0
Another one.
Again and again Mark heard that phrase. Another one. Yet another new villain set to take over the block, the city, the state, whatever their goal was. 
Usually the phrase was uttered with a sort of awed reverence, a fear of the unknown and the excitement of the battle that was sure to follow. No one ever actually got hurt, some buildings at most, because the hero always made sure of it. The villain would make some big gesture, blow up a building, maybe take a hostage, and the hero, their hero, would appear out of nowhere. There’d be posturing for the cameras, a confrontation, and the whole thing usually took less than an hour. 
It was routine but still, they felt awe for the pure display of physical or mental prowess that came with another one.
For Mark, when he heard that phrase, he didn’t feel awe, he felt annoyance. He felt the annoyance of cancelling meetings, rescheduling dates just so he could find time to don his uniform and take care of it without anyone suspecting his role.
“Another one, Mark.” His boss tossed a paper to the table in front of Mark, snapping the tiger back to attention. On the cover was a jackal dressed in black, shooting the camera a menacing grin. Did they seriously have a photoshoot? “Another one, can you believe it? Two in the same week! You missed the last one; maybe you won’t call out sick and get to see it this time!”
Mark doubted it. 


0
        The call finally came Tuesday afternoon, right in the middle of a meeting. He felt a twinge of annoyance spark deep inside him, but he forced it down as he turned off his pager. It would never do to feel annoyed; this was his real duty, it was to the people of the city and keeping them safe. 
        “Ah, sorry!” He apologized as he stood, awkwardly trying to back out of the meeting. “I, uh, scheduled another meeting for right now and I just,, I just realized, I’ll be… uh, be sure to update me!” Another damned lie told just as he rushed away, leaving everyone hanging. God, again. Mark wasn’t sure how he wasn’t fired.
        Mark rushed down the stairs, tearing away at his work clothes and assuming his superhero identity on the way. With each article of clothing he ripped away he became closer and closer to ‘Titanium Tiger’, protector of the city, hero to all. 
        He reached the outside and dashed away, using his speed to hightail it to the scene of the crime. His watch fed him information about the situation at supernatural speeds, but there wasn’t much new. Jackal, no name, taking over an unfinished skyscraper. No captives, no demands except to see him. 
        He sighed to himself as he slowed down, arriving on scene. The crowd parted as he arrived, praise to his name on their lips as he strode up to the tower. They were cheering him on, the camera was on him, but all he could think of was him missing more of his real life, his preferred life. He entered the building, trying not to look too down on the camera. 
        “I’m not the one coming for you - it’s the long arm of the law!” He bellowed as he climbed the stairs, looking valiant and brave for the camera. He knew it was cheesy but the crowd ate it up, and usually the villains did, too.
        This one… he heard a laugh in his mind. It didn’t echo down the exposed stairwell, no one in the crowd heard it. He heard the laugh in his mind.


1
        He stopped. His bare paw pads scuffed the concrete as he did, it was so sudden. He could hear the echo of his skin against the stone clearly over the din of the... there was no din. He looked over his shoulder. 
        
        There was nothing outside the tower.


        “Hello, Titanium Tiger.” It was the voice once again. It was masculine, not overly deep, but booming yet the same. Reverberating through his body. It sounded bored. 
        Mark glanced up, choosing not to answer. Whatever this… this villain had up his sleeves, he would attack it on his own time. It was obvious that he was dealing with something far beyond what he expected. This…. Jackal, this thing had gotten inside him, blocked all visual to the outside, all noise.
        The tiger’s eyes narrowed to slits. Was this barrier… mental, or physical? He closed his eyes, pushing out with his own powers. He could feel the cold expanse of the concrete walls like slabs of tombstone around him, extending far beyond their natural reach with the help of cold, steel beams. He could even feel the source of the voice at the very top, lounging on top of a throne made from plastic barrels. 
        Outside the confines of this tower, however, he felt nothing. The familiar connection to the city he usually felt in the back of his mind was gone, nothing there but old threads in need of severing. 
        It was mental then. A mental trick that essentially served as a physical barrier. If the barrier was actually physical, no matter what material, Mark knew he’d still be connected to everyone else. He assumed that the world could see and hear him, however, so he squared his shoulders, steadied his stance, and put on a brave face. He took one step onto the stairs and yawped, an almost electric shock slamming through his body. It took all his strength to push on through it - it was obviously his mysterious nemesis - but he managed, after some time, to push on indeed. 
