Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere

Viper edged closer to Rusty, his boots scuffing lightly against the blood-slick floor. His breathing became shallow and his body visibly trembled as he nodded at Rusty's suggestion.

He glanced toward the darkness, his face dimly lit by the flickering flame of Rusty's lighter. The glow threw messy shadows across the garage walls, doing little to ease the suffocating void surrounding them.

"We'll tell you whatever you wanna know," Viper began, his voice shaky but loud enough to echo. He swallowed hard as he said this, his Adam's apple bobbing as he licked his dry lips. "Vik and Ash are the bosses, they're—"

Before he could finish, two bloodied hands shot out from the darkness and clamped down on his leg. The grip was firm and desperate, fingers curling tightly around his pants.

"Ah!" Viper yelped, nearly jumping out of his skin as he staggered backward. His foot slipped slightly in the pooling blood, but he managed to keep upright. He then snapped his head down, eyes wide as he scanned the hands clinging to him.

Recognition set in almost immediately as his gaze landed on the tattoos inked just above the wrists—tank tracks and chains, a mark as distinct as the man himself.

"Tank?" Viper stammered, his panic briefly giving way to confusion.

Tank's head emerged from the darkness, his face one of rage. Blood streaked his features, both from his mangled foot and the splatter that had sprayed across his clothes. His teeth were clenched, and his eyes burned with anger as he glared up at Viper.

"You fuckin' sellout!" Tank snarled, his voice raw and furious. "You're gonna break our code 'cause you're scared?!"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Viper froze for a moment, his mouth hanging open. Tank's grip on his leg tightened, the veins in his arms bulging as he dragged himself further out of the shadows. Despite the agony evident in his movements, his rage seemed to fuel him, overpowering the crippling pain radiating from his leg.

Rusty lowered the lighter slightly, its flame casting a clearer view of Tank. For a split second, Rusty's own breath paused—he'd half expected some monster lurking in the dark after Viper's scream.

But seeing Tank, battered and bloody, brought a mix of relief and dread. He took a cautious step closer, his free hand raised as if to calm his enraged comrade.

"Tank, brother," Rusty began, his voice low. "Let's not turn on each other. This ain't worth dying over—"

"You're no brother of mine!" Tank cut him off, his voice trembling from the raw emotion. "How could you?!" His gaze flicked between Rusty and Viper, disgust etched deep into his features.

Rusty winced but held his ground. "C'mon, man. We've all got shit to lose. Let's just—"

"Fuck that!" Viper interrupted, his voice rising to a frantic shout. He shook his leg violently, trying to break free of Tank's iron grip. "I ain't dyin' for that dumbass Vik and that angry bitch Ash! If you want to, then fine by me!"

Tank's lips peeled back into a snarl as Viper turned his attention back toward the darkness.

"Hey!" Viper called out, his voice cracking slightly as he directed his words into the void. "Whoever you are, Vik and Ash are at a stash house on Prominila Road, just behind the abandoned apartment projects and—"

"Argh, you traitor!" Tank roared, cutting him off again.

Using his superior strength, Tank yanked hard on Viper's leg, dragging him down onto the blood-soaked floor with a heavy **thud**. Before Viper could even react, Tank was on him, his fists coming down in a set of savage blows.

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**Smack!** **Thud!** **Crack!**

Each hit landed with pwerful force, the sound of bone and flesh meeting flesh reverberating through the garage.

"Argh! Fuck! Stop-!!" Viper raised his arms in a futile attempt to shield his face, his cries of pain mixing with Tank's furious shouts. "Fuckin sellout! Just die!"

"Tank, stop!" Rusty yelled, stepping forward but hesitating, unsure of whether to intervene.

From the floor, Grady's weak voice came through, trembling with desperation. "Somebody—help me! Please! Just tell it what it wants to know!"

Rusty didn't even glance in his direction. "Shut up, Grady!" he snapped, his attention fixed on the brawl unfolding before him.

Tank paused for a brief second, his bloodied knuckles hovering mid-air as he turned his head toward Grady. His expression was nothing short of murderous. "If you don't die in here," he spat, his voice dangerously low, "I'll kill you myself."

Grady whimpered, his voice fading into incoherent pleas as he clutched at his mangled leg, too weak to fight or argue.

