Super Crush (BxB)

Heroizon

I burst out laughing.

There is no way my dad was a super villain. He may have had his secrets, some I am just now uncovering, but I know in my heart of hearts he never had a malicious bone in his body.

With a hopeful sigh, I unpause the video.

Dad ushers in a fit, twenties-something guy. He's shirtless with just mid-thigh gray shorts on. His torso is ripped and his legs are solid muscle. The video has my full attention.

Commencing Heroizon test number one. Agent E.

Agent E. How are you feeling today?

"Great, sir. Ready to take this to the next step."

Good. Let's get started.

Dad leads Agent E to an exam table that lifts with one hand from its horizontal stance into an upright display board. Canvas straps with metal buckles jingle down on each side of the table. Agent E steps up against the board, and my father carefully fastens and tightens each band–chest, waist, wrists, thighs, and ankles.

    As you know, Agent E, I must read you your commitment waiver.

"Yes, sir."

Thank you for your acknowledgment. Agent E, you have some of the best results from our physical, emotional, and mental testing. You seem to match the algorithms that we here at Elite Protections have deemed best-case scenarios for today's experiment. What we are about to do is give you an elixir that will affect you on a physiological level. If it is successful, your body will react by manifesting unique and spectacular powers that are lying dormant in your genes.

    Please be aware, that there is a possibility that the side effects of this elixir could be fatal.

    Dad pauses. I can tell he is anxious.

Being of clear body and mind, do you accept the dangers that this elixir possesses and wish to commence with this possibly life-altering procedure.

    "I do," Agent E replies.

    And you are aware of and accept the possibility that this drug may have negative side effects including muscle deterioration, organ failure, and death.

"Yes, sir. I am aware and I accept the risks," Agent E replies.   

Very well.

Dad brings Agent E a glass vial the size of a bottle of eye drops. The liquid inside is a beach drink blue. If it were served at a tropical restaurant, it would probably have an umbrella and gummy shark in it. He tips it into the subject's open mouth. With one gulp, Agent E downs the liquid.

"Banana flavor. I did not see that coming," Agent E says.

Dad chuckles.

Agent E, the effects of Heroizon should not take more than five minutes to develop. Upon the establishment of the drug's side effects, you may feel a sense of euphoria. This is the result of your body producing an overabundance of hormones at once.

"Affirmative, sir. I can start to feel it. My body is tingling. Started in my toes and is moving up my legs–whoa, head rush!" he closes his eyes and a big smile grows on his face. "This feels incredible!"

I can hear the EKG speed up. It went from a slow tennis match cadence to the quickness of a ping pong game. Agent E starts laughing and when he opens his eyes I can't help my breath from catching. They are all white. No pupils. No irises. Precisely like Storm from the X-Men when she uses her powers to call on a typhoon to kick the ass of Magneto's henchmen.

"Sir, I can feel it. All throughout my body. This warm, pulsating power. It is growing, engulfing my insides."

The heart monitor is now a juggler, rotating twelve runaway balls.

I can see the concern on my father's face. He rushes around to the equipment table and bustles through some medical supplies.

Agent E, your heart rate is dangerously high. I am going to administer you a beta blocker to slow your BPM down.

"Don't do it. This feels too good."

Dad uncaps the syringe and aims it toward Agent E's arm.

I almost jump out of my seat, for Agent E has ripped through his restraints and pushed my Dad back to the table as though he was a leaf in the breeze. He is shaken but not hurt by the sudden defensive action.

"I said NO!" His eyes are now glowing.

A ripple of contraction floods every muscle in Agent E's body. With each flex, his arms, chest, and legs all get bigger.

It's working. It's working. Dad and I whisper in unison.

With an ear-piercing alarm, The EKG alerts Dad that Agent E is far too deep into the danger zone.

"Shut up," Agent E groans before putting his right fist through the machine's screen.

Agent E. Let's try some of those breathing exercises we practiced. We have to get your heart rate back down.

He ignores Dad. His attention is on his own blood-covered hand. What should be a few busted bones and some minor flow of blood is a faucet of red running from Agent E's knuckles.

"Doctor?" I can hear the worry in Agent E's voice.

When he looks at my father, the camera shows the gruesome turn of events. Blood is dripping from his nose, and ears. He spits up a mouthful of it. Then his eyes close and he slumps over.

No, no, no! Medic!

Dad seems to know what is happening. He immediately lowers the examination board back into a tabletop. Without hesitation, he grabs the AED and turns it on as a man in scrubs rushes in.

Cardiac arrest. Need a blood transfusion. Stat!

Scrubs attaches the paddles to Agent E's chest and Dad injects him with some greenish chemical. A second doctor rushes in with three bags of blood.

The robot voice announces, "Stand back. Administering cardiac pulse in 3, 2, 1." 

The trio moves back for a moment as Agent E's body jolts. The AED projects a flatline. They get right back to work. Like he is spray painting a statue, Dad sprays a canned mist all over his patient's arm. I have seen it before: quick heal spray.  But Dad and I both know it is too late.

"Stand back. Administering cardiac pulse in 3, 2, 1." 

Flatline.

Fuck!

I am not sure I have ever heard my dad top-tier cuss before. It seems so foreign. I know, a weird thought process in the middle of watching a dude die, but him dropping the F-bomb is almost as surprising as watching Agent E get super strength for a minute.

"His body isn't taking the blood," the Second Doctor informs. "Without a pumping heart..."

"Stand back. Administering cardiac pulse in 3, 2, 1."

No luck. Dad turns to the blood doctor. He sadly shakes his head.

"No human pulse is detected. Patient is deceased." The AED confirms it.

Dammit!

He slams his fists down on the side table. Gathering himself the best he can, Dad turns to the camera. It is clear he is on the verge of angry tears. My heart breaks for him.

Trial one of Heroizon is a fail.

In a blink, he reaches for the camera, and the screen goes black.