It took almost twenty minutes for him to reach the top of the first staircase. The pain was excruciating, and he could still feel the shocks lingering through his body, but the second both feet were on the second floor the worst of the pain dissipated. He fell to the ground, panting and shaking. He refused to make a single sound of pain. The tiger reached for his mental powers, finding them strangely weak, and re-read the layout of the tower? Five more damn floors.
“Willing to talk, my tiger dear?” The voice asked, echoing through the room. 
Mark swore at himself for doing it, but he couldn’t risk much until he got to the jackal in the flesh. So he spoke. “My name is Titanium Tiger! You will address me by that name, cretin… and you will tell me by which name I might call you.”
“Oh-ho-ho, a strong man, are we? Titanium Tiger… super strength, speed, intelligence, sight, mind… my, you even have laser eyes and poison breath. A regular superman knockoff, aren’t you?” 
It was a second before the tiger could respond. “Congratulations, you can read a dossier.” He growled as he took a knee, slowly making his way back up. “Tell me your name.” 
“I’ve gone through many names, my tiger, hundreds even, so how could I know which one you’d like?”
Great. A smartass. Mark finally staggered to his feet and began towards the stairwell, but his feet stuttered to a stop as he remembered the pain which was sure to follow. “I want only your real name.”
A dismissive laugh wafted through the corridors of stairs.
“Finally, some progress from our tiger! You want my real name? I’m not the only one. Please, come on up; we’ll both get what we want.”
Was this nothing but a game for the twisted bastard up at the top? Mark gritted his teeth, staring at the stairs. He knew it was going to be pain, likely, just like last time. But there literally was no other way. Taking a second to build up some reserve, he took that first step onto the next stairwell. 


2
        The journey wasn’t nearly as hard as the last one. He’d expected excruciating pain, or at least some sort of difficulty that increased for each stair he went up. What he got was hard, yes, but… it seemed to get easier with every step he took. It was like moving through peanut butter. It was hard, yes, but doable, and felt very, very strange.
        Soon enough he stepped foot into the next room. It was dark, but he could see the next stairwell silhouetted by a dim exit light. 
        “Tell me your name!” He demanded to the empty room, assuming that whoever was behind this would be listening. He was right.
        “Your name is… Mark.” The tiger’s blood ran cold. How could he have known that? “Mark, I’m glad to finally get to know the real you. Your name, at least. A name… the first step to really getting to know a person.”
        Mark steeled himself. Whoever this was, they had powers far more advanced than his. He had to outsmart him, had to make sure he never got anything useful. 
        “Enough with the monologue.” Mark said, sounding braver than he felt. “Tell me your name! If names are required to-”
        The voice cut him off. “Call me Lynch.”
        Mark was puzzled. Lynch? What kind of name was that? Lynch preempted his question. “It’s my name, thank you very much, and I’m quite fond of it. I have more to it, of course, but it changes based on my need. Your name, however, does not, Mark.”
        Mark felt naked without his moniker protecting him. He still had his suit, that tight green latex clinging to his every curve, but that mental barrier that his superhero name gave him… it was gone.
        “Mark.” Mark cringed, hearing his name again. He couldn’t let Lynch know his misgivings. Had to occupy him while he figured out a way out of this. “Mark, why are you here?”
        “Isn’t the answer obvious?” Mark answered as he made his way into the room. Despite his superhuman vision, he couldn’t see a thing. Thankfully, the room seemed to be entirely empty. “I’m here to defeat you and save the-”
        “Cut the shit.” Mark stumbled, startled. 
        “Excuse me?”
        “Cut the shit. Save the city, defeat evil, you superheros are all the same. Why are you actually here? Don’t you have a life? Scratch that, I know you have a life. Why abandon it and deal with shitstains like me?”
        That… really was a good question. Mark put on a brave tone. “Because I know it’s my duty as a gifted fur-”
        “Cut the shit!” The voice rang out, hurting Mark’s ears. It held a hint of real annoyance. “Cut the shit. We both know you’re not some moralistic crusader for justice. That type died out fifty years ago. Why are you here instead of at a job, or with your family?”
