The Evil Lair ((Closed))

On This Day, the city will call out his name. They will cry out in anger. They will curse him, and spit towards the void he has left. Because today, the victor shall be know as:


The Onyx!


The evil genius bested the city’s great heros. He circumvented the weak police force. He subdued the museum’s pathetic security forces. Most impressively, he pulled off his greatest of great heists right next to the unsuspecting and unprepared Silver Wing.


Ah yes, The Onyx’s arch nemisis, Silver Wing. So beloved by the towns folk for his ability to … fly around and beat people up. Flying. What kind of superpower is that really? No one says, “hey, that pigeon, he sure has super powers.” Seriously, just because a guy can strap on a glider to his back doesn’t mean he should be allowed to bully around other people and get a handshake from the governor for doing so. Guys like that are the reasons why they invented football, so they can pick on people their own size. Not that the Onyx is small or weak or …


You know, that’s not the point.


The point is The Onyx has won the day!.


It was quite easy, at least for one with the mechanical skills and the deviancy of The Onyx. The science museum celebrated a new wing with an elaborate ceremony (it’s actually a pretty cool part of the museum if you ever want to go; it has this flume that demonstrates the effect on erosion using sand and flowing water you get to play with, and there is a neat section that breaks down different ways your brain reacts to optical illusions, and they put in a new Tesla coil that can create sparks equivalent to bolts of lighting, it’s all quite neat … erm … if you are Not Evil that is). In order to show how weak and defenceless this city is, The Onyx infiltrated this little gala and stole that which the Silver Wing holds most dear … his Girlfriend Dr. Katrina Kane.


Being the incredible genius he is, The Onyx just used the abandoned rail tunnel under the museum to drive his great coring machine under the exact spot where Dr. Kane would be standing, cut a hole in the floor, and let her drop down into her cell where with a quick escape down the rails would bring her back to his secret lair.


Of course, by ‘secret lair’ it really means the bungalow house in the western suburbs that Murray Black got for a pretty good price right out of college. It had everything he wanted from a place; three bedrooms, two baths, large kitchen, a place for his computers and tv room, a basement that he could turn into his building and working area (not to mention a sectioned off area down there for the *cough* special private gadgets), tall privacy fence, a large garage where he can keep things like the Onxymobile, the Onyxcycle, and if had room to expand in case he wanted to build an Onyxcopter. Oh … and a pool & hot tub cause … you know … in case he ever brought home a girlfriend.


Arriving back at the OnyxLair (or Casa de Onyx … Oooo or Hasecenda De La Onyx!!! … no no, OnyxLair sounds way more sinster, yeah let’s go with OnyxLair) … Anyway, arriving back at the OnyxLair, The Onyx stepped forth from his OnyxCart and prepared to bring forth his prize. He wanted this moment to be profound and intimidating, so he wore his costume meant for show. It was a black bodysuit with black slacks, and black cape. His top was accented along the shoulders to make him look stronger and tougher. Somewhat necessary, since Murray Black was a pretty stringy looking guy of six foot. He wore a black mask that looked like a bandana wrapped around his forehead with eye holes to see; it left his red hair cut short and sleek free, but it seemed a darker red just by all the black he wore. To him, it made The Onyx look like the physical force that matches his mental force, It looked fierce. In fact, the only part of his costume that wasn’t black was the silver forever O blazen across his chest.

Ready to meet his prisoner, he opened the door to the OnyxCart and bellowed: “Welcome, to you’re Doom.”

Not again. This whole abduction business was getting BORING and tedious. Katrina wondered whether it was Silverwing again, trying to be more assertive to inject a bit of zest into their otherwise boring lovelife or whether this was yet another externally strong superhero with mommy issues who "just wanted to talk".

As Silverwing's official girlfriend and renowned shrink to the Superhero and other elite community, quite a few of her clients had taken to "abducting" her to maintain their secret identity only to give themselves away through simple mistakes within the first five minutes of talking to her. They might all be great at dealing with giant evil robots and cat-stroking super-villains, yet when it came to their emotional life most of these guys were beyond lost. Katrina should really up her prices again and include a "no abduction policy" on her website in the terms and conditions.

