Chapter 433: Good Neighbours

Chapter 433: Good Neighbours

I probably should have been worried about what was happening next door but I was too focused on my own shit.

Not that it was hard to figure out why someone who wanted to have a word with me would do it via my neighbour instead of waiting for me inside my own place.

Archie was watching me carefully. My flat was probably bugged or had cameras installed or something.

If they whoever they were wanted a word without letting Archie know, they would need to do it in a lateral fashion.

Slip in next door disguised as a pizza delivery guy or whatever, and then wait for me to come home so they could pull me aside without giving themselves away.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

The only problem with their plan was that it relied on me giving a fuck about Tony.

I mean, he was a nice enough bloke. I wouldnt want anything bad to happen to him, just like I wouldnt want anything bad to happen to anyone. But since when has anyone cared about what I wanted?

People die all over the world all the time without anyone consulting me on the matter. I didnt see what difference it made if tragedies occurred halfway around the world or on the other side of my partition wall.

That kind of postcode empathy is the epitome of bollocks. You either give a shit or you dont. And I didnt.

Of course, if were talking about family or close friends, then sure, you have every right to be affected if they are suffering in some way.

But if you get all bent out of shape over someone you dont really know, they just live near you, then youre just a pretentious muppet who probably writes for the Daily Mail. Dude, shes dead, and you never even met her. Stop playing Candle in the Wind on repeat and let it go.

Magic. That was where my head was at.

I locked my front door and then got a chair from the kitchen and wedged it up against the door handle for extra security. I didnt want to be disturbed by whoever had Tony by the throat, and I didnt want to be disturbed by Tony begging for help.

Having said that, its still difficult to not feel some sort of desire to prevent the suffering of others when its happening right in front of you. Nobody likes to see that sort of thing, especially when youre as squeamish as me.

Which is why its important to remember that people cant make you feel bad (or guilty or ashamed) if you cant see or hear them.

Yes, it would be a terrible dilemma if the terrorists made demands that would lead to the deaths of innocents if they were refused, but it becomes a much easier decision to not negotiate with them when you have no idea what the terrorists want or who the hostages are.

Once I was in my flat with no one to bother me, I was able to relax and think about how best to reactivate the supernatural abilities that would enable me to start living the life of a superpowered arsehole.

Obviously, I wasnt going to use my powers for the good of mankind. Mankind not only didnt deserve it, it would never accept it.

Can you imagine the fuckery that would ensue if someone genuinely tried to be a superhero irl?

The media, the public, the government they would all make that persons life a living hell, right up the moment they sliced him open as they tried to obtain that power for themselves. In the name of the greater good or national security or a BBC documentary narrated by David Attenborough.

It wouldnt be like in the movies, where the costumed hero works from the shadows with the help of a noble cop and an incorruptible politician. Batman being real had a far higher chance of being true than either of those two existing.

Nope. A complete asshat who used his powers to deliberately make others feel weak and inferior was the only way youd ever get any time to yourself.

I sat cross-legged on my bed and tried to reconnect with the source of magic that was inside of me through the power of meditation. I also tried yoga and breathing funny until I felt lightheaded. I may have got distracted by Youtube when I researched the best ways to lose all sense of self.

Even though I had done this once before, it had been difficult. Wanting it, being desperate for it, putting my all into the effort, none of that had worked.

In the end, it had taken a complete lack of self-belief and an expectation of failure before I finally succeeded in producing that first flame on my finger.

Sometimes, you have to give up completely before you can access the real you.

Ah yes, I see. He lowered the knife as he started to see us as accomplices in some kind of joint subterfuge. You need to convince Larwood.

Thats right, I said. But it has to be convincing. He has ways of knowing the truth. This was guesswork on my part, but it felt plausible.

My partner in crime nodded his head.

Yes. I understand. He raised the knife and stabbed Tony in the side of his large stomach, which came as a surprise to Tony who opened his mouth to scream.

His stabber immediately put a gloved hand over Tonys mouth to stifle the scream and stabbed him again, all the while facing me. But I couldnt see his face under the hood and the whole performance was a little lacklustre.

No, thats not really working. It was sort of shocking, but there wasnt any blood for some reason, and the truth was, the attack lacked any real drama. Tony just wasnt selling it, he just went a bit limp.

The guy was clearly a psycho but this felt like it was moving in the right direction. And once I got my powers, Id be able to heal Tony, so it wasnt like I was on board the psychopathic express with him.

I need something to get my blood racing, you know? Heart thumping, cold sweats, hairs standing on end. Verifiable reactions.

I could cut the skin off his face, my new buddy offered.

Tony took a sharp inhale of breath and bent over like he was about to pass out. The man let him lower himself to his knees but held onto his mouth.

No, that doesnt sound like it would work. Hurting him wont be enough.

But he is your friend.

Hmm, no, I wouldnt say friend.

Youve lived next door to him for years.

Its really quite hard to explain to a non-Londoner what its like living here. I dont want to come across like some elitist snob, but you cant really appreciate just how few fucks are given here per capita unless you spend some time here not getting to know the locals.

While me and the psycho were chatting, Tony took this opportunity to grab a drill from somewhere and plunge it into the mans head.

I didnt see much as they both rolled around on the floor, but there was a dreadful noise as metal hit bone, and a weird gurgle from inside the mans hood. He spasmed as Tony went ham on the DIY front.

Tony turned towards me, drill whirring in his hand, eyes wild and crazy. You How could you? He did things to me... He looked very distraught and not a little unhinged.

Now, Tony, calm down. I can explain.

Could I? Probably not to anyones satisfaction, but this was what you said to a deranged person wielding a drill.

He started to come towards me, the drill held like a gun, whirring and spraying blood around. He looked ready to use it on me.

And then he stopped.

Wha? he managed to say, the rage and madness in his eyes replaced by confusion.

He was looking at my waist. No, it was my hands. I looked down to find they were slightly on fire.

Oh my god, it worked, I said, holding up my hands which were covered with blue flames. Thank you, Tony, thank you.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and he screamed as I accidentally set his clothes on fire.