Darkbloom
Storm King of Superheroes
The sound of his boots on marble flooring reverberate through the building as he walks past the bodies of people who got in his way. Maimed, dismembered, beheaded, are only a few of the methods he used to dispatch of them. He's fine with messy jobs, he'll do them any day of the week. But he also has standards. None of these people were incredibly strong, which he normally prefers. Being one of the top five villains in the world should at least allow him to be pitted against stronger heroes. He takes out a cellphone and sends a text to his boss. The job is done. Make it harder next time. With a sigh, the man slides his phone into his pocket and walks out with the desired object. Once he's outside, it is silent. No sirens, no police cars screeching to a halt, no officers getting out of their cars and hiding behind their car doors for cover while they point guns at him. It's been tried already, many times. As a result, more than half of the police force has died, leaving them with only a skeleton crew unable to stand up against even the most minor villain. "Hm. Really good night." He wonders what he'll have to achieve to become the number on villain in the world. These thoughts consume his mind as he walks home to his secret lair, and the amount of training required for it.
Vinegar Bees