Super

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different."

– Coco Chanel

Lila Parker was indubitably average. With average brown hair, which she twirled around her averagely pudgy fingers, and average brown eyes that shone just enough to make her average height of 5'5'' really stand out. Even her clothes – ripped jeans and a purple Ramones tee shirt – were plain. The only thing about Lila Parker that was not average was that she had super powers. She was also my best friend.

By day, Lila sat in class and twiddled her thumbs. By night, she would slip into a midnight-blue spandex suit, tie an obnoxious strip of blue leather with two eyeholes cut just wide enough so onlookers could view her winged eye makeup around the upper half of her head and scale an insanely tall building in a matter of seconds. She could also leap from said building, landing unscathed on her feet, melt into the shadows, and stalk pray like a natural-born hunter. When she needed weapons, her fingernails grew into talon-like claws. When she needed speed and agility, her average body could morph into that of any form of cat she pleased; be it a lion, tiger, puma even.

Actually, the whole by-day/ by-night thing wasn't strictly true. Lila was a superhero so she would find any excuse to dash out of class if civilians needed her during the day. It just happened that most crimes here in New York City took place at night. Lila excelled at night rescues, perhaps because of the cat-like night vision she possessed, or maybe due to the fact that nobody would see her coming. That's probably why I expected her to be my saviour that lonely Friday night and not some stranger unbeknownst to the super world.

Last year, supers started popping up everywhere once crime rates spiked exponentially. Apparently, they'd always been there and were just waiting for the right moment to introduce themselves: when they knew humans would finally be ready. That would be our generation, the one stock full of teenagers that wished with all their might that they could be swept off to Neverland or at the very least, discover Narnia in some beaten-up old wardrobe.

Most supers were heroes; those who were not quickly learned to stay out of their way. All of them had amazing gifts. There were heroes like Gold Thrush, probably the most famous of them all, who could fly, run at the speed of light, and possessed super strength, among other things. Then there were supers like Alloy or Lila (a.k.a. The Claw) who could take on the appearance of something. For example, The Claw could turn into a cat, with all the cat-like abilities (kind of like a Barbie Dream House with all the accessories), and Alloy who could take on any metallic composition, which made punching him a real knuckle-breaker. Actually, the reason they were so similar was because they were siblings. Alloy was the Claw's evil twin. Yeah, Lila's family was a little messed up.

Now, if you've ever been followed, you'll know a little bit about how this goes. You'd know you're in trouble as soon as the Mazda sedan idling outside your friend's house starts revving its engine the moment he thanks you again for helping him with biology homework and shuts the door behind you. When the sedan's wheels silently start to roll and the car follows at an extremely slow, steady pace behind you, you know it's time to quicken your pace and when you reach an alley, you'd turn down it because that seems like the appropriate thing to do and besides, you know that alleys are only dead ends in movies, right? Wrong.

I stopped, staring in a mixture of horror and shock up at the huge brick wall in front of me. No way in hell would I be able to climb that. It was run or hide, and my hiding options certainly weren't very good considering the only things in this stupid alley were trashcans full to the brim of what smelled like year-old fruit and an old, soggy mattress. As for running, that wasn't much of a choice either considering two things: (1) there was a wall in front of me and (2) there was a car full of potential muggers behind. Basically, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

The sedan rolled to a stop perpendicular to the mouth of the alley, the crank of the engine cutting off echoed ominously off of the brick walls New York City was so famous for. After what seemed like an eternity, the driver door popped open. I could just make out a shadowy shape, appearing to reach into the backseat of the car before swinging its legs out and standing up. Two other figures followed suit, emerging from the other side of the car.

Not one of the three figures bothered to close the car doors, appearing to think it would be a quick job. I swallowed nervously, beads of sweat beginning to dampen my hairline as my eyes darted around frantically, searching for an alternate route of escape.

The alley seemed to narrow as the driver neared, flanked by the other two figures. All three had the height and build of men; however, their fashion senses could not have been more different. The driver wore what appeared to be a very fancy suit: light grey, with a baby blue tie and black dress shoes shined to perfection. The shoes scintillated in the pale moonlight, seeming to wink at me tauntingly.

As for the two thugs behind him, they were not quite so clean-cut. Where the driver was clean shaven with hair neatly combed to the side, the part so crisp and clear I could see it from twenty feet away, the other two were adorned in dark stubble and mops of shaggy black hair. The thugs wore band tee shirts and khakis - an odd combination - and cheap knock offs of the driver's shoes. All three, however, looked equally menacing.

