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I Need a Hero (1/16)

Hockey Big Bang submission


Author: Zarfe

Artist: unfrosted_cake/helenorvana

Pairing: Gabriel Landeskog/Mark Olver, Taylor Hall/Jordan Eberle/OFC, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, Steve Downie/Steven Stamkos, Brendan Shanahan. Several OC's that are just supporting characters.

Rating: M

Word count: 44,212

Warnings/spoilers: Dub-con, mind control, coercive tendencies, extreme violence (I'm not kidding. Please skip this if that stuff bothers you), child endangerment, torture, swearing, sex scene, talk about sex.

Summary: SUPERHERO AU, Gabriel Landeskog is an evil psychic looking for a challenge. He thinks that the well known Heroes aren't up to the task of fighting him, so he goes out into the world to find someone he could make into a Hero to combat him. Little does he know that while he's not paying attention to the Heroes, they are forming up to catch him.
Super powers, completely AU in the fact that the city, the world, is entirely different than our own. All is described in detail.

Notes: NOT A CRACK FIC! Pairings and characters are all detailed and fully fleshed out. The overview of what the world is like was based loosely on E.Y.E: Divine Cybermancy, and are only altered vaguely to fit my needs.

Link to fic: AO3

Link to art: Dreamwidth

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The skylines of the Megalopolis cities were something that Gabe really thought he would never get over. He hadn't been too old when the world began to change, but he could still remember how much the old cities paled in comparison. High rises dotted with old and crumbling architecture held nothing to the new towers and their neon glow. The bottoms of them were impossible to see from his apartment-- pent house-- do to the smog and other pollutants that were still pumped into the air. Regardless, those bowels held no interest to Gabe. What kept him looking out the windohad been a large fire burning some distance off. In the background he could hear the television, a female reporter speaking excitedly about what had been taking place a few miles behind her. The camera, a special design that could reduce anything between it and it's target to a strange set of skeletal x-ray lines, captured the inferno that she could not get to.

"…Which happened nearly two hours ago. Fire and police have yet to be able to enter any part of the structure due to the warehouse's contents.

"As what has recently become public knowledge, EnviroMark has begun mass production of the newest, and, reportedly, cleanest biofuel to be created. A spokesman, in a press conference last week, said that the fuel burns hotter and longer than any currently marketed ignition source. The warehouse was one of three storage facilities that were housing the fuel in preparation for their consumer launch later this month. Any casualties are unknown at this time, but the company has informed emergency responders that as much as 50 people could have been working in the warehouse at the time of the explosion." Gabe rose his glass to his lips mechanically, hardly even registering it as the common gesture went through its paces. The fire was only a small part of what his attention had been fixated on. What he really cared about had been the skies above it, the ground around it, everything he couldn't actually see from his vantage point, but one he almost felt like he was in.

The months prior were spent planning. It was no secret in the high-class society he held court with that EnviroMark had made the new fuel. The members of their cabinet boasted endlessly, small hints that, when put together, only meant that they had come up with something amazing. They weren't a rival company, not at all, but an amazing fuse to the powder keg. All it had taken after that was to find a suitable lighter and watch the fireworks. The fireworks weren't his focus as stated, though. He was there to watch the spectators. He was the watcher of the actors and the actors were doing everything right thus far.

Gabe had learned early that what he was capable of doing should not be flaunted. His father knew, his mother didn't. His sister didn't either, but he hadn't touched her mind in a long time. That was his kind way of saying breaking and entering on a psychic level-- he touched people. However, over the years he realized that that wasn't entirely true. He wasn't a muse, but a siren-- a herald of death to many. The tests, given at the age of ten for most, thirteen for him, were designed to determine if a child was gifted. There were rigorous tests, a wide range, but Gabe was smart. That was what the force gave him. No, not smart. He was brilliant. Brilliant and cunning and that made him strike out on every test. It wasn't like it had been impossible to beat when many powers hadn't been documented up to that point.

Brilliant, cunning, and sinister summed up Gabe's personality. He was ruthless and though it didn't show while he smiled and joked, acted pleasantly toward his peers and subordinates, he still really enjoyed a massacre. However, a massacre for the sake of a massacre had lost its flavor years ago. The power he held both socially and sub rosa made a massacre easy. What Gabe wanted, for once in his life, was a challenge.

The fire in the distance, fireworks to many, was actually a beacon. He wondered who would be drawn to it.

