Here it is, guys. A little something I've been working on. I figured since it's been almost a year since I wrote anything for Huniepop that I'd really go all out for this one. You guys like superheroes right? Well this is my take! Welcome to 'Behind the Mask'. A (hopefully) short story of a few chapters where we delve into the superhero lives of Huniepop's characters. Lets begin shall we?
Behind the Mask
Issue I (Mystic)
(M)
Glenberry. The Neon City. Population one-hundred-thousand. A place of idolized heroes and wicked villains. It used to be a student town until the wealthy Kane Industries finished buying up the last of the business and points of interest. Now it stood tall as a beacon of arts and talents. A hub for aspiring young musicians and creatives. And with great opportunity came great risk. Thankfully, that's where she came in.
Her name was Miss Mystic. The resident good girl of beautiful Glenberry. An honor student on a Kane Industries scholarship by day. A beacon of kindness and justice by night. It was one heck of a task keeping an entire city safe, but someone had to do it.
Especially tonight of all nights.
Tiffany Maye kept watch over the television screen - alert as ever for any signs of trouble. The gravity of the special event was larger than life; for both Miss Maye's hero persona and the girl behind the mask.
Channel Five's Christie Carmine was already well into her opening report on the sell-out show.
"Tonight marks the debut of solo sensation Mike Winters' new 'Destiny' album. The handsome lounge singer shot to stardom early this year with hits like 'Firefly' and 'Hold me Tight'. His place as one of Glenberry's finest was cemented when he announced his long-suspected relationship with aspiring young actress and single mother, Kyanna Delrio-"
The blonde muted the news report and wiped the sweat from her brow. Her skin felt clammy; her heart thumped at double pace.
"Calm down, Tiffany. They have a security detail. You spoke with the Mayor Wankstien... Everything's going to be alright."
The most important part of being a superhero was keeping those pesky personal feelings in check. She'd read enough of Nikki's comic book collection to drum the golden rule into her head. But it was never that easy - least of all now. Her childhood crush and one of her best friends were going to be on stage together in front of thousands of people. Kyanna and Mike... singing together.
Kyanna Delrio - a gorgeous latina lady and talented actress. She first started out wearing chicken suits during ad breaks. Her luck changed after landing the lead role in a hit online soap opera aimed at the student crowd 'All My Lovers'. Before Kyanna's famous days Tiffany often babysat for her young son Philly. The two remained close and still spent time together between Kyanna's various on-screen roles.
Mike Winters was a far more... complicated story. He began as Tiffany's playmate during her childhood days. His uncle James and her mom Jessie almost had an affair. Years later he returned to Glenberry, but not as the little boy she remembered. He'd grown into a tall, blonde; handsome violinist and singer with a gorgeous voice. Swept off her feet, Tiffany fell in love almost right away. A love she still wrestled with to this day.
"I hope they'll be alright..." Tiffany gave her silent screen the equally silent treatment.
Her eyes wandered to the open closet beside her neat single bed.
Hung on the rail was her costume - her mark as one of Glenberry's few and fleeting rays of light; a fancy take on her favorite school uniform. Her shirt had a large 'M' emblazoned upon the chest - with lacy black gloves and striking velvet leggings for contrast. The whole look was finished with a long red cape and an artsy ballroom mask; with special thanks given to Nikki for her arts and crafts skills. Usually her hair was worn loose as well. No over-the-top gimmicks - cute and simple. An outfit for a hero. Most nights Tiffany wore the ensemble with pride. Tonight she prayed for it to stay where it was.
She hated the idea of fighting when her friends were in harm's way.
"Gosh, this is frustrating." Tiffany grabbed for the shiny silver foil ticket on her bedside table - her special invitation to the show. Mike gave it to her the other day, and he'd gone to a lot of trouble. But she couldn't attend as plain old self. Could she? "What do I do?"
She sighed and flopped on the bed, her face buried deep into the pillows. "Any other girl would've been grateful", Mom told her when she was little. "You're special, sweetie. Use your gift to make the world a better place."
It was Jessie's only wish. She too had been a hero at one time. A wish that Tiffany had dedicated her life to fulfilling - at the cost of everything else.
Senior prom was one of the many victims to her life as protector.