Meanwhile, Viper squirmed beneath Tank, his voice muffled as he tried to shout through the assault. "Rusty! Fuckin' do somethin'!"

Rusty's eyes darted between Tank and Viper, his jaw tightening as he watched Tank's bloodied fists slam down repeatedly on the smaller man.

"Shit," Rusty muttered under his breath. Coming to a quick decision, he stepped forward hurriedly, his boots sloshing in the sticky pool of blood on the floor. Without hesitation, he raised his leg and drove the steel-toed front of his boot directly into Tank's face.

**CRACK!**

The impact was heavy, Tank's head snapping backward with the force of the blow. His grip on Viper slackened immediately and his bloodied hands fell limply to his sides.

His body then slumped sideways onto the floor, half-hidden by the encroaching darkness. A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, pooling beneath his head and mingling with the larger puddles already on the ground.

Rusty staggered back a step, breathing hard as he glared at Tank's motionless form. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered repeatedly, his voice full of frustration. "Dammit Tank I told you to stop, fuck!"

Viper scrambled to his feet, clutching at his bruised ribs as he backed away from Tank. His face was pale, his lip split, and blood smeared across his chin. "Fuck," he hissed as well, staring at Tank's still body. "Shit, you didn't have to kill him!"

Rusty turned sharply, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief. "The fuck you say? You're lucky I hit him before he beat you into the concrete, dumbass! You'd be dead if I hadn't stepped in!"

Before Viper could retort, a voice rolled through the garage like a cold wind, deep, resonant, and full of menace. "I think you should be more concerned with your own lives."

The words froze both men in place. Viper instinctively inched closer to Rusty, while Rusty himself raised his lighter higher, his knuckles white as he tightened his grip on the tiny flame, hoping it would stave off the growing sense of doom surrounding them.

Don's voice came again, a low rumble that seemed to reverberate from every shadow. "If you think that light is what's keeping you alive, I'd be more than happy to prove you wrong if you keep wasting time."

The threat caused Viper's throat to tighten. His voice got stuck, his trembling lips unable to form words. Rusty, though no less terrified, managed to speak, his tone shaky and uneven.

"Y-yeah," Rusty stammered, nodding toward the darkness. "Yeah, they're at the stash house on Prominila Road. I-It's a building right behind some fancy apartment complex that never got finished. T-there's a bunch of bikes parked out front. Y-you can't miss it."

His words came faster now, desperation creeping into his voice. "Listen, just let us go! The product we move—shit, it ain't even real! It's worthless, I swear!"

From the floor, Grady's weak voice croaked out, barely audible. "It's true... please... just let us go..." His words trailed off into incoherent mumbles again, his strength rapidly fading.

Rusty's was a mess as he spoke, his thoughts jumbled. 'Whatever this guy is, he's either after the product or got beef with Vik and Ash. Doesn't matter. I just need to get the fuck out of here.'

Crime had always been risky, especially with the rise of superheroes. But the rules had been clear—get caught, get arrested, do your time. Sure, there were turf wars and the occasional bar brawl or hit, but nothing like this. Nothing so personal. So terrifying.

"We've told you everything," Viper added, his voice trembling as he finally found the courage to speak. He turned his wide eyes back toward the darkness. "Please, let us go now..."

The moment the words left his mouth, a hand emerged from the shadows. It was large, gloved, and coated in a faint mist of black, like smoke curling from an unseen fire. The sight froze both men in place, their breath caught simultaneously in their throats.

The hand moved slowly, reaching for Rusty's lighter. Rusty flinched, instinctively releasing his grip as the hand closed around the small object.

"No..." Viper whimpered, his back hitting the cold steel wall as he edged away. Rusty followed suit, his own back pressing against the cabinet behind him, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him.

Finally, Don stepped fully out of the shadows, his form tall and imposing. The sockets of his mask burned white, casting an unholy glow that seemed to pierce straight into their souls.

"You won't be needing this anymore," Don said calmly, his voice chilling as he crushed the lighter effortlessly in his hand.

**Crunch**

The room plunged back into absolute darkness, the flame extinguished, leaving only the sounds of Rusty and Viper's desperate screams.

"No… please."

"No… no… noooooooo!"