In the house, the upper level was an observatory. A wide open floor that allowed Black Hat to showcase various gadgets. The middle level was his; his office, his study, and his bedroom where he did not sleep. The lower level was split between the laboratory with Flug's sleeping quarters, and Demencia's rooms.

The late night hours held an innocent fascination for Black Hat. His humans needed sleep, as did most of the life on this dying planet. And for some reason, most of the species had all agreed that nighttime was for sleeping. So things got quiet.

Black Hat could still hear the gentle vibrato of the cars outside. They lived adjacent to a city so there was never truly any silence at any time. But the air was quieter and hung heavier. Shadows that clung to the corners during the day, now hung freely. They swayed as he passed them, like effervescent cobwebs. The stairs did not creak underfoot, knowing to stay silent under the footfalls of their master. For the others, they would groan loudly, the wood resisting being stepped on.

As he stepped onto the first floor, he stopped. The air was thick with a miasma he could feel coating his skin. Dreams were not in his purview, he was about wanting.

Black Hat moved into the lab, decked out in brushed metal and glass. No reflections could be held in any of the shiny surfaces. The air here was also thick, and twisting. There was pain, anger, and terror sending spikes out along creeping tendrils.

The lab curved and in an area that was placed under the wide staircase, was Flug's room. The ceiling was heavily slanted, and on the higher places were hung model airplanes. Other posters and pictures were hung betwixt and between blueprints, schematics, and other diagrams.

The room only held a desk, a large metal armoire, and a small bed. On the bed, lay the figure of the broken doctor. The nightmares spewing from Dr. Flug's mind crashed into him. He could do nothing about them, but poked a bit in Flug's head. What did the doctor want?

It always came down to the simplest of human urges; he wanted to be held. As he watched the doctor, Black Hat went to the desk and undid his tie. Comfort was an odd thing, since his body was purely constructed to be a tactile absorber. He felt everything, wanted to feel everything, regardless of comfort. As he assimilated, however, habits to keep up appearances soon became preferences of comfort.

Before getting into bed, he needed to remove some articles. So off came the tie, the vest, the top hat, the gloves, and the button down shirt. The bowler hat stayed, a wry statement that he was no simple human, and he kicked off his shoes.

Getting into bed was easy, since he could bend it to his will. Oozing over the doctor, Black Hat took his place behind the man's curving spine. He smoothed away Flug's errant hair, and Black Hat laid his head on the pillow. Putting his arms around Flug, he pulled the doctor to his chest. The breathing became softer. The miasma started to dissipate. Flug relaxed.

Humans needed to worry about making pacts with demons, even in their sleep.

Black Hat always extorted a price.

Sleeping was a tricky thing for Black Hat. As was common with his type, sleep was a sucking thing that would pull him in for eons. He didn't want to lose himself, and so he stayed awake. It wasn't as if he had a truly human body that needed rest.

But he got bored.

He first thought about business. He was having Dr. Flug work on a cloaking device in any downtime the man might have. They had tried twice before to launch their death ray into space, but some government had shot it down before it even broke the stratosphere. If they could find a way to send it up, they wouldn't have to worry about commissions for a long time.

A lot of the doctor's time was taken up by those self same commissions. By their very nature, superheroes and villains were a showy lot, so they wanted something with more style than automatic submachine guns and explosives. Black Hat could respect that, finding that most murders were routine and therefore boring. And this was after recognizing that murder was the more entertaining way for a person to go out.

The problem was, a lot of people wanted to be a villain, but not many of them wanted to put actually work into their villainy. They needed mad scientists, but they are rogue agents, seeking to release their own form of evil upon the world. So finding one that was willing to work as a henchman was a matter of scarcity.

He had found Flug though the sheer force of the human's wanting.

They met in an alley, where Flug was coughing up blood and bile. Black Hat was venturing out of his home for the first time and had been overwhelmed by all of the desire he felt in the city. Everyone always wanted something. But this man, his wanting was so small, yet forceful. He wanted it to end. He wanted to fly.

"Would you like to make a deal?" Black Hat put both hands on the head of his cane and leaned forward. Flug turned his head, his paper bag pushed up far enough on his face to free his mouth. The goggles were rucked up, but there was a thin line of sight from where the bag tented over the bridge of his nose.

Flug said nothing at first, but turned his face back toward the ground, and spat.

"Who are you?" Flug asked. He had used one arm to brace himself against the wall as he hunched over, heaving. His other arm braced his gut.

