Chapter 8: Great-Aunt Vera
It was a scorching summer day. The noon sun beat down on the sleepy town, its glare so intense it was difficult to look at anything directly. The air hung thick and heavy with the unique, metallic scent of sun-baked rust and asphalt.
No one in their right mind would want to be out in it, and the town itself seemed to agree. A deep languor had settled over everything, as if the very buildings were melting into the pavement. The few old folks dotting the street-side benches, moving with the speed of glaciers, were a proof of the oppressive heat.
The Rustbucket rumbled slowly down the main street, its engine a low groan against the quiet.
"Okay, so this one is… Heatblast, and that's Diamondhead… I'll just call this one… uh… Slimy Guy? Wow, ten whole alien heroes! This is so awesome!" Ben was practically bouncing on the sofa, fiddling with the Omnitrix on his wrist. "I can't wait to turn into one of these guys and pound some bad guys!"
"You're such a dweeb. I think the heat's gotten to that tiny brain of yours," Gwen retorted, not even looking up from her book. With a flick of her wrist, a shimmering pink aura of mana snaked out, wrapped around the kettle near the sink, and floated it over. It tilted, pouring a stream of cool water into a glass for her and another for Klein. She took a small, delicate sip. "You think you're like Klein? You'll probably get so scared you forget how to even use the watch when it matters."
"Hey, I want some too!" For once, the excited Ben didn't rise to the bait. The sweltering heat made his throat feel like sandpaper.
"Get it yourself," Gwen said flatly, not one to coddle him.
From the driver's seat, Grandpa Max glanced in the rearview mirror, a warm smile on his face. "Heh, they really do get along, don't they? We're almost there, kids. Brace yourselves. Your Great-Aunt Vera has a mean cheek-pinch."
Soon enough, the Rustbucket pulled to a stop in front of a quaint, single-story house. A stout, smiling old woman with a cloud of white hair stood waiting at the door.
"Vera, long time no see," Grandpa Max called out as he stepped out of the RV.
"Max! It's been too long," Great-Aunt Vera replied, her eyes twinkling. Her gaze then shifted to the three kids piling out behind him.
"Oh ho ho! Look at you all! Ben, Gwen, you've grown so much!" She descended upon them, expertly pinching Ben's cheek, then Gwen's, eliciting twin yelps. When she got to Klein, however, she paused, her hand hovering. "And who is this handsome young man?" she asked, looking at Max.
"Ah, this is Klein. I adopted him a few months ago," Grandpa Max explained, placing a hand on Klein's shoulder. And with that, Klein found he could not escape his fate, his own cheek falling victim to Aunt Vera's surprisingly strong, affectionate pinch.
"Well, don't just stand there baking in the sun! Come on in, I've made lunch," she said, warmly ushering them inside.
Indoors, Ben was already grumbling with boredom. Gwen, on the other hand, was chatting animatedly with their great-aunt, catching up on family news. Klein, meanwhile, let his eyes drift around the cozy, knick-knack-filled living room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a quiet curiosity.
Soon, it was time for lunch.
In the center of the dining table sat a large, quivering basin of brownish, gelatinous… something. Suspended within the translucent mass were unidentifiable chunks of dark brown and pale white.
Klein, Ben, and Gwen stared at the bizarre dish, their appetites vanishing in an instant. Klein had certainly never encountered anything like it, and he had no intention of starting now.
"Vera, this is absolutely delicious! What are these brown bits again?" Grandpa Max, however, was digging in with gusto, completely unfazed.
"That's pig liver, dear. And the white bits are gizzards," Aunt Vera replied cheerfully.
"Ugh…" Ben visibly gagged. "I'm, uh, full! Gotta use the restroom," he announced, bolting from the table as if escaping a fire. As he fled, he muttered under his breath, "I have to get out of this place."
Though Ben's whisper was barely audible, Klein caught it perfectly. His physical constitution was inherently superior to that of a normal human, and his five senses were no exception.
A moment after the bathroom door clicked shut, a faint green light seeped from the crack underneath.
'So he turned into Ghostfreak,' Klein noted mentally. He knew because just before Ben had made his escape, he'd made a half-hearted attempt to spook Gwen, his shadow momentarily stretching in an unnatural way.
"Hehe, now where should I go play?" Ghostfreak's spectral form whispered, phasing effortlessly through the wall and out into the sweltering afternoon.
The few elderly people dotting the streets paid the invisible entity no mind. Ghostfreak drifted aimlessly until the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pie wafted from an open window. He floated closer, peering inside, only to witness a truly bizarre scene. An old woman was swatting at flies buzzing around the pie. The insects dodged her swatter with impossible agility, finally landing on the ceiling. In a movement that defied her age, the old woman leaped into the air, her limbs adhering to the ceiling like a spider's. Her tongue shot out, snatching a fly from the air and swallowing it whole.