Dr. Katrina Kane had gotten a better glimpse behind the eternally virtuous, ever strong hero facade of too many public figures not to be a little jaded. Deep inside most of them were lonely, often feeling overwhelmed by the burden of responsibility that their position and their powers brought. Since her relationship with Silverwing, she had stopped believing in heros or knights in shining armor. Most of them were just little boys or girls trapped in an adult's body. Katrina had wanted to break it off with the "Wingster", as he liked to call himself (a very good reason to break it off with him actually in itself), many times and yet she had been a sucker for those blue eyes and the romantic Clark Kent/ Lois Lane flying moments. How had Lois managed or had Clark been a little bit more mature as an alien version of the male species?

Thinking about the way this abduction had gone down, it seemed less and less likely that Silverwing had been involved. He was more brawn than brow, enjoying a more direct approach. This plan however spoke of a being that at least had some capacity to think and plan. Yes, she could easily name at least 5 aspects where he could have made the abduction more elegant or efficient, however for a superhero it wasn't actually terrible.

The floor had simply imploded at the museum gala, delivering her right into his getaway vehicle where she had promptly been blindfolded and bound. The drive hadnt been very long and she could tell he had only double backed a couple of times, even with her eyes closed. Her overly logical brain told her she was in the suburbs, west of the city from the sounds the road had made. She had felt some of the uneven surface of Highway 39, which led directly West. From the sounds, she was close to the sea in a smaller village.

The car stopped and her captor, who had thus far been quiet, pulled her out of the low and streamlined vehicle, still blindfolded. They seemed to be in a garage now, suggesting a traditional bungalow or residential building. What an amateur. Was he seriously taking him to his home? Wow. At least it would be easy to track him down afterwards should she need to.

"Welcome to your doom", his even voice said, trying to sound menacing as he pulled off her blindfold, leaving her tied for now. Was he fucking serious?
Katrina looked around, seeing the incredibly ordinary looking bungalow, tastefully but simply furnished, showing the hand of an introverted geeky type.

The fire red hair peaking through his headband should make it easy to identify him. She noticed the black outfit with the large silver O on it. Was this this Opal guy that Silverwing kept going on about? Some evil supergenius or other? Maybe he was ready to grow up and make a change for the better.

"Is that seriously the best line you could come up with", she asked, rolling her eyes at him, disappointingly unimpressed at his bravado.

"It seems you have taken me to your home in suburbia. I imagine you want to talk about your psychological issues? Let me save you some time. The way you've conducted this crime shows you are likely a little obsessive compulsive with a pathological need for attention, which likely has been missing in your early years. Mother likely emotionally distant and overcritical, am I right", she asked almost bored.

"I charge $250 per hour, no concessions. If you untie me, maybe we can get on with the session", she added, noticing the surprise on his face. Had she been off with her assessment? Improbable. She listened intently at his response, which would tell her much about who she was dealing with.

Murray was aghast … That is, The Onyx was Aghast. The grand reveal should have left her frighten, in shock, or at a minimum confused. Instead, it left her … snarky. He tried to have a witty comeback to her first impression, but then she laid in onto some kind of analysis of him. The things she said about him, about pathological needs, about his mother, none of it was true … none of it … not at all.


“How … there isn’t a … this is the suburbs its, the …” he fumbled as he tried to think of the right thing to say. “You need to listen to me, this is your Doom. Doom!” He repeated the last word, part of the phrase he practiced for the grand reveal, as if she just didn’t hear him. “I said, Your Doom.” Each time he repeated it, it was thinner and less convincing.


He turned away from her, subconsciously avoiding eye contact with the woman who seemed intent on analyzing him. He took a deep breath and stated. “This is the Onxylair.” He gathered some of his bravado back in just saying the word to someone for the first time ever. Onxylair. He spun and pointed at the prisoner. “You are in the clutches of The Onxy, and until your weak minded hero yields to my demands you will remain within … umm … my clutches … still.”


He should have practiced that speech a little more.


