Chapter 5
"So, he stole everything?" Popping her gum, Amanda sat on the back of a street bench. Slouching slightly, her elbows resting on her own knees, my friend currently looked like way more of a street thug than I ever could... ever. "What a punk... No wonder Lizzie is so gloomy."
"Lizzie?" I sat down on the bench next to her, like a normal person, and shot the girl a surprised look. I had a rough idea of what the answer would be, but... "Never mind, I don't want to know."
"Relax, Pumpkin," Amanda said, punching me in the shoulder.
She blew another bubble with her gum and popped it loudly, giving me a nervous tic and triggering my first wave of panic at the loud noise.
"This is strictly between us girls."
"God..."
"Heh-heh-heh," the girl laughed.
With one accurate spit, she sent her gum flying into a trash can. Then she hopped off the back of the bench onto the asphalt, standing up to her full height right in front of me.
"Alright, jokes aside. Since that little shit robbed an underground casino, calling the cops is completely out of the question."
"Really? Who would've thought? Listen, are you sure you're Monster Girl and not Captain... Ow."
I rubbed my forehead, where the evil bitch had just kicked a can that had been lying at our feet, and turned away in annoyance.
"That was completely unnecessary..."
Rubbing my sweaty palms together, I gathered all the accumulated liquid in one motion and flicked it onto the ground.
"Yeah, well, so are your stupid jokes... If you don't know how to do it, don't even try," Amanda said, raising one eyebrow, silently challenging me to continue our verbal sparring match.
But Amanda acted like a true woman—she didn't even wait for me to open my mouth before she kept going.
"Just like I thought... The cops won't help us, so we're going to search for him ourselves... I have a couple of acquaintances on, let's say, the other side of the river..."
"You make it sound like you're talking about your orientation," I said.
I made a pair of scissors with my fingers and snipped them together a few times... I didn't have a can handy this time, so I only earned a reproachful glare.
"Alright, alright... it was just a joke."
"Yeah... Keep playing with your hands, 'cause that's the only action you're gonna get," Amanda said, sticking her tongue out at me and childishly pulling down one of her lower eyelids. "Are you going to listen to me or not?"
"Yeah, just say it already... You're just stating the obvious right now."
"Sometimes it's useful to say the obvious out loud, just in case you missed something," the girl sighed wearily, returning to the bench and sitting down normally next to me. "Forget it... Once you become a supe, you'll understand."
I didn't say anything in response to her words. Not because I didn't want to upset her or anything like that, but simply because... I didn't really have an answer. I obviously wasn't thrilled by the prospect of working at a water park for the rest of my life, but I wasn't exactly dying to become a superhero either... Though, considering my situation, it wasn't like I had much of a choice. I had a good education, but aside from cleaning, I didn't really have any useful skills.
Hell, ever since I ended up here, all that occupied my mind was how to get my body in order, get rid of my phobias, and just establish the bare minimum of a normal life! What future could we even be talking about!? I had so many problems that before I could even deal with one, two more would spring up!
Becoming a supe... Maybe it was worth a try. Honestly, I wouldn't lie—my imagination was running wild, painting amazing scenes. But my mind, chilled to the bone from the cold and the wet, kept insisting that there would be plenty of danger to swallow, too. After all, even the weakest hero could always stumble upon some eldritch abomination, a kaiju, or some other kind of bullshit!
"Hey, are you listening to me?" an annoyed Amanda shouted right into my ear, ripping me out of my less-than-pleasant and untimely thoughts.
Frowning in displeasure, she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes a couple of times.
"Snap out of it and let's go visit a buddy of mine... I think he might be able to point us in the right direction."
"The name of the thief?"
Getting up from the bench, I briskly caught up with my friend, who had already turned around and walked a few steps away.
"Yeah, right. Because everyone in the city knows every acne-riddled little shit by name," Amanda snorted ironically, suppressing a smile at my confusion. She continued to play the role of the seasoned professional. "We're going to find out what gangs or whatever are operating around here. And while we're at it, we'll ask around to see if some little moron has been throwing a bunch of cash around..."
"You think he's that stupid?" I clarified, referring to the last part. "He'll get caught so fast..."
"By who? The old lady who owns the place? Or one of her alcoholic patrons, who are just as old? Please," Amanda scoffed.
She took a turn at the nearest intersection, continuing to lead us confidently into a less-than-savory part of town.
"Connie's business is small, just for regulars. I doubt anyone is even running a protection racket on it. More likely, one of the local cops is getting a payoff to turn a blind eye to Granny's little operation."
"You know suspiciously too much about all this..."
"Well, I haven't always been a hero. I've spent some time on the other side, too," Amanda said, beating me to the punchline. She glanced in my direction, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "In both senses of the word."
"Uhhh, okay?"
I didn't even know what to say. Seriously. Modern California and all that. This kind of stuff happened all the time here. Even the old folks had long since gotten used to the fact that the world had changed.
"So, how was it?"
"Well, I still prefer dick..."
"God, that's not what I meant!" I grimaced at my friend's cheerful laughter as I followed her into some piss-stained alleyway that reeked of trouble... and not just trouble. "I meant the villainy part!"
