[The Kill List]—❈—03:: Lizards Eat Bugs, You Know

Taylor Hebert was a dumbass.

She would argue vehemently if you ever called her that to her face, of course, but that wouldn’t stop it from being true; Taylor Hebert was the biggest fucking dumbass in the universe.

Worse, she was a suicidal dumbass.

Now, you’re probably thinking to yourself; “Are the harsh words really necessary? I mean, the girl isn’t the brightest, true, but, you must understand that she’s young and dealing with a bucketload of emotional and psychological issues, hardly anyone could be expected of sensible decision-making in such a situation.”

And you know what? You would be right. I should take that into account.

But, here’s the thing though, I have taken it into account, and that’s why I only say that Taylor Hebert is the biggest fucking dumbass in the universe, and not, in fact, that Taylor Hebert is the biggest fucking dumbass in the multiverse (which, I don’t have to tell you, is infinitely larger than the universe).

As for why I believe her to be that big a dumbass, well, for the average person, when a stranger shows up at your house twelve whole hours before when you plan to start a solo hero career you told no one about, proceeds to tell you not to even think about said hero career, and then supernaturally bitch-slaps you when you try to stand your ground… well, for most people that would be a clear sign that they should stay home… and maybe also inform the authorities that there’s a pretty dangerous motherfucker who can probably see the future running around town.

What they certainly wouldn’t do, is what Taylor did; which is, put on the suit she was told not to put on, sneak out of the house she was told not to leave, and go start the hero career she was told not to even think about. Proving, without doubt, that she was the biggest fucking dumbass in the universe… also known as a protagonist.

She left home around 11:30 p.m., mask off and with a shady ass trench coat on to hide her costume, then she headed over to one of the most crime-ridden areas of the city, hoping, like any good, proper human being, to find acceptable targets to beat up to make herself feel better, I mean er… to find criminals to bring to justice. Yes, that.

Anyway, the first two hours were a major disappointment as Taylor encountered zero crime.

Street after street all she saw were regular night owls, most of them homeless, who went out of their way to avoid her.

At first, Taylor viewed them with suspicion. After all, why would they avoid a hero on patrol if they weren’t up to no good.

After a while though, when she caught her reflection in one of the less filthy storefronts, Taylor had to admit that she did not look heroic. At all. She looked creepy, and dangerous, like some evil thing that crawled out of a child’s nightmare.

The black of her suit seemed to be one with the night, her mask the visage of a monstrous creature from the pits of hell. Even her hair, of which she’d always been so proud, seemed to frame the mask like some demonic halo.

Suddenly, Taylor didn’t feel cool and confident anymore… she didn’t feel like a hero. She just felt awkward, small… silly.

She felt like Taylor Hebert.

And Taylor Hebert wanted to go home.

But then Taylor remembered the unmasked cape who’d showed up at her house that morning; the cape who’d told her that she might as well give up on being a hero because she was obviously going to be bad at it anyway.

Stubborn mule that she was, Taylor’s resolve hardened.

Fuck Black Leg, and fuck The Trio (no, they had nothing to do with this, Taylor just liked telling them off in her head every chance she got).

Taylor was going to be a hero even if it killed her. And she was going to be a damn good one too.

Sometime later, closer to three a.m. than two, she got her chance:

“Shoot the kids… If you see one of the little shits on the ground, shoot them again.”

Kids! Lung was planning to kill kids!

Taylor didn’t let herself think or second guess her decision, she didn’t have the time; Lung and his men were about to get into cars. If they did, she would lose them, and that would be it.

Peeking from behind the building she was, Taylor readied herself, then, reaching out with her power, she grabbed hold of the millions of bugs within her range and brought them upon the ABB members like a wave of chittering, skittering retribution.

The non-powered members lasted seconds before breaking and running, and it took Taylor a moment to realize that it wasn’t out of panic of her bugs, but to put distance between themselves and Lung.

When people think of Lung, they think of a dragon. Even the villain clearly considers himself a dragon, going so far as to adopt the name for himself.

This wasn’t very accurate though.

See, dragons breathe fire; Lung controls it.

Not with any great degree of precision, but he could do it nonetheless, and so, surrounded by enough bugs to quite literally blot out the sun (if it had been daytime anyway), Lung did as Lung did and lit up the night with raging fire.

If you’ve ever seen a moth fly into a candle flame, you know that bugs don’t do well in open flames; their wings burn easy, their legs are jokes, and most are so small, flash roasting them barely even requires a lit match.

Consequently, when Lung started throwing fire around the place, Taylor’s bugs died in droves.

The advantage to being a big controller however, was not the might of the individual, it was numbers, and even Lung was beholden to that.