"That name is Black Hat. And I can give you what you want." Black Hat said with a small bow. "All you need to do is strike a bargain." Flug laughed weakly, wiped his mouth on the back of a shaky hand, and stood.

"What are you, the devil?" The doctor still gripped his side, his arm barring his stomach. Internal injuries then. Perhaps a few broken ribs. His breathing was fine, so the sponge-like matter of his lungs were probably clear.

"If that's what you want to think, sure. Though I'm not interested in souls. More in, satisfying desires." Black Hat paused, thinking on the human mythology. "An Incubus if you will."

A surprising laugh broke out of Flug, but it was quickly followed by a racking cough. If the lungs were fine, then maybe there was damage to the diaphragm. For fuck's sake, there were too many ways for a mortal to be broken.

"So do we have a deal?" Black Hat continued when the coughing had abated.

"You don't even know what I want." Flug retorted. Black Hat grinned. His smile was filled with too many teeth, all of them sharp.

"You want to escape." Black Hat said. Flug didn't reply, only pulled down the bag to cover his mouth, so Black Hat went on. "You are Dr. Flug Slys of the League of Superpowered Citizens, are you not?"

"I am Flug and I am Slys, yes." Flug said tentatively.

"You create their suits and weapons." It was more a statement than a question, so Flug didn't answer. "It just so happens that I am looking for a scientist." Flug laughed again, just one, dry bark.

"You want me, to work for you? A, a, a villain?" He was skeptical. Black Hat held up his chin.

"Yes." He replied, as serious as Flug was baffled.

"You can't be serious. They, they w-would hunt me down." Flug used his free hand to press against the top of his head. "They would think I betrayed them! I, I know all of their weaknesses."

Now Black Hat laughed. It was an unnatural laugh that seemed to echo from multiple mouths, loud and mocking. Flug angled his body away from him.

"My little doctor, I already know all of their weaknesses. But that's not why I want you. I can give you, inspiration. I can make things possible that you couldn't even imagine. And," Now Black Hat stepped closer to the doctor. "If you stay, I'm afraid your days are numbered."

Black hat reached out a hand and laid it heavily on Flug's shoulder. Flug staggered under the weight of it.

"But I can protect you." Darkness seeped from the edges of Black Hat's coat and curled around their feet. It didn't just cover the sidewalk beneath them, but seemed to erase it. Flug shifted uneasily under Black Hat's hand as the darkness inched closer.

"You're not human, are you." Flug's voice was deadpan. Black Hat grinned again.

"Not even slightly." He leaned in just as the darkness started to twist its way up his cane. "Now, do we have a deal?"

That deal was simple. Black Hat would free Flug from the heroes, but in return, would work for him.

And he, in his youth and naivete, believed that all humans were so resilient. That the previous mistreatment Flug had suffered would dim, and Black Hat would be the beginning and the end of Flug's cowering.

But there were times when he bellowed, and Flug clutched his side.

It was easy enough, in the beginning, to keep Flug hidden. Black Hat only had a few clients, and had not yet wanted to advertise that his gear was being made by a former superhero lackey. In the early days, they made many house calls. That was the time Flug seemed to be at his happiest, when he was in the pilot's seat and flying them to whatever small country looking to start a coup.

There was no flair in those days. Just highly effective missiles and high powered mobile turrets. Money flowed in, and they were able to outfit the house in a way to complete their more ambitious objectives.

Finally, they started to get in the masked villains. The ones with henchmen and lairs. It was then that Black Hat bragged about kidnapping the mechanist for the League. By now, it only added to his prestige.

Then, the first "rescue" attempt happened.

It was a hero named Mammoth Cat managed to make it through the front door. Expecting a monologue, he paused long enough for Black Hat to skewer him with his tentacles.

The brawny man wearing some sort of pelt over his shoulders and with claws on his hands, bled and shrieked as he was pinned to the wall above the door. Black Hat had studied human anatomy for a long time, and knew where to inflict pain instead of bringing death.

"And what do you want?" Black Hat asked as he moved closer, his coat slowly swallowing the length of the tentacles.

"You have, Flug." Mammoth Cat gasped. Black Hat stood beneath the hero and snarled. It was more gutteral, more animalistic than could come from a human throat.

"Yes, I do. He is mine." Black Hat replied.

"The League. Wants him." Blood now trickled from the Mammoth Cat's mouth.