"Oh, that... Boring." Once again, Amanda anticipated my question. She continued her story, stepping confidently through garbage, vomit, and a dead cat... how lovely. "As long as you're robbing petty business owners, it's not bad, but... the moment you step up to anyone higher, Phenomenon flies in and kicks you in the balls so hard you'll be feeling it for a year."
"He's that strong?"
"Fuck, you can't even imagine," she said.
We arrived at a highly stereotypical steel door with rust around the edges. It was thick, heavy-looking, and clearly hiding something unpleasant behind it.
"It only took two hits from him while I was in my monster form to knock me out cold. Have you ever been hit by a train?"
"N-no," I stammered.
Giving an exaggerated huff and throwing her arms wide, Amanda ended the conversation with a series of loud bangs on the door. The dull metallic thud echoed through the alley.
Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then, a brick slid aside next to the door, and... a single eye stared out at us?! The eye blinked a couple of times and muttered something under its breath. The brick slid back into place, and the door slowly began to open.
"Long time no see."
Light spilled out into the street, but it was quickly blocked by a massive bulk. A huge, one-eyed man—a literal cyclops—stepped in front of us, blocking the entrance. He glared down at Amanda, completely ignoring me. His massive fists, each the size of my head, were clenched nervously, and his fleshy lips, greasy from food, were pressed into a thin line. Every word from the giant, who rivaled Amanda's monster form in height, dropped like a stone from a mountain.
"Word on the street is you're swimming between the SDS's cheeks now, licking them clean..."
"Shut it, Allen." Amanda didn't even engage in the conversation. With a chuckle, she slapped the giant on the chest. "That doesn't suit you at all. And the guy is with me, so don't give him any trouble."
"Hmph."
For a few seconds, the giant stared intently into my friend's eyes, the whites of which were slowly beginning to turn black. It was as if some silent dialogue was passing between them, one I couldn't participate in... not that I really wanted to.
"Fine. You've gotten so uptight... Come on in, but don't cause a scene, or I won't let you back in next time..."
"Yeah, you always say that." Casually waving off the giant as he stepped aside, the girl pulled me along after her, not giving the big guy a chance to mock her or stroke his own ego. "Alright, Herman, listen up... Take your manners—part teenage pastor, part cuckold—and shove them up your ass. Square your shoulders, look straight ahead, but don't stare into anyone's eyes for too long. Don't slouch, and most importantly... please don't puke on anyone. Especially the person I'm going to be talking to... Got it?"
"Got it, got it. I'll do my best..." We walked in silence for a few seconds before I finally decided to clarify the point that had offended me. "Pastor and cuckold? Seriously? I thought I dressed okay! And... I don't even have a girlfriend..."
"Well, with that attitude, you probably never will, even though you can literally make any woman wet in a second... That lucky lady's slip 'n slide will be just like a ride at your favorite water park."
Seeing my sour face, Amanda gave me the sweetest smile possible. She usually reserved that smile for my grandmother.
"I'd actually sooner believe that some strong, butch woman is going to drag you into her cave and peg you senseless..."
"Hey!"
Amanda pressed her index finger to her lips, cutting me off, as we had practically reached our destination.
We had been walking down a dark hallway. The single lamp hanging near the entrance by Allen the cyclops barely illuminated half of the path we'd taken. Bare brick walls, bloodstains, scorch marks, spilled booze... and this was just the prelude to the place we were heading.
Another door appeared ahead. It was the same kind of steel monstrosity, but this time there was a handle on our side, implying it could be opened from here. The first terrifying sounds reached my ears, stirring up every possible phobia in my soul that I had managed to forget about during my peaceful life.
Screams, curses, colorful profanity, women moaning, music, and... the sounds of blows. Loud, meaty, bone-crunching impacts of flesh hitting flesh that sent shudders through my core. There were pained grunts, groans, and all the other joys of a good brawl, but most importantly...
The door in front of us swung open, and I saw a real underground fighting arena. The massive room expanded and sloped downward, allowing the spectators above to look down at the two men fighting below, who were currently beating the absolute shit out of each other. They were hitting each other so hard that *my* bones were rattling.
A tall, skinny guy with arms as flexible as whips was lashing his opponent with stinging strikes that broke the skin.
His opponent, a short, stocky guy with the massive hands of a trucker, looked more like a mythical leprechaun. He answered back by punching the poor bastard anywhere he could reach.
Right before our eyes, he let the "flexible" guy cut his face open. In exchange, he went for his enemy's family jewels—closing the distance and delivering a bone-chilling uppercut straight out of *Mortal Kombat*, literally caving a pair of testicles inward.
"God..."
"Yeah, Colm's the same as always... He's the one who taught me how to knock guys out quickly and reliably," Amanda muttered under her breath, a rare warmth in her voice as she looked down at the short guy showing off in the arena. "He calls himself the Bruiser or the Striker, though if you ask me, the Jerk-off would suit him much better..."
"Maybe the Jerk?"
