They had bought eighty dollars' worth of New York's finest pizza and three pay-per-view movies that night, all conveniently charged to the credit card account of Dr. Gregory Killibrew. He was right; pizza did the trick, because Vanessa had fallen into a carb-induced coma well before the end of the third movie. The alarm in the bedroom was blaring when she rolled off the couch the following morning. It took a full forty-five minutes of strategic make up to cover the dark bruise under her eye and even then, it was still visible. She had no choice but to brush her bangs over her face and brush her teeth in a hurry, thinking up an excuse in case anyone saw her black eye.
There were thirty-two messages in her voicemail-box due to the Governor's numerous missed conference calls and appointments. She shook her head as she pressed the button to release them.
"Vanessa, Jerry," a man's voice blared out of the phone box, "Just letting you know I got your message. We're good to reschedule for next Friday."
Delete.
"This is your Staples representative reminding you that our sale on office paper ends this-!"
"Yeah, yeah," Vanessa whispered to herself, jabbing the delete button.
"Vanessa."
The second she heard Gregory's rasping voice echo through the office she wrenched the phone off the receiver to silence the speaker.
"Vanessa please call me," he sounded terrible coming through the phone receiver, his voice low and full of grief, "Please. I need to talk to you."
Delete.
"Vanessa its Greg. Again."
Delete. Delete. Delete.
She was shaking when she pulled her cellphone out of her purse, realizing she hadn't even glanced at it since she spoke with Pepper Friday evening. Thirty-seven missed calls.
The phone rang.
Her hand hovered over the phone for three rings before she picked up.
"Hello?"
"Don't hang up," sure enough, the Senator's voice came through eagerly. He sounded better now, more like the Greg she remembered.
"I don't have time for this, I'm at work."
"Vanessa, please, just hear me out."
She was quiet. He took it as an invitation to speak, "Listen, the grand opening of the Lucifer House is tomorrow."
"So?"
"It's a televised event. I was hoping that I might, well," he sounded uncomfortable, "that I might bring you as my date."
"You're kidding."
"I wish I was," he said gruffly, "I haven't gotten a chance to handle the press and, well, I'm an unmarried Republican Senator, Vanessa. I know," he went on, "I don't deserve it but I'm asking just this one favor, so that I might make this transition a little easier. For the both of us.
Vanessa bit her lip. It was hard to imagine Greg as the person he was the night prior. Part of her wanted to tell him how badly she missed him, and that their bed was lonely without him. But the other part was scarred from fury, beyond repair.
"If we don't do this," he said, seemingly sensing her debacle, "You'll never get a break from the news stations."
He had a point. Vanessa had a choice: she could either deal with New York's invasive News Paper's or she could bite the bullet and stand next to the Senator in a perfectly public setting.
"Alright," she said, letting out the air from her chest, "I'll go."
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It was a brilliantly sunny Tuesday afternoon, perfect for a stroll around the Versailles inspired gardens of the Lucifer house. The roses were in full bloom, brilliant against the butter-yellow of the Manor, and the clouds behind the hill on which it stood seemed to be naught but decorative cotton. For the public opening of the house, they had stretched a navy ribbon across the door, to be cut by the Governor. But the Governor was still missing, and so it was Mayor Bloomberg that appeared on the scene to cut the ribbon with Senator Killibrew.
Vanessa had donned a white sundress complete with little white gloves and a winning smile. A fake smile, of course. There was nothing she hated more than standing out in the heat wearing a thousand dollars' worth of white linen to be with a man who had left a bruise the size of an egg on her face. Shiner indeed.
But Gregory had offered to pay for an air-brush touch up of her make-up, and she took it without thought. The last thing she wanted, ever, was to be the center of New York's attention. And yet she signed up to date a Senator.
I'm such a hypocrite.
As they gathered near the front of the house, she and Gregory climbing the platform there, she pondered what Deadpool possibly could have meant the night prior. The Lucifer House was as calm and bright as had been promised; the only sound coming from the grounds was the occasional buzzing of a bee. Gregory began his speech. She relaxed, fanning herself slightly as the bright sun beat down on her hair. Soon this would be over, and she could be free of the Senator. Her mind had wandered so far from the ribbon cutting that she almost didn't comprehend what was happening when the Senator bent on one knee in front of her and pulled a diamond out of his pocket.
Gregory's lips moved but all Vanessa heard was a whining ring in her ears as she realized she had been deceived. He had trapped her in public, knowing full well she could not refuse in front of the press without repercussions she was not willing to risk. His eyes locked on hers, a sick look of triumph painted across his face. Now you are mine, it said.
She nodded helplessly, acknowledging this defeat. Behind them there was cheering from the crowd. In the heat of the sun, a trickle of sweat dripped down Gregory's face. Beneath the façade of well-placed make up his skin was grotesque, black and blue from the abuse that couldn't save her from this mess. The ribbon was cut, the ends fluttering in the now stifling field. If she acted fast, she could hang herself from one of the navy ends. Greg moved to embrace her.
His voice was low and hot in her ear, "Tell your friend if I ever see him again, he's going to pay."
Far away, the sky was changing from cerulean to chalky grey. A storm was coming in.
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That night the sky was rolling with the beginnings of a storm, thunder rumbling in the oncoming clouds. Dr. Killibrew hunched over the pallid glow of his computer, in the dark basement of the Lucifer house, scrolling through page after page of US Government social security files.
