Sorry, the next chapter had me in a writer's block, constant inner debate with power limits and I eventually forgot about it and got kidnapped by the BnHA fandom, had to edit this a lot. read, enjoy, review!

I don't own worm

It happened randomly.

Nothing dangerous or exciting, it was just random.

Around the time I had just started my gig of carrying shady stuff in and out of school. What it was? I had no clue. Was I the only person? Probably not; it's a big school, crappy as it was, and I doubt they'd just supply it with one backpack full of weed or slowmo cartridges. Well, I didn't care, I just knew that for once I had cash in my pocket that I earned myself. I felt good, I felt...accomlished, if that makes sense.

I know it was stupid, considering what the work was, but I was proud of myself. I made this money! Me! I was so excited that I couldn't wait to spend it!

It's how I wondered into a random burger joint, one that was obvious it had seen better days. I got a quick burger with cheese and a side of onion rings with a rootbeer to wash it down. It had nothing on Fugly Bob's burgers but it got the job done. There was a TV in the corner of the room playing the latest news, some E88 heist or something...actually I think it was the Elites. Some guy said or did something, I don't really remember what it was. Shit happened, got resolved in like a minute. Then I went back to eating. You know, nothing happened. Then I got something, something that would eventually become an idea.

By the end, the idea had become a random thought. At first, I had no idea what the random thought that came to mind was but I kept thinking around it. After I ate I paid for my crap and I walked out, fuller than I thought I'd be. That's when I realised something. I was finally able to come to a single conclusion.

This was more or less the process:

…

…

Ah…

…

I'm a parahuman….

"C'mon," I muttered, "c'mon."

"1, 2 and LIFT!" I put my back into it as I, along with two others, lifted a heavy crate onto the back of a beaten-up pickup truck.

"Fuck," I muttered as I wiped the sweat off of my forehead.

"Man, what da fuq is in these things," Maurice asked as he jumped off the car. He was black, 20 or so, with a questionable goatee that joined his sideburns along his jawline, short hair that looked thick as if they were dreads, stud on his ear, he was tall and well built, practically the one doing all the heavy lifting. Wore jeans and purple hoodie with a blue fist on it, a Detroit hero's logo.

"Five bucks says it's guns," Luiz said taking out the bill. Luiz was Hispanic, he was 17 and he didn't speak with an accent. Tbh, his English is pretty much more American than most Americans in my opinion. He had a light natural tan, but he was mostly white, an inch shorter than me, more ripped than me, had short black hair with the sides buzzed off. He wore a white long sleeve shirt with another shirt overlapping it, a sleeveless button up shirt, and then paired with blue faded jeans.

"I'll take that bet," I said pulling out a five of my own, "shit for Squealer's power."

"DEAL! Let's crack this bitch up!"

"Fuck no! Not here," Our driver yelled. Our driver was Sparky, that's not his real name but we all call him that. He was my height, maybe a cm taller if we exclude his spiky hair, like-he gathered clumps of hair and made large spikes out of them, two bottom lip piercings near the middle of the lip but mostly to the left of his lip, nose ring, bars on the top of his ears. He wore gold chains over his black t-shirt and black jacket paired with navy black jeans and black tennis shoes. I like black as much as the next guy but that was too much if you ask me.

"HEY! BITCHES!" We turned to see the guy who normally does the bags switch with me, wearing a red beanie this time, grey shirt with a white skull, scraggly beard and ripped jeans, his name was Nate. "We got one more and we're out!"

"Hey boss," yeah he wants us to call him boss, "what's in the box," Luiz asked, "we bet guns against stuff for Squealer to tinker."

"Wha? Neither, now get your head out your asses and haul this fucker on the truck!"

"Damnit," Luiz whined as I chuckled with a grin on my face, I didn't win but I didn't lose either.

The three of us went back inside the abandoned post office. BB still has one, dunno why they shut this one down...no I do. No money plus no one wants to deliver in this part of town, two big reasons to shut it down I suppose. We went in through the docks, walked through the rows of abandoned product...paper not being among them...well seeing how Merchants stashed shit here, they probably smoked it up.

"Alright faggots, it's this one," Nate slapped a wooden crate that was hidden in the back of a bunch of other crates...what the hell did the post office used keep in these crates, more boxes? "Load it up!" Nate left it to us while he walked back to the truck. I rolled my eyes.

Luiz and I went to one end while Maurice went to the other end. Again, Luiz and I just did like thirty-forty percent of the lifting while Maurice looked strained but was managing the other sixty percent.