The once in a lifetime event was ruined when "Sinistar" (the high school egomaniac) decided he'd hold a teacher hostage over a failed chemistry exam. The supersonic supervillain was really Jeffery - a preppy science fanatic from the grade below. It later came out that he'd blackmailed the faculty into funnelling school funds his way. After his defeat he boldly proclaimed, "I would've built the ultimate death laser if you hadn't meddled. Curse you, Miss Mystic!"
Oh yes - time and again Tiffany had sacrificed the supposed best years of her life. Rewards came in the forms of smiles from those she rescued; of wide-eyed children who snapped pictures after a job well done. Most times she'd accepted her lot in life. It was the way things were for a savior of the weak. Tonight was different. She felt lonely - left out, even though knew she shouldn't have.
She was blessed with Psychokinesis, after all. She could touch others without laying a finger on them, and more. Over time she'd become attuned to her powers. Suspending a fully-loaded shipping crate in mid-air wasn't out of the question if she concentrated hard.
"I mean... I could go... It wouldn't hurt." Tiffany emerged from the pillows and clutched the ticket to her chest.
Kyanna and Mike's concert played out on screen. Fans held up billboards and took pictures with their phones. The Glenberry Arena was alive with smoke and lights and magic. Tiffany yearned to be there more than anything else in the world. If she left now she'd make it in time for the last song - she was sure of it. A single show wouldn't hurt. She'd earned it. Audrey would tell her as much if she were here.
"That settles it." Tiffany rose from the bed and made a beeline for the shower. "You're having a night off, Tiffany Maye."
By the time Tiffany arrived the concert was bouncing. The stadium's roof was pulled back. Smoke and stage lights had the crowd pumped. Mike's buttery smooth voice kept the girls squalling, much to the dislike of Tiffany's green-eyed monster. Kyanna was by his side, providing backing vocals. She'd become quite the singer since the two announced they were officially an item.
The duo stood together on a huge neon-lit stage and sang their hearts out. A dozen cameras were aimed at them from all sides.
All in all, Tiffany had no regrets with hanging up her cape and boots for the night. The energy was outstanding!
The track died down and the music fell low as Mike and Kyanna finished. The crowd called their names in unison, screaming and crying for more. "Kyanna and Mike! Kyanna and Mike!" Tiffany joined them too, alive with delight. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
The cheers became louder. And louder. And louder still.
Mike stepped to the very edge of the stage, tossing his microphone and catching it in a showing of suave for the many thousand fans. He pumped his fist victoriously. "Thank you, Glenberry! It's great to be back here - where I started. And with my leading lady, too. She's great, ain't she? Don't you think she's great?! Give her a hand, would you?"
Kyanna joined Mike, sliding an arm around his middle. She smooched him unapologetically on the lips for everyone to see. The love and devotion in her violet eyes left Tiffany feeling another twinge of jealousy, one she was quick to push aside.
All the while, the chanting for the duo kept on. Spurred by her supporters, Kyanna took charge. Mike saw her excitement and passed the microphone. "You guys are going loco out there. So... How about one more before we go? Lemme hear more of those cheers. Don't be shy! Make em nice and loud!"
The cheers of ecstasy rose to screams!
"Alright! You asked for it! Now let's-"
The sound system cut out without warning. Kyanna's voice fell quiet.
An army-like helicopter flew overhead, suspended above the stadium's open roof. The emblem of an open-mouthed skull with flaming eyes was emblazoned upon the underbelly for all to see. The aircraft's loud whirling blades drowned out the show and left people talking. "Is this part of the act?" Tiffany overheard from the girl nearest to her. "Sure is cool."
"I dunno," answered her friend. "But you're so right. It'd make for one hell of a stage show."
It wouldn't be the first time the celebrity pair pulled a publicity stunt to get the showgoers fired up. They once arrived by plane for a show at a nearby regional airport. Tiffany hoped it was the case today. People were far from alarmed. Lots aimed their cameras upward, waiting for the climax to whatever stunt they thought was planned.
Back at the front, Kyanna's fearful face gave Tiffany the unfortunate answer she needed.