Now whether your city has superheroes or not, if you've ever seen any kind of superhero movie, you'll know this is around the time the hero is supposed to show up, right? No such luck. You'll also know that if you actually don't have any money on you, the muggers are not going to be pleased. Cue handsome hero to the rescue! Again, no such luck, because this particular hero happened to be running late. What was the point of superheroes if they were never here when you needed them?

I chewed my bottom lip, gnawing at it until I tasted blood. The closer the three men got, the more uneasy I grew. They were beginning to look less like muggers and more like hitmen. In a movement so fast I would have missed it had I blinked, the driver reached behind him into his waistline and produced something sleek and metallic. Just like his shoes, it glistened menacingly in the moonlight. Following his lead, the other two mimicked the movement. I realized with a foreboding sense of dread that all three of them had guns. They all had guns pointed straight at me and I was going to die.

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The potential murderers were still advancing, all three of them pointing their guns in my direction. I gulped. Another second of this and I'd be wetting myself. Either that, or lying dead on the cobblestones with my brains splattered all over the alley. I mentally said thanks to whatever possessed me not to drink that extra cup of coffee at Nick's house this afternoon or else it would be in my pants right about now. I also mentally cursed myself for taking the back roads home. Of course, the one time I was truly alone, I got trapped in an alley by the Godfather's henchmen.

"I-I don't have any money," I stammered, showing them my empty wallet for emphasis.

"We don't want your money, sweetheart," Thug #1 rumbled in a smoker's rasp. "We want information." I frowned, thoroughly confused. What information could I have that they could possibly want?

"Carlos!" The driver snapped, before speaking rapidly in a language I didn't recognize. A few phrases sounded vaguely Spanish, but I took French so nothing I could recognize.

Meanwhile, a cold sweat had formed on my brow as I remembered my brother's words from last month: tell them nothing. You give them one answer and they'll come back for more and more and more... Again, I bit my lip. I didn't have any answers.

"What information?" I demanded now. "What do you want?"

The driver regarded me calculatingly. I took the opportunity to study his face. Thin stress lines framed his mouth and creased his eyes. This made it difficult to guess his age, but I would probably place it around twenty or thirty. Something about the man looked so familiar, though... Like I'd seen him somewhere before...

The driver's lips parted in a hesitant reply but before they could form a sound, a pair of dark gloves snaked around Thug #2's mouth. Surprise rendered us speechless as the man barely had time to widen his eyes before he was yanked sharply backwards, a sickening crack erupting through the air like lightning splitting a tree trunk. The body, having been dragged into the shadows, had disappeared.

Seconds passed and there was no sign of the attacker. By now, the first thug was swinging his head around so fast I thought his neck might snap, too. He spun a 360, glancing around, panic dilating his pupils so much that his eyes appeared black. Suddenly, he, too, was ripped towards the darker part of the alley where his attacker could escape what thin beams the moonlight had to offer. Stumbling, but held up by some unseen force as the skin on his neck creased as if someone had grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, the thug disappeared into the wall's shadow. That's when a shape appeared from the dark. I let out a grateful whimper, praying it was Lila.

"Thank God you're here, I thought you'd never show!" I nervously ran my hands through my hair, waiting for Lila to step out of the shadows, but was confused when instead the rippling air took the shape of a man instead.

"Well," he smirked, knife pressed tightly against Thug #2's throat, "not showing is my specialty." I gasped and leapt back, cowering against the dead end as much as I could from the super in front of me. It was no secret Grace Williams, a worker at the convenience store down the road from my house, had died just last week at the hands of a super matching his description perfectly. But if he was so bad, why was he saving me now?

Ignoring me, the Invisible Hand, as he had called himself, slid the blade neatly across the second thug's throat. The now-dead man dropped to his knees and then to his face as blood poured out of his neck. I swallowed the urge to gag and forced my gaze to the driver who regarded the super villain warily.

After only a second's hesitation, he turned to run, but stopped, gasping as another Invisible Hand popped up out of nowhere, smirking and slashing his blade in a wide arc across the driver’s chest, staining his baby blue tie red.

"You can clone yourself?" I asked, eyes wide as I momentarily forgot my horror. Fascinated, I took a hesitant step towards him. I had never heard of heroes being in multiple places at the same time.

"Only twice and within a twenty foot radius, but ssh," he winked, "don't tell anyone." Again, I frowned. Why would he tell me the limits of his powers? Wouldn't he want that to remain a secret?

