Nyte's Point of View
"Another week, another failure, eh?" Hamburger Satan taunted as she walked by. Goddess, that girl could really strut like a peahen, her red cape fluttering behind in a display of haughty triumph.
Poor Nethys, her scorpion tail was drooping lower than Nyte had ever seen it, nearly dragging on the floor behind her. She punched the girl in her cyborg arm, not hard, just a light, friendly tap that said, "Hey, keep your chin up, girl."
This meeting had been such a disaster. The woman herself, Jellyfish Hitler, gave Nethys a dressing down over the ineffectiveness of her robots and relieved her from active duty. Operations against Future Hero would be under the direction of Hamburger Satan from now on, and girl, did number two love to let everyone know about it. Bitch.
"It won't be so bad." Nyte tried to sound encouraging. "You can spend more time with Rich and me off duty. He mentioned he's been trying to include you in stuff."
Nethys' mechanical eye flashed red, and her tail stuck straight up in the air. "Don't say his name!" she rasped.
Whoa, Nethys was scary when she took a threat posture like that. Suitably chastened, Nyte inclined her head. Yeah, it was probably best that sweet Rich didn't get mixed up in Stinger business. "Seriously, Nethys, what's eating you? I've read the after-action reports. Those robots aren't anywhere near your best work. It's something else, isn't it? Just tell me."
"I can't!"
Nyte just looked at her flatly, applying the "silent pressure" Rich told her about. Honestly, she had no idea she was doing it. Eventually, Nethys cracked and broke the silence.
"It's a family matter, okay? Private stuff. There's a lot on my mind, needles I have to thread, but the pressure has been getting to me lately."
Nyte stood closer, increasing the pressure. "All the more reason to tell me. A family matter is my business too."
Nethys blinked in confusion. "What do you mean? You're not a member of our family."
It was Nyte's turn to express indignation. "Aren't I? Ri-, I mean, my boyfriend and I have literally discussed how many children we want to have. We're not just any high school couple, Nethys. We're very serious about each other. If it concerns him, it concerns me."
The Scorpion Queen hung her head, looking thoroughly defeated, as well she might. "It's just...complicated, okay. My head isn't in the game because it turned out I'm actually risking more than I thought I would."
Wasn't that the truth? With Stinger, you always got more than you bargained for, and not usually in a nice way. "Why are you even here?" Nyte asked, genuinely curious. On a whim, she decided to offer a tidbit about herself as a peace offering. "Before you answer, I could tell you some things. See, I'm not exactly here by choice. My mom made a deal, and Stinger came to collect. I'm the payment, partially. Of course, they're going to expect way more when she becomes mayor. Somehow, the debt never really goes down. I just hope college will be a bit more normal. So far, Stinger shit has mostly been an annoying part-time job, cramps my style, but at least they don't call me in for the petty shit."
Nethys stroked her cybernetic scorpion tail, as if to soothe it, or herself. Her robotic eye dimmed a bit, the glow barely visible in the fairly well-lit headquarters building. "We're not so different, you and I. Your mom is a partner in a law firm. My mom is in the meat-processing industry. Plant, equipment, workers, all together our assets are worth millions. She wants to expand, expand big. Stinger was able to get me the kind of education I needed to take operations to the next level, but some of it is...distateful, you know."
"Distasteful how?"
"We kill people, Nyte, good people," she said bitterly. "I didn't sign up for this shit."
"You know, I've never actually killed anyone on assignment," Nyte admitted. It was strange, but try as she might, the Spider Queen couldn't recall a single incident where she had to use lethal force. Her presence was usually enough to cow resistance. The only lives she ever took, ironically, were disobedient Stinger soldiers who needed to be corrected.
"Maybe not you, but my aunt is no longer with us. His own mother, Nyte! How could he ever forgive us?" Goddess, there were...tears in her single human eye.
Nyte rose to her full height and folded her arms. "The women responsible are all dead. I made sure. The word is out not to fuck with Rich or anything connected to Rich. He's safe, Nethys. I can protect what's mine."
"I hope you're right," Nethys muttered quietly. "I really do."