Burly security scrambled onto the stage to protect the VIP singers - all while an announcement sounded over the venue's crackly public address system. "Attention... This is not part of the scheduled show. Please collect your belongings and proceed calmly to the exit nearest to you. I repeat... this is not part of the scheduled show..."
Tiffany's stomach sank like a stone. Gone was the happy-go-lucky college student enjoying a night free of justice and duties. She'd been replaced by an ever-ready fighter for right. A superhero tasked with protecting those who couldn't protect themselves.
An Omega, as the media had coined her kind recently.
Surveying the situation from her place in the crowd, Tiffany thought double-quick about the hows and whys of the situation. A police chopper was supposed to be watching the skies above the arena. She'd organized it the night before under the guise of Miss Mystic. The station chief assured her with hand on heart. How had an unmarked aircraft gotten this close without issue?
Her pondering was cut short when ropes were cast from the sides of the helicopter.
Ladies and gents sporting flashy three-piece red suits descended into the stands. Half a dozen at first; followed by many more rushing in through the venue's entrances and exits shortly after. Their appearances were largely uniform - with gelled-back hairdoes and tacky red shades to match. Almost all of the well-dressed party crashers brandished small weapons - handguns and automatic pistols, while a pair clutched katana swords.
Unrest quickly took hold among the civilians - it always did when firearms came into play.
Having unloaded its quota of evildoers, the helicopter ascended and flew off.
Tiffany felt a shiver down her spine, but tried her best to remain calm. She ticked a mental checklist as the seconds dragged on.
Quickly taking over a crowded area? Check.
Tacky outfits and over the top hairstyles? Yep.
Cheesy logo on their vehicle of choice? That too.
"The work of supervillain," Tiffany whispered under her breath and rolled her eyes. "I'd better hurry."
She'd stashed her disguise in a sports bag inside one of the toilet stalls, just in case. If she was going to suit up and get to work she'd have to act now. The goons were already busy shouting orders and waving their guns about. It wouldn't be long until they locked down the building and closed the roof. So far shots hadn't been fired and the VIPs were safe.
A blessing in more ways than one. They were usually the prime targets in situations like these.
Tiffany used the commotion to her advantage; she was able to escape to the ladies bathroom without much in the way of trouble. Once there she undressed from her shirt, denim shorts and boots. Slipping out of her Tiffany attire and into the skin of Mystic was usually invigorating. Today the sensation was dull and bitter. Dread ran like ice through her veins as she dressed down in the toilet stall.
"I can do this... I can do this..."
Despite her best efforts, her tummy flipped. Tiffany dropped to her knees and lifted the toilet lid. She heaved to the point of fatigue - until her head throbbed and her ears rang. Exhausted, she shuffled away from the green-spattered bowl.
These weren't just strangers tonight. They were two of the dearest people to her. All it would take was one wrong move and-
Tiffany clutched her tummy and dry-heaved. Again. And again. And again.
A gunshot rang out from beyond the bathroom door. Silence fell across the arena. It lasted for seconds... until screams of chaos took over. Tiffany finally snapped to her senses and shook herself clear. "Kyanna and Mike are out there... I have to help them."
Her entire world caved when she made it back to the main stage. Mike cradled a limp and hardly breathing Kyanna in his arms. Pure anguish held him as he clung to her in a sobbing heap, his pristine white shirt was stained red.
One of the many goons towered over him. The barrel of his handgun smoked. A single spent casing sat beside the heartbroken musician.
Kyanna was... She was- Mystic fell to her knees in defeat. She was too late.
"People of Glenberry, hear me!" demanded a snide and bitchy voice over the speakers - a woman's voice.
Mystic raised her blurry eyes from the floor just long enough to see the person behind the catty tone. Female - short in height with a slim figure. She was squeezed tightly into crimson corset dress designed like flames. Her hands were covered by fingerless silk gloves; her face obscured by a frightful half black and half white Phantom of the Opera mask. "The name's Blaze," she spoke with pride. Opening her palm, she sparked up a roaring blue fireball. "And things round here are gonna change really fucking quickly..."
Swallowing grief and almost vomiting again, Mystic found her feet. "You monster," she croaked from the back of her throat. "How could you?!" Her croak became an enraged, hysterical scream. A thousand eyes fell upon her. Innocents. Henchmen; Mike and Blaze.
