The Spiralling

Chapter 18: Return

The rest of my morning was spent with my father- we talked about superheroes in general, comic books. It was like a great leap forward for the both of us- never in our life had we spoken so much to each other before. Blame it on the generation gap thing. There's about 30 years between me and my dad. Try comparing the Superman movie in 1978 and the 2006 version.

We talked about my super-secret exploits as Kick-Ass- how I started wondering about real-life superheroes, how I trained and made my first actual contribution to the law and justice, and how I joined forces with Big Daddy and Hit-Girl to take down the D'Amico crime family. We talked about my present 'challenge'- boy was it the hardest subject to talk about yet. Nevermind my first failure that ended in a horrific car accident as that's history. In talking about my final round with the albino, I feel like a son going to Vietnam or Iraq.

My father was torn between letting me go and grounding me, but eventually he slackened his grip on me. If I know him right enough, I'd say he must have understood why I need to do this- because I'm now something more than just Dave Lizewski, and I have a mission that involved saving many lives. Plus, I knew he wouldn't want to go back on his word of supporting me in my masked vigilante efforts.

We talked into the afternoon, over lunch, and into our dinner, consisting of pizza and root beer. We were never like father and son than before, this interested in each other as though we were new mint copies of the latest Ultimate X-men comic books.

Eventually, there is always an end to things, the way there is always an end to the world's best comic book series. Our time to appreciate each other came to an end when the sun was setting, and it was time for me to be Kick-Ass again.

Back then, before dad came forward admitting that he knew the city's blue crusader was his own son, I was always alone inside, even when dad was around me, even when I was just chilling out with my friends. The loneliness was lifted only slightly when I was around Mindy, as I could relate easily with her without exposing my superhero persona. While my real identity's about as awkward as she was able to take down a pair of mobsters, we had many things in common on the flipside- as costumed vigilantes.

Now, I have a father who I could be transparent with, one who could actually send me off. While I was putting on my gear, he was there to advise me, be it with lessons on life, or with some tips in combat that he learnt in his work as a security guard, or with adjusting my protective gear to my fitting. The fact was that he was there for me, and I feel energised.

It was back to business when I sneak out from the backyard of my home- I had become an expert in getting in or out of my home undetected- it was one of the few things I was able to do right. I had to hail another cab with a driver who thinks he's lucky to pick up a superhero. It was hard to get him to drive me to the hotel Mr. Medieval was in, with him asking too many questions. Getting a superhero-mobile was something I can never get right for years unfortunately until I get a full-time job and a car license.

Some time later...

"Hello?" Angie D'Amico answered through the phone as Peter, one of her men who was in charge of security, called her, "Make it quick, the meeting is about to start, I'm sure you know."

"Er... We have a problem." Peter said, unsure of how to best portray the situation to the last D'Amico, the wife of Frank and mother of Christopher, and subsequently their successor to the D'Amico crime family. The 'business' had already sustained many humiliating losses, and could not handle another.

"What problem?" The woman was becoming agitated, and she had every right to be. After losing her entire immediate family to some masked vigilantes, several branches of her business and millions worth of bread and butter, she had plenty to worry about.

"We're... The police are at the main entrance." Peter replied, stuttering- there was more to it than just a few policemen.

"Just let them in, they won't find anything." Angie was doing all she could to calm herself down, but beads of sweat were already starting to form on her forehead even as she was sitting in a spacious conference room with massive air conditioning systems and numerous friends of the family for company- the most loyal lieutenants of the crime family.

"They're not just here to poke around, Ma'am." Peter's voice was wavering as his eyes were focused on the computer monitor before him that was showing the street outside. He was in a dark room- a central security room outfitted with the latest computer and electronic hardware, wired to every camera in the entire skyscraper. It was the brain behind all of the security devices in the tower- from trip-laser activated alarms right down to the overhead sprinklers that could be activated in case the smoke detectors fail.

"What do you mean? How did you know this?" The third head of the family was becoming anxious- they had always been able to throw the police off, for decades his husband did, and for months her unexpectedly talented son did.

"Er... I think they've sent everything they got on us- dozens of police cruisers, a few SWAT trucks, a few helicopters. There's like a hundred of cop-pers at our front door!" Peter was describing the scene outside- it was like one of those from a police movie, a grand set with the entire police force at the front lawn of some small house.

"What!" Angie exclaimed while at the same time kept her voice down to avoid raising any concerns in her right-hand men. Her eyes shifting to check if her lieutenants had suspected anything, she whispered into the phone on her side of the conference table. While she may have learnt quite a bit from her husband in the tricks of the crime trade, there was nothing any self-respecting crime lord could do in a predicament like this- other than to somehow escape American justice and restart the business in some other state or country, "Put everyone on alert. I want my tower defended at all costs. Is there anything else?"