"Oh? For what exactly?" There was no answer forthcoming, so Black Hat pulled the tentacles from the wall. Still keeping the hero hooked, he lowered the man down. "You will tell your League that Flug is mine and is staying here. And the next one of you to enter my home or to attack my scientist, will die." Removing the tentacles from one side of the man's body, he used the rest to launch the Mammoth Cat through the busted doorway. He sailed over the descent of the hill and passed the fence, landing hard in the street.

A breath, and Black Hat recalled the tentacles and snapped his fingers, rebuilding the entranceway.

"Flug." Black Hat sat at a table, months later, reading the paper. Flug was about to sit across from him, a bowl of something edible in his hands.

"Yes Boss?" Flug replied cautiously as he sat. He set the bowl softly down in front of him.

"You know that I am trying to comprehend the meaning of some of your human language." Flug paused before taking off the bag.

"You are?" He was incredulous. That annoyed Black Hat.

"Yes." He hissed. He nearly bit the tip of his tongue off when he tried to calm himself. "I want to understand the meaning of a word."

"What is it sir?" Flug asked as he brought a spoon up to his mouth.

"What is the meaning behind the word faggot?" The spoon fell free as if from nerveless hands, and clattered onto the table. Black Hat folded his newspaper closed, folded it again in half, and laid it on the table.

When he looked at Flug, he found the doctor's face had drained.

"I take it you know this word." Black Hat said. Flug blinked, shook his head, and picked up his spoon.

"It's a derogatory word for men who, like men." Flug muttered.

"Ah, yes, romance. I keep forgetting that your species makes mating complicated." Black Hat leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and looked at Flug.

"So you like men?" Black Hat asked. Flug choked on his food and slammed the spoon down. When his throat cleared, he pushed roughly away from the table and stood.

"I am not answering that." Flug muttered. Black Hat just looked at him.

"You don't have to. I was just wondering if there was any truth to what your, former business partners were saying." He said.

"That's my business." Flug retorted. Black Hat stood swiftly and held out his hands as a gesture of peace.

"Fine, fine. I didn't mean to disturb your breakfast. I will leave you alone." Black Hat moved around the table and passed Flug to get to the doorway. Flug, against better judgement, reached out and grabbed Black Hat's coat.

"Do you care? About any of that?" He asked. His voice came out thick and it was enough to make Black Hat pause.

"I care so very little about anything." Black Hat answered, sounding bored. Flug released his grip on the coat.

"Then why are you here? Why stay in a place you hate?"

"Because where I come from, there isn't anything to even hate. I'd rather have this miserable existence than nothing." Black Hat turned and removed his monocle, showing Flug his empty and devouring socket. "And I'm more monster than man, so why should I care?"

In the darkness, cradling the thin body of his scientist, Black Hat stroked the other man's hair.

"So what, then, is the term for a man who likes to lie with monsters?" He whispered.

The doctor's alarm started to bleat and the man groaned. As his arm stretched out to hit the button, a thick limb slammed down on it, shattering the clock to pieces. The black limb slithered back while the thin pale one hovered in the air.

"Boss?" Came the shaky question. Black Hat pressed his clawed fingertips into Flug's chest and hip as he pulled him closer.

"Sleep well little doctor?" Black Hat whispered. Flug lowered his arm and Black Hat could feel his heart spasm in his chest. Caught between fear and desire, Flug's muscles twitched as his body tried to decide what to do.

"Yes, I did." Flug tried to turn, but stopped as Black Hat's claws grazed the skin. "Was that you sir?"

"I don't deal with dreams Flug. Only desire." He breathed in the warm scent of Flug's skin. "Should we make another deal?"

"That is terrifying sir." Flug said and Black Hat chuckled. He released Flug and the man sat up, easing himself out of bed. He kept his back to Black Hat and tugged down his t-shirt. Black Hat slithered out of the bed and oozed around to face Flug.

"Not so terrifying I think." Black Hat remarked as he eyed the man's erection straining against the front of his shorts. Flug blushed and bent down to pick up his jeans from yesterday. As he pulled them on, Black Hat replaced his own clothes. Shirt, tie, vest, gloves, hat. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and turned back to Flug. T-shirt, jeans, lab coat, gloves, and paper bag. The man was sloppy.

"I need to get started on my work." Flug said. He walked past Black Hat, but was grasped at his upper arm.

"I have a project for Slys." Black Hat said. Flug sighed and he went limp in Black Hat's grasp.

"Get me whatever notes you have on it and I'll get started when I can." Flug said, sounding defeated. Black Hat released the scientist like he was flicking water from his fingers.

