[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/RkFZD7E.jpg?1[/img][/center] [i]All right, people, let’s do this for one last - Wait, seriously? ‘Who are you?’ That’s your first question? All right,then. Let’s do this for the first time ever. My name is Herman Schultz. You may have heard of me. For the last five years, I’ve been hiding in Dakota City as Harry Schumer, chemistry teacher at Hemingway High. Once upon a time, I was once the infamous Shocker of New York City. Or so I wished. I’ve robbed banks. I’ve staged heists. Got a little lonely. I then formed my own team of villains known as the Sinister Syndicate whose members include the Clock King, the Wall, Kite-Man, Stilt-Man - yes, those are all real villains. Don’t expect me to explain their names - Condiment King and me. So, after that, we robbed some more banks together. We staged more heists together. We fought some superheroes together. We ran away like cowards together. We drank together. We went bowling together. Word of advice for those who see the Wall, don’t let him near your supply of beer. Then, after 16 years of all of that, I finally got my Wikipedia page. I broke my shoulder. Things went south during our last job together. We….fell out with one another, but luckily, I had a backup plan. Being a teacher has given me time to retrospect about who I was. See, I’ve never been caught or arrested. Ever. I went into supervillainy for the jobs. The deals that would set you up for life. Forever. I’d never been the type of guy who was interested in plans of world domination or poisoning a city’s water supply. I just wanted money. I’ve taken pride in the fact that I’ve never killed or purposely injured someone during one of my jobs. Maybe, that’s why I’ve never gotten a lick of respect. Maybe, people just prefer their villains to be monsters more than human. Funny thing you should know. After I retired, everyone knew Harry Schumer but no one knew the Shocker. Not one single person. I wonder how the other guys are doing now. Fast forward to present. I was driving to my house. Ready to book it out of Dakota City after hearing how the guy who stole my suit was wrecking the town. Saw some metahuman tailing me. Ambushed them. Turns out that… my star student, Virgil, is Static. That was a shocker. So, here I am taking out a can of soda for him and wondering how my life ended up at this point……………………...[/i] [hr] Virgil felt trapped, even though the smooth sky-blue wall-paint and the domestic urban furniture tried to assure him that he was going to be fine. He knew that the foundations of the house were built on a mountain of robbed cash and crime. The interiors of the house were sparsely decorated with all of the basic necessities. A TV. A fridge. A kitchen sink. The lawn was overgrowing, weeds at the edges, looking as if it hadn’t been mowed in a while. There were no photos at all. No family photos. No photos with friends laid around. Overall, it looked pretty lonely. “ Hey, you a fan of Coke or Pepsi? Can’t give you anything else since you’re underage….” No response. Virgil only noticed the question a few seconds later as if he was a lagging computer before Herman spoke again. “ I’ll wager you as a Coke guy, then.” Herman Schutz, not Harry Schumer, or otherwise known as the Shocker was currently searching through the contents of an opened fridge. He took out a six pack of beer cans and a single red-one which he couldn’t make out the brand of. Finding out that his chemistry teacher who was also the vigilante who may or may not have broken his arm had a taste for cheap beer was the least weirdest thing today. “ I saw your resignation letter. Is it true? You’re leaving Hemingway High?” Virgil looked at Herman expectedly, waiting for an answer. Herman pried the ring of the aluminium can open, a thin hiss issuing out followed by the melody of carbonated bubbling. Herman turned back over towards him, holding two drink cans, one a Budweiser and the other a can of Coca-Cola, probably to give to him. He slid the cherry-red one over towards Virgil before taking a sip of his own. “ Kid, I’m not sure what’s true anymore,” Herman closed his eyes, letting out an exhale of relief. They sat silent, staring at each other pensively from each end of the table. Herman then motioned towards the Cola can, shooting a annoyed stare at him. “Virgil, trust me. No one poisons a can of Coke” Static shook his head slowly. His voice was hollow as he cracked open the soft drink “ No, it’s not that. I’m just still trying to process all of this.” “ Well, if it’s all the same to you, I’m feeling about the same.” Herman snorted. “ Virgil Hawkins and Static. One in the same. Who would have guessed?” Virgil looked upwa How…..how’d - Why come here to Dakota City? Why work as a chemistry teacher?” “ You ever heard of the Sinister Syndicate?” Virgil gave a quick shake. Herman shrugged in disappointment. “Figures. We weren’t all that popular back in New York City.” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “ Who’s we?” Herman looked away, lost in reminiscence, as he slowly spoke each and every word to make sure he didn’t get a single detail wrong. “ Clock King, Kite-Man, the Trapster, Stilt-Man, Condiment King, the Wall and finally, me, the Shocker.” Virgil scoffed.