It had been nine years since Fanboy had last seen his enemy Marsha. Why hadn't he? Because she had disappeared nine years ago, when she was eleven years old; last seen exiting the Kindergarten deemed her prison. The townsfolk searched and searched but had no luck in finding the scarlet-haired girl. After a few months of blind searching, everyone gave up.
Fanboy had very mixed feelings about the news of her disappearance. he knew the right feeling would be sadness but now that she was gone he wasn't in danger of being her revenge tool. No longer he would he have to cower in extreme fear while walking by the kindergarten on his way back home. No longer. No longer would he have to worry about her eerie, braces-adorned smile and piercing blue eyes boring into his vulnerable emeralds. No longer would she invade his dreams at night and claim his life. No longer would he have to worry about her. ...Right?
Nine years went by rather quickly and Fanboy had blossomed into a young man; 6 foot 5, rid of his costume, but still wore his trademark colors. He had majored in Mechanics during college and now he was busy in the making of a cyborg: Dollarnator. He really loved his job. There was just so much to look forward to, and he honestly felt at home surrounded by the metallic gears, the smell of oil and scent of polish. It also proved that he was intelligent, though his childhood friends thought otherwise.
He hadn't moved out of the Fanlair. In fact, he brought his work there. His best friend still lived with him as well, which to some people was rather odd, but the two young men shrugged off their teasing remarks about them being "as straight as rainbows". He would have liked to go out and meet a nice girl and start a family, but was always so wrapped up in his work that it seemed to slip his mind. He had forgotten completely about Marsha.
"This has been the third murder in Galaxy Hills this week. Police are looking into the cause of these murders, searching for further details. Until the person responsible for these horrific acts is found and brought to trial, then the police advise citizens to lock their doors and windows. And to be careful when outside after eight."
Those words rolled around in his mind like a blender as he strolled down the sidewalk, slightly struggling under a box of mechanical gears which he held in his lanky arms. He had just got them from the convenience store and was heading back home to the FanLair. It was a little after eight, pretty much every outside person was indoors with their locked doors and windows, waiting silently for justice. Fanboy was rather carefree about the subject. The risk that he could be kidnapped and killed seemed so far off that it sounded nearly impossible.
"I wonder who killed those people," Fanboy wondered aloud, shifting his weight so that he could readjust his grip on the box. "It's such a grizzly thing to-Oh COME ON!" he grunted, watching in annoyance as the box fell from his slender hands, every one of the gears spilling out onto the pavement. The golden-haired man cursed under his breath and got down on his knees to collect the metallic tools and place them back into the cardboard box. After further inspection, he noticed that one of the circular gears had rolled away into an alley and settled at the base of someone's doorstep. Fanboy rolled his eyes. "Come on back here lil' guy," he muttered, getting to his feet and lightly brushing off his violet skinny jeans.
He walked on over to the last gear and bent over to pick it up. As soon his hand touched the gear, he felt the door slam open. Slight anxiety coursed through his being at the abrupt sound. Before he could protest or even look up, something grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked his being through the dark, eerie doorway.