AAOOOSC! #10

That night in New York City, a major turning point is being presented in the League Leaders’ headquarters.

The grand doors of the League Leaders’ office swing open and their prized man, John, steps in.

He has a serious expression, not a satisfied one, yet not a frustrated one. His steps are filled with vengeance, filled with determination, like his eyes. In his arms, he bears a long object concealed underneath a black sheet of cloth. He is wearing his usual style of a collared, button-up, long-sleeved shirt with a sweater vest, slacks, and loafers. His hair is combed to aside; he looks like he is attempting to be ready for business.

Facing him deep in the room from behind an elegant desk are the three League Leaders themselves: Harry, Larry, and Gary. Well, most of the League Leaders are facing him; Gary is not, since he is in dreamland on his floating bed.

“Well, well, well,” Harry starts off with a sly expression. “Am I ever so glad to see you, Tavares.”

John stops in front of the desk, looming over them. “So am I.” He places the object on the desk’s surface. “I have achieved it.” He takes a step back with his hands clasped behind his back.

“The way to negate all the power players’ powers?”

John nods his head.

With a low chuckle, Harry reaches out to the cloth and swipes it away. Now lying in plain sight is a high-tech gun with a clear line on both of its sides from the end to the nozzle.

“It’s beautiful,” Harry purrs, tracing the designs of it with his hands. He gazes up at John. “And it works like an actual gun?”

John nods his head. “Yes.”

Larry stretches over to the gun and takes it with both hands. But then he begins to slip due to not having any support from his cane, so he is forced to toss it over to Harry to help himself up.

Harry easily activates it; the gun begins to hum as its designs glow purple; the clear line begins to fill with purple liquid, the negating liquid itself...the reason John has no powers.

It still hurts John every time the thought of him not being able to manipulate the weather and generate weather elements floats into his mind. Sure, he has a mission to destroy everyone else’s powers, but he never intended to do it to himself. But he must carry on: at least he still has the ability to create magnificent machines and captain an NHL hockey team.

John casts his eyes on the gun gripped in Harry’s hands. Harry looks like he just won the lottery with big, excited eyes and a massive, open grin on his aging face.

Harry turns to Larry. “Larry! Bring up the target!”

With his free hand, Larry whips out a remote control from one of the desk’s drawers and presses a button on it.

Immediately, a cardboard cut of all of the NHL’s power players ranging from GHP members to EHP members to neutral men, pops up next to the desk, facing Harry’s side.

Harry spins in his swivel chair, aims the gun at the large cutout, and pulls the trigger. A blast of purple energy emits from the gun and crashes into the cutout, burning a hole through Tuukka Rask's ear and hair and Steven Stamkos's chest.

John stares at the sight with a slightly horrified expression. Even though he is betraying all of the other supernatural NHLers, he still for some reason has pity for them. Probably because he was one himself.

Harry lets out a gleeful laugh as he spins back over to face John. “Oh, it’s wonderful!” He raises the gun in the air. “A masterpiece! What we’ve all been waiting for.” He places it down and looks up at John meaningfully. “Thank you, Tavares.”

John gazes back down at Harry and forces out a nod.

Harry leans back in his chair, clearly satisfied. “Now…” He picks up the gun and begins scrutinizing it. “...who should be our first target: the GHP, the EHP, or the neutral members?”

Larry leans over to Harry and whispers: “We should start with the GHP.”

Harry nods his head. “That’s a great idea…” He peers up at John with a malicious smirk. “And you can help us with that.”

John takes in a deep breath, becoming speechless due to the overwhelming guilt rising in him. He has gone too deep to escape from this predicament.

“So, Tavares, where are the GHP members, hm?” Harry drums his fingers on the desk’s surface.

Thoughts of options begin racing around in his mind: He can say he doesn’t know, but then that wouldn’t make sense because he should know since he’s “part” of the GHP. He can say he won’t tell them, but then that would make him go to the League Leaders’ bad side, which is the last thing he wants. Or he can tell them and they continue on with their plan. Beside, he already lost his powers, it’s not like as if the GHP would take him back if he betrays the League Leaders.

“Their whereabouts are in Ottawa,” John answers as sternly as possible. “Adjoining the NHL headquarters. We can circumnavigate there.” He pauses. “Through the medium of an aircraft.”

“Very well.” Harry rises to his feet slowly. He peers down at the other two members. “Shall we go?” He then turns to John with that same smirk.

Pushing away his guilt and attempting to not show his uneasiness, John nods his head in agreement.

Notes