Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 35

Best. Plan. Ever.

“Very well,” said Thunderfunk the Superchicken. He settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him in a manner that he desperately hoped conveyed evil. “My plan is to first kidnap half of the city’s bus drivers. While they are helpless, the hapless citizens of this town will be forced to miss bus after bus, thus creating confusion and economic troubles as businesses will have trouble remaining open when their staff cannot come to work. I will then provide staff to take up the slack at the bus company, but unbeknownst to the transportation company, the drivers I provide will be evil, concentrating on rudeness and tardiness, as well as getting lost and, perhaps, some minor kidnapping.

“Speaking of kidnapping, I will kidnap the mayor and demand an exorbitant ransom. I realise that the ransom will not be payed, but that is fine as the real goal is to show how weak the city government is. Afterwards I will release the mayor in a public place, but completely naked to further humiliate him.

“And finally, in the confusion, I will rob a bank.” He smiled confidently, already planning on where he would spend the money.

Straw stood up and left the room. He went back to the sitting room and grabbed the open bottle of Manzanilla. He took it back to the lair and stared at Thunder, who was looking quite pleased with himself. Opening the bottle, Straw downed the entire thing in one long pull. As he felt the warmth of the alcohol beginning to spread across his body, Straw smiled. “Unbelievable,” he said before passing out.

Thunder looked at his protege. What in the world could that mean? he wondered.

Fools of us All - Chapter 35

I hesitated for a long time in that room. I think there was a part of me that did not want to discover the truth. It would have been much easier to head back into the tunnels and forget. Forget Spin, forget prophecies, and just forget everything. I could stay in the tunnels, discover the story behind them. I could just…forget.

I found myself standing in front of the hidden door, my hand stretched out, hovering inches from the hidden latch. I stood there for a long time, unable to see anything but the pattern on the wall, unable to hear anything beyond the sound of my own breath. I still don’t know what I was planning on doing.

Before I had a chance to make a decision, my leg twitched. The pain that was always present where my artificial leg joined with my natural leg suddenly spiked, a jolt of pain that drove me to one knee. As I knelt there gasping, something Spin said echoed in my head. “Does it hurt every time?” he had asked when I cut open my leg to show him the circuits beneath the surface. I had nodded, but it occurred to me now that I had never shown anyone before him. I don’t think anyone in the organisation was aware of my injury. I had known them for a long time, but for some reason, Spin was the only one I had trusted with my secret.

When the pain had returned to its normal dull throbbing that I pushed to the background, I rose to my feet and sighed. As much as I wanted to run and hide, I wanted to know the truth even more. I also knew I could not abandon Spin. He was connected to all of this somehow.

I turned suddenly, afraid that that if I waited any longer I would change my mind again. I crept to the door, feeling foolish when I remembered I was alone in the room, distracting myself enough that I forgot about the sensor, causing the door to swish open, leaving me face to face with the shortest cleric I have ever seen. He was an inch shorter than me, and his short red beard was peppered with flecks of grey. The hood of his robe was down, letting me see the surprise in his blue eyes as I punched him in the face and dragged his limp body into the room.

Moments later I was dressed in a stolen robe, glad that the unconscious cleric had decided to wear pants today. I looked at him laying on the ground, transfixed by the heavy cross that hung from his neck. Finally I reached down and removed it from his neck, examining it closer. There appeared to be a seam along the side. I tugged at the two halves, eventually popping it open to reveal some intricate circuitry housed within. Snapping it shut, I hung the cross around my own neck, tucking it beneath the robe.

I headed back to the door and headed into the hallway, making sure the hood was up to obscure my markedly more feminine face. I wandered the halls for a while, completely lost, unsure of what to do. I nodded at a few other clerics but avoided any conversation. I felt lost and uncertain.

“The young man’s clothing was strange somehow,” came a hushed voice from around the corner. I came to a sudden stop, turning to look at the wall, relieved that there was actually something to gaze at, a picture of some sort. I waited, holding my breath, listening to the conversation.

“He had stolen Boul’s robe and tried to sneak inside, but was caught by the guards.”

“I suppose,” came a second voice, “the guards did their usual ‘gentle’ job of enforcement.” The sarcasm was hard to miss.

My heart leapt to my throat - Spin! What did you do with him? It took everything I had not to scream the question aloud. But it was as though they heard me. “They’re holding him down in the cells until they decide what to do with him.” I don’t know what else they said as I was hurrying to the stairs I had noticed before. It didn’t take me long to reach the detention level.

