Chapter Three.

Demons Of The Past.

It wasn't until Danny made it home and washed his face in the mirror that he saw his outfit; it was borderline ruined. HIs shirt and pants were riddled with bullet holes, noticeable burn marks, deep cuts like someone had taken knives to them (which a few of the henchmen had) and just major abuse. Yet, Danny's skin under them was unscathed. It really helped to hit home for him that the powers he had were in fact real, and that he had in fact gone toe to toe with an entire terrorist organization and come out on top.

Not to mention he'd done it entirely alone. Danny changed into his pajamas, amazed he didn't rip them while putting them on, and threw his destroyed clothes in the trash can. He'd have to wake up extra early tomorrow to take them out with the trash, or his mother would have his head. Danny climbed into bed, threw the covers over himself, and nodded off.

As usual, he woke up at five, this time without the aid of an alarm; he'd still have to get a new night stand and alarm clock, and why his mother hadn't come to rip him apart for the destruction of his old ones was beyond him. Danny showered, got dressed, and ate breakfast. As he left the house, he was expecting just the usual jaunt to school. He was proven wrong within five minutes.

"Hey!" Cried a voice. Danny looked, wondering what he'd done wrong. His answer came when a man he didn't even know clapped Danny on the shoulder like he was a longtime friend. "You know who's awesome?" he asked. Before Danny had time to ask, the man answered his own question. "You're awesome. Keep it up dude!" The man then walked off to parts unknown, thus ending the encounter as abruptly as it had started. Danny thought it was odd, but kept along his way, but soon he was stopped again, this time by a slightly older looking woman.

"I don't have to worry when my children want to play in the street anymore. Thanks, Superhero." Danny took mental note that this had been the second time he'd been called a superhero. But unlike Sheriff Foster, this woman sounded like she meant it in a positive, sincere way. Before he had time to wonder where all this praise was coming from, his answer came as he passed the electronics store. The TVs in the window showed something; his battle with the terrorists. It almost looked like a cheesy action movie, and yet the events were true. The headline under the footage read,

"Superhero saves Diamond City, Terrorist band broken up." The footage ended with Wrecking Crew, who looked smaller without his armor, and Ivory in handcuffs being escorted by police. Danny broke his gaze on the screens and resumed his walk. Suddenly he heard another voice.

"There he is!" He looked up, just in time to see a group of people standing outside of an apartment building, probably the tenants, all working together to lift a sign above their heads. The sign read, "Thank you, Superhero." It was certainly nice to know that his deed was appreciated. Before long, Danny was on the school grounds. Next thing he knew, someone was shoving a newspaper in his face.

"Great work!" Came Mona's voice. Danny took the newspaper, The Daily Diamond, and looked it over. The headline read "Diamond City gets new Superhero."

"Why does everybody think I'm a superhero?" Danny asked to no one in particular.

"Earth to Danny!" Said Mona, knocking on his forehead, "Anyone home? Danny, you saved Diamond City from hostile takeover; why do you think everyone thinks you're a superhero?!"

"Well, I couldn't exactly let them do any of that. Least of all hurt you."

"Spoken like a true Superhero." The last part then dawned on Mona, causing her to blush, "Well, I'm glad you think of me like that."

"To be honest," said Danny, "I'm surprised to see you here; I thought your dad was gonna ground you into next week."

"Nah," said Mona, "he just likes to bitch." Mona averted Danny's gaze at the mention of Sheriff Foster, indicating there was more to her relationship with her father than she was letting on, but Danny didn't feel that it was his place to ask. Then Mona snapped her fingers like she just remembered something. "By the way, I put in a good word for you at Warioware." She took something from seemingly nowhere and placed it in Danny's hand; it was an envelope from Warioware, embossed with a seal with the affirmed company's logo. "Welcome aboard, Superhero."

…

"Aw cripes, why are we doing this again?"

"You know why. Japan chose our Museum to feature this thing. From what I hear, just digging it up scared the wits out of the whole crew. The Japanese government is spooked too. Dude, they practically gave this thing to us."

"I know that. But why didn't it get flown all the way to the states? Why do we gotta drive it through Mexico?"

"The plane was supposed to go to the states, but the pilot had to make an emergency landing when the engines cut out. It's amazing no one was hurt, but all the cargo was destroyed, save for what we're hauling. But when they checked the engines, there was nothing wrong with them. Either it's pure dumb luck, or there's something about this thing. I don't like it man, I think it just radiates evil."

