Maddening (Cursed Superheroes #2)

“Thanks for reminding me.”


I restrain an exhausted sigh. “I’m still confused, though, over why her parents would lock her up? Her powers haven’t manifested yet. They shouldn’t have since we haven’t injected her with your blood yet.”

“They are the ones who got her cursed to begin with,” he says. “And, according to the sister, a Shadow Teller was present when the girl was cursed and warned the parents of what she would become. In fact, I think the girl herself believes she already possesses some terribly deathly touch.”

“So what? Just because some Shadow Teller told a prophecy of her become a Maddening one day, they locked her away in a cage for all of her life?” I don’t get upset or disgusted very often, but her story hits too close to home.

“Aw, does the professor of experiments actually have a heart?” Mockery dances in his tone.

“I’ve always had a heart. I just usually choose not to let it control me.” I thrum my fingers on the top of my desk, thinking. “Be careful with this mission, Caspian. If what you say is true… Then she probably hasn’t touched another human in a long time. Or interacted with many.”

“Yeah, so what? You act like that’s going to be a problem.”

“She might be hard to handle. She might freak out when you try to take her, or she might be happy about finally having contact with another. And we both know how you can react to an overly happy person.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve handled worse.”

“Just be careful, okay?” I practically beg. “And make sure to let the curse play through. Without it, this won’t work.”

“I understand what I’m supposed to do.” His annoyance grows. “I don’t need you to repeat it every time we talk.”

I internally sigh. “All right. But be careful and call me when you’re ready to bring her in.”

“Okay.” He hangs up.

I let out a sigh, hoping upon hoping everything goes smoothly. Because without my superhero Maddening, my team won’t be complete and the world could be doomed.





Chapter 2





I’m locked in a cage in a room hidden beneath an old Victorian house, a place I’ve called home for fifteen years. I’m not a prisoner. I choose to stay inside the iron bar cage, to protect the world from what I could become, at least according to my parents. And it’s something worse than death.

Despite the stories of me turning into an evil creature, I’m also a normal girl. Just one who’s been warned never to touch anyone. If I do, they won’t survive. I’m a killer of everything. Which is why I should be dead. If I had my choice, I would be. But after our parents passed away, I promised my older sister I’d stick around so she wouldn’t be left alone in the world.

Sometimes, though, I question my choice. Like today, which has been a maddeningly silent and lonely day.

Peering through the iron bars, I check the time and then the date on the calendar. Oh, would you look at that? Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday.

I sigh at the realization. Another year spent in a cage. How sad.

But my thoughts soon drift elsewhere the longer the empty silence ticks by. Where is my sister? She usually has visited me by now. Maybe she’s finally gotten sick of me. I wouldn’t blame her. We can’t do much except talk through the bars. No hanging out, watching movies, or painting our toenails. My sister does tell me stories of what she does with her friends, so I don’t feel completely isolated. At least that’s what I tell her. Really, her stories make me think too much about the experiences I’ll never get to live.

Maybe you should just give up. Perhaps your sister will understand.

“What do you think, Mr. Spider?” I ask the tiny black critter scurrying across the damp cement floor. “Do you think it’s time for me to go and take my venomous existence out of this world?”

The spider ceases the creeping and turns toward me. Hope sparkles inside me. Have I somehow attained the ability to speak to other venomous creatures?

“Do you understand?” I ask, gripping the bars of my cage. “What it feels like to be feared by all? To be unwanted?”

The spider stands in front of my cage for a split second before scurrying up the water stained wall.

“Lovely. Now I’m talking to spiders who clearly don’t want to listen to me.” I release the bars with a sigh, the water from the leaky shower head dripping onto my forehead. My father installed it in the roof above my cage so I could have a way to stay clean. I also have a toilet for… Well, you know. Other than a bed, some clothes, and personal hygiene items, that pretty much sums up my lovely iron bar palace.