The lights were off in the main room of his house, except for a single flood light intended to enhance his presence and to confuse his captor. Yet even in the darkness of the periphery of the room, he could see the rug by the entry where he carried her in was flipped up … and was definitely a tripping hazard. Definitely a tripping hazard, he had to take care of it. He scuffled quickly over to it, and kicked it until it laid flat. While doing so, he tried to command, “Fear this now, as if your hero delays your end will happen in the Onxylair!”

"My ears are not the problem here", Katrina said calmly, raising an eyebrow to let him know how ridiculous this was. "Clutches? You are calling your fine boned, smmoth hands, which indicate you have never done manual labour, Clutches", she couldnt help a chuckle escape her lips at that.

Him going to straighten the carpet only proved her initial theory. He was a mess.

"So you are some kind of supervillain? what do they teach you nowadays? Is that the best you've got intimidation wise?", she shook her head. "I can see why you would need my services. Mother emasculated you as well, right? Can't quite find your balls with another woman, always concerned what others might think, questioning yourself constantly? Intimidation is an art", she added, her body posture changing as she was growing taller, standing straighter, the confidence radiating from her in almost palpable waves as she walked towards him until she stood only an inch away from him.

Her face came to his ears as she whispered: "That sweet little body of yours looks like it can't withstand very much. Displeasing me will have dire consequences, so I'd advise you to comply with my wishes, unless you want to learn the true meaning of fear and agony. You are in my world now princess, and here I rule absolutely. Do you understand", she asked challengingly, modelling to him how intimidation could work done properly. "Welcome to your doom, princess, if you are a very good girl, you might grow to like it here, but resist me and this will become your place of supreme torture", she hissed before stepping back to view his response.

If she was ever abducted for real by an evil genius, that's what she would have wanted him to say to get her instantly wet and prepped for compliance.

"I work better with my hands untied and by the looks of it, we have much work to do here", Katrina stated matter of factly, here eyes meeting his directly.

Murray stood on shaky legs. His mouth gaped slightly. His face felt hot. His brown eyes stared back at her. That little description she gave was sultry, seductive, nearly erotic. It was the way he wanted to speak to a captive, the way he wanted to let her know he was in control. Yet it was she saying it, she was the one controlling it. And it was … incredible.

‘Get a hold of yourself, Murray.” He told himself as he pulled away from the captive. He stomped quickly over to a side table.

“I will … maybe, if you behave … loosen your bonds. But not until your little boyfriend gets the message I am serious.”

He tried to sound more seirious too, spinning in his spot, his poorly made cape wrapping around his neck. “And I am serious too. Hear me? I can kill you, you know. Kill you at any time.” Her words swirled around his head and he let drop in a slightly darker tone, “Princess.”

He grabbed the Onxyphone from the table and walked on his shaky legs to her side. He lifted it up opening up the camera app. “Hold still and … ummm .. .try not to smile.”

He took the snap and quickly started working on an e-mail, but had to stop. “Ummm .. do you know his address? I kinda … don’t have it … for the ransom letter you know.”

She could see the flush of his cheek. Did her little speech arouse him?

"I will maybe if you behave loosen your bonds", he had said trying to sound impressive. His earlier arousal and his slight vulnerability brought out another side of her. She wanted to toy with him, just like a cat enjoyed swatting at a lost little mouse.

"And how exactly would you want me to behave, Onyx. How could I be a good girl for you", she whispered huskily, her eyelashes fluttering as she was testing the extent of his innocence. Would he really be susceptible to her little act? At the very least she would likely see him squirm a little more, entertaining in its own right and certainly something to pass the time of her "capture".

"Why ever would you want to kill me? Are you really so heartless and ungentlemanly to try and scare an innocent helpless woman such as myself", she mocked with a straight face, fluttering her lashes a little more.

She looked sultry for the picture he took and barely suppressed a smile at his next question.
"He is not very techie. I dont believe he uses email. Maybe the only guy who still uses snail mail", Katrina explained with a shrug.

"I am sure you dont really want to hurt me. Why not just let me go and we'll just forget about this little incident, shall we", she said with a sweet smile as she stepped closer again, invading his space with her fragrant presence.

