Vice Bunker 21

Vice Bunker

Chapter 21

-VB-

When she finally calmed down, Taylor finally got ready to tell me what she wanted.

Honestly, if she asked me to just kill Sophia, then I would have done it in a heartbeat. Sophia Hess was a different kind of cancer compared to white supremacists and gangsters. Had she been allowed to rise to any level where accountability reached her less, then she would have been a menace using her power, both physical and authority, to crush whatever she saw as weak. Oh, she would have aimed it at criminals more often than not, but the “more often” should not exist in a system where heroes were supposed to be the face of justice.

In this new reality where justice came second to survival, keeping my girls happier was far higher on my list of priorities than a single cape.

As Taylor preferred my arms and hands over tentacles, my humanized arms and hands wrapped around her sweating nude body while she debated internally on her decision.

“Do you need help with your decision making?” I asked her, and she nodded without looking at me. “I’ll tell you then that your happiness - and that of your sister-wives - above a lot of things. Sophia Hess and her survival is not one of them.”

Taylor shivered. “So you’ll … kill her if I ask?” she asked me quietly, as if saying those words out loud would cause trouble.

Like hell it would cause trouble. I was the lord of this bunker.

“Yes,” I replied as my hands caressed her without them making sexual touches. Just a man holding a woman.

She leaned her head over her shoulder and pressed her head against my amorphous flesh.

“What if I want to make her suffer like she made me suffer?” she asked me.

“... By your definition or by hers?”

She looked up. “Would it matter?”

“Your definition of suffering would be a repetition of what you suffered or whatever nightmare scenario you can come up with.”

“... And hers?”

I leaned down with my mass, slowly covering more of her. She sighed in relief as she felt warm as more of me covered her.

“To be reminded of the very thing she hates. To be reduced to a prey,” I snarled and Taylor shivered.

“... Does it make me a villain if I like the way you just said that?” she asked me.

“No,” I scoffed. “In my bunker, there is no such thing as a villain.”

She snorted and kissed me.

“Okay. Do what you think will…” she stopped. She had this look on her face.

“Taylor?”

“... You know, I never got to be a hero,” she mumbled as she pulled more of myself on her. “Never got to go out and … get recognized.” I didn’t say anything and waited for her to finish.

“Of course, my lady.”

She giggled. Then she gave me a saucy smile as she spread her legs again, showing me her cum-dribbling pussy.

“Again? And this time, don’t stop until I knock out cold, Alan.”

-VB-

Sophia sat in this new cell.

And unlike her old one, there was electricity running all along the walls somehow. They didn’t even bother to put a shock collar on her like the PRT did because they didn’t need to.

This had to be the base of the big shot.

Yal’Manus.

The problem was that she didn’t know what to expect. The Nazis would have tried to hunt her down but fail. The ABB would have tried to hunt her down and fail. The PRT would give her a slap on the wrist for breaking their rules and making them look bad and fail to do anything, period.

Yal’Manus?

The PRT watched with what few cameras were active on the surface, and all of the Protectorate and Wards saw that Case-53 wasted a good tenth of the city just to deal with the Slaughterhouse Nine. Then they dealt with the Cannibals that came to take over his bunker as if two dozen capes was nothing but an afternoon stroll.

Like, what was she supposed to do against this guy?

“Hello, Shadow Stalker.”

She jolted. She whirled around her room but didn’t see anything like a speaker in this grey hellscape.

Worse, he sounded like he was right next to her, but there was no one else but her in the room.

“Tell me, Shadow Stalker… or should I say Sophia?”

She bit back her urge to snarl. This guy wasn’t like the spineless or the red-taped PRT and Protectorate. He got shit done, and she was his prisoner. She didn’t know what he might do and she wasn’t keen on finding out about it.

“Silent treatment, hmm? Then your punishment will be just that. Silence from the rest of us. Do try to hold out by your lonesome, hmm?”

And then silence.

That’s the last she heard from him or anyone else for the next month.