I took a deep breath and exited the stairwell, finding myself in a dimly lit hall, lined with heavy looking doors. A guard stood near the door, looking surprised at its sudden opening. His gun was half out of its holster when he noticed it was what he thought was one of the clerics who was allowed to be here. “Come to see the oddity, have you?” he asked.

Resisting the urge to lash out and bloody his smirking face, I merely nodded. He motioned to the end of the hall and I calmly made my way past him to the indicated door. I looked in and had to stop myself from staggering back in horror.

The only light in the room came from the small barred window in the door. The shaft of dim light revealed a pathetic looking figure huddled on the floor. The young man shifted slightly and I gasped quietly. Spin’s face looked out at me through a maze of bruises, ugly welts underneath dried blood. One eye was swollen completely shut. I suppose the sight of a faceless hood peering into his cell was enough to frighten him because he whimpered and crawled back.

“Spin,” I whispered, glancing sidelong at the guard who was only half-watching, seemingly bored with his duty. “Spin, come here.”

A quizzical expression crossed Spin’s pain filled face. I motioned for him to come and he finally gathered the strength of will to give in to his curiosity. Staggering to his feet, he made his way across the room to the door. I took a deep breath and swallowed the bile that rose in my throat at the sight of his severely broken arm, the bone sticking out through the skin. He stumbled and landed heavily against the door, his face pressed against the bars.

“Spin, it’s me,” I whispered, pulling my hood back just far enough for him to recognise my face.

“Caz?” he mumbled.

“Shh. Look, I can’t take you out of here right now, but I won’t forget about you. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Just hold on.” I reached my hand into the room and held his face. “Do you understand me?”

His eyes slowly cleared up and understanding filled them. He nodded once. “Hurry,” he breathed, slowly sinking out of sight.

In shock, I stepped back and took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I turned and headed back to the door. As I passed the guard he shook his head. “Always trying to give hope, eh brother?”

The scorn in his voice almost made me snap, but instead I walked by, banging through the door, pausing in the empty stairwell to shed a few tears for my friend.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 34

Things Unfurled

Finally able to usher his guest out the door, Thunderfunk watched Mrs. Henderson walk down the lane until she disappeared out of sight. He then rushed to his bank of monitors so he could be sure that she actually left the premises without waiting around to ambush him again. Satisfied that she was well on her way to her own dwelling, he sank into a tall leather chair, sighing with relief. “Straw!” he shouted.

“What!” shouted his protege from six inches behind his chair, nearly causing Thunder to chunder all over the expensive Persian rug that hung on the opposite wall.

Turning to the young man who was whistling innocently, Thunder wiped his mouth. “First, you will bring me a sherry. Second, clean up this mess!” He stormed away to his lair to brood. Or possibly to plan. Or perhaps he would do both - he was in that type of mood today. He just wished the lair had a door he could slam.

Straw laughed to himself as he walked to the liquor cabinet to get the bottle of Manzanilla that had been purchased the day before. Pouring two glasses, he sipped from one as he carried the other down to where Thunder sat in his brooding chair, his long, feathered finger tapping regularly on the arm of the chair. Handing the full glass to Thunder, Straw turned to leave, expecting to repeat this process a few times throughout the rest of the evening. Instead, he stopped when Thunder began to speak.

“I have our next plan in place.” His voice was low and full of menace.

Turning back, Straw raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked.

“Of course. What did you think, that I would not have a plan in place?”

Straw shrugged. “It’s just that you’re not in your planning chair.”

“Pfft. Planning chair. Need I remind you that I am Thunderfunk, the Superchicken? I need no chair to plan!” He rose to his feet as he spoke, waving his arms and pacing magnanimously. I’m not sure how one does that, but apparently it is possible. “I am the one who has defeated superheroes around the world, rendering them powerless and helpless yet keeping them alive to complete their humiliation! I have fought battles against foes that thought they were my superiors only to find themselves vastly overmatched by my intellect and cunning! I have struck terror into the hearts of governments and business leaders throughout the world! Even those men who dare to call themselves evil quake in the shadow of my presence!! And you dare to presume that I need a special seating arrangement in order to formulate my dastardly plans. Rather be grateful that I do not choose to destroy you on a whim!” Finished his rant, he seated himself heavily once again.

Smiling inwardly, Straw noted that the giant fowl had sat down in a different chair - the chair in which he sat to make plans. Sometimes minor obsessive compulsiveness could be fun to watch. “My mistake,” he said mildly in a tone he had perfected for mollifying his boss. Once again, it worked.

“Don’t let it happen again,” threatened Thunder, the closest he ever came to apologising. “Now, let me explain my plan.”