"So, what now, Onyx", she asked him softly, wondering if he could really be innocent enough to buy her little act.

“Doesn’t use email?” He flushed over red. The anger and frustration building in him as this plan keeps finding more pratfalls and problems with each passing minute. “How does he … I mean … is that even possible?”

He paced around the room banging on his tablet, trying hard not to look at the captive, who’s words are getting thru to him, and tapping on button in his head like morse code on a telegraph. “If I … to the TV news, thats who will …” He bangs out a few notes, and address, and tries to shoot something off. “If they read it that is … I mean … How does anyone else …”

She was close to him again, and she nearly whispered "I am sure you dont really want to hurt me. Why not just let me go and we'll just forget about this little incident, shall we",

He felt his head tip to the side, felt the heat of her breath near his air, moreso the heat of her own body within reach. He felt himself getting lost in that space, and the daring she had to invade what made him so uncomfortably angry, yet unable to shift away.

"So, what now, Onyx"

And he broke his trance, stepping away quickly, and trying to shake his head.

“No … nothing. None of it.” He paced around the room. “No letting you go. Not now. You will just go back to town and then its like you said, nothing happens. Except … EXCEPT … he wins.”

His face turned nearly beet red, and he spun around to face her. Nearly a different person, all that anger was now built up, all ready to fire out, and he spouted like he spouted in his head when raged against the world.

“He wins all the time. He sees the world to be not the way he likes, so he goes to those things and he pounds it and beats it until he wins. Well, he isn’t always right. He isn’t perfect. It’s not fair that he wins all the time. So not this time. This time I win. This time I get what I want. This time instead of being ignored, or forgotten, or shoved aside … I will win.”

By the time he finished speaking, he realized he was directly in front of her. His hands gripping her shoudlers, standing over her, and holding her firm to look straight into his eyes. As he realized the position he was in, he looked down at her body so close to his, and became fixated on the curves hidden under her clothes. The strength and the fury inside of him was cooling but he had enough to let out one last line before it turned to a squeak.

“So, no, you can’t leave. Not until I win what I want.”

His sudden fire was unexpected. When he spoke with passion, he almost seemed to forget his geeky awkwardness and instead he suddenly appeared very masculine, invading her space this time.

He was close, his face flushed, her breasts almost touching his torso as she had to look up into his eyes. Katrina couldnt help the flush of arousal travelling from her crotch straight to her cheeks, betraying her with the soft pink hue of desire, especially as his eyes travelled along the curves of her body.

She suddenly felt all woman, vulnerable, at the mercy of a real man and the thought was undeniably arousing to the otherwise so in control Doctor.

"And what is it that you want to win", she whispered hoarsely, this time not needing to fake the trace of vulnerable arousal that laced every word.

"And how am I going to serve your plans", she added, the word serve bringing a shudder to her body, making her knees go ever so slightly soft, causing her to gently melt against Onyx's body. He was not unattractive when his fire was roused. Not without charm at all.

There was something in her voice that etched into Murray’s mind. Deep down in his gut. Deep down further on his body while he was at it.

Suddenly, he realized how close he was to her, how the way her hot breath flashed across his face, ticked at his mind. How the rise and fall of her chest seemed just on the verge of touching his own. She was on the verge of melting into him, and he was about to pull her closer, and …

… and …

Holy shit, this was not what he meant to do.

He released her from his grip, spun away, and slipped quickly towards the wall; doing what he could to hide the rising need in his loins.

He coughed, tried to capture his senses again, and gave his plans. “You,” he stared with a squeak. “You will serve my plans … by being bait.”

Murray shifted around the room until he reached his tablet, and started banging some things out on it.

“He either pays your ransom and feeds my war chest, or he falls into my trap and will be extinguished from this damned city. Either way … You all are doomed.”

He banged a few more keys out on the tablet, and started getting frustrated. “Why are you… send … come on send … damn WiFi. I payed for the fucking upgrade on the ...” A woosh of a noise on the device and his demands were on the way to the media. “So now … Done!”

He turned to look at her, but was too embarrassed with how he almost lost control mintues before and turned back away. “Umm … are you hungry? I could go for pizza.”