"Sure, in the same way our boss just radiates sunshine. I hate the guy."

"Yeah but look at the bonus he's giving us. Just to drive some odd artifact across a country and a half."

"Yeah, the money's the only reason why I gave up the weekend for this lousy job."

"Well we better get going; my wife's gonna kill me if I miss my daughter's birthday party again." The two men fell into a silence as the driver started the large truck and began the long trek. It was all he could do not to go into a profanity filled rant. He normally would never give up his weekend to drive across a country whose language he only had the most basic grasp of, with an artifact he'd barely even got a look at, so he wasn't even sure what it was. Whatever it was, Japan was glad to be rid of it and his boss was paying handsomely for its safe delivery. He'd already mentally spent his money on martinis and pretty women massaging his shoulders. He could just taste the ice cold drink and feel their soft hands on his bare skin, he was salivating just at the thought.

But his thoughts were interrupted when he was forced to slam on the brakes. There were three pickup trucks standing end to end on the road in front of him. Annoyed, the driver honked the horn.

"Move it!" He cried, "I got places to be and you're sitting in the way of progress!" Suddenly, a band of masked men slipped out of the trucks, guns drawn. Both driver and passenger held their hands up. One of them, assumingly the leader of the operation, gestured the men out of the truck.

"Surrender the contents of the truck," He barked in a thick, barely understandable accent, "and we will let you live."

"Come on, man!" The driver snapped, "Just let us-" The man holding the gun pulled the trigger, and the driver fell, dead before he hit the ground. The gunman then pointed his weapon at the passenger.

"You gonna say no too, hombre?"

"Let me get my bolt cutters." Said the passenger, hoping going back into the truck wouldn't be taken as a sign of trying to bail. The leader said something in Spanish, and the men lowered their guns.

"Do it!" He said. The man dove back in, grabbed his bolt cutters, and stepped back out. "No sudden moves!" Ordered the leader, as he walked with the man to the back of the truck, his gun pressed into the man's back, to make sure he would comply. The man walked back to the back, and cut the lock. Then he slid the door open. Inside was a single tall beige crate. The leader called to his men, and spoke to them in Spanish. The men scrambled into the truck and got the box out.

"Alright," said the leader, "you can go. Get back in the truck and don't you dare look back!" The man nodded, as he practically sprinted to the cab and jumped in like an Olympic high jumper. Three men moved the pickups, and the driver floored it away like a bat out of hell.

"Let's see what our little ambush has won us." Said the leader, as one of his crew drew a crowbar and pried the crate open, while everyone took off their masks. Inside was what looked like a sword in a rock. The handle was dark purple, embellished with what looked like a demon head, while the blade was black.

"Woah!" Cried one of them in Spanish, "look at that! I bet that'd fetch us a pretty penny on the black market."

"Screw that!" Cried the leader, "this is my new toy." He walked forward, grabbed the hilt, and took it out. To his surprise, he didn't have to yank it, or call his men for help, it just slid right out with barely any effort. He swung it a few times, the air hissed as it cut through, "Those pendejos in the Chupacabra gang had better watch their asses, or I'll run this through their fat heads." The gang members all gave approving sounds. Suddenly, the man's hand felt like it was on fire, and he let out a surprised yelp. He tried to drop the sword, but it was like the handle was coated in glue, his fingers and palm unable to move from it. Then came a feeling of being drained, causing the boss to scream in horror and pain.

"Boss!" Cried one of the men,

"What's happening?" Cried another. Then suddenly, the tip of the blade began to glow a dark purple. Five beams shot from it, each striking one of the gang members in the chest. All let out cries of pain and anguish, their hair turning white, their skin decaying, and their teeth falling out of their heads. The men slowly and painfully withered away, until there was nothing left of them but dusty bones and the clothes on their backs. The sword clattered to the ground, then something rose from it, looking like purple smoke.

"FINALLY!" Roared the purple cloud, "One thousand years wasted." He looked at himself, being merely a shred of the monster he used to be. "Look at me now; I could barely destroy a flower, let alone an entire ninja clan. It is fortunate that I killed and consumed my brothers in the sword. If I had been merciful, that Ninja's prophecy would have come true." The wisp looked around, "I must find a host body, otherwise my revenge will never come true." His mind scanned the area, hoping to find the most evil being. Then something came back. "Perfect!" said the wisp, smiling, showing its dulled fangs.