"Try to eat something beforehand my little doctor." Black Hat stayed in Flug's room as the other man walked out into the lab.

He didn't like being ignored. He didn't like not being obeyed. But to threaten, or debase the scientist wouldn't be rooted in what Black Hat wanted. It would simply be another instance in a long line of abuses.

So he had to use a gentler hand.

With a sniff, Black Hat went to the bed and tossed back the blanket. He straightened the flat sheet, smoothing his hands over the edges. Then he replaced the blanket, snapping it over the length of the bed and watched it slowly settle. The pillows were centered and Black Hat brushed away an errant thread.

He curled one hand under his chin and the other went to his hip as he examined the bed. It was small, cramped, and not at all comfortable. But it served its purpose well enough.

Black Hat, who had no need of sleep, had a bed. A behemoth of a thing carved from dark wood that was older than any living thing should ever dare to reach. As per his standard colors, the sheets and blankets were all in some pattern of red and black. Everything was down. Completely uncomfortable to most humans, Black Hat liked when physical objects allowed for a more enveloping sensation.

It's why he liked being buried. Or in water.

The large clawed bathtub he kept was testament to that.

Black Hat shook himself and sent a running tendril out into the lab. Flug was still out there, having not gotten breakfast, and he felt annoyed. Black Hat dissipated enough to become a roiling cloud and pushed himself up toward the ceiling. He reached with thin arm-like strands through the cracks and squeezed through.

His bedroom was directly over Flug's, as it was often the quietest when Demencia was in residence. Round hovering robots attended him, and Black Hat grabbed one roughly while setting his top hat over another.

"Show me the lab." Black Hat said and began to loosen the knot of his tie. The back of the robot he held had a screen, and it illuminated with a blue electric light as it turned on. The edges of the screen rippled but snapped into place with a view of the lab. Flug was hunched over the counter, his gloves discarded on the floor.

He did that when he needed to work with precise instruments.

"Move over." Black Hat said and tossed his tie at the hatted robot. The image on the screen shifted and he knew that the camera in the lab had skittered to a new angle.

Flug wasn't doing anything particularly interesting; he held a thin screwdriver in his hand as he worked on a joint of a flat tripod base. It was his timeout ball, a commission.

Black Hat focused on the man's thin fingers. Flug held the screwdriver the same way he held a scalpel, somehow lightly but forcefully at the same time. They were precise fingers. They could find a pulse quickly and apply just enough pressure. They could squeeze into the cricoid cartilage, which was Black Hat's preferred form of strangulation.

Suddenly, the screen went blue and Black Hat flexed his fingers to restrain himself from crushing the robot in his hand. 5.0.5 was always close to his creator.

Black Hat should've unloaded the thing when it was small and not so obviously, good.

But Flug liked him so it stayed.

As long as his mad scientist was happy.

Black Hat tossed away the robot and focused more on disrobing. He had an appointment with some third string villain in a few hours and he wanted to indulge in some sensory overload.

What was the point of having a physical body if he didn't push every boundary it had?

Ultimately, he ended up in the bath. Demencia had given him a bag of bath bombs after they turned out to not be what she expected, and he found them interesting. He didn't have the olfactory system that humans had, preferring to pick up tastes and smells from his skin. It helped with the bath, because the essential oils released from the fizzing balls became a mix of tactile, scent, and taste stimulation.

It was during times like this where he wondered where the line between hedonism and evil really was. The local satanist church was just a population of hedonists that were too afraid of the feminine to call themselves pagans.

Black Hat dismissed the thought as he always did, not really caring. His reputation was solid and he wasn't bothered about his personal habits.

It only got annoying when they were interrupted.

"HOLY SHIT BOSS." The door to his bathroom was kicked open and Demencia barreled in.

This is why he still kept the bowler hat on.

"What is it Demencia." Black Hat seethed and leaned back against the edge of the tub. Demencia grinned and leaned on the wet floor beside him.

"I found someone to poke around the League. But he wants something." She said and draped her arm over the edge of the tub, submerging most of her forearm in the water. Laying her head on her upper arm, she trailed her fingers over the stray tentacle that crossed her path. Black Hat frowned but otherwise ignored it.

"Of course, they always do. Who is it?" Black Hat asked. Demencia rolled her head back and she stared up at the ceiling.

"The Troubadour." Her head fell sideways and she looked at him, her eyes wide. She always looked half-crazed, until she actually went crazy.

"What does he want?" Black Hat pressed.

