Superhero Manager System

Sub-Villians And Goons

Arome grabbed the legs of the Hound and dragged it back into the elevator. The hound hit the floor with a loud impact against the elevator floor. Meanwhile, its blind companion started barking wildly, the sound of Arome and its partner in a scuffle it could not partake in. The healthy hound was stronger, and Arome only had leverage for a small amount of time before it would be able to free itself from his grasp.

He pulled back on the neck of the hound, as hard as his current level of strength would let him. He felt bones pop as he swung the hound into the elevator wall, while utilizing more force than he could ever bring to bear. 'Weird.’ Arome thought to himself, he did have a little bit more strength now. It wasn’t much, but for all the hound’s strength, now that it was grabbed, it felt somewhat light in Arome’s grip. But he had the initiative, and he had to make sure he did not let this opportunity go to waste.

He smashed the hound into the elevator wall again, yet even as he did so he could feel the hound struggling to get free of his hold. “You’re not going anywhere!” he yelled at the hound as he reinforced his grip. Arome knew if this demon broke free, then he would be dead again. And he doubted the hound would be waiting for him to by the time he resurrects. It would have escaped the elevator and brought the attention of its masters to Arome, which was a far worse outcome. But more than that, Arome was tired of dying to these demons. The last thing he’d want is to feel those claws and fangs on his skin again.

Perhaps it was providence, or just plain luck. But by the time Arome hit the hound for the fourth time, the demon's tongue was already hanging outside its mouth. The impact of its head hitting the elevator wall was enough to snap the appendage. Gore and blood spilled everywhere as Arome let go. But that had been a mistake as the Hound swiftly turned and launched itself into his chest.

They were both launched with way more force and speed than a normal human would be able to withstand. There was an even louder bang as the elevator shook in its entirety. “God! Argh!” Arome could feel his spine snapping from the force. He crumpled to the ground, a cry of pain escaping his lips, as the demon decides to take matters into its own hands. It would bring an end to this altercation, once and for all. The hound then widened its jaws, forcing them wide open to unnatural proportions. And then it chomped down on Arome's head, and all in a single bite.

Arome welcomed the darkness this time. He was tired, and even if his body kept returning, good as new after every death, he was getting tired of the mental toll it was causing, he had already died so many times. ‘I guess I should be ready for a whole other level of trauma after this. I should call my therapist.’ Were the last thoughts he had as he faded away completely. But this time, he felt a difference.

The tug he had been feeling to hell every time he had died so far, was more powerful this time. Arome felt as if he had come to the precipice, one more death and his soul would take the plunge. There would be no resurrection for him anymore, or even if he did resurrect, it would be just his body. Arome realized that, regardless of how stacked the odds were against him, if he got up this time, he had to either escape or make sure both hounds died. Or it would be the end for him…permanently.

He took a deep breath and lurched up. He knew the hounds would be waiting for him, he had just not expected that it was right above his face. He panicked, from the gaze this hound gave him, Arome was sure that it was also aware that Arome could only die one more time. Another death and it would be able to claim his soul for good. And if his soul is gone, then there would be no more resurrections. The knowledge of how significant a consequence it would be for his soul to be tampered with, seemed seared to the back of his mind. And right now the hound in front of him was about to make those consequences a reality.

He panicked, swinging his right arm to push the hound back, while his left hand grabbed on to anything he could lay his hands on. As the Infernal Hound brought its jaws filled with very dangerous fangs down towards his neck. With a loud smack, Arome suddenly slammed a hard object he had just found into the hound's face. The hound yelped, more from the shock than it was from the pain.

But there was a little opening and Arome took it. He smashed the object one more time into the side of the demon’s face, blasting it to the side as it yelped again. The other hound barked, but with its blinded eyes it really couldn’t do much.

Arome wanted to keep his advantage and leaped onto the back of the demon. The object came down, this time with significant force. So much that the legs of the hounds crumpled beneath them from the combined force of Arome’s weight and the bludgeoning damage the hound was receiving.

Arome screamed at it, his hands going up and down, his mind clouded in a haze of rage, blood lust, fear and pain. Adrenaline surged up all over his body, as the object he had been using was blasted to pieces, coating his hands in even more gore as only a piece of it was left in his hand… a jaw bone.

Arome could not help himself as he turned over and threw up. Or he at least attempted to, as his completely emptied stomach rebelled against him. The gore was nothing compared to the madness of using your own severed head to kill a demon. It was his own brain matter, blood and pieces of skull that he held in his hand, a part of his own body.

Arome screamed and stabbed with both hands. The jaw bone's edge, with the addition of his full weight, was enough to perforate the skull of the hound. It did not release so much as a whimper as its form turned to dust, leaving behind the terrible stench of Sulfur and brimstone.

His body crashed into the dust, causing the third hound to start barking erratically. Arome ignored it, his mind still at war with itself over his current experiences. Not a single time spent in the air force had been enough to prepare him for this. Not when he assassinated local tribal leaders, or sowed the seeds of dissent in other villages, towns, cities, and kingdoms to make sure he stood strong. Not when he set villages on fire, and watched whole families burn to death.

No wonder it was so damn easy for the hounds to tug at his soul, dragging it ever slowly to hell. He had done many wrongs in the name of duty and redemption. Not that he’d act any differently if given the opportunity. He was raised to have a much firmer belief in his decisions, especially when lives depended on it.

But it was hard to not feel like he was being punished. He has been changed, broken, and scarred. Even in a world with such fantastic abilities, not many can withstand dying so many times, and each time you did, your soul kept crawling closer and ever closer to the abyss, to hell. The panic you’d feel about slowly running out of time and being helpless to do anything, would ruin your mind and spirit before you get the chance to even start acting.  The blind hound started barking. Perhaps it had sensed the demise of its partner and realized it was the only one left.

