Nemesis - Choose Your Own Whump 2
With A receiving the most votes on my last post, for this adventure we are going with a drugged Villain whumpee. Sorry about the generic name for this one, I really couldn’t think of anything else ^^
I hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for replying to the last post! As always, votes can be sent in through any method you want. Comments, asks, and PMs are all just fine. I’ll see it!
CW//Falling off a building, hostage situations, shapeshifting, medical abuse, extensive talk of sedatives, brief mention of a needle
Please note that the third scene of this piece is from the point of view of a drugged character, and thus the scene has some aspects that could be described as unreality. Please skip this scene if this would make you uncomfortable.
The video was grainy.
It was always grainy. That was the strange thing about it-- everyone carried around miniature computers in their pockets, equipped with tiny cameras that would have rivaled the most powerful devices of years prior. Any civilian could take a 4k quality video on some social media, but the moment anything actually important was happening, technology seemed to regress twenty years.
Hero supposed it didn’t matter. Their memory of the incident was certainly clear as day, better than any camera could ever capture.
They clicked a button on the remote, and the clip restarted.
The sides of the screen were blocked out in fuzzy grey-- the video having been taken through the bars of a metal fence. Between them, the camera focused at first on the foot of a brown brick building, before panning upwards, only stopping upon reaching the roof. It took a moment for the visual to adjust, focusing against the glare of the sun overhead.
Two figures, on the building’s roof. Two figures seen so often together, in so many similar videos.
The standoff had taken from dawn till sunset. How Villain had gotten into the building unnoticed had yet to be fully understood, but, regardless of method, they wasted little time in taking hostage a group of professors, eating lunch together. A single one had been released, bringing with them a message:
“Everyone leaves. No one comes in. Everyone stays outside the fence.”
It had seemed like a trap, at first. Of course it had. It wouldn’t be the first time that Villain had played such a trick. After much debating, however, evacuation was deemed to be the best option, and the campus was soon barren.
The hours afterwards had been as long and hot as they had been nerve-wracking. The very thought of following orders from Villain made Hero’s stomach twist, but their orders were incredibly clear: Don’t do anything stupid.
It was an incredibly difficult order to follow.
Establishing a line of communication had been the hardest part. Villain had quickly disconnected any security cameras in the vicinity, alongside confiscating any technology their hostages might have held.
In the end, it was decided that a reporter would be the one to go in. One of the most recognizable faces in the city, and one that was neutral. Not fighting for either side, but representing the citizenry.
The whole plan bet on one fact: That the shapeshifting Hero could pull of the imitation.
It worked. At least, it worked for as long as it needed to. Villain accepted the olive branch, and allowed the supposed reporter to enter unharmed.
Of course, the illusion broke as soon as Hero opened their mouth. No matter how good they were at changing their shape, it did not change their voice. In the brief moment of confusion, the hostages had managed to make their escape.
Leaving only the two nemeses, and the building as their battlefield.
It was hard to remember the fight. They had waged so many battles against one another, they all seemed to blend together, at one point or another. There was broken glass, pushed over tables, exploding equipment, and then-
And then they were on the roof.
Villain was stupid, but they weren’t, well, they weren’t stupid. They may have had the moral compass of a kleptomaniac feline, and the brain cells to match, but they had common sense. A sense of self-preservation.
Forcing them to the edge of the roof... it was supposed to be like pushing them to a corner. Trapping them.
In the video, the two figures danced. Forward, and back, until one took the lead. Until they were up against the edge, with nowhere left to go.
They were supposed to stop. They weren’t supposed to fall.
They stopped their own fall, or at least they tried. They were telekinetic. Of course they did. But they were surprised, or confused, or, or something. They slowed themself down. But they did not stop. The force with which they struck the concrete parking lot below was more than enough to knock them out.
The video ended.
And... that was it. The end. Years and years of battles, some won, some lost, all ended. They should have been happy, and they were! They hated Villain, sincerely and truly hated them.
But no other villain fought like them. No other villain had their tongue, their wit. Their skill. Their fight.
Villain’s defeat should have been epic! The ultimate confrontation of good and evil, of chaos, and order.
Yet, their downfall was a simple trip.
In the corner of Hero’s TV screen, small white text helpfully reported to them just when that video had been recorded.
One year ago.
One year, since that day. Since Villain’s downfall. And now...
Hero’s phone buzzed. A text message. The confirmation of a meeting.
One whole year, and still, Hero’s mind was consumed by their lost nemesis.
The diner was terribly busy, and yet, when Hacker walked through the door, Hero had no doubts as to their identity.
Despite their rather stereotypical appearance, there was nothing about the person’s manner that would have indicated the sheer amount of time they spent behind a computer screen. They greeted the receptionist, pointed to Hero, and exchanged a few words beyond that. With a smile, then, they parted, and made their way to Hero’s table.
Their manner only seemed strange when they sat down, and Hero noted that the way they smiled seemed to pain them.
“Is this seriously what you people act like?” They hissed through bared teeth. “Can I stop smiling now? Or will they look at me weird?”
“They’re already looking at you weird.”
“You- You don’t need to do that.”
“Oh thank god.” Immediately, their expression fell into one far more analytic. Far less friendly. “I, uh, don’t get out much.”
“Really?” Hero raised a brow incredulously.
“I’ve got more important things to do than, uh, than going out. Anyways.” They stuck a hand outwards. It was partially covered by a fingerless glove. “I’m Hacker.”
“I figured.” Hero shook the offered hand. “I’m Hero, though I suppose you already know that.”
“You’d think people here would be, uh, a bit more in awe? It’s not everyday you get to eat in the same building as a superhero.”
“Keep your voice down, please.”
“Oh, sorry. Is it, like, a secret? You don’t have a secret identity, do you?”