"That fuckin' party better be the shit," Maurice cursed under his breath.

"You said it," Luiz agreed, "two days by ourselves, I hope we get good bitches."

"What about aids," I asked, I like hookers as much as the next guy, I think, but if its merchant girls who do anything for their next fix….

"Rubber and no kissing," Luiz said, "the cardinals rules keeps us all safe."

"Fuckin' shut it and lift you fuckers," Maurice cursed at us.

"Already lifting with all my might," I lied, I mean I was trying but I didn't really feel like I was doing much.

"Same," Luiz said.

"Weak ass white bois," Maurice muttered.

"Fuck you," Luiz sent back in response, "I'm Latino."

"Still a white boi."

"HURRY THE FUCK UP," Nate yelled, ending all arguments. We quickly move the last crate to the truck and then put a tarp over the back. I honestly thought it would fail since the skies were clear but it actually worked. We all got in the back and we were off.

Maurice got the left window, Luiz the right, and I was stuck in the middle. I rest my head back and close my eyes.

Two days...it felt twice as long. See when I was told that we would be moving stuff around I didn't think that "we" would amount to 5 people. Yep all of us had to move stuff out of the area by ourselves.

Apparently Skidmark thought it was a good idea to not use a huge group of guys to move the stuff in order to avoid attention; honestly would have taken two hours max if we had enough guys. I don't know if it was a good idea or not but so far we haven't run into any sort of trouble.

At least it wasn't all bad. For us sorry saps stuck being movers for the weekend, we were invited to a merchant party. An actual party the capes attend. I can't say I felt entirely comfortable but on the other hand, I got invited to a party that wasn't an obligation invite that forced me to get a birthday gift for some kid I barely know.

A party's a party is my reasoning. I just wonder what all the fuss is about. Back at school, guys and girls my age talk about going out and "turnin' up" and all that jazz, but is it really fun? Does going out and getting drunk off your ass to the point where a guy in drags looks like a supermodel and your blowing chunks the next day really amazing? Well...there's word of mouth and blogs but really, there's only one way to find out. And that's by going.

"We going to the same warehouse as last time," Sparky asked.

"Nah," Nate replied as he ran his hand through his face, "first we're stopping by the Pizza Joint and getting six-ten pies, then we head to the party," Pizza Joint was the name of the pizza shop. "From the-"

"Cheeseinthecrust," I quickly blurted.

"What," Nate asked turning to look at me with blinking red eyes.

"Um. Can we get one with cheese in the crust," I repeated slowly. I mean c'mon. A pizza isn't a pizza if the crust isn't stuffed!

"Fuck, let's get half of 'em with cheese in the crust," he said. "Any of you guys have the Pizzeria's number?" Is that what they're called?

"No," All four of us chorused.

"Smartphone?"

"Left mine at home," I answered.

"Girlfriend broke mine," Sparky answered.

"Forgot to charge mine," Luiz said.

"Got one but no signal," Maurice said, showing his phone with no bars and a screensaver of a naked girl.

"Guess we're waiting in the parking lot," Nate stated with a sigh, no one said anything.

"So is it pepperoni or meat lovers or what?" Well, no one but me. Obviously.

"Meat Lovers, obviously," Nate said, I glanced around me and everyone was more or less nodding. "We got our own veggies at home, some good ol' green and special shrooms, magical one might say," well all laughed, the joke sucked but the timing was on point.

"Heheh-...! Shit," Sparky said. Then we heard the police sirens. No one groaned, instead, we all acted a bit like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of what to do.

"Pull over," Nate said a bit unfazed.. "...I SAID PULL OVER!" Sparky finally did so and pulled over to the side of the road. "Maurice, ready your piece," I heard a click to my left, I glanced and sure enough Maurice was reaching for the gun strapped to his right leg, right above his ankle, nothing major, just a tiny gun. "If I say fuck 'em you fuck 'em, understand," Maurice quickly nodded. A police officer walked to the driver seat and rasped on the window with his knuckle.

I swallowed a lump I didn't realize I had in my throat. I stared at myself in the rear-view mirror.

I had a green hoodie on with purple shirt underneath and blue faded jeans. I looked a bit too white I realised. I just focused on breathing as my heart began to beat in my ears.

Fuck, when I thought about seeing a dead body I always figured it would be some college prank I would pull with a cadaver. I never imagined I'd get to see how a corpse was made with my own eyes much less be a part of it. OH GOD! What if we have to get rid of it? FUCK!