"Er... No, there's nothing else." Just as he was waiting for his new boss to hang up, he spotted something behind the police army- a shadow of blackness, with some patches of whiteness contrasting with the blackness. The shadow had, under the nose of the patrolmen holding the police barricades against a crowd of curious onlookers. The police captain taking point of the operation casually ordered two of his men to escort out the intruder, who appears to be a little girl in winter-wear with a thick cap worn so low that it obscured her face, "Wait, wait, wait! I think I saw..."

All of a sudden, one of the police officers was arching his back backwards, his hands clutching his throat. Where his head was, there was a faint shade of red and a flash of metal- it was a flying dagger. With a rapid spin, the girl in winter-wear severed the leg of the other police officer cleanly, using some kind of a sickle weapon attached to the same rope connected to the dagger, "Hello? Hello? What'd you see?"

In a blink of an eye, she had two silenced pistols drawn out, and she was shooting at the officers, making sure every bullet hits- not even the best marksman under the D'Amicos were this accurate and deadly. The policemen were caught totally off-guard from their rear and before they could react, she was already charging towards the main entrance, which a squad of SWAT officers had just busted through with a ram. A grenade blew up amidst the group of SWAT cops, as if it came out of nowhere, and like a cheetah, the girl lunged through the smoke. Another camera close to the main door captured the action as if it was a movie scene.

"I think I saw... Hit Girl." The security goon was starting to lose his voice at the thought of meeting the legend that slaughtered an entire platoon of his friends during a previous assault on their fortress by the same girl in mask and cape. He was lucky to be in another stronghold of the business.

"Wait, it's that Demoness girl- news said she's an albino." Another guard in the security room corrected Peter- he was just as anxious as his boss and buddy. Be her Hit Girl or Demoness, it doesn't change the fact that they were facing an indomitable force found in an unlikely element- a girl who's probably two to three times younger than the average age of a regular thug.

"Demoness... I saw Demoness, she went through our front door!" Peter quickly corrected himself as his eyes started following the little bundle of destruction until she disappeared himself the heavy steel doors of one of the building's lift.

"Well, fix it! I'm not calling off this meeting!" Angie D'Amico barked her orders in a hushed tone before hanging up, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

"You alright, boss?" A rather large and imposing man asked, concerned, his sweet manners glaringly unnatural to him as he paid respect to his boss.

"I'm fine, ju-just a small problem." Angie replied unconvincingly. The other crime lords were starting to eye her warily, analysing her for any signs of trouble up at the front, "It'd be fixed in a blink of an eye, and shall we start our meeting?"

Her lieutenants could only trust her words alone, but her nervous giggle betrayed her otherwise sincere statement. She was never really a natural at this trade- previously, she was just a woman, a wife and a girl who was living the millionaire dream, albeit with a criminal element to it. Angie D'Amico had always tried to live apart from it- little did she know she'd have to take charge after her son died little more than a few months after succeeding his father. In a desolate corner of her mind, she knew she may well join his family pretty soon- but in another corner of her mind, she was confident that the hundred plus odd henchmen she inherited from her son should be enough to cushion her against the little menace invading her home ground.

Meanwhile...

This is it. It was time for action. The years I lived through, well, barely, had all been building up to this point, when I nab my biggest (or smallest) criminal yet. We were staking out in trench coats when we saw her- it wasn't easy to miss the little girl; she was literally leaving a bloody trail of destruction in her wake, taking down officer after officer, taking them out with some ninja weapons and shooting many in the back, even the SWAT cops. I was expecting New York's finest to do better, but I can't blame them. They were taken by surprise, and they don't shoot children.

By the time she was done and sprinting towards the main entrance of the D'Amico tower, more than half the policemen there were dead. It reminds me of how the Dark Phoenix had easily wasted hundreds in the last X-men movie. Wolverine had to put Jean to rest- I'd have to do the same to this girl, or Grandmaster. She may be a victim, but she's destruction.

With the police in disarray and everyone else running around in a spree of panic, we didn't need to worry about anyone stopping us from entering the warzone that was the D'Amico tower- this was the moment I had been working for. The comic-book fan in me had dreamt of something this grand ever since the beginning, and the superhero in me had anticipated this- hundreds, if not thousands would be saved, as vengeance can never be satiated, that much I learnt from the saga I started nine months ago- in a way, I've learnt that ever since I started teleporting myself into the world of the comic-books.

Throwing off our heavy trench coats and putting on the stuff we were hiding behind it while we were in disguise, we made a run towards the main entrance of the building, my batons out and Grandmaster's long sword drawn. This is it.