Blaze met eyes with the superhero from behind her screen, and laughed wickedly.
"Looks like you're finally here. Little late, huh?" She clapped her palms, making her many goons level their weapons on command. "Glenberry's little Ray of Sunshine - Miss Mystic. You're usually waaay more cheery. No sunshine and rainbows tonight?"
"...Shut up," hissed the wounded girl from behind clenched teeth.
"Awwww... What's the matter?" Blaze continued taunting her with glee. "Cat got your tongu-"
"I said shut your darned mouth!"
Mystic threw her hands outward and stretched her fingers wide. A pulse of wobbly, distorted purple energy swept over the arena. In total control, she plucked each and every gun from the hands of Blaze's hired thugs. Desperate to keep everyone else safe, she ripped out magazines and emptied bullets from chambers until there wasn't a spare round to unload between them.
Several goons stared with shock and awe in the aftermath, while Blaze faked an impressed whistle.
"Wow, you disarmed my flunkies... big win. Got anymore party tricks there, cutie?"
"Lots more, Blaze. Especially for you."
Another wave of the hand saw Mystic club the declawed henchmen in the backs of their heads with their weapons. They each went down with a thump, save the nearest two who carried the Japanese-style blades. The pair exchanged unsteady glances, no doubt afraid of their odds. Fearful of the Omega, they dropped their swords and lifted their hands in surrender.
The left-hand goon (a Southeast Asian guy with a smooth face and a festive dragon neck tattoo) went so far as to kick his sword over to Mystic. She could tell even behind his sunglasses just how scared he was. "Take it, alright? This ain't nothing personal. Gotta make money somehow, you know? The boss lady pays well and-"
His counterpart punched him in the arm. "Shut it, would ya?"
Mystic scowled internally; thugs like these were always the same. The first to push people around when armed and dangerous - the fastest to turn themselves in and beg when the tables turned. She knocked the pair of them to the floor, lifting from the ground with her psychokinetic powers and levitating in mid-air. There wouldn't be any mercy tonight. Not for any one of them, and especially their boss.
"Surrender, Blaze. Its over! Your lackeys are beat. Come out and repent for your crimes!"
"Spoken like a true goodie two-shoes," Blaze turned up her nose and scoffed. "Na. It ain't over yet, Princess. Tonight's just the beginning for Glenberry. All the rich folks who bought out this town? The celebrities and snobby fucks?! They're gonna pay... all of em!"
"Not if I have anything to say about it!"
"You're welcome to stop me, Mystic. But you're forgetting one very important thing..."
"Such as?"
"It doesn't matter the fancy powers you have. All it takes is another night like tonight... and you're history. Act all tough; save a thousand stupid music fans. But the news anchors? They'll focus on the one that slipped through your fingers. When shit hits the fan you superheroes aren't so super after all. Same thing happened with Neutron - even Dominatrix. It's why they hung up their capes years ago."
The mention of Dominatrix (her mother's old hero name) caused a crack in Mystic's heroic facade. "Don't you talk about her!" With a furious yell she shorted out the screen in a burst of distorted Psychokinesis. Blaze's image was no more, but her haunting laughter continued over the public address system. Her voice bore deeper and deeper into the superhero's mind... under her skin, even. It left her feeling itchy and disgusting.
Every pair of eyes in the stadium were glued to their 'savior'. Whispers began circulating between concertgoers. Their expressions were filled with doubt and discontent. They saw her with scorn in their hearts; they judged her failure.
Mike was the worst of all - a gaping wound. He continued to cradle sweet Kyanna in his arms; his shirt smeared red by her innocent blood. He'd never been religious man - the girl behind Mystic's mask knew that well enough. And yet... he was praying. Begging some higher power for a hero's miracle.
His miracle had arrived far too late.
Police sirens blurred off in the distance. A bitter comfort. Backup fast-approached, having first left the heavy lifting to their resident hero.
Lots of concertgoers had brought out their phones. Pictures were being taken and messages sent. The arena was alive with alerts and ringtones.
Mystic felt the color draining from her face the longer she stayed to safeguard everyone. Her only protection against life-destroying misery was her mask.
