A Cat With A Hard Drive...

The wrinkles around the eyes. That was the secret. It took all over two weeks for the Man of Justice to perfect it. After that, his pearly white smile was stapled across every magazine across The United States, across every thumbnail on fangirl Youtube videos, and even in a nomination for the sexiest man alive Although the Super Man acted like he didn't accept the compliments, deep down, as down as a penny is in a bowl of cereal, he basked in it. He loved the attention. Enough so that he'd get the right sponsorships, the right commercials and social media shout-outs, and enough so that plenty of women would try and sneak in his bed. But he never let them get too close. With notoriety comes complications. A god such as himself could handle that though.

So he didn't mind standing on a red carpet, alongside celebrities like Cruise, Fox, Washington, and other A and B listers. Because he was the A of the rarest A. He was the world’s most powerful superhero after all. He saved the world countless times, from cyborgs to zombies, even a god of dragons. He always came out on top. Heck, he heard there was even a cult in Africa worshipping him. He didn't pay them any mind though. His mind was on other things. 

It looked like a warm friendly hand on her shoulder, but Man of Justice just disguised his lust for the actress with that. The way her tan skin hugged under the black silky dress, her eyelashes, and how they emphasized her warm glowing brown eyes and how they lit up when she looked at him. He could have any woman he wanted. Any. And he was hungry, so very hungry for Natalie Emery, two Emmy winners and in line for the sexiest woman alive. He had other hot celebrities before, women and men alike, but Natalie had a spark in her. Maybe it was her petite figure, but he knew it was the fact that she was still young and vibrant. Fresh. She was barely eighteen after all.

As he took those glamorous photos beside the women, his ears heard him. A mile away, riding in his silent jet ready to hover over the event, just so he can skydive in with his cape and steal the scene. The Puma. He followed the opening whirring of hangar doors opening and heard the rushing of a cape meteor faster and fast until a caped crusader landed in the center of the red carpet, sending the crowd in a heap of chaotic screaming. The Puma. Protector of Los Angeles, some titling him as the “World’s greatest crime fighter.” A skilled martial artist in navy and black armored suit with a cat-shaped cowl hiding his lifeless eyes behind glowing yellow lenses. It was a fraction of a second, but Man of Justice saw it. The slight uptake of the side of Puma’s lips. He was holding back a smile. The narcissist wanted so bad for everyone to bow to him. Heck even in Los Angeles, some hobos worshipped him as well. He saved the city countless times from psychopathic mimes to giant mutant gorillas in the sewers.  Yet to Man on Justice, he was only one thing: an asshole.

Man of Justice hid his contempt for the man with a pearly white smile. He walked over to his shorter companion, his red and white cape billowing in the wind, star emblem on his chest more puffed out showing his muscular physique ready to rip out of his crimson and gold costume. The Puma turned around and shook his hand. To the crowd the world’s finest met again, to help raise money for a charity to help feed starving kids in Africa. Man of Justice knew that the Puma had those Africans at the bottom of his list to save. The Cat-like vigilante had a secret that the only Man of Justice and the rest of the Council knew- he was an avid racist. Although he was born in the slums of South America, growing up-or ruling half of it- he had a fondness to express his hate for blacks. Though he talked and “empathized” with the struggles of Blacks and Latinos alike, he always saved his lust to slit the throats of any “coons” he could find in alleyways, robbing stupid tourists, or even just sleeping a drunken night away. 

Man of Justice and The Puma turned, hands still clasped together, and smiled for the flashing cameras. At least Man Of Justice did. Puma had to keep a reputation as the dark brooding type. Man of justice just wanted to roll his eyes at the pompous lowlife. To him, he was a lowlife. Low enough to hate blacks, but smile at one such as Man of Justice himself.  The superman’s skin glazed a light brown and hair was short and dark, lips full, and eyes muddy brown. To the women, he was a decadent treat. To Puma, he needed to be in chains.

After the flashing pictures were done, the two walked side by side with each other, speaking under low whispers as they walked into the gala. “Puma.” Man of Justice said. “Derek,” Puma said. Man of Justice felt his skin crawl as the man said It. Although many couldn't hear it, Man of Justice could. His super hearing never failed him. He could hear the relaxed muscles under the carbon composite suit of armor, the way Puma held a chuckle in his throat. For a sociopath, he sure did have a sense of humor. Derek thought of a thousand ways to kill that man. He was thinking of flying him up to the exosphere and watching as his lifeless corpse drifted off into frozen space. But he knew that would lead to catastrophe. It was why Puma agreed to meet with him that night.

The gala was only a show; four hours later, after handshakes, selfies, and talks with boring old men trying to raise the mood from their mid-life-crisis wives looking down at Man of Justice’s crotch, the two ‘heroes” had a moment alone. They stood, on a closed balcony, away from the party, away from prying eyes, from gazes, to finally have words. Man of Justice’s winning smile finally gave way and a sharp grimace appeared. Puma raised a grin that spread to his cheeks. “¿Se ha agravado el gran simio?” the vigilante said in spanish. “You know I have no idea what you just said,'' Man of Justice’s feet lifted off the ground and he hovered over towards the cloaked Puma. “But I bet it was some racist shit. How about we speak ingles bitch?”

Puma slightly chuckled. “We will meet again at long last. How long has it been hmm? Seven months? Eight?”

