Villain Arc

My name is Bruce Kent. The one you know as “The Devil of Thunder.” The story you are about to hear is my version of what happened. You have probably heard, or will hear, plenty of different versions of things. The media loves to spin, and the government loves to cover, but this…this is the truth. This is what really happened.

Not long ago, I was a normal guy just like you, your neighbor, or anybody else you know. I was a bank teller, a working stiff, and not even a good one. I worked at one of those banks you ignore that’s renting space in your local grocery store. Sad, I know.

I had a crappy apartment on the south side of town. One of those places where the only thing that works right is the bars on the windows. It was all I could afford, barely working full-time hours for barely over minimum wage.

I had a girlfriend, but she was no help. She dropped out of college because she thought she could make more money as an influencer. Now she’s 30, she hasn’t made a dime, and she refuses to work because “any day now” her channel will take off. Right.

The day it all began is a day I will never forget. It was literally the worst day of my life. It started off like most days do, at work. I was at the bank in my company-issued shirt that made me look like a total dork, and we had just opened up. I hadn’t even had my coffee yet.

I counted my drawer and looked up, and there was this guy standing there, and, I can’t make this up, he was wearing boxers as a mask. I was more confused than scared. I thought it was one of the grocery store employees playing a prank on me.

I was getting ready to laugh when the guy pulled a gun and started screaming. “I want all the money in this bag right now!”

I was stunned. I just stood there, frozen, staring at the gun, thinking, “Why would someone want to rob THIS bank?”

My manager pushed me out of the way, jarring me from my thoughts. He opened all the drawers, filled the man’s bag, and sent him on his way.

I watched as the man ran out of the bank… in the wrong direction. I stepped out of the bank’s area and watched as the man spun around in confused circles. I shook my head, actually feeling sorry for the guy. Drugs do terrible things to people.

Suddenly the guy turned and locked eyes with me. The next thing I knew, he was running directly at me, full speed. When he got close, I ducked, and the would-be bank robber fell over my back and into a soda display.

The man was taken into custody, the bank got its money back, and later that day, I was fired. Yes, fired. The thing is, some banks have a policy against employees stopping robberies. Because what I did was seen as just that, I got a pat on the back from the police and a pink slip from my employer.

After I was walked out of the building, I got in my car, and it wouldn’t start. Fantastic. I opened the hood to take a look and got a face full of black smoke for my trouble. I slammed the hood down and started walking home. No need to call anyone or check my account; I knew I didn’t have any money.

I took five steps. Just five, and the bottom fell out. No lightning, no thunder, no warning at all, just a sudden downpour. The rain was so thick I was instantly soaked to the bone. I stood there for a second just staring at my shoes. They had holes in the soles.

By the time I made it home, the rain had let up, but it was dark. I was freezing, I was wet, and I was already sneezing. All I wanted was a hot meal, a shower, and my bed. Evidently that was too much to ask.

I opened the door and was honestly not surprised by what I saw. It hurt to see it, but I wasn’t surprised. My girlfriend of three years was getting railed by the gym bro next door. I didn’t yell, I didn’t scream; I just stood there.

He tried to tell me it wasn’t what it looked like. She begged me to let her explain. I saw the cameras. I saw the ring lights. Some influencer. I turned around and walked out.

I walked aimlessly for God knows how long. I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t angry; I was just numb. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. That’s dangerous in my neighborhood.

Out of nowhere, three guys grabbed me and tried to rob me. When they realized I had nothing but an out-of-date phone, they beat the hell out of me.

When I woke up, I hurt all over. I tried to take a breath; that hurt. I started to cough; that hurt. I groaned and tried to sit up; that hurt a lot. I looked around and didn’t recognize the room I was in. The bed I was in was softer than any I had ever been in. I looked down and realized I was naked and covered in bandages.

I sighed heavily. “What now?” I asked the room out loud.

“I think ‘thank you’ are the words you are looking for.” A sweet French accent floated in from the next room through a beaded curtain. A moment later, a woman who looked like sex in a silk robe stepped through that same curtain.

Her hair was wrapped in a silk, green and black scarf, and her robe clung to her generous curves to make my body twitch despite the pain I was in. Her chocolate lips and mahogany skin made the woman look like a walking fertility statue. All I could do was stare.

“Good to see you’re awake, Bruce. You may call me Lady Marmalade.”