Geez, what was with Nethys today? So dramatic. Hamburger Satan going after Future Hero had nothing to do with Rich.
***
"Goddess, you look so hot in that," Julie moaned in appreciation. They were in her room, putting on their Halloween costumes. She ran her hands over his chest, just a graze, really, and adjusted the harness that held up the angel wings strapped to his back. Technically, this was "copping a feel," but Rich felt he could permit his girlfriend at least this much when they were alone.
In his mind, Julie was way hotter. Her devil costume showed a lot of skin, but she was completely unfazed. "What? It's hot in hell," she'd said in confusion. "Why would devils cover up? It's just like going to the beach, anyway."
Right, just like going to the beach. There was a wire in his hair that held up a little halo over his head. It was pretty well hidden, unless you stood right next to him and looked closely.
"What did I do to deserve such a hot boyfriend?" she asked in wonder. "You look like a goddess damned Victor's Secret angel. People will go nuts when they see."
"You won't be jealous when other girls see me in this?" He was a little worried. Julie was possessive at the best of times.
"Fuck no. I want them to look! Let the world see how hot you are. Strut your stuff. I won't be the jealous one, Rich. Trust me on that."
Rich didn't feel especially hot right now. You see, the modesty rules of a reverse world were quite different from his first life. His costume was, essentially, a white t-shirt with angel wings and a halo, pretty basic. Only, white tees were considered lingerie here. Actually showing chest, shoulders, or midriff as a man was considered indecent exposure. Even arms were questionable. A short-sleeved shirt on a man was like a woman wearing short shorts in the other world.
His fairly tame outfit was the reverse world equivalent of walking around in a lacy bra. Never mind Julie's cleavage or short skirt. That was nothing. Women's bodies weren't sexualized, no different from how men could be shirtless at the beach in his first life.
They were getting ready to visit the new haunted house that had opened in town, and from there, a big Halloween party with the football team and all the popular kids. They won their last game of the regular season last night, clinching a spot in the state championship playoffs, and everyone was ready to let down their hair and celebrate.
"Ready to go, babe?" Julie asked. Rich could hear her car keys jingling in her hand as he put some finishing touches on his makeup. He was surprised to find a makeup kit in the bathroom closest to Julie's room, including, of all things, purple eyeshadow. Something left over from when her dad still lived with them? Eh, probably nothing.
"Be right out!" he called back. His girlfriend was laughing softly when he emerged a moment later. Her grin was devilish enough to match her costume. "What's so funny?" he asked.
She bent over slightly and kissed his forehead. "I was just thinking of all those jokes about boys taking forever to get ready."
"But I don't take forever to get ready!" he defended himself.
Julie's grin became sharper. "I know." She put her hand on the small of his back and guided him outside. "Even when you started wearing more makeup, you've never so much as slowed me down." When they got to her car she rushed to the other side to open it for him.
Rich unhooked the harness of his angel wings and put them in the backseat. When he was about to sit down he noticed she was looking at him pensively. "Is there something on my face?"
One moment she was shaking her head with a wry smile, and the next her lips were on his. The pressure was enough to make Rich gasp. Once it sensed an inch of daylight, Julie's tongue invaded his mouth, exploratory at first, but then devouring, dominating. All he could do was wrap his arms around her waist, tilt his head up, and submit. In response, Julie's kiss became deeper, hungrier, no longer merely insistent but absolutely demanding. He thought he'd completely lose himself until, at last, she pulled away. His girlfriend was flushed and breathless, and Rich could only assume he was much the same.
They'd made out before, but she'd never kissed him quite like that. Idly, he found himself looking forward to his birthday in a few months, where, by mutual agreement, they'd take the next step in their relationship.
"You absolutely ruined my makeup," Rich complained, but there was no heat in it.
"Touch yourself up on the drive there, baby. The haunted house is on the other side of town." With that, they both got into Julie's BMW and drove into the night.
On the way there, Rich noticed a flash mob practicing their dance moves in a public park. The leaders were a woman in a devil costume and a Michael, er, Michelle Jackson impersonator.
