Totality

Archived Post

Part 1

It was well past sunset when Vinson entered the lobby of his apartment building. He had a plastic bag with Chinese take out in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Vinson nodded to the night doorman who barely glanced up as he walked to the elevator. He had just punched the up arrow button when he heard his name being called.

“Mr. Blake?” He walked back to the security desk where the man on duty, an older gentleman with thick glasses held out a small cardboard box to him. “Sorry sir, I forgot to give this to you. It was delivered this afternoon.”

“Thanks.” Vinson smiled, nodded, slipped the package into his pocket and was back at the elevator seconds later. It had been a long day at the office and all he wanted now was to sit and eat.

Fumbling for his keys on the way up, it was only a short walk down the carpeted hallway to his single bedroom apartment. Briefcase, shoes and tie were left as a trail behind him as he went to the couch, seated himself and pulled open the box of noodles and MSG loaded goodness and started to wolf it down with a cheap plastic fork.

Baxter, his fat orange tabby came over and gave him a mournful look that only a taste of the Chinese food could cure. Ignoring Baxter’s begging, Vinson admired an oil painting mounted on the wall of his living room. It depicted a fantastic castle of ice overlooking a snowy landscape, a gift from one of his college friends. Sometimes he missed his old buddies, but under the relentless mundane grind of every day life they had drifted away to pursue their own unorthodox goals. Now he only heard about their exciting lives via short bursts on the latest social networking site.

Vinson put the empty carton down on the coffee table, leaned back and sighed. Sure he had a decent job, a comfortable apartment, decent looks, good health and he was seeing someone new that seemed to appreciate him. Still, sometimes he regretted not following his youthful dreams. Selling insurance wasn’t exactly exciting, but in the end he valued the stability of a regular paycheck more then adventure.

Shifting on the couch something jabbed him in the side. Fishing around in his jacket pocket he pulled out the package. It was from some company called “Permafrost Ltd.” based in a town he had never heard of in Canada according to the label.

“I didn’t order anything from them.” Baxter slunk off, tail twitching. Vinson couldn’t even tell what the company produced based on the name. Maybe it was a gift from a client?

He used his keys to cut the tape and ripped it open, revealing crumbled brown paper inside. Digging around he unwrapped the paper which appeared to contain… nothing. “Great. Nice waste of a tree.”

Vinson dropped the box and paper on the floor, only to hear an unexpected clicking sound. Looking down he saw something glimmer on the wood floor next to the discarded packing material. He leaned over and gingerly picked it up with his fingertips. It was so tiny he must have overlooked it in the wrappings. It was a sliver of what looked like glass or crystal, dark in color. Vinson had a moment to notice how cold it felt against his skin before it exploded.

Archived Post

Part 2

For the third time that week Vinson canceled a meeting and ducked out of work early. In the confusing month since the mystery package arrived his life had taken a sudden hard left turn.

After waking up feeling a dull pain in his chest and hands Vinson had stumbled over to the phone and called the police. The bored operator on the other end of the phone had not taken his rambling story seriously, and the two officers that responded were openly skeptical as well.

After telling his story twice and insisting he was not on any medication Vinson regretted even trying. They took the empty box and offered medical treatment but Vinson had refused. He didn’t feel like dealing with more people thinking he was crazy and anyway the pain had faded to an empty, cold sensation. He found out what that meant soon enough.

Now he spent his free time glued to the television watching SNN, the Super News Network, and reading periodicals like SuperWorld Magazine. Vinson knew he was desperately grasping at straws, looking for any hint of guidance as to what to do about his unexpected new abilities. In theory the life of a superhero sounded thrilling, but there were a lot of memorials dedicated to dead heroes that had been cut down trying to do the right thing.

He put his head down and walked faster, hoping to get home sooner rather then later. There was a documentary called Hidden Heroes on tonight that he wanted to see. Cutting through an alleyway, he heard what might have been a car alarm ahead. Coming to the next street he froze, staring at an overturned armored truck. The vehicle’s back doors had been violently removed and were currently protruding from the broken windshield of a nearby car, hence the alarm.

He recognized the man standing watch. Tigre wore a black military style uniform and held his oversized rifle with a jaunty air. Disgraced former hero turned villainous commando, at least that was what they said on SNN.

