Hearts of Steel
"You sure this is a good idea?" The redheaded henchman asked nervously in his nasally voice.
"Of course!" The mohawked leader responded confidently. "This place is still a total wreck after that rampage that destroyed it not too long ago. It's totally sealed off with minimal security. They'll never suspect someone trying to steal the rare Arabian Iguana after such a disaster!"
"Is it really that rare, though? What if they won't pay up?"
"Oh, they will. They will." The punk responded confidently. "Of course, if you'd rather back out now, be my guest." He slowly leaned out from behind the tree and observed the walled-off gate.
"No, no! I want some of that money, too. Pappy needs it for the medical bills…He doesn't have much longer, and if I had to go the rest of my life without him…" He choked briefly.
"Then you're in?"
A pause. "As long as they can't trace me back to the actual crime of stealing it. Right?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever. You just need to stand guard and watch for any suspicious activity, OK? You're the eyes and ears, and I'm the guy who goes for the iguana. That good enough?"
"Yeah, yeah…that's good."
"Then let's go!"
And with that, the two delinquents began quickly sneaking across the grass, leaping over the wall and landing softly within the zoo walls.
"Which way?"
"Sh! This way." The punk whispered.
The two of them constantly switched between sneaking across open areas and dodging behind objects or foliage as the occasional guard came along.
Soon, though, they eventually arrived at the small cage containing the iguana. A small, green creature that looked like any ordinary iguana, only with some brown intermixed with the green.
"There it is." The mohawked teen stated with amusement.
"That's it? That's the rare Arabian Iguana that you say is worth over a million?"
"With only 6 known in the world, yes." He replied confidently. "Now back away and keep an eye out over a good perimeter, while I go to work."
"OK."
The redhead slowly backed away, maintaining a solid distance between himself and the man who had recruited him a day earlier.
As the criminal went to work on the bars, he shook his head with a sigh. Man, that redneck is ANNOYING. I miss Carv and his gang…although this guy is better than that other farmboy loser…
The more innocent teen looked around for any signs of activity, before stopping at a series of construction scaffoldings nearby.
Hmm. That'll provide a great vantage point. This should impress that prison trash a little more.
And with that, he began climbing up the scaffolding, which wobbled ever so slightly as he did so.
Just as he reached the top of the scaffolding, however, he heard a shout below and nearby.
"Hey! STOP!"
"Crap! NEVER!"
Then, to his horror, gunshots.
"What? Oh, no, no, no, no, NO…"
He slowly backed away from the direction of the confrontation between his partner and the guard, going into full-blown panic mode as he contemplated his options.
But just then, he suddenly heard a whooshing sound, and a loud thump as something landed on the scaffolding behind him.
"Huh?!" He spun around to face the caped figure.
"Hostman?!"
"The one and only. We managed to intercept the communications between you and Duncan. A shame that someone like you with no criminal record is now associated with the most notorious juvenile in all of Toronto."
"No, no, PLEASE…NO! I can explain! I never wanted to harm anyone…I just needed the money!"
"You criminals are all the same, no matter the motivation." Hostman then slowly began advancing towards him.
"NO!" And with that, Scott charged forward and tackled Hostman, knocking them both over on the scaffolding.
Scott struggled on top of Hostman, repeatedly throwing one blow after another. But Hostman effortlessly tossed him off with a lift of his legs, and Scott flew over him and slid face-first across the wood. As he screeched to a halt, he got a brief glimpse of which exhibit was underneath the scaffolding.
The shark tank.
"WAH!" He screamed as he jumped backward and leapt to his feet. "No, no!"
He turned to face Hostman, who slowly rose to his feet as well.
"No, please! At least let me off of here!"
"What, afraid of heights, are we? You remind me of some other goon of Duncan's that I took care of an a high place…"
"NO!"
Then, in a single swift movement, he charged forward at Scott. Scott tossed a punch, but Hostman ducked under it and grabbed his arm in mid-air. Twisting his arm around so that his back was to him, Hostman delivered a swift kick to Scott's backside and knocked him off the edge.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
His scream was cut off by a loud splash.
Hostman then finally looked over the edge and realized what he had carelessly knocked the henchman into.
"Oooooooh…Ouch."
He then turned to the direction that the shots had come from, hearing nothing in the area now. From his vantage point, though, he could see a bright light shining against the cage where the iguana was.