        Mark hated how Lynch seemed to cut straight to the heart of the issue. He could have been a therapist had things been different. 
        Taking inspiration from that thought, Mark answered the question with one of his own. “Why are you here? Surely someone with your gifts could do so much more than just take over towers and cause a backup across the highway.”
        There was a real pause before Lynch answered, and Mark made his way to the doorway during it. 
        “That’s… an interesting question. I wonder if my answer is the same as yours.”
        “Answer me, and I’ll answer you. We can both find out.”
There was no hesitation this time. “I don’t trust you to tell the truth. But go up to the next room, and I give you my word that we’ll both tell the truth.” Mark somehow knew that Lynch was not lying here. 
He sighed, closing his eyes. He didn’t see a way to overpower this Lynch… but he seemed oddly intelligent. Maybe if he played along, got to the top, he could convince him to give it up. Wouldn’t that be nice for a change? No fighting, no lengthy monologues, and someone’s life changed for the better.
Mark let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking down and steeling himself before stepping through the frame. 
3
        He didn’t remember the stairwell this time. He knew it must have been dark, and it must have hurt - his entire body ached, and he felt empty somehow - but he couldn’t remember what happened at all. He actually… couldn’t remember much of anything for a little while. His mind was in a fog, and he was too busy trying to figure out what was in this next room to remember.
        The fog cleared. 
        “Why are you here?” Mark asked. Gone was his booming vibrato that inspired fear in the hearts of all who heard. His voice was normal, conversational. 
        “Why am I here?” Lynch replied. “I know why you’re here. You’re not some moralistic hero from decades past, nor do you really want the fame, the fortune, anything that goes along with being a hero. You wouldn’t have kept your identity a secret if you wanted that, would you? No… you do it to make up for something, don’t you?”
        Mark couldn’t deny it. His lips parted like he was about to, but no sound came out. Nothing could. 
        “That’s right.” Lynch continued. “You do this because you feel you have to, you need to make up for the utterly average life you live otherwise.” How could a voice so calm cut so deep? Each word dripped with unsaid venom. “A wife, two kids, a boring office job… you feel like these powers, this position is a chance to make up for being so damn average.”
        Mark knew he couldn’t deny it. What he said was true; it had been lurking in the back of his mind for quite some time. He was utterly average. He graduated from an average college, got an average looking wife, and made an average income from an average job so one day, his two average kids might go to an average college. 
        He hated it. He felt like he had more to give to the world, and these powers were his only chance to make up for the utter nothing that was his home life. He had to be extraordinary to make up for the ordinary that was the real him. 
        He knew all these things were true. He also knew he couldn’t dwell on it; his therapist taught him that much. He decided to turn the tables on Lynch. 
        “Why do you do it, then? You seem to have picked me apart; why do you spend your time doing banal, inconsequential stuff like this?”
        There was a pause where one might imagine Lynch laughing to himself. “Why, simply because it’s fun! Not the backups, not the media attention - that’ll go away soon enough - but it’s fun to fuck with people like you.”
        “People like… me?”
        “Well, not just people like you. People in general. People on top of the world, I love to bring down. People on the bottom, I love to give what they deserve. People like you… harried, stressed… I like to think what I do relieves the tedium of their life.”
        Mark tipped his head. “So… all this was to target me?”
        “Everything. The costume, the announcement, the whole spectacle… all for you. I don’t do it for everyone because everyone is different. Not everyone has your particular needs.” 
        The tiger wasn’t sure what to do next. He thought he could outsmart his opponent, but every step of the way he was the one being yanked along. He thought he might reason with him… but this Lynch, he seemed chaotic, like he was just doing this for fun. There was no real reason, and where there’s no reason, there’s no reasoning. 
        What he didn’t like most, however, wasn’t the feeling of powerlessness he was experiencing; he’d come across tough foes before and even failed before. He was no stranger to that. What he didn’t like was how deep Lynch seemed to get into his mind, picking apart his life like it was nothing and laying bare problems that the tiger had pushed down for years. 
        “Come on now, you’ve almost reached me. One more floor, nothing on it I promise, and then you can walk right up those stairs to me.”