Sighing wearily and rolling her eyes, my friend flexed her bicep and nodded toward the arena. It took me a few seconds to understand.
"Oooohhh..."
"Yeeeeah, you really are dense, huh."
Looking around, searching for something only she knew, Amanda led me through the crowd, still maintaining a tight grip on my hand.
"Let's hurry before the crowd disperses. The fights just started, so we're lucky Colm was up first. We'll have time to question him."
***
"So this skinny, talking condom asks me, 'Since you're so short, why don't you tell me how big your dick is?!'"
Taking a swig of beer... well, to be exact, chugging the entire can in a couple of gulps, Colm effortlessly crushed it with one hand into a neat, almost perfectly round ball. He tossed it into a plastic mesh trash can filled with hundreds just like it.
I had been wrong. His hands were bigger than any trucker's.
"And I tell him, 'I doubt your mommy would appreciate us having this conversation!'"
The loud laughter of the chatting pair assaulted my ears. Cackling loudly for the umpteenth time that evening, the two friends traded barbs, easily falling back into step after a long time apart. They talked casually, barely involving me in their conversation, giving me time to get acclimated and check out our surroundings.
And there was plenty to see.
A private room, a closet, or a locker room... call it whatever you want, the essence was the same. The room we were in was a cross between an actor's dressing room, a drunk's bedroom, and a small Soviet-era gym.
Dumbbells and kettlebells of various weights were scattered everywhere. In the corner sat a small washstand next to a wardrobe filled with identical clothes in shades of green and brown. A separate rack held a variety of suspenders.
The walls were decorated with newspaper clippings featuring Colm's face, certificates, medals, and other trophies belonging to the athlete that Amanda's friend had apparently been for a long time. All these bright, colorful pieces of paper on the walls said a lot about the owner of this place, but not as much as the single small, torn photograph standing on the table.
It featured Colm surrounded by friends and colleagues, wearing a black-and-white 1930s-style swimsuit. He sported the same dashing cavalry mustache and light stubble on his face. His hair was slicked back, with a small curl falling over his forehead.
The only difference was... unlike his current appearance, the man had been tall. Very tall. He was almost two meters of pure muscle. On each of his outstretched arms sat a fleshy young woman, giggling and covering their mouths with their hands as they balanced on his broad biceps.
"Seen enough?"
There wasn't a hint of threat in the question, but I nearly shit my pants when the Bruiser addressed me. His brown eyes slowly scanned me from head to toe.
"Where did you even find this sheltered kid?"
"At his grandmother's..." Amanda answered without thinking, earning a cheerful snort from her old friend. "I'm serious. The guy got hurt because of me, and he lives with his grandma, so I..."
"Goodness me, who would've thought playing hero would go to your head so much," Colm said.
Twirling one side of his mustache, he shot a mocking look at the frowning girl.
"I bet you even pay your taxes on time now? Or maybe you've taken up charity work for virgins..."
Making a very specific gesture with his hand—moving a clenched fist back and forth—Colm... went flying into the wall with the sound of a cannon shot, flattening against it like a cartoon character.
"Watch your mouth," Amanda said.
Her mutated arm returned to its normal appearance, but her pupils remained narrow and yellow, glowing terrifyingly against the black of her sclera.
"Or I'll chop your little hooves off and make you even shorter..."
"Heh-heh-heh."
Laughing as he untangled himself from the wall's embrace, the Bruiser casually brushed himself off. With a light flick of his finger, he adjusted his mussed mustache, twirling it back up toward the ceiling.
"That's more like it. I was starting to think you'd completely lost your balls."
"Save your mating rituals for your crazy girlfriend."
At Amanda's words, Colm seemed to stand a little taller. His eyes brightened, and his mustache bristled; he was clearly proud and took her statement as a compliment.
"Let's get down to business already... You've ruined the mood."
Amanda's eyes returned to normal. I only noticed because she shot a quick glance in my direction—a look that didn't go unnoticed by either me or our strange informant.
"Uh-huh." Giving a profound hum, the short guy briskly stomped back over to the table, picking up the chair that had flown across the room with him and setting it back in place. "Down to business, then. But keep this in mind, Amanda..."
Pointing an instructive finger at the girl, Colm's demeanor shifted instantly. He fixed us with a cold, observant stare. The cheerful joker and goofball was quickly replaced by a criminal and an underground arena fighter.
"Normally, I wouldn't do business with you. And nobody else will, either, and you know exactly why." He didn't break eye contact. His massive, muscular arms—one of which bore a rose tattoo—tensed. Colm was preparing for a fight, or at least expecting one, evidently well aware of his old friend's personality. "So let's figure out the payment first..."
"I know that," Monster Girl snapped back half-heartedly.
She bit her lower lip. Her eyes darted in my direction a couple of times before she finally let out a breath.
"You can consider this paying off your debt."
"Hah! Now that's what I'm talking about!" Clapping his hands together joyfully, as if he couldn't believe his own luck, Colm leaned forward, resting his weight on the table, causing the poor piece of furniture to creak dangerously. "Alright then, spit it out. What do you need?!"