A second man climbed out of the back of the truck loaded down with bags was bare chested and ripped with muscles. Abattoir. A super strong killer. He and his buddy had been involved in several high profile robberies all over Southern California during the last few months.

Vinson started to reach for his cell phone when the police car came barreling around the corner. He saw the driver’s eyes go wide recognizing that this was not an ordinary robbery, but it was already too late. Abattoir flung the bags of cash aside and was in front of them in the blink of an eye. He raised his meaty fits and brought them down full force on the hood of the police car, flipping it like a child’s toy.

Vinson’s instincts screamed at him to stay out of this. This situation was way beyond him and he knew it. Abattoir seemed to find it all hilariously funny and started crushing the vehicle with the two officers still trapped inside.

If I leave and someone dies can I live with it? Vinson asked himself. No… I can’t go.

Taking a deep breath Vinson walked out onto the street. He hoped they wouldn’t notice his hands were shaking. He could have shot them in the back but that didn’t seem right. The police at least gave criminals a chance first, so he should too right?

“Hey!” Vinson tried to act confident. He said the first thing that popped into his head. “Surrender and we can all go home happy okay?” Abattoir glanced at him, taking in his business work attire and continued to pummel the car. Tigre laughed out loud.

“Oh man I love it when some civilian gets a hair up his butt and starts thinking he’s a hero. I got your surrender right here little punk.” Tigre leveled his gun at Vinson. For a moment sheer terror almost overwhelmed him. He had practiced but would it hold against bullets? He raised his hands as Tigre fired. A shield of ice appeared out of thin air in front of him. The bullets made cracking sounds as they struck the barrier, making Vinson cringe his heart pounding, but he was unharmed.

Tigre wasn’t laughing anymore, and his partner stopped attacking the police officer’s car. They were taking the situation seriously now.

“Well what do you know, we’ve got a live one.” His movements a blur, Abattoir’s fists struck the ice shield with a resounding crash, nearly shattering it with only a single blow. “Not for much longer though.” Another attack would destroy his only protection.

Something in Vinson’s head clicked. That cold sensation that was always with him now swept away the terror he felt, leaving him feeling detached and calm. “No, I’m not dying today,” Vinson said out loud. Around him the shadows grew darker.

Abattoir’s second blow never fell. At first he looked surprised as tendrils of darkness lashed at him, then Abattoir began to panic. Vinson liked the fear in the villain’s eyes as he trembled and cowered. It was much better then being afraid himself.

Vinson saw something coming towards him out of the corner of his eye. Is that a rocket? It slammed into the ground in front of him. What was left of his ice shield blunted the force of the explosion but even so he was flung backwards, stunned and unable to act for a few precious moments. Abattoir was free. The big man drew back his foot and kicked him, hard. Something in Vinson’s chest made a wet snapping sound. He struggled to get up, sucking in a painful breath.

Shots, this time not from Tigre’s gun. One of the cops had gotten out and was firing at Abattoir. The villain seemed more annoyed then anything. More sirens too, or maybe it was his ears ringing Vinson wasn’t sure.

“Time to leave.” Tigre called to his partner. Abattoir shrugged and went to gather the sacks of money. Still struggling to sit up, Vinson could only watch helplessly as they left.

The police officer holstered his gun and went to help his partner out of the ruined squad car. He was a middle-aged man with streaks of grey just starting to show in his black hair. The second officer, younger and blonde, had been hurt in the attack, his right arm hanging down at an awkward angle. Satisfied that it wasn’t too serious the older man turned his attention to Vinson.

“How are you doing, son?” Vinson found that the pain in his chest was receding rapidly. He took the hand offered by the older man and slowly got to his feet. The officer’s nametag said “Jackson”.

“I’m…getting better.”

“What’s your name?” Vinson hesitated. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be public about his identity. Jackson nodded as though he understood. “I mean your cape name.”

“Totality.” It had seemed like a fitting name, but now spoken out loud in the light of day it made Vinson feel foolish. It sounded like something that a twelve year old that played too many video games would have chosen.

Jackson didn’t seem to notice. “Appreciate your help there, Totality.” He shook Vinson’s hand. “I thought we were going to be crushed to death. You’re new, right?”

“Yes.” No point in lying. Looking around at the crater and the destroyed vehicles Vinson felt lucky to be alive.

“Not registered?” The guilty look on his face must have been obvious. “Right then. If you feel okay you better take off.” Jackson went back to his partner, talking into his radio.