"The electrical fence destroyed, my face ruined," he said with each slam on the keyboard, "Right before a televised event."
At the table behind him, Governor Thorton inserted a vile of milky-white liquid into a surgical needle. His hand shook slightly, weak from the weeks of injections. They had come to the final, but Thorton's body had not taken well to the drugs. His hair was dirty and limp, large bags had formed under his grey eyes, "And now you have his name. Sacrifices must be made on our climb to glory."
"What use is it? There's nothing on him in the government databases," Killibrew scowled at the computer, banging his first on the desk, "No immigration record, gun permits, nothing."
"Patience," Ray growled, "Revenge will come soon enough."
"I want him dead," Killibrew said standing, facing the small window that looked up and out into the storm.
"I assure you," the Governor said calmly, "Once the transformation is complete, he will be the first to punish."
Gregory nodded curtly, turning from the window and crossing to the other man, gesturing for his arm. The Governor obliged, stoic-faced as he was stuck with the needle. There was a crash of thunder from above.
"This had better work."
Killibrew paled, but nodded, "It must. There is no alternative. Now if we just let the injection run its course before we-"
"There's no time," Thornton stood, towering over the Senator.
Killibrew grew frantic, "According to my calculations the possible repercussions of the procedure without the drugs could produce extreme pain for the subject!"
"This great of power is not for the weak," Thornton stood.
"Are you sure you want to do this, we could find another for the trial there are plenty captive upstairs?"
Thornton crossed to the great door on the wall of the laboratory and wrenched it open, turning back to Killibrew a final time, "Prepare the house."
A great clap of thunder echoed overhead. The rain began, hammering down upon the grand yellow house, slapping up against the windows. Within the chamber, Thorton had opened the great slabs of rubber that lined the walls and door silenced it. In the center was an enclosed metal chair; above it was a great mass of rubber wires, each ended with a plug of surgical needles.
Killibrew donned his lab glasses and hurried after the large man who had stripped down to his underwear. With the click of a catch, he swung the doors surrounding the chair open. There was a hiss as the metal harness rose.
Thorton clambered wordlessly into the seat, strapping himself in, and pulling the harness down around his head and shoulders.
"Heart rate," Killibrew felt the thick wrist of the Governor, "Stable."
"Blood pressure…Stable."
"Cell status," with a quick prick of the finger, he gathered a drop of blood from the Governor's finger, "Stable. Subject stable."
He swung the doors inwards and turned the dial. There was a sucking sound as the doors sealed themselves shut. Now the only part of Ray visible was his face.
Killibrew moved to the great control panel that stood in front of the pod. He flicked the main power key, turning all dials to the on position. The room darkened, save for the pulsing of the multi-colored control buttons, "Initiating fusion."
The wire panels began their slow decent to the pod on two mechanical arms. Thorton flexed his fists as the needles found their way inside the chamber, inserting them evenly over his skin.
"Raising electro-rod."
He reached for a bar lever and pushed it forward slowly. Far above, on the roof of the house, a pair of doors opened and a great metal lightning rod ascended into the air.
"Beginning fusion sequence."
Killibrew's hand hovered over the largest button, pulsating and green in the shadowy room. For a brief moment, the two men locked eyes. Ray nodded, eyes flashing with adrenaline.
He pressed the button.
Greg's body hair raised almost immediately as electric charge filled the room. Above the pod, the machine whirred to action as the lightening rod sensed the electrical activity.
Suddenly it was struck. Greg watched anxiously as electric discharge appeared on the wires above, buzzing as they flashed into patterns of blue and white. The spats of discharge grew wide, wider than Greg had ever seen them, soon filling the chamber with its own lightning storm. He ducked, slightly horrified, as an arm of electricity zapped overhead.
Inside the pod, Ray's body began to shake. There was a horrible noise, the chatter of teeth and the crackling of hair and clothing: the sound of a person being electrocuted.
The governor began to scream. He was indecipherable now, the pod filled with a brilliant, white centered light.
"No!" Killibrew reached for the emergency stop button and slammed his hand upon it. But it was too late, the sequence was too far in. Through the ear splitting sound of static, the alarm system began to blare. The discharge was too much; Killbrew dived for the door to save himself as the room filled with blinding flashes, ducking as he wrenched it open. With the full force of his body, he slammed the metal door shut, slamming down the latch. He collapsed against the far wall, hidden by metal lab tables. The roar of the machine from inside the room overcame the horrible sound of the Governor screaming as it surged on.
There was a sound like a thousand lasers firing at once, so loud that Gregory ducked beneath a table, the lights from the computer and the ceiling flickering above. Then all was quiet.
"W-What have I done," Greg whispered into the darkness, his body shaking, "What have I done."
Gregory slumped against the table, dry sobs wracking his body as the realization of his partner's death passed over him.
Boom.
The Senator sat up as the table he was leaning against trembled with the force of something moving within the room.
Boom.
It was coming from inside the fusion chamber. In the sudden silence, Greg raised his head over the table, trembling.
BOOM.
Suddenly the huge door dented from the inside out, the metal latch whining as it strained against the force. He ducked slightly.
"What the-"
The door crashed open. Gregory flew backwards, shielding his eyes against the brilliant light coming from the doorway, his hair cracking with static as his hand brushed against it. As the realization of what he was seeing passed over him, his eyes widened, mouth changing from shock to a grotesque look of terror. He cowered against the wall.
"Oh my god."