Straw listened intently to the detailed steps that were laid out by his employer, where listening intently is understood to mean “listened enough to know where to nod and say things such as ‘uh-uh’, or ‘yeah’, or to chuckle politely if need be”. Meanwhile, he was busy texting the guard at the front of the building, telling him to get the mess in the sitting room cleaned up before it hardened into modern art. Disgusting, disgusting modern art. Also, Mrs. Henderson was not allowed on the grounds for the rest of the night.

Suddenly, the meat of what Thunder was explaining managed to worm its way into Straw’s consciousness, nearly causing him to drop his phone. “Wait, what?” he exclaimed, interrupting Thunder mid-rant. To shocked to speak, the giant chicken instead stared at the young man. “Can you explain the plan again,” requested Straw, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “I think I need to hear this.”

Fools of us All - Chapter 34

Where I was laying was cold and hard. A musky scent filled my nostrils, an aroma of mould and dampness, cobwebs and mud, fear and death. My cheek against the surface it was contacting, and I could taste blood.
Alone, scared and in pain, I wept. And then I let the darkness claim me once again.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 33

Then Again...

Five hours later, Thunder glanced at his watch and sighed. This woman sure could talk.

Fools of us All - Chapter 33

I crouched by the door, the answer to one of my many questions about these underground tunnels finally answered. There was a small panel near the bottom of the door that could be moved aside and used to view the room beyond the door discretely. Given the extremely secret nature of the tunnels, I knew there had to be a way to avoid opening the door to a room full of people, so when I finally reached the door that I seemed to fit with the distance and the direction of the archives I spent a good long time examining the inside of the door in the dim light until I found what I was looking for.

Now I was looking into a room that was sparsely decorated. A thick carpet with an intricate pattern covered the floor from wall to wall. A small table was in the middle of the room flanked by two uncomfortable looking chairs on either side. The chairs were of archaic wooden design with high backs, arms, and a firm white cushioning on the seat. Two of the walls had objects hung on them, but I was at the wrong angle to see what exactly was there. The wall across from me was blank save for the door, a typical bronze metal slab that would slide into the wall when it sensed someone nearing the door. After waiting for a long time to make sure the room was not occupied, or a busy area of the archives, it suddenly occurred to me that I had never been in the archives and I had no way of knowing for sure that this was the building I was looking for. I sat back on my haunches, suddenly uncertain of myself.

Deciding that there was only one way to find out for sure, I pushed the latch to open the door, holding my breath and hoping that whatever had locked the previous door had not caused this door to freeze as well.

With a soft click, the door popped open a fraction of an inch. Cautiously I pushed on it, swinging it far enough on its hinges to allow me passage into the room. I closed the door behind me, mentally noting its location in case I needed to exit the way I came. Once again I was amazed at how seamless the doors were once they closed.

Turning, I spent a moment exploring the room more closely, though it was so small that it only took a few moments. On the wall there were pages from an ancient book sealed in glass cases, presumably to keep them from disintegrating or being destroyed some way. In the corner there was a stand with a book open to the middle. Something about it held my attention for what was probably longer than was safe, though I could not say why as I could not read the tiny script the was scrawled there. Finally tearing myself away from the book, I approached the door, stopping short of the sensor, keeping it closed. I glanced over my shoulder at the book one more time, suddenly convinced that I was in the right building.

I just wish I knew what I was supposed to do now.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 32

Surely, Indeed.

The doorbell rang, echoing through the empty halls of the massive house. Thunderfunk glanced around for a moment and then hunched over his desk again, concentrating at the task at hand. Straw would answer it he was sure.

But the doorbell sounded once more, this time sounding more insistent. Thunder looked up again, wondering where his partner was. When the bell rang a third time, he sighed heavily, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders and rose to his feet to make the long walk to the front door. By the time he reached the door, the doorbell had rang twice more. Opening the door, he stared down at his caller and greeted them with an icy “What?”

That was the intention, anyway, but before he had a chance to say anything he found a casserole dish shoved into his hands, accompanied with a warning of “be careful dear, it’s hot.” As he was quickly finding somewhere to put the scalding dish down, Mrs Henderson was entering his house, chattering away, heading towards his sitting room. Straw showed up just then and Thunder shoved the food into his helpers hands before trailing his elderly neighbour down the hall. “I know you are a busy man,” she was saying, “so I cooked you a meal to ensure you are eating properly at least some of the time.”

“Mrs. Henderson,” said Thunder, exasperated by the woman, “I can assure you that my nutritional needs are well met by my current eating habits, and that I do not need your assistance...” his voice trailed off. Though he had been only steps behind her, somehow she had lt a fire and settled in to do some knitting before he entered the room.

