Henchmen
by J.P. Yager
Copyright: Joseph P. Yager 2012
All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified, or distributed without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder. For permission, contact
[email protected].
Other works by the author
Short Stories:
Thief
Life After
The Interview
Story Night
Cerberus
Anthologies:
This Road Darkens
Novels:
Void Star
Strategy of the Tide*
(*forthcoming)
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Behind a door marked Private, laden in smoke and bogged down by hours of drinking sat five individuals. Each were easily a head or two taller than the average citizen with muscles attached like two fat pigs to their shoulders. There were many little things that distinguished one from the other, but the important difference in their world was the color of their clothing. Superheroes and super villains alike chose their threads and they had to follow suite, though clearly less extravagantly.
Grundel, dressed in a muddy red jumpsuit, oversized shoulder pads and an off-color codpiece, was the largest. Though, he had called them all together, he was far from their leader. He put his cigar down and washed the ashy taste off his tongue with stale beer. “I’m glad you all made it.” He began, wiping his chin of any access liquid.
“As if I had anything better to do.” Fester chortled. He was the oldest and the wiriest. He sported a faded dark gray occult robe like the aged mare he was creating a stark contrast to his white colorless hair that he was required to hide underneath a rusty helmet. He took the others in and smiled. “As you all know my last employer, Black Rune, is in jail again, I guess I have time for this.” He removed the helmet and unwound his long hair.
“I don’t.” This was Roach, clad in puke yellow. He was the youngest, the ugliest and smelled like he appeared. Roach was required to dress in things pieced together from a landfill which went to explain most of his appearance and the fragrance cloud that followed. “The Vandal King is carrying out his plan to take over the world as we speak. I should be with my team.”
Barracks barked a laugh. “You know Mr. Magnificent or Captain Comet will stop him. They always do.” Barracks was black wearing white. His employer required his men to wear pads like they were all going to meet at the roller rink. The pads themselves did little to protect him and mostly hampered his movements.
Roach waved Barracks off like he was a pest. “Tonight will be different.”
“Don’t we always say that?” Fester asked. His honesty took himself by surprise.
Squeak just laughed. She never really did much besides that. Dressed in the pink like all henchmen of Demona Fire, she eyed each ones apparent disdain for the other, though they were all friends as much as their line of work allowed. Her threads had rosy red lights that came on at random intervals like an off season Christmas tree.
Grundel usually wanted to punch Roach’s face in, like on most days, but henchmen ethics forbade attacking one another, especially ones who worked for separate evil super villains. You didn’t want to start a war between the powerful and insane. Patience was required for the moment. “Detonator is also making his move tonight, but I didn’t feel like getting pummeled by Max Justice or Mrs. Ultimate.” He scratched at his codpiece. “And it’s getting harder to explain to my boy how his father keeps getting beat up with one punch from a girl.” In fact, it was hard to explain anything to his son that didn’t make him look like an utter failure. That’s really what prompted this meeting. But his plan was against every rule in the book.
Barracks saw the pain behind Grundel’s words. He remembered when he used to work for Detonator, back when he was Animal Rex and before the radiation had changed him. He was glad he worked for the Inquisitor if only for the decent dental plan and promotion opportunities within the organization. “If you didn’t bring us to reminisce or to recruit us, why did you ask us to come?”
Before Grundel could answer, Fester interrupted. “Wait, I assumed you were going to get me into your association. Since the Inquisitor destroyed half of Mega City with that army of hydras, it’s been hard trying to get enough money to make it by. I’ve stooped so low I have to work for Black Rune. I think he’s truly lost it this time.”
Grundel held a hand up to allow them all to let him speak. Roach didn’t hide his eagerness to hear what could be better than world domination. Grundel ashed his cigar. “Let me begin with a question. Have you ever noticed that we’re always preparing for the next takeover and just as we’re about to win, some idiot super hero shows up and in less than ten minutes everything we’ve worked for is crushed?”
“Of course, my boy.” Fester slammed his fist on the table. “But what else can we do? We have to keep trying until something works.”
Barracks hummed to himself for a moment. “And it takes so much time to work your way up. I’m almost assistant to the Head of Henchmen.” He drummed his fingers absentmindedly. “But I have to admit, being beat up by a little kid like the Young Magician is embarrassing.”
“It is.” Grundel butted back in. “I’m sick of working for nothing. We barely get paid and I know there’s always a big payout promised when the plan comes to fruition, but we never get to collect because we’re stopped. Don’t you see that? Like when I worked to help build a massive space station for Black Rune, which should take years to build mind you, we did it in a matter of weeks, and then just as we’re about to unleash a mind control ray, Captain Comet shows up and blows the place up. Countless henchmen were killed in the explosion.” Fester nodded knowingly across from him. “Really only a handful of us survived and Comet and Detonator. Then not two days later, Detonator escaped and started hiring. We had to construct an underwater base by the next weekend. I really don’t know how we pulled it off, but we do it again, and then boom, Comet again, we lose and it starts over.”
Squeak laughed, but she nodded as well.
“We don’t even know if we do get anything if our bosses ever win. I mean I’ve also had thoughts of what kind of an economy we would go to after destroying mankind and enslaving them. It’s hard to see how it could support itself. Regardless, I have devised my own scheme.”
“Blasphemus!” Roach threw his hands in the air and spilled half the table’s drinks. “You know henchmen can’t rise above the ranks without some kind of evil super power or riches and intelligence. It goes against union rules. People like us don’t scheme Grundel.”
“We’re henchmen. Of course we do.” Barracks interjected. “We’re just as bad as our leaders.” He indicated his white sleeveless uniform and ridiculous amount of padding. “At least we all dress like we are.”
“Why do we even agree to call superheroes what they want to be called?” Squeak squeaked. “Shouldn’t we call them things that are degrading instead of uplifting?”
Everyone paused to look at her and said nothing. She laughed in turn.
Grundel shook his head and continued. “My plan is small time, but with the five of us doing it, it will be much more successful, though still small time enough to not get anyone’s attention.”
Grundel paused as the pudgy barkeep rounded on them. “Wrap it up. Word is the Ice Queen is about to attack this part of the city and the Young Magician is about to stop her. It’s going to get ugly and I don’t feel like giving them an excuse to destroy this place for the third time this year. Insurance premiums…you understand.”
“Thanks for the heads up. We’re almo
st finished.” Grundel told him.
The barkeep left them and started boarding up the windows.
“You’re too nice.” Roach hissed. “I woulda just popped him one.”
Barracks smacked Roach upside his head. “And get us thrown out for good? There’s very few places left in this city to hang out and you want to get us banned from a decent one? Smart.” The dark-skinned man turned back to Grundel. “Alright, let’s hear this so we can go.”
“We can actually start tonight with everyone busy fighting each other. That’s actually part of the plan. Alright…now here’s my idea.”
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Mr. Magnificent was down on the ground, the life draining from him. Somehow the Vandal King had figured out his weakness and had him trapped in a room full of them. The thing that gave him his power and his abilities to heal was the connection to the fifth realm. Strangely, Earth’s first guardians, the river otter, used the powers of the first realm which override the fifth. Put them both in a room and he would die of overexposure. He didn’t even have the strength to smash them one at a time. They stared at him like they had no idea what they were doing to him.
“Looks like this is it.” The Vandal King chuckled over him. “When the clock strikes midnight, all my people will break into Knox and all this world’s wealth will be mine. With all