“No. But when I’m out of costume, I’m not exactly that recognizable. So let’s keep it that way. Kapish?”
“Kapash. But, still, oh my god. This is so cool! A real life hero...”
“Yeah... Yeah. A real hero alright.”
A hero who could hardly focus during battle. A hero who infuriated their team leader more than they aided them.
“Anyways.” Hacker raised their head, a far more natural smile coming onto their face. “I have the... thing.”
“You mentioned that. It’s about Villain, right?”
The person across the booth leaned down, prying a laptop from a carrying case and placing it atop the table. It was a bulky thing, and as soon as it was turned on, the shrill sound of fans struggling not to overheat filled Hero’s head. Hacker clicked around a bit. They gripped the edges of the device, as if about to spin it around, before they stopped, frowning.
“It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?” They commented.
“Since Villain was captured. Yes. 374 days.”
“You miss them, don’t you?”
It was so direct. Hero couldn’t help but stutter:
“I don’t- Of course I don’t miss them. I hate them.”
Hacker looked up over the laptop screen to give them an incredulous look. It wasn’t a convincing lie.
“I don’t miss them.” Hero stood their ground. “But I want to make sure they’re contained.”
“I just... I don’t know if this is something you want to see. You’re trying to move on, and-”
“Show me it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. If it’s something to do with their containment, I need to know about it. I can’t let them hurt anyone else.”
“Well, that’s not the problem here. If you’re sure.”
With a sigh, Hacker spun the computer around, so that it’s screen faced Hero.
They weren’t sure what they expected. Some kind of... deep web threat? A message from Villain? A copycat? An escape attempt?
But they didn’t get any of that. Instead, the screen displayed a simple PDF. Medical records. At the top, in bold letters and a rather ostentatious logo, the header read:
Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization
For the most part, the page was Greek to Hero. A slew of ID numbers and attending physicians with far too many acronyms following their names. What did make sense to them was the spreadsheet that made up most of the page, labelled:
Approved Daily Medication Dosage for Patient: Villain
The spreadsheet took up two pages with solid text. Hero did not recognize the medication names, of course, but they did not need to be a doctor to understand the entries written under the column labelled “Medication Purpose.”
Every single data cell, even as they scrolled to the bottom of the document, contained only one word. The same word.
“This is...” Hero muttered, furrowing their brow. Scrolling up and down. This had to be wrong, somehow.
“I don’t understand most of it.” Hacker commented sheepishly. “But, uh, I have a few friends with some more medical knowledge than me. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s more than enough medication to sedate a fucking elephant- sorry, excuse my language.”
“It’s fine.” The confusion in their voice was rapidly melting to fury.
“Even for major surgical procedures... nothing near this level would ever be used.”
“This has to be a mistake.” Hero shook their head. “A mix-up. Maybe it’s like... all the medications the facility ordered. And they just labelled it wrong.”
“Well, if it’s a mistake, they’ve been making the exact same one for an entire year. I’ve got 374 of these files. Newest one just got uploaded a few hours ago.”
“And they’re always the same?”
“With some minor dosage adjustments, but yes. That’s not, um, that’s not all of it.”
Hacker reached over, dragging the computer back so that it faced them again. There was more clicking this time, along with typing at a speed that made Hero’s fingers hurt, just to watch it.
When the laptop was spun back around, this time, it was a video.
A camera feed.
Villain felt about to choke on their tongue.
It wasn’t a new feeling. More or less, it was the only thing they felt, anymore. That heavy block of muscle in their mouth, threatening at any moment to block throat choke air no air no-
They were losing their words again. Words... wordsssssss... Voices. Voices spoke words. Sometimes, they did. Sometimes they grumbled and muttered and sputtered and murmured like a car murmured. Cars... or was it cats? No, cats didn’t murmur. They purred. What else did they do? Not bark... no, barking too loud for cats. Cat go mew mew, real quiet like.
Cat’s meow, that is a cat’s voice. There were other voices, too. Quiet like cats. Two of them, two voices. They knew those voices, those were the doctors’ voices. The doctors liked to talk a lot. They talked, but they did not see. Or... no. They were not seen. Villain did not see them. They wanted to, but their eyes were broken. The engines in their eyelids would not run anymore, would not open the garage door, Sally!
One of the doctors’ voices got closer. A million miles away, a hand was laid upon Villain’s wrist, flipping over their hand so that their palm faced downward.
“Let’s move it.”
It was a silly thing to say. Nothing moved in this place. Nothing that Villain could see, as their eyes were broken.
“Is the other vein healed enough?”
“It’s going to have to be.”
Silly words... Villain wanted to laugh, but their muscles were firmly locked away behind a padlock.
“Okay.” The doctor sounded so sad. Why were they so sad? Villain’s mouth was full of soil. The doctor was tired. “I’ll get the rest of the medicines.”
“We’re going 30 milligrams up from yesterday on the Propofol.”
“They opened their eyes, yesterday.”
Hero felt sick. In the top right corner of the security footage, the same logo from the medical records was displayed. The Specialized Criminal Rehabilitation Unit of Organization. Below it, a subtitle.
“Keeping the city safe.”
Was this safety? It shouldn’t have been. They had known, of course, what had happened to Villain after their capture and very brief hospital stay. It was what happened to all villains. They were sent to the rehab unit.
A therapy program. Helping villains to control their powers and reform their lives. To return them to the straight and narrow. But, now that Hero thought about it...
Villain was the only one who had never been released.
Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!
A.) Tell someone about what is happening - Who should Hero tell? (They are on a small team, as well as part of a larger Organization, for reference.)
B.) Attempt a more direct approach. Visit Villain in the rehab program - Should Hero try to rescue Villain immediately?
53 notes · View notes