“What was that dearie?” she asked. “You’ll have to speak up. My hearing isn’t what it once was you know.” She smiled warmly and continued her knitting, making what appeared to be a scarf.

Rubbing the bridge of his beak, Thunder took a moment to collect his thoughts. “Mrs. Henderson...” he began, only to be cut off by her shocked gasp.

“Why Thunder,” she exclaimed, “whatever happened to your head. You’ve been hurt!”

Confused, Thunder reached up and felt his head, only remembering when he felt the bandages of the latest attack on his person. “That,” he said tersely, “was your cat.”

“Mr Pentiction? Oh I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “He is a very calm cat. He doesn’t go around attacking people. Do you Mr Pentiction?” Her cat crawled out of her massive bag and jumped up onto her lap, stretching and purring as she petted him, scratching behind his ears. He gave Thunder a look of pure malice for a moment before settling down for a nap on his owners lap. His tail continued to twitch, mocking Thunder’s discomfort.

“That cat is a psycho,” muttered Thunder.

“Food’s on,” announced Straw as he entered the room carrying three plates heaped with the steaming casserole that Mrs. Henderson had provided.

“Oh no thanks,” she said with a smile. “I ate earlier and am not hungry. But you go ahead.” She continued her knitting.

“Okay,” replied the young man. “Thunder?” He offered a plate to his boss who merely grimaced and pushed it away. Shrugging, Straw settled down and began eating enthusiastically.

“And how are you doing, young man?” asked Mrs. Henderson, smiling affectionately at Straw.

“I’m doing fine,” he replied. “And I have to say, this is fantastic. I love it!” He shoved another spoonful into his mouth.

“Thank you dear. I’m glad you like it.” She put down her knitting and pet Mr Pentiction some more. “You know, my niece knows how to make this meal as well. In fact she is quite a master chef in her own right. You should meet her some day.”

“Mrs. Henderson,” interjected Thunderfunk. “I’m afraid we must cut this short as Straw and I are very busy.”

“Oh stuff it, Thunder.” Straw glared briefly at his boss. “I want to hear this.” He turned back to face their neighbour. “So, she can cook, can she?”

Looking back and forth at the two others sitting in his house, Thunder slowly sank into an easy chair, wondering where he had gone wrong in his life to deserve this. “Oh right, the evil,” he muttered under his breath. Placing a look of indifference on his face, he settled back to await the eventual end of this inane conversation. Surely it could not last long.

Fools of us All - Chapter 32

I stared at the door, or rather, at the space where the door had been. Closed, it was invisible with no seams to betray its presence, which helped explain how these doors had remained a secret for so long. For a long time I waited for Caz to reopen to door and let me into the tunnel, but aside from the occasional dull thud from the other side, nothing happened. It finally dawned on me that I was, at least for the moment, utterly alone.

Turning slowly, I faced the religious archives again. Moments ago they had looked impressive, but now, oppressive was a better word. The building seemed to loom over me, growing bigger and angrier before my eyes. I blinked hard, and when I looked again, the building had returned to its normal, grandiose proportions.

Sitting with my back against the door, I pondered my situation. The plan had been to break into the religious archives to find the original prophecy and maybe to figure out what was going on at all instead of spending our time being jerked around by whoever had the strongest chain. Assuming that there was no real way to get the door back open, my best guess was that Caz would continue with the plan and come back for me later. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, hoping that she would be quick about it and get me soon. I was only sorry that I was not going to get inside.

But why shouldn’t I get to see inside? This whole prophecy mess involved me too, after all. I cracked open one eye and regarded the building for a long moment before rising to my feet. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard to get inside. Why would the religious archives be guarded heavily? It didn’t really make much sense. I stepped towards the mouth of the alley, stopping abruptly. My clothes would make me stand out like a sore thumb. Thus far I had only been out on the streets when there was no one around. But now it was the middle of the day, and I could hear plenty of traffic in the direction of the archives. I glanced around the alleyway, but I could tell that there was nothing there that could help me - just piles of garbage and dirt.

That’s when something that Caz had said came to mind. She had told me that she ignored the bad things around her. That was no fresh attitude - even in my day people would step over the homeless without noticing or offering to help. People only saw what they wanted to see, and no one wanted to see a problem.

Thinking about what Caz was wearing, I looked down at my outfit. Even though the past few days had been difficult, I was still too clean. No one would believe I was homeless. With some regret, I began to strategically ruin my clothes. I rolled around in some of the filth and muck that was in abundant supply in the alley. I rubbed my face with dirt, getting it in my hair. I tore my pants and shirt in a few places, making them look ragged and threadbare as best I could under the circumstances. I took off one sock and threw it away, walking around barefoot for a bit to dirty up my feet. I rubbed a bit of dirt onto my shoes, but they didn’t need too much work to look beat up. I had been meaning to buy new shoes for a while now but hadn’t quite gotten around to them. I tried to buy new shoes every three or four years if I could and I was about due.