Unconsciously, Rich found himself nodding along to the beat. Michelle Jackson was still alive. He wondered if he could save her. Pureheart Power could heal; he'd done it before. The music was just that good, never mind the allegations. If anybody deserved a pass, it was Michelle Jackson.
"Just beat it! Beat it! No one wants to be defeated!" he and Julie sang together when they drove by. Man, it was just so infectious. For a split second, he considered skipping the haunted house and joining the flash mob.
When they arrived at the haunted house, the couple walked in to the rhythm of a song only they could hear.
The jaw of the girl selling tickets actually dropped. "Goddess, you're the best-looking couple I've ever seen."
"We get that a lot," Julie said arrogantly, not even mad when the ticket girl blatantly checked Rich out. Seriously, it was just a white t-shirt. Reverse worlds could be so ridiculous.
The line to the haunted house bent and turned, with stacked hay bales and painted sets to obscure their view of what lay ahead, building anticipation. There were dungeons, a spooky castle, a graveyard, and a depiction of what looked like an ancient Egyptian tomb.
"BOO!"
Rich screamed, and Julie held him protectively, but he could tell she jumped in surprise as well. The wall had a hole in it where a woman in a mummy costume popped out to scare people waiting in line. Oh, they got us good! he thought.
As he came down from the spike of adrenaline, an idle thought popped into Rich's mind. If Stinger was planning anything, this would be the perfect ambush sight. Halloween costumes would be a great disguise to allow a monster to get close to people before going on a rampage. Still holding on tight to his girlfriend, he fingered his ring. It paid to be prepared.
There were a few more jump scares, including a false one where the monster turned out to be the host welcoming them to the haunted house. She was dressed like the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, or whatever it was called here.
"Come one, call all, my patrons true, and I shall be a guide to you. But soft! Take care, and stay with me, or else, be lost eternally."
Rich and Julie looked at each other and smiled. The actors were really getting into it.
The Mad Hatter took them on a fun tour of spooky rooms, with plenty of jump scares, including a really brutal one with an animatronic electric chair. The screams of agony were really realistic! Their small group stuck close, and Julie never let him go, not once. Her strong arms held him tight, only getting tighter when a loud sound or sudden movement startled them together.
At the end of the tour, the Mad Hatter woman took off her tophat and bowed. "My thanks to you, my patron friends, a parting sweet, to different ends. Many a fright we all have shared, what things we saw, what dangers dared! Now off you go, tarry not, the music calls, your mortal lot!"
Those rhymes were pretty fun, but Rich didn't get the last part. What music?
His girlfriend, bless her, wasn't listening at all. Grabbing him every time an actor in a monster costume popped out was thrill enough for her.
When they got back to the parking lot, Rich finally felt safe enough to let his guard down. Maybe Stinger was taking the night off?
Speaking of music, they could hear the huge house party from a block away as they drove up. Some kind of rap rock Rich didn't recognize was blaring. It was even louder when they walked in. Was Limp Bizkit still popular in 2005? It sounded kind of like that, except sung by a girl. Julie said something, but Rich couldn't hear her.
"HEEEEEY!"
People noticed they had finally arrived, fashionably late, and swarmed them. Jessie, the running back, had a boy on each arm, and Becca and Beni were hanging off each other, with red solo cups in their off hands. Somebody handed one to Rich as well.
"Drink!" she yelled over the noise.
He looked at his girlfriend. Her eyes were encouraging. Oh, what the hell! He drank!
It was awful! If Rich were a betting man, he'd guess it was cheap vodka mixed with fruit punch, what they used to call jungle juice.
Don't think much of me, do you? he wondered. Of course, they assumed he could only handle something fruity and sickly sweet. He was about to go ask around for a Tecate when the music cut out.
"Hey, somebody get the tunes back on!" Julie ordered, but before anybody could fix the speaker, another song started up.
It was unmistakably the opening sound effect to Thriller. Rich could feel the buildup at the base of his spine until the chord hit. DA! DAAA!
Without meaning to, his toe started tapping. The song wasn't coming from the speakers or even outside. It was everywhere and nowhere, a part of the landscape. People formed a conga line, stepping in time to the beat. Rich and Julie and everyone else found themselves getting swept up in it.
