3.17

“Virgil, your father wants to see you.” Virgil, the kid with the mohawk, who Silas had run into trouble with at detention, had been waiting in the living room of his father’s home.

It hadn’t felt like his own home since his mother had died. It felt strange, almost alien, to him.

“What kind of mood is he in Pierre?” Virgil asked. Pierre was Virgil’s father’s butler. He was a kind man and had more involvement in raising Virgil than his father.

“Not a good mood at all I’m afraid. The Flower Shop gang has stolen some of the computer parts he was after. Even killing a few of his men. He’s also having more trouble with Puppet Master than he thought he would, with his drones and all.”

“Oh, great.” Virgil made for his father’s office.

“Virgil, be careful.” Pierre gave Virgil a solemn look. Virgil straightened his back and shoulders, something his father always yelled at him about, and entered his father’s office.

“Boy.” Virgil’s father wore an expensive suit and sat behind a great oaken desk. His fingers were steepled and pressing against his chin. He had an oversized cigar in his mouth. Virgil had always hated the smell of them.

The room itself felt like it was misplaced in time. There was an animal skin rug on the floor, it reminded Virgil of his old neighbour, a rabbit that was always friendly and overly chatty. Virgil felt a shiver run down his spine.

In front of the desk were two green leather chairs. They had a redwood frame and looked extremely heavy. Various paintings were hanging around the room, all looked expensive and with no real clarity as to what the subject was.

A timber ceiling fan, designed with only one arm, turned slowly, and gave the occasional squeak.

The only source of light for the room was from the great window behind Virgil’s father. The slats were shut, letting in only a few streams of light. Virgil noticed the dust that was danced in the light.

“Father.” Virgil refused to come into the room, he stayed at the door.

“I hear you’ve had more detentions and even acted violently towards teachers.”

“Oh, and you’re not violent towards people? You kill people for a living.” The two stared each other down.

“That doesn’t mean you need to cause a ruckus. Education is important if you want to get somewhere in this world.” His father remained in the same pose.

“I’ll just join your crime syndicate. I don’t need an education.”

“You need brains to run what I run. You can’t do that if you don’t know how to think.”

“Then you teach me, take me under your wing.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Virgil took a few steps into the room. He was fired up now.

“Because its what your mother wanted, and it means you don’t do as your told.” His father remained in the same pose.

“I won’t have to do as I’m told if I’m at the top.”

“You wouldn’t be at the top for an awfully long time, boy. I’m going to have to send you away.”

“No. I ain’t going nowhere.” Virgil took a few more steps forward. He was standing at his father’s desk, staring him down. “I have friends and a life here.”

“That means nothing to me.” He raised an eyebrow, but his eyes were cold, empty.

“That’s no surprise.” Virgil’s arm morphed into a giant crab arm. He grabbed the desk in the pincer and sliced it in half. Virgil was breathing heavy now. His father had never known about his power.

“Your mother wouldn’t be pleased if she saw you right now.” His father had lowered his hands and rested them on his stomach.

“What would you know? You never gave a shit about her. She’d be disappointed in you if she saw you.” Virgil stepped up to his father and brought the pincer to his father’s throat. His father remained dead still.

“I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” His father brought the cigar out blew the smoke in his face.

“From where I’m standing, I’ve got the advantage.” Virgil brought the pincer in closer, touching his father’s throat.

“Looks can be deceiving.” From out of nowhere, something large and powerful pummelled into Virgil’s side. It carried Virgil into the wall before releasing the pressure.

Virgil could see a large, monstrous looking forearm. Veins pulsed and skin wrapped around a disproportionate arm. His father stood up and was missing an arm. Virgil noticed it was his father’s right arm that was missing, and it was a right arm that had punched him.

“I warned you boy.” His father’s face warped to one of warped glee, but his eyes still had a dead twinkle to them.

Those eyes had always haunted Virgil. Those eyes burned through him when his father snapped the neck of his pet rat because it had squeaked for an hour when he was a child.

“What, what was that?” Virgil was stunned. He had never known about his father’s powers. The giant arm disappeared, and his father’s arm reappeared.

“That’s just a taste of my power, boy. Don’t think just because I’m your father that I’m going to treat you any differently then anyone else. If anything, I’d treat you harsher. Builds character.”

“This isn’t over.” Virgil took a few steps toward his father, anticipating another attack.

“I think you’ll find that it is.” Virgil noticed his father’s arm disappearing this time and braced for impact. He didn’t expect it to come from behind.

Virgil felt a bone snap as the force smashed into his back. It drove him across the room and out the window.

Virgil felt the blinding pain when he slammed into the concrete below. He saw his father looking out of the window down on him. Then he blacked out.

Virgil awoke in a bed in a dark room. He couldn’t move as he was strapped down to the bed. A single, blinding halogen was on his face.

“I’m sorry Virgil. I wasn’t sure how your body was going to react with that power of yours.” It was Pierre. Virgil immediately relaxed.

“Where am I?”

“In one of your father’s abandoned warehouses. I brought you here to nurse you back to health.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“I imagine you’ll try.”