Finally, a police SWAT team burst in through the east and west stands. A dozen voices submerged her thoughts.
"GO GO GO!"
"Control, this is Vixen. The civilians are unharmed."
"-that sir. Omega in sight. Repeat, Omega in sight. Mystic is still here."
"We've got a woman down on the event stage. Repeat, woman down. Send a medical team; she's bleeding."
Regular officers arrived on scene once the SWAT had everything in order. They got to quick work instructing frightened innocents and cuffing bad guys. Paramedics rushed in behind them. Two men carried a stretcher while their female co-worker ran toward the event stage with an overflowing doctor's bag. Still in shock, Mike couldn't take being separated from his gravely wounded sweetheart while they worked.
A pair of officers had to drag the star of the show off his own stage. He thrashed and spewed all manner of tearful ramblings while they hauled him away. "No! No! Y-You can't take her from me! I'm nothing without her... nothing... Let me stay with Kyanna... I need her!"
Unable to stomach her best friend's tormented cries, Mystic took to the sky. Her body supported by her powers, she shot through the open roof like a bullet. Friction hurt her skin. Slowing to ease the sting, she headed away from the stadium, mile after mile - uncaring of where she ended up. She kept on for minutes that felt like hours. Running low on the willpower needed to support an energy field, she scouted a place to rest. Physically and emotionally.
I let you down... I let both of you down.
Burned out and sickly, she made a far from graceful landing in a grungy alleyway somewhere in Glenberry's notorious Downtown. The stink of rotting trash burned her throat and made her eyes water. Not that it mattered - those watery eyes of hers soon spilled tears of anguish. "If only I hadn't panicked... If only I'd hurried instead of- Instead of..." The lonesome gunshot rang through Mystic's thoughts. She pulled off her mask and clamped her eyes shut.
"I'm sorry Kyanna... I'm so sorry..."
She'd never failed to save the day before. How Ironic - the one time she fell short was when the lives of her friends rested in the balance.
Tiffany's alarm clock dragged her back to the waking world. Not that she cared to rise from her bed. With an exhausted groan she slung troublesome thing across the room with a jolt of psychokinetic. It thunked against the wall and stopped, probably broken.
Happy with the silence, she burrowed under the covers and hugged her knees to her chest.
All she wanted was to vanish from the world. As the honor student and as Mystic.
"Just leave me alone..."
A request her phone wouldn't allow, either. It'd been periodically vibrating on her bedside table since the concert attack last night.
She hadn't cared to check it. She hadn't cared to do anything - except sleep.
Hopefully if she slept for long enough she'd never wake up.
Uncaring of her misery, the phone kept vibrating. On and on it went.
Finally caving, Tiffany freed an arm from her blanket cocoon. Levitating her phone under the covers, she took it into both hands. The name on screen made her wish with every fibre of her being she'd hadn't. Her tummy squeezed and she felt sick all over again.
"Not you, anyone but you..."
[Mikey calling...]
Her finger edged toward the red 'Decline' button on the right-hand side of the screen.
No! What am I thinking?! She scolded herself in silence. It was her fault he was in this mess! "I can't just abandon him."
Dragging herself upright, Tiffany cleared her throat. She answered after a deep breath. "Hey Mikey..."
"...She's gone, Tiff. She didn't make it..." Her best friend's voice was hoarse and dry. "Nora stayed with her... until the end."
Mikey's news left Tiffany feeling frightfully numb. It was like she'd been yanked from her body and was floating like a ghost. The feeling didn't last; what Mikey said next made darn sure of it. "I figured I'd call... say goodbye too."
"What do you...?" Police sirens blurred over the line. A hefty lump clogged Tiffany's throat.
She fell out of bed and scooped up the television remote. Turning it on, she thumbed through to the local news channel. Her heart almost stopped. There he was - her best friend. He stood on the roof of his old West Drive apartment building with a phone pressed against his ear.
He still wore his blood-stained clothes from the night before.
Christie Carmine was there - reporting like the hawk she was; dressed in her snappy Channel Four blazer. "We're live from Glenberry's West Drive-"
Tiffany tuned out the broadcast, focused instead on the man in peril on the other end of the line. "Mikey please... I'm begging you, don't..." She darted for her discarded hero mask as she pleaded and slipped it on. As much as she hated it, Mystic was needed.