“Eight months, twenty-three days,” the superman corrected. His eyes started to glow green, hot with atomic energy. He imagined incinerating the man. It’d be so easy. All he could do is…

Puma held something up in his hand. Man of Justice didn't need to look in order to figure out what it was. A hard drive. One of many, Puma had. On it was something that Man Of Justice couldn't bring to light. It could never be seen. “No-no-no. This is your reminder by the way.” Puma remarked. He could see it. Teaching in micro expressions let him know that the twitching of the Man of Justice’s eyes indicated the man wanted to rip his innards out. But the negro had no chance. The Man of Justice landed bluntly on the ground. Puma nodded. “Why call me here...brotha’?” he asked. The Man Of Justice started to pace back and forth. I’ve been thinking. About you and me…”

“Really? I didn't know there was a ‘you and me’...”

“And I realize something…”

“And what is that?”

The Man of Justice turned to him and his eyes glowed. “I don't really need you.”

Puma gripped the case under his cape. A grin reappeared across his face. “Explain...brotha’.”

“You see,” Man of Justice hovered back over to Puma. he circled the vigilante. “I’m the strongest being on this planet. I have money as vast as yours- and I can have anyone I want. Any. One. I. Want. I can stop armies of barbarians made out of lightning, can stop moving trains, even carry two hundred meteors across space and back before fuckin’ breakfast. I don't need no Council of Heroes. No Aventuriss- that crazy feminist bitch can go rot in those piles of crap she castrated off her foes- I don't need to Whirring Willy who can’t even last six seconds in bed- and I especially don't need no- Hermano- who dresses up like a cat, throws ‘puma-rangs’ and secretly owns one of the deadliest cartels in the world.”

Puma eyed him. Man Of Justice smiled. “Oh yeah. While you’re so arrogant as to think little ol’ me wouldn't possibly have any dirt on you- tada!” The hero pulled out a hard drive of his own. “Now I know what that detective mind of yours is thinking: yes I have many more. Many more women will confess to courts that the great crimefighter is actually a great criminal. You’ve been running the cartel down in Mexico for seven years. How many muscled farmers and decapitated heads is that?

“Now you’ve killed some Russians and own the human trafficking of their nation too? “ Man of Justice sucked his teeth. “Shame on you...Nicolas.”

Puma stiffened. His name was gone-completely. Nobody alive could recall the cold and distant boy in boarding school who became an orphan from an “accident” that took his parents’ lives.  Nobody could remember-even if they were alive- The Puma’s real name. Puma let out a steaming breath through his nostrils on the cool August night. He stared into the hovering hero’s eyes. “Bravo. Bravo.”

“Anytime. anywhere! “ The caped hero put a finger in Puma’s face. “I can expose your ass, just as you can expose me. Remember that. Brotha’!”

The two stared holes into each other. It was a moment of silence before Puma took a step towards Man Of Justice. He pulled out the case. Held it at arm's length to the strongest hero. “You know what this is. You can see it. Look at it. Use that vision of yours.”

The hero did. He looked back up with wide eyes. “You…” he snarled. He went towards The Puma but Puma simply put out a hand. He waved his finger. “I don't need you either. Anytime anywhere I can send a bullet in your brain with this. In case you get tired of civilization and want to bury it. Then again, you wouldn't have any more concubines around.” Puma got close, close enough to whisper in the hero’s ear. “Especially the young ones. Chica, “

Puma hid a smile as he turned his back on the hero, walking to the edge of the balcony so he could look out at the starry night. “Just remember. You purchased some of my slaves. I wonder? What happened to those teen ones? Where did you bury them, Derek? In the arctic? Ah, I’m overthinking, maybe you just incinerated them, after squeezing their brains out.”

He was a blur, moving faster than the most expensive cameras in the world could see. He had a hand on Puma’s throat, lifting him off the ground before the hero could smile. “You wouldn't dare!”

“Oh Derek,” Puma smiled through blood-stained teeth. He could feel his heart thumping faster and faster, the only emotion he felt in a long time thrumming in his veins. “I would. You throw me out. I throw you out. I run a cartel. Heck, I even run the mafia, love to sell guns to those negros down in Chicago. But I can control my libido. Especially for the younger types.”

Puma hovered the case in front of Derek's vision. “You don't think I got a sniper on you right now? That I don't have a pacemaker ready to upload a video. A video Derek- to the entire planet?”

Derek stared silently at the vigilante. He smiled. He went into a light chuckle. It grew into a full laugh, loud enough to send shivers down Puma’s spine. The only two emotions he could feel: anger and fear roiled up inside of him.  Derek set Puma down. He dusted off the hero’s cape and nudged him away. “You just wait until three months. I have been waiting. Waiting for the opportunity to embarrass you once again in the tournament.”

“Ah that,” Puma said. “Unless we have a real challenge, I’m afraid ratings will get lower this year my friend. We’ll have to spice things up a bit. The holograms and magic cloaking spells do the trick, enough to hide the real blood and gore from the audience- but we need a true villain, one who will finally make you bleed.  I hope to see you die one of these days.”

“You first.” Man Of Justice hovered over Puma. “I have a feeling our reckoning will come sooner than we think. But for now, let's keep ourselves under control. We can hold ourselves back from killing and screwing lowlives until November can we?”

The Man of Justice looked down at him. “That means no screwing the Disney star, Derek. No Natalie Emery. At least until she’s twenty-one at least. Or you know- when she’s actually eighteen.”

The Man of Justice smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

“Likewise...hero.”

“...I’m going to laugh when I see you die.” and the hero shot off, a small shockwave booming in the night. Puma shrugged his cape. He cracked his neck, grimacing up at the fading trail of light in the sky. 

---------

Although the “hero” had his entire feed firewalled like titanium, the technopath gained access to The Puma's surveillance. She heard it all. She turned to her cohorts. “Those bloody wankers are going to get it aren't they?”

A figure in the shadows nodded. “Indeed. All we have to do is wait. Patience is very necessary…”