Revived

“Is it true what they say? That humans need company or else they lose their minds?”

“I wouldn’t know. Haven’t been alone long enough to find out.” 

How quick he is. No matter what I say, he always seems to have a retort. Under normal circumstances, that would piss me off. But here, now, with him trapped in the one-room he can’t escape? It’s tolerable. Maybe if I had invested in some duct tape I’d be doing just a little bit better, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“Let’s try, hm? With the amount of hatred you hold for me, I assume you’d rather be alone?” I pause, waiting to hear another snarky response. Nothing. “I used to imagine this is what death would feel like. Nothing. Just the dark and the cold, forever. Trapped with no one but your own subconscious. Taken down from the inside out. But, it’s not.” 

I stare at the man, the once-mighty hero, now covered in blood and bruises, chained to a chair, shrouded by darkness. How the mighty have fallen. He avoids my eyes, struggling against his restraints. 

“You know how I know? Because you killed me. Do you remember that?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, don’t tell me I’m that easy to forget, Mr. Makeshift?” I can’t help but let the venom soak into my words. Hundreds of battles, one lousy win, and suddenly he can’t remember who I am? “Maybe this will remind you: you tried to save this city from me two hundred and seventy-three times. You killed me during our two hundredth and seventy-second battle. You held my bleeding, bullet-ridden body in your arms and smiled in front of a crowd of adoring fans. You tossed me in the gutter as soon as the cameras shut off. You didn’t make sure to finish the job.” 

I smile as I see the look of realization hit him. He knew who I was. For the first time since he had woken up here, he looks up. He looks for me. I step into the light, a cheery look on my face. He struggles against his chains once more and I can practically feel the anger radiating from his body. 

“I killed you. You’re not here.”

“Half of that sentence is true. You did kill me, for a little bit, at least. But I have some devoted fans just like you. Some are so devoted that they would, hypothetically, drag my dead body from the side of the street, and revive me. Heal me with the power that I had given them years before, back when this moment,” I wave my arm in front of him. “Was just a dream. Would they do that for you? Or do you think they would let you rot like roadkill?”

A knock from outside the cell startles Makeshift, the hope he had for rescue being crushed the second I open the door and reveal my apprentice. 

“Ah, Jeremiah, come in. Do you know who this is?” I wrap my arm around the young man’s shoulders, pulling him in close, staring at Makeshift. I could feel his heartbreak. “This is your dad, remember him? The one who left you, all alone, in that dreadful orphanage?”

“Yeah, I remember him.”

“And do you happen to remember who it was that adopted you? That gave you a life worth living?”

“Yes. It was you.” 

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it.” I squeeze Jeremiah’s shoulder gently, knowing how hard this moment was for him. But we had been preparing for the act of revenge for years. Every day after school, I would let him into the lab with me, answer the questions he asked as honestly as I could, teach him what I could. I did everything a dad should do. 

Jeremiah looks at me, his face contorted with a mix of pain and anger, a feeling I had known all too well. I wipe the tear that had slipped down his cheek, holding his face and nodding, before giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. I watch proudly as he took the few steps forward, towards the man who he had never gotten the chance to call father, and I smile. 

“Take your time, son. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” I call over my shoulder, walking into the dimly lit hallway. I nod at the guard outside the door as I make the long and twisted walk back to the elevator.

“Hi, sir. News is up on the top floor just like you asked.” Richard, my elevator operator of sixteen years, said with a smile as I step inside. His gloved hand taps the button marked with a 13, folding his arms in front of him again. 

“Thank you, Richard. And remember, you don’t have to be so formal in front of me. I want you to be relaxed. This is your day job.” He nods, letting his arms fall to his side. “Hows Debbie? And the dog?”

“Debbie’s good, she got a promotion at the hospital! Patches is alright too, spoiled as ever.” The elevator stops, the steel doors sliding over, and I palm Richard a ten-dollar bill. 

“Well, hey! That’s something to celebrate! Talk with Cara at the front desk when you leave, you deserve a day off to be with her.” 

I wave off Richards thanks as I head out into the window-lined hallway, taking a right down to the conference room. I could hear the anxious murmurs from the other side of the wall, and my heart swells. 

The doors swing open automatically and I walk in, flashing a smile at a few of the news cameras that lined the aisle. The room was a little more packed than I had anticipated, every chair filled and a few people lingering in the corner of the room. Well, the more the merrier. 

I get to the oak podium that stood at the front of the room and waited patiently for the conversation to die down. After a few ‘Mr. Chairman!’ and ‘Are you giving a statement in regards to the vote from last week?’ Silence falls. 

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting today. Some of you are expecting bad news, some of you are hoping for bad news. The news I have is good. Better than good, actually, and I really wanted an audience here to discuss it to make sure it got to everyone. Are you all rolling?” I wait for confirmation from every cameraman in the room and smile. 

The doors swing shut. The windows which were once letting in the bright sunshine were shuttered, sending the room into darkness. Screams came from around the room, and I could hear the panicked clambering of the people desperately trying to find their way out. 

“What a pity,” The backup generator kicks in. As everyone’s eyes begin to adjust to the light, they see me. “I thought you all would kill for a story?”

It was silent. I can’t blame them; they were seeing a ghost. They were seeing the no-good villain Makeshift had killed. The villain who had long wreaked havoc on the streets of the city, who hadn’t been seen or heard from in months. But, there he was. There I was. Those closest to the door attempt to leave once again, only to be met with gunfire. A few bodies would just make the story even better. 

 I step off the stage, walking to the nearest camera, and flash my award-winning smile.

“I’m back. I killed Makeshift. And I’m here to make my demands.”