        Mark wasn’t stupid. He knew it was a trap. Lynch must have something planned to trap him. But he also knew he didn’t have any other choice. Whoever this person was, he knew more about him than anyone else, even his own self. He had all the power in the situation, and Mark didn’t want to find out what would happen if he resisted.
        Steeling himself, he crossed the empty room into the stairwell to the next floor.
4
        Something was different. 
        Lynch hadn’t lied. He had opened the door to find the room empty and well lit. It was a yawning concrete cavern with a door on the other end. The door was slightly ajar, hinting at sunlight atop the next, final flight. When he got to the top, he’d be met with the open air and, presumably, Lynch himself. Everything was exactly as promised.
        Yet something was different. 
        “Glad to see you made it.” Lynch’s voice rang cooly out in the empty room, echoing against the walls. “I was genuinely concerned!”
        Mark furrowed his brows. Unlike the every other flight of stairs, he could remember every second he went up them, and he didn’t experience any difficulty at all. Lynch must… must be trying to mess with him, that’s all. He decided to ignore the comment.
        “Well?” Mark said, crossing his arms. 
        Silence answered him.
        “Well?” He said again, a little more forcefully. “Every other floor you’ve went deep into my psyche, you’ve exposed me, raw and bare. I’m waiting for you to do it again.”
        He couldn’t hear it, but Mark could feel the sigh in Lynch’s voice. “I don’t need to this time. I’ve already figured you all out. You’re free to come on up.”
        The tiger’s head tipped to the side. That didn’t feel right. “I’m sure you have something.” He said, confusion edging his words. “Go ahead, lay into me.” 
To be honest, while he knew it was entirely inappropriate given the current circumstance - he was supposed to be defeating yet another villain, after all - he was quite enjoying his assailant’s prying probes into his psyche. It was cathartic in a way, and something he quite needed. His work’s insurance didn’t cover therapy, and he couldn’t exactly come out and tell any therapist his secret, anyways. Whatever happened, he figured he’d have to take a few days off to think over what he’d learned about himself.  
There was an uncomfortably long pause, and the tiger had actually started walking towards the door, resigned to the fact that this was going to end up just another fight, when Lynch’s voice stopped him. 
“You really want me to get in there again?” His voice was genuinely curious, and perhaps a little excited. 
Mark knew he was inviting trouble. “Please, I… well, I’m quite interested in what you’d find.”
“Well… you did ask.” 
The tiger felt a momentary sting that spread from his forehead across his body, and as quick as it came it was gone. Lynch’s voice came a second later.
“What I found was… interesting.”
Mark waited a few moments before finally asking. “What… what did you find?”
“Mark, you feel caught between two worlds, and you don’t want to be in either of them. You don’t want to be spending your time being a hero, saving people, working all this time for no real payoff.” Mark didn’t like it, but he felt like it was true. He never did really like this line of work… “But you don’t want your normal life either. You’re average, utterly and pathetically average. You don’t want to be some idol, but you don’t want to be normal either. You want to be special… but on your terms.”
Mark sighed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. He sat down in the middle of the room, holding his head in his hands. He felt like someone died… his illusion of security and contentedness, perhaps. It hurt... but at the same time, he knew it was better that it all get out there.
“And, uh, Mark… I didn’t actually need to delve into your mind to know any of that.”
Mark couldn’t help but grin a bit. Was he that obvious?
“I did find some… other things out about you. Mark, you’ve been one of the most entertaining targets I’ve had in months. I want to make a deal with you.”
The tiger’s ears perked up, and he lifted his head. “Yeah?” He asked. “What kind of deal?”
“It’s… not so much a deal as much as it is a choice.” Lynch seemed a bit out of his element. He probably wasn’t used to being so open to his targets, Mark figured. “You have two choices. You can leave the building right now. You can walk down all three flights of stairs and step outside. When I see you, I will stand up and walk away. I’ll give up my super villain identity and never terrorize the city again. You’re free to walk away, return to your ordinary and extraordinary double life.” 
The tiger somehow knew that Lynch was being truthful. He was aware that it was likely he was being made to feel this… but he felt it regardless. “And the other choice?” He asked, rising to his feet. Honestly the first choice sounded like a pretty damn great one.
“And the other choice… is you climb this last flight of stairs and meet me face to face. We won’t fight. I will enter into your brain and fix you.”