“Stupid dog!”

Arome cursed as he turned with annoyance, and smashed his feet into the side of the barking hound’s jaw. He put enough force behind the kick to daze the demon, as its head smashed into the side of the elevator. Arome reacted quickly by sliding forwards, which was made even easier with all the blood and gore in the elevator.

His left hand raised the head of the hound, slamming it backwards again, against the elevator wall. His slide had built enough momentum for him to snap the demon’s head a bit, causing an audible crack to be heard as Arome stabbed what remained of his jaw bone into the demon's neck, and wrenched upwards, spilling it’s throat open as blackish red demon blood spilled out.

“Argh! How do you like that!” Arome roared in victory before an acrid smell spread within the elevator.

Arome gagged at the stench as he got back up to his feet, his face covered with blood and tears and his body still shaking from the adrenaline. He could feel it though, his soul edging back from the plunge into the abyss. It seems it was not his power that had hit a limit, just its defense against the hounds, constantly killing him and attempting to send his soul straight to hell. This was why he really hated mystic type superheroes and villains the most.

“They’re always messing things up.” Arome said to himself, as he ran his hand through his hair. He at least knew what to avoid now that he had gained power. “I had better get moving, before something else comes to eat me.” Arome said as he looked around at the carnage within the elevator. Staying here would be a mistake, and with all the noise he and these hounds have been making? He was sure the goons or cultists they were partnered with would be coming for them soon. And true to his fears, the worst outcome happened.

“Well, what do we have here boys?” Arome couldn’t help it as he cursed out loud.

“Damn it!”

“Aww come on, we’re not that bad. Well, do you want to come out, or should I come in there and drag you out myself?” the person chuckled, mirth and malice entwined with his voice. “ I assure you it would be more painful.” Arome almost felt inclined to curse, but given his current situation he didn’t see how that would help him.

He heaved himself up and out of the elevator, rolling out with a boot straight to the face. His nose was immediately broken, and his lips busted open. This guy was strong, but he was at least within human boundaries. Even among supers, super strength was not too common. Whatever this guy’s power was, his body was vulnerable, it was human.

Now he just had to size up the rest of the man’s partners.  Four others, including the person who had been speaking. All of them were armed to the teeth, except for the person who was kicking him. But given he had glowing spiky blue hair, all the way from to the roots. Arome was sure this guy was different.

“Well, what happened to you?” one of the goons asked, as Arome got back up to his feet. He winced, using his hand to cup his broken nose, the pain was almost blinding. It was really hard to breathe with the damage to his nose, but still Arome pushed through. He has been through much worse than a broken nose.

“I had a run in with some of your hounds? It did not exactly turn out well for them” Arome said as he tried to catch his breath. “And neither will it for you.” He finished as he shifted his attention to them and raised his hands up in a boxing stance. The goons looked at each other, to them perhaps it might seem as if Arome had lost his mind. Given his sorry state, PTSD was not off the table.

“You can see that we have guns, right?”  Arome dropped his hands and sighed.

“Do bad guys always talk this much? So what if you have guns? Two of you are more likely to blow your own legs off with the way you’re holding it, and one has his safety on, and the last has his safety off, finger on the trigger and the muzzle of the gun pointed in his partner’s direction.” Arome sneered at them. “You’re all a bunch of amateurs.”

Arome’s words were rather dull and lifeless, and with a blank look on his face. It gave off an unshaken and unafraid vibe. It was not just the way with which he spoke, but the absolute look of disdain he gave them. His arrogance at seeing them as amateurs, his countenance and the look on his face told them he was superior. They were dirt under his feet, and they meant nothing, they were nothing. And somehow, this sight of Arome and his sheer presence, had so much impact, the goons made no move to attack. A notification screen popped into view in front of Arome. He quickly dismissed it, but not before he heard the system say it within his mind.

 

“The Presence stat is active!”

 

The notification surprised Arome, but he was still able to push it to the side as he gazed at the goons. He was astounded that they had not taken any action. It seemed to them he felt like he was a figure of authority. His presence just seemed to have a little more weight to it and felt spread out, to fill the entire hallway. And it was still increasing, deepening and making Arome seem like he was larger than life. Arome, on the other hand, was getting more surprised by the minute.

“It’s him! He’s doing something to our minds! Kill him! Shoot him! Shoot him!” the goon who had been doing all the talking devolved into a panicked mess. And the rest of them followed, as even Arome, could not escape the frantic manner with which they turned their weapons on him.

*Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!*

Arome felt each bullet, until he couldn’t feel them again. As he faded into the darkness once again, he heard the goons talking among themselves.

“See! Don’t you feel normal now?” the one responsible for his recent death said. “He must have some sort of mind power!” the voice of lightning super… or was it electricity? Said with what sounded like a sigh of relief. “It’s good he’s dead, oh my God that was so scary!” the first goon said, even going as far as making a sign of the cross, as if to ward off evil. The lightning super growled in annoyance, as another goon responded to the first goon.

“Really? We’re here sacrificing people to demons and you’re calling God? Not cool Bruce.”

“Don’t say that, we’re not sacrificing people to the devil!... Wait, are we? Are we demon worshipers?” the first goon, now identified as Bruce, asked.

“Oh, for the love of-“

“Don’t say God! We’re bad people! We’re demon worshipers!”

“Oh shut it! Bruce! We’re not demon worshipers, but even if we are so, what? Do you want to go back to the bloody canning factory, working for minimum wage? While the rest of the world looks on and mocks you for existing! Now come on! Let’s get out of here, this guy gives me the creeps.”

Arome heard the sound of them walking away, as his heart finally slowed down to nothing. But not before he received one final notification.

“Presence is passive”