Sparky, rolled down the window. The cop, wearing large aviators and a police hat pretty much hid his hair, rested his right arm on the window while his left one was at his side, no doubt close to a gun. He gave us a brief one over and nodded.

"License and registration," he finally said.

"Oh um," Sparky let out dumbly trying to figure out what to do, all he had was a permit and there was no way a cop would believe that Nate was his guardian. "I-um-"

"Don't worry about him," Nate said as he opened the glove compartment in front of him. He put his hands up, probably to show the cop that he wasn't reaching for a weapon, and with one hand he slowly grabbed something from the glove compartment. Some ID that I was sure belonged to a girl and random paper, then he pulled out a few hundred dollar bills and wedged them between the ID and paper, "Here, check to see if it's all in order." Nate handed it to the cop. The cop simply took it without a word and walked back to his cruiser. At that moment I realized something, the cop didn't have his badge out.

A moment later he came back and handed Sparky, who then handed to Nate, the ID and papers.

"You might want to teach the kid in the middle to mellow out during these things, he sort of makes it obvious," the cop said. Me I realised. Did I make it that obvious? Nate just nodded.

"He's new," Nate answered, "we'll be sure to deal with it." The cop shrugged, tapped the car and walked back to his cruiser, in a minute, the cruiser passed our car, made a right and was gone. For a moment no one did anything besides let go of the breath we were all holding in. My heart was still beating fast but it was slowing down.

"Craig-" Nate began, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

"Greg-" I quickly said.

"Whatever. Next time, be chill."

"Sorry...I just didn't see the badge and-"

Sparky cut him off with a scoff and quickly said, "Maurice, tell him where we are."

"I dunno, the docks," he answered.

"No man! The HOOD! We in da hood!" Luiz scoffed this time.

"This is not the hood," Luiz said with a small laugh. "The hood-"

"What he means," Nate cut in, "is that no fucker would be dumb enough to come up this part of town, take a bribe, and have his badge number or something out for the world to see. Especially in broad daylight. Hell, you can barely tell what he looks like with his hat and sunglasses on."

"Sorry," I repeated, eyes forward at the road, "I thought he was gonna shoot us or something."

"He might one day." Oh well that's great! Real homicidal cops! "But that's why Maurice is with us. Ain't that right, Maurice?"

"Anyone fucks with me I'll fuck'em up," he replied while looking off to the side.

"Ah huh," Nate said as he shook his head, "Sparky, Pizza Joint."

"Right away, boss," and the car was in motion.

"So is this normal, just bribing cops?" Nate shrugged. "I mean...do we really have to pay?"

"Honestly, we try to avoid them all together, business is tough as it is. We don't need to give them a reason to fuck us up."

"What'll they do," on hindsight, the answer is pretty obvious.

"Like I said, shoot us. Take a gun they confiscated, make it go full auto with a weapon mod they probably have stashed somewhere and murder all of us in three seconds. The boss won't know it was them, probably wouldn't even care, and the guys who would respond and investigate would be them. Unless there's a witness then they can kill us all and everyone would think it was either the Nazi fucks or the bite-sized pricks."

I guess minions have it rough.

"Ey, check it," Sparky said. I followed his line of sight and found a group of Asians by a corner with their phones out. Huh, talk about coincidences.

Some of the Asians were taking pictures, others texting, obviously looking for something. "You changed the license plate, right?" Nate scoffed.

"We jacked the car a few towns over. It's the pictures of us I'm worried about."

"Should we go back?"

"...Nah. Word from those in the know is that they got a bomb tinker."

"Awhatnow!" I couldn't help but ask.

"A. Bomb. Tinker." he answered slowly, maybe to mock how fast I went. "Very futuristic bombs." Greaaaaaaat.

"Fuck. Asians with bombs," Luiz said shaking his head, "we gonna get kamazis again?" Oh shit, I didn't think of that.

"Probably," Maurice said, "you know those fuckers will yell 'Banzai,'" he said with a high pitched voice, "with bombs strapped to their chest." Ehhhhh, not too sure 'bout that, but with a tinker, a modified car would probably be enough to do damage. At least I assume.

"Ah huh," Nate agreed."Between us, the only way I'm getting close is with some heavy machinery. But knowing our glorious fucking parahuman overlords, it'll last a few minutes before we're all fucked. Honestly, I'd rather avoid them and have a gun close by." He sighed after he said that, "you need one close by. Just that kind of world these days."

"That kind of world, huh," I muttered as I rested my head back while closing my eyes...