…

He sat in pitch darkness, his back to the wall. The only sound was his breathing. His skin was covered in scars. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, burns, you name it. The amount of dead bodies in his wake was uncountable. Men, women, children, he didn't care a bit for any of their blood on his hands. He just never fit in anywhere, so why should he care about a few dead bodies? And now here he was, rotting away in this box. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to escape, oh he had, several times, but this prison was a lot smarter and much tighter in its rules than the others.

Still, just one more killing spree, thought the monster of a man, then some pendejo with a gun can put a bullet in my brain. Who knows? I might even just let him do it. He then heard the sound of a click, as a small hatch on the bottom of the door let in just enough light to blind him, as the sound of a plastic bowl sliding across the floor played out.

"Here you are, Butch." Said the voice of the guard who loved his job just a bit too much.

"What's in it?" Butch asked, not really caring at this point, but he was curious.

"Toenails, bugs, and a little something extra from yours truly. Eat up, baby killer." The guard laughed as he shut the hatch, plunging the room back to darkness. Butch wasn't overly hungry, and he wasn't about to give that moron the satisfaction, so he simply kicked the bowl over, spewing the contents onto the floor. Suddenly, there was a bright light, this time from inside the solitary confinement unit. Butch covered his eyes until they recovered from the shock. When he looked again, there was what looked like a ghost in his cell.

"Greetings." Said the ghost.

"Oh great," said Butch, "I've been in here so long I'm starting to hallucinate."

"I am no illusion." Said the Ghost, "I know you are a man of great evil stuck in an undignified box. I can help you, give you tremendous powers to destroy anyone you wish with barely a flick of your wrist." Butch thought it was a bunch of hooey, but he figured he didn't have much to lose. Worst case scenario, if he was dreaming, he could have a few minutes of mindless fun.

"Okay," said Butch, "I'll bite."

"Excellent!" Exclaimed the monster, "this will only hurt for a moment." Without another word the monster flew into Butch, and then came a great feeling of pain. It was probably a good thing the unit was soundproof, so no one could hear his screams of anguish. But as fast as it had started, it stopped. Butch felt something...he felt stronger. Out of curiosity, he stood and gave a kick to the door holding him in. With a powerful crack, the door flew out of the wall before slamming into the other wall and coming down. This, however, caused a shrieking alarm to go off. Butch stepped out of his cell. He saw the sunlight in the window for the first time in...He didn't actually know. Guards came barreling up the stairs, guns drawn.

"Come at me, babosas!" Cried Butch, slowly and casually walking towards them. The guns went off. To everyone's surprise, even Butch's, the bullets ripped his orange jumpsuit but bounced off of him once they touched his skin. He could barely even feel the bullets. He grinned, and cracked his knuckles. He saw one of the guards pulling out a grenade, and Butch put out his hand to catch it. Only for a powerful red beam of energy to fly out of his palm. This beam struck the grenade and caused it to explode, killing all the guards near it.

"This keeps getting better and better!" Cried Butch as he continued to walk. When he reached the stairs, he heard someone yell,

"BLOW IT!" And with an explosion, the stairs withered under his feet. Butch began to fall, but stopped, as though he landed on something invisible. He could see the panicking guards below his feet and smirked a wicked smirk. Rather than crash land on the guards, or shoot a blast at them, he looked up and flew through the ceiling. This left the guards confused and terrified.

With the whole prison below his feet, Butch began to charge up the biggest blast of this energy he could muster. Then putting his hands out like he was trying to catch an invisible basketball being thrown at him, he shot it. The beam was as wide as a fiat, and came crashing onto the prison faster than a jet. The force of the impact caused the entire prison to explode.

The explosion was so powerful it even knocked Butch a bit further up, but he was able to catch himself. He looked down at the ruins of the prison, with a wicked smirk, before something moving down there caught his eye. He flew down quickly, landing so hard next to the moving object it actually knocked them down. The man was wearing a red dress shirt, black slacks, and black loafers. He looked at Butch in terror, and it dawned on the monster who this was.

"For such a jackass guard," he said, "you got some nice duds." Butch Reached down and grabbed the man's neck. "Very nice." he said a minute later, buttoning up the last button of the shirt, leaving the body of a naked man dead behind him. Then Butch took to the sky. His destination? He didn't have one.

Maybe find a nice, quiet metropolis, Thought Butch, and turn it into a parking lot. Butch smirked as he flew, but he wasn't the only one smirking.