Hostman wasted no time in grappling off the scaffolding and swinging down towards the cage.
When he arrived, he saw the one thing he hoped to not see: The guard, lying dead on the ground, his gun missing, and his flashlight lying on the ground aimed at the empty cage and its few destroyed bars in the front.
And no sign of Duncan or the iguana.
With a curse, Hostman quickly disappeared from the zoo, having failed once again to catch the elusive Duncan.
…
He moved slowly through the zoo, towards the sounds of the screams, the shots, and the punches. He was close, he knew…close to finally meeting his old foe for the first time and getting his revenge.
He stopped and hid behind the foliage when he suddenly saw a redheaded figure go flying off of the scaffolding, plummeting into the shark tank. He glanced up and saw Hostman, staring down at his latest victim, turn and swing away on his grappling hook without even a glance back in remorse.
Through the glass pane that covered most of the side of the tank, he could see the mayhem unfolding in the shark tank as two of them were almost immediately on the helpless victim.
In the heat of the moment, he debated whether or not he should go for Hostman or save the victim, knowing that it would only make one more ally for himself in his crusade against the vigilante.
After a few more seconds, the robotic mechanism fired up, and it propelled through the air until it was hovering directly over the tank. It extended one arm down into the tank, briefly retracting its metal claws for a plunger, and reached down into the water until it pressed up against the redhead's cranium. It then quickly retracted the arm as it simultaneously propelled upward, away from the shark tank.
As it flew through the air, he looked down at his victim. Even for the few seconds he was in there, he was still horribly mauled and mangled.
I'd better get back fast. He thought. If he could fix me as fast as he did, he could surely fix this guy…
…
He could barely tell what was going on. It hurt to so much as even try to move his head. He could barely feel certain parts of his body, including his right leg, left arm, and most of his stomach area.
He could, however, hear some muffled, waning voices.
"…at happened?" A lighter, softer voice asked.
"…ound him…ark tank…ostman pushed him in…" The deep, metallic voice replied.
"…onna have to amputate…ere and here…"
Scott was now staring directly up into a bright light, where two dark figures were silhouetted. One was very small and skinny, while the other was large and boxy.
"…tiseptic and morphine, immediately!"
"…ang in there…our name?"
He slowly moaned.
The large, boxy head leaned in close, revealing its metallic, robotic face. It repeated its question again in the deep, intimidating voice.
"What is your name?"
"Scott…Uh…Scott Black."
"OK…we're gonna put you to sleep for just a little while. You may be feeling down, but we can ease the pain and get you back on your feet again."
Then the other voice chimed in as its head, still silhouetted by the light, appeared over him. "Just relax…we'll need some information first. Just the basic facts…can you tell us where it hurts?"
"My…my leg…right leg…"
"Alright. Apply this, please." The lighter voice told the boxy figure as he handed it a needle.
"And…left arm…below the elbow…"
"Got it." The smaller figure withdrew another needle and turned to his boxy partner.
"Inject them at the same time, on my count, OK?"
"Sure."
"OK, it'll be just a little pinprick…you may feel a little…"
Then both needles were injected, and Scott suddenly jerked his head back as he screamed in pain.
"Now you'll no longer feel any pain, OK?"
Scott groaned. "Ah…now there's no pain…you're both receding…"
"That's…fect of the…rphine…" The lighter voice informed him. "You…come very, very numb…"
"I...I felt this way...before..."
"...ike we said…just relax…elax…lax…"
As his vision grew blurry, as the light seemed to grow larger and brighter, the voices continued on in the background, coming through in waves.
"…ill he…ble to stand up…?"
"…on't know…"
"…u have…acement?"
"…es…"
…
He slowly looked around, from the face of his very concerned mother to the loving, smiling face of his grandfather.
"What's wrong with me, Pappy?" The young Scott asked from his bed, the thermometer hanging limply from his mouth.
"Not to worry, Scotty Bear." His grandfather responded. "It's a very, very common case of the basic fever. How do you feel right now?"
"Very, very hot..." He whined. "...and my hands...I can't feel them...they're like balloons with no air in them." He started to pull his arms out from under the blanket.
"No, no, no." His grandfather cut off, pressing down on the blanket and lightly holding down his grandson's arms. "Just stay under the covers and sweat it out."
"OK, Pappy..."
The kind old man turned to his daughter. "Don't worry, Karen. I've seen plenty worse overseas. They trained me for ailments like this on the first day. He'll be just fine."
