100 Words A Day by Hydrargentium

Well, at least 100 words — best served random….

Tag: Killerwatt

Something smelled… off.

Rex couldn’t quite put his finger on it. No, he chuckled to himself, not his finger. His nose.

“What are you hiding?”

Killerwatt stared at him. Rex could smell the change in his sweat. Definitely, he was hiding something.

“You might as well just tell me. I’ll find it anyway.” Rex sniffed the air, exaggerating the expression on his face as he did so. “I’ll sniff it out.”

What he was really waiting for was for Killerwatt to do the guilty glance. The right kind of guilty look, especially if he thought Rex wasn’t watching, would tell him where to look. Yes, he could sniff around, but without knowing what he was trying to find, it would take him forever.

Ah. There it was. Killerwatt’s gaze shifted briefly but sharply to the left, down low.

Rex sniffed again, loudly. “Over here? In the garbage can? What have you dumped in here, hoping I won’t find it?”

He started to stroll over to the wastepaper basket, and then dove for cover as he heard Killerwatt move, the smell of ozone hitting his nostrils like a splash of cold water.

“Jeez, I wish I had weather powers.”

Killerwatt looked at him like he’d just said he was thinking of donating an organ to charity.

“Whaddaya mean? What’s wrong with your powers?”

“I hate this rain. If I had weather powers, I’d make it stop raining.”

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about. You’re not getting wet.”

Sandblast looked Killerwatt up and down. His friend was huddled under a black umbrella, his shoulders dry but his spandex leggings soaked through. Then he looked up at the sky, watching rain teem out of the darkness, and shook his head to clear the rain from his eyes.

“Well, my skin’s not getting wet, but you know what happens when you mix sand and water? You know what. Mud.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, Killerwatt noticed that Sandblast’s layer of protective sand was beginning to resemble gritty, half-melted wax. It drooped from his nose and his chin, was streaked with gullies off his shoulders and down his arms, and the ground was marked with tawny droplets the size of nickels.

“Yeah, it uh, it looks like you’re losing some there.”

Sandblast looked down and sighed. Another blob rolled off the top of his forehead, slid down his nose, and landed in a puddle with a plop.

“Doesn’t really look like mud, y’know? Looks like quicksand.”

“Not helping.”

“Or maybe puke, like if you’d got drunk at the beach, and there was sand in your beer…”

“Not. Helping.”

“Seriously?! This is insane. How can a train be this late?”

Killerwatt shrugged. “It’s only twenty minutes.”

“Twenty-three. Twenty-three minutes. It’s right here on my phone. And it’s stupid.”

Sand shifted back and forth between his hands, jumping the gap with a hiss.

“It’s not like it could’ve got caught in traffic, right? The only reason it could be late is if someone stopped it from leaving.”

Sparks arced absently between Killerwatt’s fingers.

“Maybe it got caught in an inter-dimensional rift or something.”

“There’s no such thing. Doctor Apex told me that, last time we went out drinking.”

“There could be. No one really knows.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

Sandblast ducked as a stray beam of sizzling energy narrowly missed his left ear.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to hear it.”

Killerwatt shook his head as he leaned out past the end of the overturned bus and fired off a shock of lighting. Seeing the damage he caused, he shrugged and looked at his hands before turning back to the conversation.

“What, you don’t like the truth?”

Sandblast began coating himself in his sand. As it covered his face, his voice turned muffled and flat.

“If I’d wanted to deal with the truth, I wouldn’t have become a fucking supervillain.”