“ Seriously? Condiment King? The Wall? They sound more like saturday morning cartoon villains.” “ Would you let me finish?,” Herman asked before continuing on. “ Kite-Man operated as the getaway guy. Clock King was always the brains. The Wall and the Stilt Man were our heavies. The Condiment King was the chem expert. The Trapster was our tech guy and I? - ” A infectious smile of nostalgia appeared on Herman’s face “ I was the cracker. The best damn safecracker on the East Coast. We were all good friends. For a time.” Virgil watched as Herman’s smile became sour, his brown brow furrowed with a storm of bad memories. “ Needless to say, it didn’t last forever. We broke up the gang after a job…” Herman drawed out the word. “ a job went bad. I had a guy make a set of forged papers for me just in case. I travelled to Dakota City by bus, signed up onto a school with the lowest teacher requirements and bought a house here with the money I had.” Herman took another sip as Virgil looked downwards for a few moments, his coke can untouched. Virgil then inched closer to the table. “ Could you help me?” asked Virgil “ At least, tell me who stole the suit so I can find them.” A flash of embarrassment crossed Herman’s face “ I would if I could. I didn’t manage to see their face and I didn’t manage to get their name. Whoever took it was smart. He knew how I operated. How I would react. He broke into my home, disarmed my traps and took a prototype of my shock gauntlets. I managed to grab ahold of him but he broke my nose and then, booked it out of here.” Herman pointed over Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil turned around and saw a boarded up hole in the middle of the wall, as if a rhinoceros had been let loose inside his home. “ You said this guy broke your arm.” Herman leaned back on his chair, arms crossed. “ How confident are you that he won’t break something else next time?” “ Next time, I’ll be more careful.” Herman looked to the side and repeated Virgil’s words in a mocking fashion.“ Sure. Sure. More careful. Does your dad know about this?” “ No, I’ve made sure not to tell hi-” “ Good.” Herman finished off the can of beer, crumpling it up in his fist. “ Because I would be more concerned if he approved of what you were doing right now.” Virgil rolled his eyes. “ Look, I’ve heard this all already so why don’t you just stop being patronising and let me be?” Herman suddenly stood up, placing both of his hands onto the table, before speaking with palpable anger in his voice. “ I’m different from all those other people. I’m not some civilian, some news reporter, a radio pundit or even your best friend. I’ve played this game of cops and robbers before. I’ve faced plenty of superheroes before. So, listen closely. You’re not Wonder Woman. You’re not Captain America. You’re a young seventeen year old boy - “ “ I’ve got powers!,” Virgil exclaimed whilst interjecting Herman in the middle of his rant. “ I’ve been doing this for one month - “ “ - A young seventeen year boy! If you’re not careful, before you’re twenty, you’ll end up like….” Herman’s voice trailed off into a soft whisper as he sat back on his chair, looking defeated. He avoided the look of Virgil’s eyes, flinching as pain tore him apart from the inside. “ End up like what?,” asked Virgil. Herman didn’t respond for a while, his fingers intertwined together in a ball of cold sweated skin. He then began to speak, his voice empty and vacant of any mirth that had once been on his person. “ Back in 2011, me and the gang were planning another heist. This time, we’re going all in. We’re planning to hit the New York Stock Exchange. The Wall had gone on vacation in the Bahamas so we needed another heavy guy. We start advertising, calling in favours but no one wants to work with us. In comes a newcomer.” Herman’s eyes narrowed in disgust. “ Larry Buchinsky. Went by the name of Electrocutioner. Tells you the type of guy he is, doesn’t it? He’s fresh. Impressionable. Enthusiastic. Too enthusiastic. Said he was a fan for me. Me and Clock could see that he just...wasn’t all right. Something was off about him when we made him the seventh member of our group. Kite vouched for him since he was the one who brought him into the fold.” Herman paused for a moment, tapping on the table and taking a breathe in. “ Before all that, we’d been tangling with this young vigilante for the couple of past months. We wagered that he was a few years older than you. He went by the name of the Crimson Avenger. You know, the old crime-fighter? Sort of the classic type. Wore a cape. He tended to monologue every time he met us, like he was in an old cartoon. He’d been operating in New York for a few months. Clock thought that he looked like a college kid. The kid had guts, I gotta say. Made the jobs a little bit more exciting. ” Herman looked down, away, in shame. “ We start doing the job. All went well until the Crimson Avenger knocked out Kite when we were hauling out all of the loot at the back of the vault. I tell Clock and the others to get away while me and Buchinsky would create a distraction. I blast the fire extinguishers. The entire hallway turns misty white. I blast down a nearby wall and shout for Buchinsky to follow me. Buchinsky….Buchinsky goes straight for the kid like a coiled cobra. Started wailing on Avenger with his own electro-knuckles.” Herman’s face was beginning to turn white. “Me? I just stood there like I was supposed to. I didn’t even bother to help the kid until I heard a cry of ‘Mom!’. That got to me. Really got to me. I knocked him off the Avenger but I was too late. There was so much blood that I couldn’t even make out his face. By the time we both made it out of there, I asked Buchinsky for an explanation. Herman’s teeth gritted together as he growled out the next two sentences. “ Buchinsky didn’t even shed a tear. Started asking whether or not I was on his side. Said that it was necessary. ” “ I almost wanted to turn myself in that day. All of us did. I showed them the evidence. The dried blood on his gauntlets. Buchinsky admitting to us. I can still remember his smile. It was like he took satisfaction in it. Stilt blamed Kite for bringing him in. Kite blamed me for allowing him to kill Avenger under my watch. Clock stayed silent, like usual. That’s the story of how the Sinister Syndicate split apart. I never took up the mask again.” Virgil stayed silent, fingers trembling in shock. Herman sniffled, breathing in and out, gagging at the foulness of remembering his deeds. “ The thing is, when I see you now, I see the Crimson Avenger. I see your dad crying in the morgue. You don’t have to be the hero, kid. No one ever asked you to be.”