Unfortunately, her cracked and shaky voice did little to convince Mike. "...After all we went through... After all I gave up to be with her... What am I supposed to do now? How do I look her little boy in the eye? I-I can't. I'm not strong enough..."
"But you are. You're kind and gentle and talented."
"Cameras lie, Tiff. I'm a sell-out; I'm selfish, and I should've listened to Kyu." He paused and began climbing over over the safety railings. "Tell your mom she needs to quit smoking, alright? I always hated how she kept that up."
Without another word, Mike tossed the phone to the concrete below. If Mystic wasn't fast he'd soon follow.
And fast she was, faster than she'd ever been in her life. Wearing nothing but her shorts and vest top, Mystic started into a sprint and hurled herself from the bedroom window. Using sheer adrenaline, she zipped like a comet across the night sky in the direction of West Drive. "I'm on my way..."
Mike was already mid-fall when Mystic screamed onto the scene.
Fighting the painful burn of friction, she veered into his direct path.
Using an energy bubble, she suspended her target mid-air. The strain of supporting herself and another was immense, mostly because she hadn't eaten or drank anything substantial since lunchtime yesterday. Determined against the odds, she pushed through all the same. Her limbs felt heavy like they'd fall off. Her heartbeat had become frantic and painful. Inch by inch Mystic lifted herself and Mike to the rooftop.
Once he was safe she let him down. He flopped like a ragdoll heaved a weary breath.
Utterly spent, Mystic felt her strength fading. The field sustaining her body dissipated. Unable to maintain her somewhat improvised version of flight, she flaked out. When she came to, she was being held by the man she'd just saved. She gazed into his bewildered, tearful green eyes from behind her mask. "Why?" he asked her - his voice wrought with absolute agony. "Why save a deadbeat like me?"
"Because-" Mystic wheezed, so worn-out she could hardly talk. "...I couldn't-" She paused, wanting to lie so badly. It would've been easy to tout the usual, 'It's what a hero does', line. The same one she gave to the news networks time and again. Mike deserved better - he deserved more. Even if he'd hate her for it. "...Unmask me. I deserve it for letting you down."
Even neck-deep in depression, Mike hesitated and shook his head. "Not gonna happen..."
The whole world knew the gravity of unmasking a hero. Politicians made careers of it. For good or ill, it wasn't something taken lightly. A news copter buzzed overhead and would record the historic moment for the world to see. Mystic would become Tiffany and the same in reverse. She would be accountable for every good deed and likewise, every failing. She'd finally be free of her double-life.
"Why not?" Mystic clung tightly to Mike's biceps and sat upright in his lap. Desperate for release, she stared through the eyeholes in her mask; her hands shook. "I turned up too late. I'm to blame for all of thi-"
Mike silenced her with a finger against the lips. "I said no. Kyanna- She adored you guys, same for my cousin. You, Dominatrix back in the day; Sapphire too." Empty of hate, he held Mystic against his chest. Both she and the girl behind the mask were overwhelmed. "The last thing Glenberry needs is you unmasked and thrown on the Omega Register."
"I-I don't know if I can keep going..."
"Don't doubt yourself. Fight on, Mystic. A friend of mine... tried to talk me outta this; said I was kind and talented. If she met you she'd say the same."
Lost for words, Mystic brought her arms around Mike's middle. She hugged him with the strength she had left.
This was Tiffany's life. Two sides. Two faces. Two masks.
"I'll do my best..." And for the sake of Kyanna and Mike she'd keep on going. "Thank you, Mikey." She leaned in and kissed his cheek. The singer was left surprised by her sudden move. She answered him with a fragile but hopeful smile. "I've always been your biggest fan."
The rooftop door swung open and a pair of officers barged onto the scene. Waving Mike goodbye, Mystic took to the air.
She'd spend a few days as Tiffany, to mourn Kyanna and comfort Mike. And then she'd return to the role of Mystic.
A hero's job was never done.
To be continued...
There you have it! A little slice of fried gold. Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? As always, keep on supporting Huniepop and I'll see you in the next chapter. Take care, guys and girls.