"Protection. And a year's worth of free commissions." Demencia said. Black Hat hissed in annoyance and looked away. He didn't want to lose money on this, and both of those requests would result in a significant net loss.

"He's a no rate villain. How does he even think he's capable of getting the information I want?" Black Hat muttered, mostly to himself. His mind itched as Demencia continued to stroke one of the tentacles. Snapping, he turned to her and hissed again, a more mammalian kind with open jaws.

Demencia grinned in return but removed her hand, instead clinging to the edge with both.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"Play with him a bit. Remind him that he's not in any sort of position to make some demands. If he gives me any worthwhile information, then I will protect him. And he can get first bid on any new inventions for eighteen months. After I get what I want." Black Hat said, stressing his point. Demencia yawned open mouthed and then nodded.

"I'm gonna sleep for a bit and then head out." She replied and stood, pushing herself up quickly.

"And the club Demencia?" Black Hat inquired. Demencia absently scratched at her head.

"Nothing yet. It's a club. People go in. Some of them wear awful costumes." She answered. Black Hat groaned.

"Thank you Demencia. I want you to head out as soon as possible." He said.

"Yup. Right after I warm up." She marched out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Black Hat groaned and sank more into the water, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He sometimes wondered if it was a mistake to get Flug to make her.

The embryo had been so promising.

After his meeting, Black Hat walked into the lab and tossed down a stack of papers next to where Flug was working. Flug didn't even bother to glance at it.

"The Slys project?" The scientist asked as he examined something under a microscope. Black Hat turned to lean against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"When you have the time. It's more a curiosity than something I'm looking to market." Black Hat answered. That caught Flug's interest. Black Hat usually didn't request projects that weren't supposed to result in commercial distribution. Flug sat up on his stool and grabbed the papers. He had set aside the paper bag - it usually got in the way when he was using optical instruments - and Black Hat studied the man's face as the man studied the work.

Flug was moderately attractive, for a human. Black Hat was bored with most things, except for shoebills, but he recognized the aesthetic pleasure of Flug's face. Even the slight crookedness to his nose only added to the overall character.

"This is just an android?" Flug remarked and glanced up. He saw Black Hat staring and he looked away quickly. Black Hat reached out and flipped his thumb over the edges of the stack of papers.

"I want to see how difficult it would be to integrate the electrical components on a living subject. No reanimating dead flesh or creating synthetic muscle." Black Hat explained.

"That's not ethical." Flug muttered quickly.

"Now my little doctor, when did we start to care about ethics?" Black Hat said, moving his hand from the papers to under Flug's chin. He gently urged the scientist to look at him, and he gave what he thought was his most sincere smile.

"How about a deal? You can pick the requirements for the subject, since we both know Slys won't care." Black Hat said. Flug glared up at him, his gaze oddly sharp.

"And what do you get out of this?" He shot back. Black Hat tightened his grip on Flug's chin, and his smile became more predatory.

"Only the joy of watching you work." He answered. Flug took in a sharp breath and his pupils dilated. Pleasure rolled off Flug and Black Hat laughed when the scientist batted away his hand. "I did promise you possibilities you couldn't imagine." Black Hat continued. Flug clutched the edge of the counter and hunched over, his face turned away.

"Have you infected me with this?" Flug asked. Black Hat chuckled and slid around to Flug's back.

"This was in you from the beginning my little doctor. I'm just letting it out." Tendrils, less heavy than the tentacles, reached out and wrapped around Flug's body. They kept his hands on the counter and held his head in place. Black Hat approached and put his hands on Flug's shoulders.

"Aren't you happy?" Black Hat asked. The tendrils turned Flug's face as far as it would go and Black Hat reveled in the weak look in Flug's eye.

"Yes Boss." He said. Black Hat dipped his head in and lightly caressed the man's lips with his own. When Flug opened his mouth, Black Hat leaned in and caught the scientist's lower lip between his teeth. Even biting down gently, the tips of his fangs punctured the softer flesh almost immediately. Blood flowed over Black Hat's tongue and he deepened the kiss. Flug struggled under his bonds but Black Hat held him fast.

Black Hat swallowed the blood and broke away with a smile. Flug was gasping. Releasing the tendrils, Black Hat ran them down the length of the other man's body before reabsorbing them. Flug was still bleeding, so Black Hat pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to him. Flug took it and pressed it to his mouth.

"Can you give me a name Flug?" Black Hat asked softly. Flug held his stare for a moment and then turned away, shaking his head.

Black Hat roared and flipped a table over as he left the room.