At least China is willing to offer that.”

“The United States will return to its former status as a world superpower once Dionna is dealt with. Unfortunately, she’s too tied up in our politics right now for me to give you the best possible deal. You’ll just have to trust that the United States will be good on its word.”

The superheroine couldn't believe it. Betrayed didn’t even begin to describe how she felt at that moment. 

Silas laughed. “Heh, charge it on the credit card. That’s America for you…” 

“I would say it’s a fair trade. After all, you have no idea if this weapon is actually the Dionna killer you claim it is.”

“Because it’s not a Dionna killer. It’s an everything killer. It, and all the weapons in the facility, are armed with the power to reduce matter to its base components. She will be little more than atoms scattering in the wind.” He then trailed off, as did his confident chuckle.

The safety fidgeting abruptly stopped, the gun remaining charged and ready to fire. Only then did Dionna realize that a tear had trailed down her face, dripping off her chin and denting the floor ten feet below with a very noticeable splash.

With her cover blown, Dionna had decided she’d heard enough. The perception of time around her slowed as she flew into the office, reaching for Silas’ weapon before it even aimed at the doorway.

The slow-motion arm of Silas, traveling with all the urgency of a minute hand, continued in its path unobstructed. She could feel powerful vibrations radiating off of the weapon. Immediately, she became fearful, any amount of force from her would surely detonate the device. If she treated this weapon like the margarita glass from yesterday, Silas and Jack would be shadows on the ground where they once sat. It wasn’t worth the risk.

Hmm. If I allow the weapon to hit me, I could possibly absorb the resulting seismic blast. It might even hurt, but as long as I can save a human’s life, it will be worth it!

She allowed time to resume and returned to the door, bracing herself for impact. If this really could delete matter, she would have to accommodate for losing a significant chunk of her body. That probably wouldn’t feel good. 

At that moment, with still milliseconds before she was fired upon, she took a look at the grander picture.

Humans worried her.

There was a reason Silas and Jack’s conversation had brought a tear to her eye. After everything she had done for them, some would rather risk injuring themselves just to kill her. Some of them would rather see her dead, even though making people happy made her happy, they’d rather be miserable and bring everyone down with them.

Then the blast hit her. She closed her eyes, awaiting to feel something.

Nothing.

Had it missed? No, she heard it strike her body, but it was as if it had promptly vanished afterwards without much fanfare. She felt her body grow warm from the blast, but that was all it could muster.

Dionna felt… disappointed?

No, that couldn’t be the right word. She thought to herself, standing in the door, unconsciously trapping the two terrified men in the office. But it doesn’t make sense. Underwhelmed? No… there’s more to it than that.

These idiots… they dedicated years of their lives developing a weapon that was designed to do the most amount of damage possible, atomic decomposition, with the sole purpose of removing her from the equation, and yet they hadn’t even managed to land a scratch on her.

It wasn’t disappointing… It was amusing. Hilarious, even.

To the two terrified men, the indestructible woman before them spontaniously burst into laughter. She grabbed her stomach and leaned forward for a great guffaw, her body raising and lowering as she fought her own cackles. It was the hardest she had ever laughed before. It was the only time she had ever laughed before.

Most importantly, it felt even better than helping people. She needed more.

“Shoot me again!” Dionna said gleefully between airy giggles, pointing at her chest. Her sporadic fits of laughter were the only sounds that followed. The two men remained frozen in place, neither wishing to move, their minds overwhelmed with fear.

“C’mon, just do it!” Dionna asked again, her laughing diminishing. The feeling, it was going away. 

“I said. Shoot. Me. Again.” Her joyful expression vanished with the feeling, her piercing eyes striking both men. Her delivery was cold and robotic, chasing a feeling of extraordinary highs and catastrophic lows had left her feeling drained. She needed another hit of whatever Silas was shooting.

He did as he was told, unleashing the rest of the magazine into her perfect abs. But it wasn’t the same. All Dionna could focus on now was how ineffective the “everything killer” ultimately turned out to be. It didn’t even strike her chest with enough force to make her boobs jiggle. 

“No. No, you’re not doing it right!” Dionna shouted, growing frustrated after being teased with a wondrous sensation only to lose it just as fast. Yet another crumbling castle in the sandbox, much as it tried to escape its fate.

When Silas once again failed to comply, Dionna took matters into her own hands, zipping forward and grabbing his gun, pointing it at her own chest only to remember too little too late that he was out of ammo. In her heart-pumping haste, she accidentally dislocated his shoulder… from his arm.

He screamed in agony, tendons still desperately clinging together like a rope bridge across two mountains.

“Oops! Oops! Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! That—that wasn’t supposed to happen!”

But she wasn’t sorry. Not really. While she hadn’t intended to remove a limb, the action had brought about the feeling again. It was subtle, but it was present.

The pain he felt sobered her up, and provided clarity. This feeling… this extra-special feeling she wanted to chase, it wasn’t caused by the blast striking her. No, it was because of the fear these mortals felt as they recognized the futility of their actions. For daring to defy her desires. 

It felt good.

No, it felt fucking amazing.

…

…But that was enough fun. Surely, this was just a little fluke. A little reward in the moment for her extra efforts. Now she could resume increasing humanity’s happiness. The flowcharts in her mind slotted back into place, returning from the haze currently present.

The next steps were supposed to be simple. Jack and Silas were to be apprehended and put on trial for conspiracy to murder, they’d be given prison time, and Dionna would make sure to give frequent visits so she could demystify herself for them. There was a chance Silas would likely never forgive her for ripping his arm off, but prosthetics had come a long way! At least he wasn’t dead. That was the one hardship she couldn’t undo.

But there was one other factor Dionna hadn’t anticipated. One of the men she had cocooned was a super himself, one by the name of slipstream. While he didn’t stand a chance against her physically, he had counted on her not recognizing him. Believing Dionna to be distracted, he temporarily reduced his body and his energy to a gust of wind, allowing him to escape his binds and stealthily slither to the control panel of the towering effigy to human defiance.

He only had one shot to get this right. Freeing his comrades would be a pointless exercise. She was faster. He didn’t know what half of the buttons did, but he didn’t need to. There wasn’t any need to aim the cannon, just fire it. What he did know was that Dionna’s selfless sense of justice would do the rest.

That observation was all well and good, but it was misguided.

Dionna, leaping in front of the massive cannon as it fired, knew that even this wouldn’t hurt her.

Instead, she couldn’t wait to see the look on Slipstream’s face when it failed.