Outside, the Michelle Jackson impersonator was waiting, already dressed for the Thriller video in that iconic jacket.
"It's close to miiiiidnight~" she began to sing, and the conga line broke apart. There was no thought; there was only the song. The football players, all the popular boys, the great and the good of PLUH, started dancing like they'd been practicing for weeks. Michelle led them all, singing perfectly. Through the corner of his eye, Rich saw houses up and down the street emptying, the local families leaving their homes and merging into this impromptu performance. Somehow, everybody already knew the choreography.
They danced! They danced! They danced so long that Rich lost track of time. A full moon, brilliant and bright, hung low in the sky, illuminating their ghostly performance.
Wait, ghostly?
The longer they danced, the more haggard people became. When the first person dropped from exhaustion, Rich realized something was wrong.
"Keeping going! Shamone!" Michelle called over her shoulder. "The night is young! It's that Thriller! Thriller Night~"
They didn't stop. They couldn't stop!
Rich watched Michelle Jackson as he danced along with the rest. She looked bad, almost like a zombie, worse than any plastic surgery. Monstrous features were hidden under her hat.
Stinger! This was a monster, and she was going to mind-control them into dancing until they quite literally dropped dead! He had to do something!
Realizing he only had one chance, Rich muttered the rhyme, finishing when the choreography included raised hands:
"From a future dark
To a post not set,
Stinger hasn't won just yet,
With Pureheart Power, a noble mission,
Come forth! Future Hero! Henshin!"
In an explosion of Pureheart Power, Future Hero broke the spell. "I'm afraid the concert is over, Michelle!"
"Hee! Hee! That's where you're wrong, Future Hero!" the monster said in a soft, quiet voice that somehow carried across the neighborhood. The music shifted, and the Michelle Jackson monster started moonwalking. In fact, she moonwalked all the way to a quarry.
"Stand still!" Future Hero said tightly, but Michelle effortlessly dodged every punch and kick in time with the song.
"I'm a dancer, not a fighter, boy. Shamone!"
Somehow, the ground where she stepped lit up just like the Billie Jean music video! The more she danced, the weaker Rich got. Her movements were hypnotic, he had to, had to...
Future Hero spun in place, countering her dance with a dance of his own.
Michelle's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You challenging me to a dance battle?"
"So what if I am?" he returned gamely. Now Rich was getting into it! Purple sparks struck when he stomped. His feet were hot! His body was hot! They got in each other's faces, and Rich let Pureheart Power guide him, matching Michelle move for move.
The song shifted again. This time Bad reverberated from the quarry walls. They were really battling now, dancing aggressively, trying to top each other. Fast, too fast! Rich could only keep up because of the Endram Armor.
The moon was so close, a mystic audience of one as they both danced so hard their feet burned the very ground.
Michelle's confident smirk gradually shifted into a displeased frown when she noticed her shoes melt off while Future Hero's boots stayed strong.
Rich was sweating so much. The cool of October could do nothing. It was dance or be damned!
"Why aren't you falling?" Michelle demanded. "Anyone else would've had a heart attack by now!"
"I'm Future Hero, Stinger girl, and heroes don't get tired! Shamone!" Now, Rich started moonwalking. He moonwalked in a circle around the monster, enraging her even more.
What were once smooth movements became harsh, jerky, with lots of wasted motion as anger got the better of the Michelle Jackson monster. At last, Thriller came back for the big finale. The words of genderbent Vincent Price a warning, "And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver, for no mere mortal can resist the evil of the Thriller!"
"Future Hero is no mere mortal!" Rich taunted, striking a victory pose.
Clouds of steam emanated from Michelle Jackson's skin. "What? Shamone! No! Hee! Hee! Not yet I-"
Her dancing was now erratic, plunging into the abyss like a train with no brakes. She couldn't stop, but she couldn't continue either.
"No! Shamone! The children! The children need me!"
Michelle burst into flames, continuing the dance for about thirty more seconds before crumpling into ashes. A cold October wind carried the ashes away, visible only for a moment as the cloud caught the light of the impassive moon.
"Who's the king of pop now!"