Lung’s fire scorched Taylor’s bugs by the thousands, yet more came.

Eventually, inevitably, some made it through. Barely ten percent of the numbers sent at the villain, but ten percent of millions was enough.

The problem only came when that ten percent began to attack Lung.

Lung’s power ramped up to match the threat facing him. So, before venomous spiders and bees and all the other nasty shit Taylor brought to bear began to try and murder Lung, to his power, this was pretty much just another day at the office.

When they started to inject him with enough venom to put down a bear though, things got serious.

The more bugs that stung Lung, the bigger he got, the faster he healed, and the tougher his skin became.

Taylor tried to aim for his eyes and orifices, but Lung simply closed his eyes and focused on blasting fire at his own head.

Since that failed, she tried to go for his groin next, but Lung had two arms, and he was insane enough to not hesitate to blast fire at his dick too, likely because he was largely resistant to his flames and whatever injuries he did sustain simply fueled his transformation.

Taylor pressed her attack, and it was only when she noticed that Lung was now over seven feet, and growing taller, that she wondered if maybe going up against the villain known for soloing an Endbringer with fucking bug powers was a terrible idea.

She didn’t have to wonder long.

The farther his transformation Lung got, the better his senses became, and they’d grown so sharp now, that the villain’s hearing picked up Taylor’s breathing from where she was, even through all the bugs and burning flames.

His slitted yellow eyes sought her out like homing missiles, and Taylor felt the burn of his gaze land on her.

“You’re dead,” Lung said.

“Fuck,” Taylor muttered.

She tried to run, she really did, and if someone had asked Taylor before this moment how well she expected she would perform if she ever needed to run from danger, she would have been decently confident.

After all, for two months and change she’d done nothing but run.

Taylor tripped over her own feet before she even took two steps.

Flat on her ass, she watched death come for her in the form of a seven foot tall, shirtless, tattooed man wreathed in flames.

To Taylor’s credit, even now she didn’t give up, attacking in the only way that was available to her.

But Lung was too big, too tough, too fast, he was on her in a second.

There was no monologuing, no grandiose speech. Lung didn’t even try to take a moment to enjoy it. Nope, he just rushed right at her and swung a massive fist at her head.

There was a blur, then a crack! like striking gravel, and Lung flew back like he’d been launched from a cannon.

A figure landed in front of Taylor, and the girl recognized the suit immediately.

“You,” she said.

Black Leg turned and regarded her, the expression on his face one of irritation and disgust.

The spark of rage that had shouldered in Taylor’s chest since meeting the unmasked cape yesterday morning flared.

“What are you—” Taylor began right as Black Leg reached down and grabbed her.

The world blurred.

Black Leg deposited her roughly on a rooftop, and Taylor quickly swiped her mask off her face and hurled.

Taking a moment to breathe and settle her system after the immense speeds she’d been subjected to, Taylor looked around, they were blocks away.

Barely three seconds of movement, and Black Leg had carried her several blocks away from Lung.

What the hell? Could even Velocity move that fast?

She looked at the unmasked cape. He was still giving her that look?

Taylor scowled.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Black Leg spoke over her.

“What if you’d died?” he asked and Taylor’s mouth clicked shut.

Black Leg wasn’t done.

“What if your father had woken up tomorrow to the cops at his door telling him they’d recovered his daughter’s charred remains?

“Or, worse, what if Lung damaged your body beyond identification, and your Dad woke up tomorrow to find you gone? No note, no explanation, no answers. What do you think that would do to him?”

The worst part was, Black Leg didn’t sound angry. He didn’t even sound accusatory. He mostly just seemed genuinely confused now, like he couldn’t understand how anybody could ever be so thoughtless.

It infuriated Taylor, even as his words pierced into her heart like a lance.

Taylor opened her mouth to speak again, but once again, Black Leg spoke over her.

“I’m taking you home,” he said.

Taylor’s eyes bugged out.

“What!?” she asked.

“I’m taking you home,” Black Leg repeated. “And you should be glad that’s all I’m doing; if I didn’t know that it’ll likely drive you to suicide or something equally drastic, I would take your power.”

It took Taylor’s brain a moment to process those last words, and when she did, her blood ran cold.

“Yeah,” Black Leg said, seeing her expression, “think about that.”

And then he took her home.

—❈—

When Daniel Hebert (Danny to everyone) was woken by the incessant ringing of his doorbell at 03:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, he’d wondered if maybe this was some sort of elaborate break-in attempt.

When he’d checked to see who was at the door, and found a young man in a suit that looked to cost his mortgage, and his petrified daughter (who he’d thought was upstairs in bed) in some sort of… bug costume, Danny knew he was going to be needing a shit-ton of coffee to get through this.