Monday, February 01, 2016

A Particular Set of Skills

Novmeldt slowly opened the door. He was sneaking in. Quietly. It was his daughter's birthday and despite his career choices he'd always been one of those Dads. The ones who were always there on the kid's birthdays. Always doting on the kids.

His daughter had moved away to college. To find herself, she said. He couldn't say no and let her. He was sure she would find her own path. She was bright, gorgeous and a very hard worker. He just hoped she didn't decide on superhero. That'd really suck given his chosen profession. Might be par for the course though: the karmic chicken always came home to roost.

He had a surprise for his daughter today. It was her birthday and he had rounded up her old friends and some of the new ones for a surprise party. They'd be over in about an hour to help start decorating. And, man, can a supervillian like dear old Dad do a party.

He snuck in carefully. He didn't want to accidentally find his daughter in a compromising situation. Oy. Then he'd have to be extra evil to the young man. Or woman, he supposed. Geez. Mad Dads were one thing. Supervillian Mad Dad's were another. So long as he didn't see it...

What he did see was devastating. Well, devastated. The room was destroyed. Someone had come in and torn it apart. There was evidence of a fight: blaster marks on the walls, too accurate for anyone other than his daughter: she'd used it to shoot down the chandelier. There was the smell of scorched blood. He felt proud: he'd forbidden her from taking her blaster from home to college and obviously she'd made one on her own. Again. Pride filled with terror.

He looked around and then saw a computer, a consumer computer, come to life.

An imagine of her appeared. Bound. Gagged. Terrified.

Then blurred voice.

"We have your daughter...."

Novmeldt, supervillian Dad, interrupted and loomed towards the computer and its pathetically 21st century, consumer grade webcam:

"I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I do have plenty of money. But what also I have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you let my daughter go now, that'll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you...

"Or worse."

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