How to Kill a Superhero/Cassowary

Vale was always a quieter city in New York State, but, like much of the state, had superheroes and supervillains. Every city of reasonable size had at least one of the two, and the other would always follow. Vale's resident hero was Cassowary; a member of the AoH (Alliance of Heroes) who worked alone, known for his super-strong legs and the razor-sharp claws on the sides of his hands and feet that gave him his namesake and the inspiration for his avian costume. On the other hand, there was Vale's villain. He was there first, an anarchist inventor by the name of Visionary. He had the ability to look at an object, and tell what a possible next version of that object would be in the future, like telegrams being replaced with telephones, and then being able to invent it with common household objects. He first struck terror in 2008 with his homemade death ray made from aluminum foil and batteries at a rally. Nobody took him seriously, which resulted in 12 wounded and one dead. Six months later, as Visionary caused havoc in the name of 'freedom from the law', Cassowary appeared. He was thought to be an AoH trainee who had finally graduated, and this was his assigned city. Cassowary was able to save the mayor of Vale, and since then, has intervened in every scheme Visionary has put forth.

Oh, and Cassowary's also a fucking pedophile stalker rapist(need proof on this last bit, only a handful of internet rumors, most non-credible). Various forums have pictures of him creeping around Vale Public High School, taking photos of teenage girls, and following them around by rooftop. While the AoH would never take it seriously, bad publicity, the photos are authentic. Cassowary may be the only person who really puts up with Visionary, who is actually pretty pathetic, but he's still scum himself, and he needs to be taken care of.

And that's where I come in.

Who am I, you ask? Am I a hero? Nope. Villain? Nope. And I'm sure as fucking hell not a civilian. I don't really have a label. The AoH calls me 'Terrorist', 'Serial Killer', 'Menace'. I call myself a shitty person in a world full of shitty people like me, who gets rid of shitty people who are being protected by shitty organizations. I just tend to do it violently, publicly, with a baseball bat. Oh, and without any superpowers. Just training. But, that's not the story I'm here to get into about.

I'm here to talk about how I killed Cassowary. Yup, already took care of him, sorry if I mislead you. It was pretty fun, pretty gory, and I'm going to share the tale with you.

I was in the parking lot of Vale Public High School when the bells rang. A swarm of teenagers rushed through the gates, ready to get home to eat or sleep or fuck or whatever teenagers do. I was leaning against the trunk of an old sedan that I'm pretty sure was abandoned. Hat choice today was an old straw boater, from the early 20th century. From the guy I bought it from, belonged to an FBI agent. Black stripe in the center, tilted forward over my long-ass black hippy hair. I'm fair-skinned, don't know if I'm handsome or not, don't care, got green eyes, normal shit. The thing that usually draws people to me is the stitches.

You see, I have a pair of scars, one on each side of my lips. Doesn't really interfere with talking or chewing or anything. And they're stitched up. I never removed the stitches, I just stitched it more instead. They're a long story, and I'm not getting into them, but they're basically how people identify me. I don't give a flying fuck about that, it makes people either over-exaggerate or under-exaggerate my capabilities and I fucking love it.

For clothes, eh, today wasn't really a fancy day. Kill wasn't that big, small town, casual clothes. A t-shirt with a logo from some band I never heard of was my top, and a pair of blue jeans was my bottom. Sneakers for shoes. No gloves or any of that, fucks up your grip. Fancy outfits really just slow you do nine times out of ten. Gloves get trapped in machinery, tear your fucking hand off. I know, I caused it to happen to Magic Man. Fancy white gloves were stained with red when I was done.

Oh, wait, I'm getting off track. Back to the story of how I murdered Cassowary, shall we?

I was keeping a good eye out for some number of time that really doesn't matter, until I saw some sort of something on a nearby rooftop. Couldn't make out the figure, but it was a good enough sign that it was go time. I reached under the sedan, pulled out a wooden baseball bat, and moved towards the building, tapping the bat to the ground in some sort of rhythm as I walked. I figured I had a few minutes to get to the top before Cassowary jumped to continue stalking whatever girl he had his eye on, and I could totally make it. Went up a flight of stairs, blahblahblah, reached the roof.

Now, before I explain what happened when I reached the roof, let me talk about capabilities here. Let's start with me: I'm 6'2, excuse me that's personal pounds, and can break skulls with my fist if I care enough to try. I am armed with a nice wooden baseball bat, an ambition to beat this guy to death ruthlessly, and a very large track record in doing that to other people.