As neither of us were looking, the driver had begun to drag himself across the cobblestones, the wound in his chest probably too shallow to kill him straight away. He had almost made it back to the car when the Invisible Hand spun on his heel and called in a disappointing tone, "uh uh uh," he shook his head, "I really thought you'd be smarter than that." As soon as the words left his lips, the driver let out a blood curdling scream. His skin began to blister gruesomely, turning a garish brown, and the sound like hot water boiling over erupted in the alley, echoing off the tall, narrow buildings around us. It was as if the driver's blood was literally boiling. Terrified, I took another step back, stopped by the cold clutches of the alley wall.

The Invisible Hand stopped smirking, frowning as he noticed the fear that must have registered in my face, "now why would you do that? I just saved your life and revealed one of my power's limits and you still don't trust me?"

"Why should I trust you?" I tried for a scoff, but my voice was too feeble to pull it off, "you killed those men!"

The villain frowned, "if I hadn't, they would have killed you."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I screeched. "That's your excuse?" Though I would never admit it aloud, it was a pretty solid excuse.

"Annabelle–" the super started to say. Before I could ask how the Invisible Hand knew my name, we were interrupted by heels slapping on cobblestones as the super infamous for being stealthy alerted us of her presence a good minute before she even arrived.

"Annie!" She panted, bending over and putting her hands on her knees as she breathed heavily, "Annie, I am so sorry! McKenzie Ladders got her cat stuck in a tree again and, you'd think with her name being Ladders and all she'd be able to get a ladder, right? But no, I had to spend thirty minutes getting the damn cat out of the tree. Just because I'm practically half freaking cat doesn't mean the damn things like me. The stupid thing nearly clawed my face off and–" The Claw finally glanced up and gasped, shooting backwards as the Invisible Hand sent her a cocky wink and a wave before melting into invisibility again.

From seemingly nowhere, he said, "I think you've got this covered, Claw" I could practically hear the smirk as he said, "goodnight Annabelle." And then, as a breeze ruffled my hair, somehow I knew he was gone. Once she was sure we were alone, Claw reeled on me.

"How does the Invisible Hand know your name?" She shrieked. "Do you have a death wish?"

"I know," I winced, "wait, no, I mean I don't know. He knew it already, like, after he saved me–"

"What have you been smoking? The Invisible Hand saved you?" Claw snorted and I slapped her arm.

"Lila–"

"AHEM!" She practically shrieked, clearing her throat obnoxiously and risking a nervous glance around.

"Sorry,Claw, he actually did. I don't know either, okay? It just... Happened. But he saved me from three guys with guns, and–"

"Yes, I can see that," Lila nodded at the three bodies scattered around us. To be honest, I had forgotten they were there. One was red and blistered and swollen from having his blood boiled. Another lay bone white in a pool of his own blood, still spilling from the gash in his neck and the third lay dead at the end of the alley, his body twisted in an unnatural way after having his neck snapped like a twig. "I wonder what they wanted," she whispered sadly.

"Information." I said automatically.

"What information?"

"I don't know; that's when the Invisible Hand showed up and killed them all!"

"Huh, that's a little convenient don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe he was trying to cover something up," Lila shrugged, "how should I know?" She flinched and gripped her temple. "Now if you'll excuse me, some toddler is about to spill a pot of tomato soup on himself." And with that, she was off. All I heard before she disappeared into the shadows was a grumbled, "stupid parents leaving the handles hanging over the edge of the stove... God, I need to get in shape!"

"Or buy a car," I suggested to myself before beginning the slow walk back to our apartment. When I got home, I told my mom everything. Dad was working late again. Being the mayor had almost been harrowing enough on his free time, but now he was running for state senator and spent nearly every free night working on his campaign with his brother, my uncle Clyde.

My mom listened to the whole story in a silent rigidness, the fridge door still open from where she left it ajar after I had hurtled into her, babbling like a crazy woman. Only occasionally did she shift her weight, or lean on the counter in shock when I described a particularly dangerous part of my story.

When I got to the part about Lila shouting that she needed to get in shape, my mom just chuckled.

"If that girl doesn't buy a car, I'll buy her one," she laughed nervously. "It can be the new Bat Mobile. We'll call it the Cat Mobile!" Only my mom and I knew Lila's secret. Not even her parents knew. In fact, we were more of a family to her than her own family considering her own twin was a super villain. Most mornings, we'd come into the living room to find Lila crashed on our couch, snoring lightly and still wearing half of her outfit.