Vinson left as quickly as he could, brushing dust and tiny flecks of ice from his filthy dress shirt. Villains don’t take a man wearing a business suit seriously. I need to get a costume. He was almost home when he realized that he had finally made his choice.

Archived Post

Part 3

In the dark lands of Permafrost there is a castle made of Winter.

In Permafrost the sun rises only one day a year. Even then it sits low on the horizon for but an hour before setting. The polar bears, snow foxes and arctic wolves that hunt the icy wastes will pause to stare in wonder at the unfamiliar orb and then the long night starts again, the sun’s light banished and forgotten.

The castle’s towers reach upward into a cruel blizzard that never ceases. The outer walls are made of thick sheets of ice that glitter in the dancing light of the Aurora Borealis illuminating the landscape below. Inside the walls are made up of snowdrifts and cutting winds that divide the palace into a thousand empty halls and still gardens. Without a roof the castle is open to the sky and snow falls unceasingly, whispering quietly so as to not break the silence of the palace.

At the heart of the castle is a vast lake. It is frozen solid, with deep cracks shaping beautiful patterns on the black reflective surface of the ice. And at the center of the lake is a cold throne carved from the heart of a glacier, almost as beautiful as the woman that sits upon it.

Dignified and dainty, she wears a gown of gossamer white that sparkles with thousands of tiny jewels. But the jewels are really shards of ice and her skin is whiter then her gown and her fingertips are black from frostbite and despite her beauty there is no warmth in her eyes. She watches flickering images that dance in the ice before her, one in particular of a young man fumbling to put on a foolish costume. Perched on her shoulder is an albino crow that also watches intently with red eyes that seem to comprehend more then they should.

Amused by what she sees, the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. She spoke to the bird, her eyes never leaving the mirror like surface of the lake.

“Go and collect him. Take those from the gardens that can help you carry out the task.” Nothing would grow in the killing cold, so the Queen populated her gardens with hapless creatures frozen into icy statues. Intruders had many uses once they fell under her dominion.

The albino crow cawed and launched itself into the air. He was weary of the endless night. It would be good to visit the mortal lands again, to do his Queen’s bidding and to feast.

((Totality’s back-story has been inspired by the fairy tale “The Snow Queen” by Hans Christian Anderson.))

Archived Post

Part 4

In the bathroom of his new apartment Vinson leaned forward to examine his reflection more closely. The changes had been subtle at first but were accelerating. His ordinary brown hair was now streaked with white and his skin was fading too. Even his eyes had shifted to a paler shade of blue.

Worse still, earlier that day the skin on his left hand had sloughed off in the shower. That event had left him near hysteria as he tried to absorb the fact that his hand looked like it was made of ice. Even now the cold, disconnected feeling of his transparent appendage made him feel sick.

Baxter wandered into the bathroom licking his chops. Vinson leaned down to scratch him behind the ears with his good hand, eliciting a contented purring sound.

“Well fed Ice Cube?” He grinned. It was thanks to Baxter’s early morning nagging for food that Vinson had first used his new found powers. It had taken many months of special treats to get the old feline to trust him again after that incident.

Vinson’s smile faded. He was joking about it now but it wasn’t really funny. That, and the growing list of unsettling physical changes prompted Vinson to take action. He went out to the kitchen, picked up the phone up and dialed.

“Welcome to the automated phone system of the Los Angeles Police Department. If this is an emergency hang up now and dial nine one one. Listen carefully to the following options…” Vinson made an educated guess as to which number would get him a live operator, pressed zero and waited.

He blamed his delay on reading one too many comic books as a kid. All his favorite stories had been about the lone, anti-hero types. They fought crime by night, and by day ran multi million dollar corporations and enjoyed a whirlwind social life that involved dating super models all the while maintaining a secret identity. When he lost his job Vinson realized that not everyone got to be the perfect super hero that had it all.

“Los Angels Police Department. How can I help you?”

“Yes, I reported an… incident a while back. I have some new information about what happened. I need to talk to someone about the situation.”

“Do you have the police report number?”

Vinson consulted a form lying on the counter and read off the number, while somewhere down the hallway a door banged open. Searching for quiet, he walked into the living room. Outside the window a large white bird seemed startled by his entrance and flew off.

Was that bird an albino? Freaky looking thing.