"Thank God."
...
"Pappy, what's wrong?!" A panicked, perfectly healthy Scott asked nervously.
"It...(cough)...it's just a fever, Scotty Bear. I'll be fine."
"The fever? Did I give it to you?!"
"Oh...probably...but it's no big deal. Don't you worry about me, and don't you feel guilty either, you understand?"
The young Scott fought back a single tear. "...Y...yes, sir..."
...
Hours seemed to have passed before he finally regained consciousness, lifting his head up to try and look around.
He could now clearly see the two figures standing before him. One was a massive robot, with a large, boxy body and smaller, boxy head, with a mouth, two eyes, and a needle below the mouth, as well as two large tubular arms and four small wheels below it.
The other was a small, short, skinny figure who kept its face hidden in the shadows.
"Alright, he should be doing relatively better now."
"He looks terrible." The robot responded in a deep, metallic voice.
"Despite his overall body being much more contained, I assure you he shall have just as much mobility as you do. He can fly, move rapidly in multiple directions, and even…"
"Wait. He's awake!" The robot suddenly noticed.
"He is?"
Scott turned to the shorter figure, who was clearly in charge.
What's going on? He wanted to speak, but for some reason, he couldn't move his mouth. But even then, he could hear a deep, equally dark and metallic voice ask the question for him, emitting from his chest area. What? Was that MY voice?
"Not to worry…we've taken care of the wounds and have placed your body inside a new robotic suit."
The head looked down, and saw that where the rest of his body had been, was now just a tall metal box, also on wheels.
What?!
"Yeah…I know this may seem shocking, but it's all we could do for you."
My body…my original body…
"It's all contained within that box, as mangled and not pretty as it is. But this new suit shall provide you with increased mobility, including the ability to fly…and with technology similar to that used by Stephen Hawking, you can use the suit's voice to speak for you, since your facial nerves are mostly paralyzed. Just using your brainwaves alone will send a signal to the suit that will transmit your thoughts into words without moving your mouth.…and if you want, as your friend here has suggested, we could attach some weaponry to your suit as well."
The head turned towards the other robot.
My friend? Who are you?
"I was once the greatest teenage celebrity in all of Canada…Alejandro Ramirez."
You? YOU were Alejandro Ramirez? Yeah, right!
Then, suddenly, the suit moved forward, dropping off the small platform and moving towards the two who had fixed him up. But you disappeared after the bank robbery! We all saw it on TV!
"Yes…Yes I did…" It turned its head to the side briefly. "My body was crushed, burned, and mangled in the process. Hostman and Pythonicus tried to make it up to me by taking me back to their hideout and putting me inside this body to replace my old one, just as we did with you…I was in such shock that I fled in a rage without looking back…without taking note of where their hideout was."
Smart.
"But I eventually, through the appropriate underground channels, managed to find this individual here…" He gestured to the short figure. "…who improved my suit even more, giving me the power I needed to take revenge on my greatest foe…the one who did not save me when I was crushed and burned and twisted and broken…I was about to take my revenge when I saw him send you plunging into the shark tank."
Shark tank…yes…I remember now…I was in the shark tank?!
"Yes. I managed to save you, knowing you could make a valuable ally, as we now share the same motivation…the same hatred for Hostman, who took away our human bodies and put us both into these…He turned me into…Darth Mauled."
Really? You gave yourself a new name?
"All the better to hide my secret identity. And we shall call you…"
In that moment, it turned one of the panels on the front of its robotic body inside-out, revealing a mirror so that Scott could finally see himself. He finally saw the full image of his head, hanging rather limply off the top of the tall robotic box, with small, wimpy wheels underneath it and no arms.
No…why? I'm completely frozen…stuck in this new shell…frozen…
"Very good!" Mauled replied. "We shall call you, henceforth, from this moment…Mr. Frozen!"
Seriously?
"Hey, you got any better ideas?"
…I guess not.
"So…are you prepared to join me in destroying Hostman?"
You better believe it.
"Very well. We shall continue on with rock-solid determination…and hearts of steel."
Author's Note: Yeah, another shorter chapter, and another origin story. This time, it involves one of my all-time favorite characters from the TDR cast, who suffered pretty much the exact same fate as Alejandro: Scott.
Next: The return of Hostman and Pythonicus's archival, with another crazy scheme.