Amateur Villains

It should’ve been another normal visit to the bank. Everything until now had been going great. You’d started the day off early, with a nice breakfast cooked by the love of your life.

The two of you had met years ago in the usual way people met back then. You had taken her hostage and suspended her over a tank of sharks, and she had screamed for help from the local superhero. In the ensuing moment of awkwardness where the hero hadn’t come to save her immediately, the two of you found yourselves chatting up a storm.

Now, you couldn’t imagine a day passing without her, or the little ball of energy you two had raised. Every day seemed that much brighter whenever they were around.

After breakfast, you and your daughter had headed out for a day of fun around the town. Just the simple father-daughter stuff. Ice cream, a picnic in the park, a trip to the zoo … normal things that a retired father would do with his daughter.

The trip to the bank was so you could withdraw some more money. Although you technically hadn’t had a proper job since you were sixteen, what with the discovery of your abilities and your subsequent fall into villainy, stealing jewels and gold over the years had left you with a nice little nest egg that no one had managed to explain yet. Or, if they had figured it out, they ignored it for the sake of knowing who you were.

Of course, as stated earlier, the day’s goodness was coming to an end. You were in line, fourth from the counter, when three younger men walked into the bank. They had ski masks over their faces and wielded your standard three-shot laser blasters, though one of them had what looked like an oversized, souped-up proton pack from the Ghostbusters.

You’d built your fair share of them in your youth and could recognize their true purpose from a distance—this one was meant to melt open the vault door, with a cobbled-together AC unit acting as the coolant system— but you would never dare to use them anymore.

“Get on the ground!” one of them shouted, clearly the bravest of them all.

Everyone in the bank screamed as he unloaded a shot into the air.

Foolish, you thought, as flecks of dust rained down around him. The laser blast wasn’t like a regular bullet. The collateral damage would be ridiculous, even for such a small shot. Not to mention that he’d wasted one of his only charges.

Around you, the crowd all lay themselves flat. Even your daughter, as precious and innocent as she was. When you refused, she whispered to you.

“Daddy, what are you doing?”

“Yeah, ‘Daddy,’” the second robber said. “What are you doing?”

You rolled your eyes. As much fun as it would’ve been to fling these three into the stratosphere, you’d forgotten that there was still the “secret” part of your identity to protect.

Although you grumbled the entire time, you lay yourself flat on your stomach. “Better?”

“Yeah, much better,” the first one said.

“Whatever. Just hurry it up.”

You felt the second robber jab his gun into your back. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Dinner with the wife.”

Clearly, the nonchalant response wasn’t liked, and you could feel the gun press even harder against your skin.

“Shut it! Or maybe you want me to eat your dinner.” Then, to his boss, he added, “Like that, boss?”

“You’re an idiot. Either kill him or stop talking to him.”

“On it, boss.”

The telltale thrum of the laser pistol charging filled the air. You heard your daughter scream and try to tackle the robber. Before she could make contact, you reached out with even the barest hint of your power, grabbed the robber, and did what you’d wanted to do from the start.

One second, there had been a robber standing over you, threatening your life. The next, he was gone, launched through a new hole all the way into the stratosphere, and fast enough that no one had been able to see the process.

With a heavy sigh, you stood. “Look. I’m just here to pull some money out and go to dinner with my family.” You faced the boss of the group. “Can I do that?”

“The hell are you—”

Your glare spoke far louder than anything you could’ve thought to say, shutting him up. “Can I go to dinner?”

“Screw—”

Another man in the stratosphere, another unexplained charred corpse raining down into someone’s backyard in a few days. It hadn’t happened in a few years, but then again, there were other villains out there that would stoop to the depths you’d once gone to.

You approached the final one with the melting ray, who stood there shaking in his boots, looking pale as a sheet. He didn’t look at you until you were right in his face, his gaze too focused on the hole made in the ceiling by his boss.

“Boo.”

He screamed, shrugged off the pack, and bolted from the bank without another word. Once he was gone, you went and picked up your daughter.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetie.” You headed for the teller, who was still cowering behind her desk on the other side of the glass. “I’d like to make a withdrawal, please. Legally, of course.”