After a long pause the operator read the number back to him, enunciating carefully.

“Right, that’s it.”

“Please hold.” A recorded safety message about the dangers of driving while intoxicated began to play.

At the time there had been only an empty cardboard box to back up his story of an explosion. Now he certainly had some evidence didn’t he? He flexed his hand, not looking at it. Maybe the case would be turned over to PRIMUS? UNTIL? Vinson wasn’t certain who, but some government agency had to care about strange objects sent in the mail that caused super powers.

“Sir?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Sir, that is an invalid number.”

“What? I have the piece of paper right here that the officer gave me.”

She read the number back to him again. “Is that correct?”

“Yes it is.” More doors slammed outside. Then it sounded like a herd of baby elephants were running down the hall. The paper-thin walls in this building meant he could hear everything, a fact that many of his neighbors did not seem to know or care about. Starting to feel frustrated he walked over to his front door. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.”

“Sir, I am telling you there is no such incident on file.”

“But there has to be…” The words died in his throat when he looked out the peephole. A massive shape stalked past his door, followed by a second and third.

“Sir I suggest you come down here and bring that paper with you. It is possible it hasn’t made its way into the system yet.” The operator was sounding impatient but Vinson didn’t notice.

They were ragged white wolves. Impossibly huge white wolves. In the middle of July. In his apartment complex. With red eyes and mouths full of teeth and jaws that dripped red tinged foam.

The largest one paused and turned back. It sniffed the air, searching. Vinson felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as he realized that something this strange had to be aimed at him. The one Vinson assumed to be the alpha of the pack then stood up on its back legs. He watched it gingerly walk towards his door as though it were naturally a biped, looking both comical and menacing.

“Sir? Did you hear what I said?”

“Uh, I’ll call back later.” Vinson hung up.

He backed away, bracing for a fight. Great, who did I manage to **** off? Most of what he did so far involved muggers and other mundane crime. He couldn’t think of anything important enough for someone to hunt him down like this.

Sounds at the door. Did it… just knock? Dumbstruck, he stared at the door waiting for something to happen. Two distinct raps, louder this time.

There’s a wolf knocking at my door. That’s original. Can this situation get any more bizarre?

Archived Post

Part 4 continued

Vinson took a deep breath and raised his voice. “Ah…yes?”

Muffled rumbling voice. “Good afternoon. Might you be one Vinson Blake?”

“What if I say no?”

Snarling. Words in a language Vinson did not understand. “Please do not lie, it is unbecoming of one such as you.”

What is that supposed to mean?

“Our Queen requires your presence. It would behoove you to come with us. Your blood will not be spilt.”

Vinson had his doubts. He was fairly certain that if he opened the door one of the giant wolves could nip his head off without breaking a sweat. His imagination conjured up an unpleasant image of what his headless body would look like.

“Not by the hair of my chinnie chin chin?” He wasn’t sure the nursery rhyme was right but it provoked a reaction never the less. Howling in rage the wolf hit the door hard enough to crack the doorframe. More snarling.

Barely comprehensible it spat out, “Curse you! Do not use such words with us! If you do not let us inside to parley then we shall eat one of the mortals that reside here.”

As if on cue there was the sound of a door being opened. A woman’s shriek echoed down the hall a moment later, followed by the door being slammed shut again.

It would be great if they ate that annoying teenager in number twenty-eight…Oh hell, I had better let them in. They can break it down anyway.

He quickly unlocked the door and stepped back, wary of losing his head. It swung open. Despite being hunched over the alpha wolf’s bulk still filled the doorway, red eyes staring down at him. Even from a few feet away Vinson could smell the stench of rotten meat on its breath.

Its lips pulled back as though it were trying to offer a reassuring smile, which only made Vinson more nervous. “This is better, is it not? So now you will come with us. The journey is far yet fast as we have wings to take us there.” Behind the alpha one of the other wolves let out a high pitched yipping noise that sounded like laughter.

“Why do you want me to come with you to see this person?”

“Who can say? All I know is that she calls on the wind and we answer for she is the Queen. That is the way it has always been in our lands.”

“Who is the Queen?” He shivered, feeling chilled. It was getting colder.

It griped the edge of the doorjamb with its paws, toes longer then they should be with too many joints. “Come now. It will be best for you.”

“I’d like some answers first.”