The plan was simple: several small incendiary bombs placed in precise locations to maximize the destruction. Gabe waited, made sure the tanks of the new fuel were full, and then sent in his agents. Agents was a lose term, since they were certainly not agents of their actions. They were merely mental extensions of him, acting out his will and nothing else. They made the bombs, unbeknownst even to themselves. They planted them and they killed all the in the warehouse. Only then, when they were safely away and the deed done, were the repressed memories allowed to come to the surface. They knew every gross detail of what they had done, and they would usually end up in a hospital somewhere for the rest of their lives, suffering through their misery. Many, Gabe knew, were good to some point. They just weren't strong enough to counter him. No one was it seemed.

Gabe made sure that they had no memories of him. Usually he met an agent by accident, a chance meeting in another facet of his life. He would take them then and keep the slightest hold on them, spiking when it was convenient. They would remember making the bombs, planting them, but the only thing Gabe purposely implanted in them was the knowledge that out there, somewhere, was a Mastermind that wasn't registered. That was the only breadcrumb that he would leave. It wasn't for the cops, it was for the Heroes; it was for those that decided to use their powers for good. Despite his fortune, his success, his wondrous life, Gabe was missing the most important thing. He was missing a nemesis.

Forty-five minutes before the explosion, Gabe had sat in his limo not far from the scene. He watched through the eyes of his agents as they moved, like mice in a maze, executing his plan. Steve Downie, his henchman, employed only to work with him during his plans, leaned back from the driver's seat and asked for the fifteenth time what had been happening. Downie was all brawn, no brains; prone to violent shifts in attitude and a mouth that would get lesser men's teeth punched in. His uses were limited. Though he was tough, he was easily controlled, even without Gabe's powers. He had all the right makings for an assistant, though Gabe often doubted that he was evil at heart. He was simply right for the job, and trustworthy to a fault. For the fifteenth time Gabe had told him to shut up, and they returned to silence once again. He directed the two men inside the building, gave all the proper access codes, and had them set the charges. He then walked them from the building, calm and cool, until they were several blocks away. That was when he dropped his domineering hold. He didn't free them entirely, though.

Gabe sat back with a huff and a soft grin, pleased with himself and with the months that had gone into the plan. There was no way that he could be thwarted, and he wasn't. He watched the explosion with muted pride, the small flame of joy over the destruction and death still there. He stepped out of the limo and Steve joined him, both watching the fire burn wild, hot, and unforgiving. He could imagine the screams and took satisfaction in them.

"Hey, we've got company," Downie said, interrupting Gabe's thoughts as he gestured up toward the sky. A man was there, flying over the scene. Gabe could see him from the eyes of one of his mental hostages, and recognized him from the many commercials he appeared in. He was an ambulance chaser, a Hero in name alone, unwarranted credit snatched from the deserving Heroes. There was no way that he could enter the inferno since his powers of flight alone were well documented. He had no ability to survive the heat. Gabe groaned and relaxed. It was easy to overtake him, the Hero that was certainly in the wrong place at the wrong time. His mind fell like a body to great swells as Gabe took control and dive-bombed the pathetic Hero into the fire. Downie watched and let out a long whistle, hands sliding into his pockets as a grin formed lopsidedly on his face.

"Alright, you could had a little more fun with that, but you get a ten for dramatic."

"Just hope thousands mourn the death of Flyboy. And may that terrible pseudonym die with him. Just as painfully." Gabe wasn't looking for any old pathetic Hero to stand against him. What he wanted was someone worthy of the title, someone that would tirelessly fight the tirade of a hidden enemy. He didn't need a poser pretending he could stand up to a horror they knew nothing about.

That had been the only Hero he had seen that night and he was sure, in the morning, when they could enter the building, they would find nothing. The only hint they would have that Flyboy was dead would be his absence from the public stage. Gabe slowly released the hold he had on the men completely. They would turn themselves in and the fiasco would start again. Gabe was no closer to what he wanted. There would just be more of a body count and no Hero opposing him.

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Next: Part 2

A bit about me


  • 26 year old female from Buffalo
  • Bachelors in philosophy


      Disclaimer: All stories posted here are a work of fiction! In no means am I making any money off of these, and in no way is any offense meant towards those involved in the story.
      At the request of those written into the stories these stories will be removed, and a formal apology will be issued.

      -Z4RF3 (The Author)

      Until then, fuck you homophobes, and enjoy, you lovers of slash! : D
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