An uneasy feeling settled over Mark. “Fix… me?”
“You’ll never be happy.” Lynch said plainly. “I can fix that. Even if you give up your superhero identity, you’ll never be satisfied with your ordinary life. If you give up your ordinary life, you’ll never be satisfied with your life of fame and glory. There is nothing you can do to save yourself.”
Mark’s tail lashed, and Lynch continued. “I, however, can save you. With how your mind is, with what you value, there’s exactly one outcome that will make you happy. As soon as you step onto my floor, I’ll go into your mind and alter it so you’ll be happy forever.”
“The choice is yours.”
Mark stood there in the middle of the room for a full minute, the corners of his mouth turned down as he considered his situation. His heart was pulling in two directions, his mind was fighting with itself. 
Finally, he made his decision.
0
        The second the tiger’s foot stepped out of the doorway onto the exposed floor, something changed. He wasn’t sure what it was, but his mind felt clearer than it ever did before. 
        He scanned the roof and found it empty except for a throne made of old boxes set up in the exact middle. On the throne lounged a black jackal. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a handsome, angular face. He wasn’t muscular but toned, the outline of well-sculpted strength complimenting his frame. He was also quite nude, oversized balls hanging plump between his legs and a thick sheath drooling pre. 
        Mark took a step forward, and his vision became black. He let out a yelp. His brain was on fire! It didn’t hurt, but he could almost feel it melting away. His worries melted with it… but so did his intelligence and his inhibitions. Soon all that was left was his base desires.
        He dropped to all fours, feeling his cock swell inside his spandex suit. He never wore anything beneath it, and now he was glad for it. It felt so nice rubbing against his throbbing cock, making a tent with a wet spot at the very tip. 
        He was empty-minded for just a second while he figured out his new wants and priorities. Cocks were obviously one of them. 
He frowned a bit, feeling a pressure in his bowels and bladder. He didn’t like that. How did he get rid of that?
        He looked down at himself, prodding at his stomach. That didn’t do it. Maybe… if he lifted his leg?
        The superhero lifted his left leg high into the air like a feral mutt. That increased the pressure, but he felt like he was getting somewhere! Closing his eyes, he relaxed a bit.
        To his surprise, a warm stream of piss fled from his still-hard cock, quickly soaking the crotch of his spandex suit and spreading down his legs, soaking his lower half in a warm, smelly liquid. 
        A stupid smile spread over his lips. He was suddenly aware of the roar of a nearby crowd. They seemed shocked and disgusted at something… that made his smile grow more. 
        Now his bladder was feeling nice and empty, though he could feel his body quickly making more. That was good, but his bowels were still painfully full.
        Something told him that making his bowels empty would take the opposite of his bladder. He went with the sudden idea, lifting his ass into the air and pushing.
        At first nothing happened, but after a few seconds of effort, a log of shit spread his hole wide. He let out a quiet gasp, toes curling as his cock jumped. He continued to push, and soon that log pushed into his soaked spandex, sliding down his taint to gather around his balls. 
        The smell, the warmth, it was all too much for the former superhero. He squealed and moaned as he filled his spandex up, a sizable brown load sagging and staining his suit. 
        The tiger was so enraptured with the discovery of his bodily functions that he didn’t even notice Lynch standing up, chuckling as he rubbed his cock to life. He didn’t notice the jackal standing right next to him, even when he was finished shitting, and he might not have had Lynch not smacked the dumb feline with his cock.
        The tiger blinked, tipping his head and staring at Lynch’s cock. It was… long, very long, and crooked in the middle. Veins wound around it, throbbing in time with the canine’s heartbeat, dancing around the thick, crooked rod and coming together into one vein at the base of Lynch’s ass-breaking knot.
        The former superhero drooled, salivating at the idea of Lynch’s cock. Any cock, actually! Just the thought made him hungry, made him feel empty…
        Without thinking he leaned forward, tongue out. He slurped at the very tip of Lynch’s cock, and finally he was completely, entirely happy. He had shit and piss in his spandex, his cock was hard and throbbing, and he had another cock to worship with his throat. What else could he want?
        He’d soon found out that he could want cock in his ass, too. But aside from that? He never wanted for anything again.