“You delay.” The wolf’s faux smile widened as it shook its head in mock pity. “It is no matter. We were only a distraction.”

Tensing, Vinson turned around. The windows in his living room were now opaque from a layer of ice. Behind him the alpha wolf struck with such force Vinson felt like he had almost been snapped in two. Feet going numb, he tried to concentrate, to shield himself but they gave him no time. All three were on him, grasping at him with paws that felt more like hands. They pulled him into the living room when the windows shattered inwards followed by a shock wave of icy air.

A dizzying sense of motion and he caught a glimpse of open sky. Vinson knew the wolves had jumped taking him with them, so he desperately twisted around in an effort to not be on the bottom of their three-story fall. He succeeded and wrenched himself from their grasp, rolling away. Still on the ground he called forth a wall of ice to contain the thrashing pile of wolves before they sorted themselves out.

Using his elbows he dragged himself further down the alley, needing distance to work and time to heal. Gasping he could see his breath in the air, clouds of white and the asphalt was cold and slick in patches where ice had formed and Vinson knew he wasn’t doing it. Halfway down the block his ice construct exploded, howls of pain followed.

Feeling was returning to his lower body so he stood and faced them. Calm now that it was time for violence Vinson hurled blasts of shadow and ice. Only the alpha reached him, slamming him to the ground hard enough to crack his head. Stars danced before his eyes.

Blindly he twisted his head to avoid the alpha’s jaws. Instead of tearing Vinson’s throat out it clamped onto his shoulder. He screamed through gritted teeth and called forth the hungry shadow. It drained the life out of the wolf but not before it sank its teeth into him again. It then became a struggle to pull himself from beneath the wolf’s dead weight. Working his way out he noticed that the blood smeared on his skin and spilled on the ground was already frozen.

Something else is here. And it’s coming closer.

Shivering, Vinson saw someone walking down the alleyway towards him. He looked like a knight of old encased in brilliant white armor with a helm in the shape of a bird’s head. Intricate sigils adorned the metal and over his shoulders he wore a long cloak made of white feathers. A powerful aura of cold preceded him, bitter enough to make Vinson suck in a sharp breath at the shock of it.

“Great. Who are you supposed to be?” It was difficult to keep his teeth from chattering.

The knight did not answer and continued to stride towards him.

Let’s see. My apartment is a mess, my so-called secret identity is probably blown thanks to a pack of wolves at my door, and now Sir Lancelot wants to be the strong silent type. Screw this.

“Fine. You’re just another douche bag then.” Vinson took aim, gathering his energies for one intense burst. He felt unsteady and wanted this over quickly. His summoned bolt slammed into the knight’s armor creating a spray of ice and snow. Pausing for only a moment, he brushed snow off his armor with a scornful gesture.

The knight laughed in an echoing voice. To Vinson’s ears it sounded like the suit was hollow, that if he lifted the visor there would only be a dark pit inside. “You think to use winter against me?”

He gestured. Cold and wind coalesced into a force that picked up Vinson and slammed him into a brick wall. Another gesture and he was brutally thrown into the wall on the opposite side of the alley.

Walking over, the knight casually backhanded him with his mailed fist. Vinson’s head snapped sideways and he tasted blood. Slumped over against the cold bricks, barely conscious, Vinson knew he would be dead already if he were still a normal human being.

“He has a vulgar mouth. Hold him steady.” Two of the wounded wolves crept forward, looking only a little worse for wear. They grabbed him, paws with fingers digging into his flesh. “No matter the glamour, I think this is a lesson you will remember.”

The knight began his lesson in pain. If Vinson healed too much the wolves brayed laugher in the high-pitched voices of dead children and the knight only increased his efforts. It went on and on. When it was done Vinson’s teeth were broken, jagged stumps and he was blind in one eye.

Others arrived, dark shapes on two legs and four that Vinson couldn’t see clearly. One seemed to address the knight. “More of the constables are arriving.”

“Very well. We shall depart.” The knight’s rattling voice sounded pleased now. “Bring him.”

The stinking wolves lifted him up. A small part of Vinson’s mind still knew fear and desperately wanted to learn where they were taking him, but the greater part was lost in a haze of misery. Everything seemed distant and it was so cold, he couldn’t care anymore.

With a bright flash of light there was the terrible sensation of being torn out of the world, and they were gone.