"Whoa, ninja grandma!" Ghostfreak recoiled in shock. "That is way too weird!" He quickly floated away, thoroughly creeped out.
His journey through the town only revealed more strangeness. He saw an old woman perform a perfect standing backflip to pick up a dropped coin. He watched an old man, who was watering his lawn, sidestep a speeding car without even looking. Then, he saw it—an old man whose neck twisted a full 180 degrees.
This particular old man was standing in the middle of a junkyard, right in front of Ben. He had just pushed aside a large dumpster, revealing a hidden metal door set into the ground beneath it. Just as the man reached for the handle, he must have heard Ghostfreak's faint, ethereal presence. His head swiveled around, a dry crackle echoing in the silence, his eyes locking directly onto Ben's spectral form.
"Gah! Annoying old creep! What's with you people?!" Ben yelped, his invisibility flickering. He shot backward, a frantic chase ensuing through the maze of junk. The creepy, head-spinning man was surprisingly fast, but Ben was finally saved when he phased through a large water pipe, spraying the creature and causing it to shriek and recoil.
"Oh no! The whole town is full of alien weirdos!" Ben panicked, flying back to Aunt Vera's house at top speed and phasing back into his human form inside.
"Shh!"
Ben's frantic entrance was immediately cut short by sharp hisses from Grandpa Max and Gwen.
"Aunt Vera just fell asleep, Ben. Keep it down," Grandpa Max reminded him gently.
"Seriously? It's only six-thirty!" Ben muttered, baffled by the early bedtime.
"Alright, Ben," Klein interjected, seeing the conversation was about to derail. He leaned forward, his expression calm. "What did you just say?"
Prompted by his cousin, Ben recounted everything he had seen—the fly-eating woman, the impossible acrobatics, the head-twisting man, and the secret door in the junkyard.
"Ben, you said they have a secret door?" Klein asked, his tone thoughtful. He had no desire to spend the night wondering what sort of creepy-crawlies were lurking about. "Take me to see it."
…
Next to a dilapidated house on the edge of the junkyard, Ben led the small group, creeping along the wall and peeking around the corner. Several of the elderly townsfolk were milling about, their heads scanning the area as if searching for something.
"Alright, great detective, what exactly are you doing?" Gwen whispered, rolling her eyes at Ben's overly dramatic sneaking.
"Ben, I remember you said one of them was scared off by water, right?" Klein said, his patience wearing thin. He had no intention of playing this cat-and-mouse game. How long were they supposed to sneak around? If they were powerless, that would be one thing. But with the abilities they possessed, the aliens should be the ones hiding from them.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Klein's face. He decided it was time for a crushing game.
He casually slapped the faceplate of his Omnitrix.
"Water Hazard!"
A flash of cyan light erupted, and in Klein's place stood a towering, crimson-shelled alien.
"Alright! If that's how we're doing it, then it's hero time!" Ben grinned, seeing his cousin's move. He slammed his own watch.
"Four Arms!"
A green flash, and the scrawny ten-year-old was replaced by a hulking, four-armed, red-skinned powerhouse. "Listen up, weirdos! The great hero is here to flatten you!" With a roar, Four Arms leaped out from behind the wall.
Gwen's form shimmered, her skin taking on a purple, ethereal glow as she shifted into her Anodite state. Floating into the air, she gathered her mana, conjuring more than a dozen of the slug-like creatures—the ones Ben had seen earlier—and crushing them with telekinetic force. But to her frustration, their gelatinous bodies simply reformed, squelching back to their original shape.
Four Arms quickly ran into the same problem. His powerful punches passed through the creatures with a wet splat, doing no lasting damage. They seemed immune to physical attacks.
Watching his three grandchildren unleash their powers, Grandpa Max stood back, a thoughtful look on his face. 'Looks like I need to get some of my old equipment out of storage,' he mused.
Seeing that Four Arms' and Gwen's attacks were ineffective, the slug-like aliens grew bolder, their forms coalescing into a larger, menacing mass. A gurgling voice emanated from it. "It is useless, food. Your struggles are pointless. Capture them. The old one will be pickled and eaten. The young ones… we will raise for a while longer."
Water Hazard watched the arrogant display, his patience completely gone. He raised a single, barnacle-encrusted hand. A high-pressure torrent of water erupted from his palm, a liquid battering ram that slammed into the creatures. The blast sent them flying, washing them down the street and tearing through several flimsy fences and sheds in its path.
Seeing this, Four Arms and Gwen immediately understood. It was their first real battle, after all; a bit of a delayed reaction was to be expected.
Four Arms grabbed the water pipes running along the side of a nearby building and tore them from their moorings, unleashing geysers of water. At the same time, Gwen condensed her mana into a razor-sharp disc and hurled it, neatly slicing a fire hydrant in half.
In an instant, the entire street began to flood.
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