Finally I looked at myself in a dull piece of metal that I found. In short order I had managed to take myself from somewhat grungy man from the past to filthy homeless man of the present (which was actually my future), and something I had rolled in definitely made me smell like I hadn’t bathed in a while. I tried breathing through my mouth to avoid gagging myself.

With newfound confidence, I shuffled forward, doing my best to not walk to swiftly or with too much purpose, instead trying to look as though I were just happy to survive. I even looked through the some of the garbages, amazed at what people threw out.

Soon I found myself in front of the archives. From across the street, I sat down and watched the comings and goings of various people. Everyone who tried to go in was forced to go through a series of security checks that included some sort of card and what I could only guess was fingerprint controls or some sort of biometric scan.

And then, much to my surprise, a pair of monks in long robes with hoods up that hid their faces walked straight through, completely bypassing the scans and receiving only a cursory glance from the security guards stationed at the gate. I wasn’t sure whether to smile or shake my head in disbelief. Instead, I got to work.

Moments later I was in a secluded alley, struggling into a brown robe and standing over a young man who was now sporting a nasty goose egg on his head and not much else. I just hoped the young monk would be okay, but not until after I got out. I hesitated over the cross he wore on a chain around his neck. It had been under the robe, and the other monks I had seen weren’t wearing it, so I figured it was just a personal bit of jewellery. I decided to leave it on him, hoping that if anyone came across his body they would recognise him as a holy man and not hurt him any further. Or maybe that was what I told myself to assuage my guilt.

I stepped out of the alley and flipped up the hood, slowly making my way towards the imposing building yet again. A few other monks were ahead of me and they entered without problem. As I neared the gates, I panicked somewhat, deathly worried that they would shoot me the second I was in range. Instead, I received the same courtesy nod and was allowed to proceed. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, I continued.

Walking up the steps to the main entrance, I tried to act like I had been there before, neither rushing to get inside nor looking around at everything like some sort of tourist. Upon entering the building, I blinked a few times to get used to the dim light before noticing that someone was standing in front of me, motioning me to follow him. Without a word, he turned and strode off.

Mentally shrugging, I followed him, hoping he wasn’t going to ask me many questions. He, in fact, only had one question, but I did not like it one little bit. We entered a darkened room and he looked at me scornfully. “Did you think we were stupid?” he sneered. Someone behind me pulled down my hood as the lights were snapped on to reveal ten very large men.

And they looked angry with me.

Thunderfunk the Superchicken - Chapter 31

You Can Totally See The Tail

His muscles were taut, ready to spring into action, but there was no hurry in his movements. He waited patiently, judging his timing perfectly, creeping forward in the tall grass, barely causing so much as a single blade of grass to bow at his movement. He knew where to place each step for maximum efficiency. His prey would not hear him coming. This time would be different.

He bared his teeth slightly as thoughts of previous encounters crossed his mind. Many times before, he had stalked this prey, and many times he had been defeated. But each defeat left him more hungrier...more hungry...hungri.... Each defeat made him more determined to succeed.

As he neared the house, a sound caused him to freeze. His prey had returned to nest, leaving it ripe for the plucking. Slowly, cautiously, he approached the breach in the perimeter that allowed him entrance into the house. It was fortunate that the crack had not been plugged, but that luck could not continue. He must succeed soon before his opportunity passed forever.

In the dim light he had to blink a few times to regain his vision, but even in the darkness he could see well enough. He licked his chops in anticipation. Carefully he proceeded, soon finding himself within sight of the objective. Behind the scantest of cover, he paused, waiting for the perfect moment, the moment when a distraction would take his prey’s attention away and...

...NOW!

With lightning quickness, he sprang, leaping through the air, pulling back his sharp weapons for the killing blow. He couldn’t help himself - an animalistic howl tore itself from his throat as he hurtled through the air, poised to strike a killing blow.


* * *


Thunderfunk sighed heavily and reached up, pulling his neighbours cat from the top of his head where it had attached itself. A few feathers and patches of skin stayed connected to the cat, causing him some discomfort. “How do you continue to gain entrance Mr Penticton?” he asked the cat as it hissed and clawed at him. Not expecting a response, he loaded the struggling creature into what Straw had come to call the Kitty Cannon and pressed the firing button. “And how do you keep surviving?” he mused to no one in particular, which was probably wise as there was no one around to hear him.