Our apartment was pretty decent for a mayor's salary. It was definitely big. Granted, it was no brownstone, but it was twice the size of the average New York City apartment. Like most apartments, we shared the building with other tenants. Mom liked to keep things simple and because dad was never home, he didn't get much say in where we lived. Still, we owned our own floor and had separate rooms for all our amenities.

My mom surprised me by smacking me on the back of the head. It hurt more than she intended and she tried to keep the guilt out of her voice as she scolded, "now what were you doing in an alley at night?"

"I told you," I defended, rubbing my head, "I tried turning down it to get away from the car!"

"Annie, you know alleys equal dead ends and dead ends equal bloody murder! What if the Invisible Hand hadn't been there to rescue you?"

"So you agree he rescued me and wasn't trying to cover something up?" I probed.

She massaged her temples, "I don't know... I don't know," she repeated, "but stay out of the alleys and stick to main roads on your way back from your friends’ house, okay?" She sighed and watched me silently for a second. "Did you at least get a glimpse of the license plate?"

"No," I blushed sheepishly. "I was tired after studying biology with Nick. It was a dark greyish-silver Mazda though."

"What make?"

I blanched, "I don't know cars."

Sighing, mom glanced at the time blinking on the microwave. It read 2:02AM so she said, "alright, go get some sleep, okay? I'll wait up for your father. Not a word of this to him, okay?" I nodded and scurried off to my room, shutting the door and sliding down it as I tried to hide the shakiness in my hands.

"Rough night?" A familiar silky voice mused with a hint of what sounded like genuine concern. Shocked, I banged my head against the door handle as I struggled to stand up from my position on the floor. I let out a groan as I looked around frantically for the source of the voice. When there was nobody there, I relaxed. It was probably just post-traumatic stress or something like that. That was, until a body took shape in the far right corner of my room.

Pursed lips and dark eyes came first, followed by the rest of the body as the Invisible Hand became visible. "You know, there's a reason I'm called the Invisible Hand," a smirk danced on his lips and I nearly fell over backwards as I tried to get away from him, arms outstretched.

"How do you know my name and how do you know where I live?" I stuttered, trying to enunciate the word vomit that tumbled from my lips.

"Wow, slow down there, what are you planning to do? Slug me to death with a pair of jeans?" I looked down confused, realizing I had grabbed yesterday's dirty jeans off of the floor in self-defense. Embarrassed, I chucked the jeans onto the bed as I tried to keep the contents of my stomach in my stomach.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

Ignoring the question, the Invisible Hand regarded my frazzled state smugly, "don't you think if I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it by now?" He winked, stepping into a thin beam of light filtering in from the window across from my door. The moon cast an eerie glow over his smoky black suit and illuminated something I hadn't noticed before: two silver letters glittered and I had to wonder whether they were sequined. The letters read IH.

"Right, well, either you tell me why you're stalking me or you get out," I huffed, sounding tougher than I felt and desperately hoping he wouldn't laugh at my pathetic ultimatum. Unfortunately, he did. He snorted before he seemed to realize he would and slapped an embarrassed hand over his mouth before seeming to regain his composure. I had to resist the urge to shrink away as he took another confident step forward.

"First, I need to know I can trust you," he smirked.

"How do I prove that?" I cursed myself for not casting this villain out on the streets where he belonged. Instead I found myself curious and curiosity killed the cat. Was this some twisted metaphor that Lila was going to die? Again, I cursed my stupidity and narrowed my eyes at the super in front of me.

When IH didn't answer, I asked a different question. "Are you one of those villains from the stories? You know, the ones everyone thinks are evil but actually have ulterior beneficial motives and have just been wrongly accused or something?"

The Invisible Hand's chuckle rippled through the still room and he wiped a fake tear from his startling blue eyes. "Aren't you just something else?" He grinned and ran a hand through his liquorice black hair. Now that I wasn't in mortal danger or fearing for my life, I was noticing all the details like his perfect jawline and pale pallor, which stood out like a lighthouse beacon against his smoky black suit. With an easy smile, he said, "but to answer your question: sadly, no. I'm one of the bad guys."

I scoffed, "I'm calling BS," but seeing the Invisible Hand's unwavering expression, I sobered. "You're not trying to recruit me, are you?"

"Something like that," he laughed and began fading into nothingness before I grabbed his wrist while it was still visible. Like the Cheshire cat, his grin and eyes were always the first to appear and the last to disappear. I gripped his wrist as I stared daringly into his disappearing eyes. "One of the great things about being invisible, Annabelle, is that I can just wink out of existence," he winked just as his eyes vanished. My hand tightened around his wrist, but less than a second later, I was clutching air.

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