Now, Cassowary. Suit, I have no fucking idea what it's made of, but it's pretty nice. Wind doesn't mess with it, stretchy enough for kicking, and according to rumors, bulletproof. But I don't use guns unless I have to, so I didn't actually get to test that rumor. He carries no weapons, since his are organic; on the sides of his hands and feet are razor sharp talons, sharp enough to cut through steel and also therefore bone and people. Guy knows capoeira, and his legs are super strong. If the talons don't cut through you, the kicks will shatter your bones.

So, obviously, you'd assume he has the advantage. He'd assume he has the advantage. That's why he has the disadvantage.

I have made myself known for being able to beat up superheroes and villains in mundane ways, and it works. You see, powers work a certain way. You can be resistant or immune to one thing, but you can't be resistant and immune to all things. You could be bullet proof, but a knife could take you out. Vice versa. And when one part of your body is extremely strong specifically, the others will be average; something that can be exploited. Now, back to the story!

So, I saw the guy from behind as I got to the roof. Suit in yellow, gray, and blue, and he has some sort of fucking hideous mohawk thing on the top of his head. I know cassowaries have shit like that, but you don't need it on your goddamn superhero costume. Face was unmasked except for around the eyes. Otherwise, costume covered his entire body, save small slits on his hands and feet for the talons to fit through nicely.

Now, he didn't notice me. So, I had to make him notice me. It's no fun to just bash him in the back of the head! So I kept tapping the baseball bat, in a very loud and obnoxious way, to get his attention. Eventually, he turned around. His face was first of bewilderment, before he grimaced. Yay, he recognized me! These stitches were good for something, and that was making things entertaining.

Normally, they'd speak at this point, call my name, tell me to surrender. But, you see, Cassowary was in the act of being a creeper, he was caught in it, and he knew exactly who I was. And I knew what his reaction would be.

So, I sidestepped as his left leg (or maybe his right) came lunging at me, talon first, a quick duck and slide forward as he planted it down and spun the other. I quickly leaped back to my feet, and jumped as soon as I did; narrowly missing yet another kick, and slammed the bottom of my bat backwards. He caught it with his hands, which I used to my advantage, doing some cool ninja thing I learned years ago to spin from the bat feet first into his side, yanking the bat out of his hands as I landed, before landing on the roof again, and quickly rotating in order to have him in my sights.

Cassowary was stunned backwards. No time to waste, I aimed my bat for his face. Obviously, he wouldn't let it hit, he has hand talons. And of course, I knew that.

So, as he went to slice my bat, I began curving the motion of it all over the place. Instead of a clean slice, he instead turned it from a blunt into a jagged instrument. Exactly what I wanted.

I quickly moved it upwards into his cheek; he was able to slice the handle in half, but the jagged edges punctured. He was stifling back a shout of pain, I could just see it, as the bat fell to the ground, and blood began to leak. He went to kick. I knew he was going to aim for my head, easy dodge, and then I jumped to avoid the second kick for my legs.

And I dashed forward, grabbing one of his arms. He swiped the other hand's talon towards me, and I ducked my head below, and then quickly back up, knocking his arm out of the way. Stunned him for sure. I don't think he was expecting me to be this reflexive, even though there's probably an entire dossier on how I work and how to handle me in the AoH records.

Now, it got fun. I moved one of my legs straight into one of his shins, and I hit hard. His legs were strong, but they felt pain just like any other ones. This gave me the timing I needed, as I moved his hand up into the cheek I cut, and carved upwards with his talon. He screamed like one of the girls he was stalking probably would. But, I wasn't done. I kept moving the talon upwards, using my other hand and both legs to stop the weak resistance from his other limbs. And I lifted the talon I had, and I jabbed it into his eye. The scream was painful. I kept pressing his hand further, and further, as blood began to leak out and onto my own hands (another reason I don't wear gloves), until the screaming ended abruptly. Talon was finally driven into his brain. I pulled the hand back out, and let his body fall to the rooftop.

But, I wasn't done. You see, besides collecting hats, I also collect souvenirs from my kills. Since Cassowary didn't have any fun toys, I needed something else. His mask was a piece of shit and also now bloody. So, let's get something unique yet also bloody. I reached into my back pocket, had a knife back there. And then, I moved it towards his hands, and cut the talons off. Just, THWICK. Slice them off by the skin, pocket them. And then I moved to the feet, same thing, THWICK. Souvenirs!

The screaming would have attracted attention, probably, so I bolted. Next day, death was reported. Visionary struck a small memorial made by fans, four injured, no deaths, destruction of all photos of Cassowary and shit at the memorial.

So, that's that. Not my best kill, but, it was fun.

That's how you kill a superhero.