As Vendetta approaches me, his arms held wide like some gargantuan wrestler, with me unable to step back due to Clash behind me, I decide to reflect on my life. After all, this might be my last few seconds alive.
I was born to Cormac and Mary Rochester, in the mansion which I lived in for my entire life. My father was the classic gang boss, holding himself high, being fancy and speaking in veiled threats. He was also quite a competent accountant, funnily enough, and ran a legitimate business on the side. My mother was a super, but she was, according to my father, too gentle a soul to fight anyone. My father spoke highly of her, but refused to tell me her power, always saying it was unimportant.
I went to private schools for most of my life, but my father decided that I needed to learn how to be around regular people once I got to high school. I’m not sure what he expected, but I swiftly made my own little group of friends. There are three of them, quite a cliché, I know, but they’re good people. I’ve known them for over three years, so if anyone would known it’d be me.
First, the living cliché, John Doe, yes that’s really his name. He loves sports, but the universe saddled him with the classic powerset of super strength, speed, and damage resistance, usually called the Supersolider set. Supers are not allowed to play sports, so he’s forced to sit in the bleachers, using superpowered lungs to shout encouragements to our team. John is also a major cape nerd, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone told me he has every cape in his massive binder. It looks hilarious, seeing this 6’4”, handsome giant of a man, gleefully giggling while adjusting his cape figurines.
My next friend, Don Michael, though people usually call her Donny, is the rebel-type of the group. She’s got it all, leather jacket with a popped collar, shirt dark red hair, usually smoking a clean cig while leaning against a wall. Unfortunately, she also fills the heart-of-gold delinquent role, in that she loves cats and can be seen helping grannies walk across busy intersections. Hell, her motorcycle has a seat belt and a backrest, for safety reasons. I’ve never seen her go past the speed limit, even in an empty stretch of road. I’m sure she makes people’s hearts melt.
The last member of our little troupe, Brooke Hyper, would fit the bookish nerd archetype, if not for the biting comments and scalding insults that seem to constantly stream from her lips. I once saw her talk a mugger to tears, from her criticisms alone. The only reason I know her well enough to call her a friend, is because she and John nerd out about capes together. Brooke’s your typical perfectionist, with practically her entire life planned out. Granted, she’s the heir to the Hypertech throne, so it probably isn’t that hard to structure one’s life around that. Contrary to popular belief, her dad’s a great guy, if a little soft-spoken. It’s hard to believe that he runs a multi-billion dollar company that makes almost everything related to technology. That’s the magic of superpowers, I suppose.
The four of us make a real hellion crew, or we would if I wasn’t wanted by the cops, and about to be crushed or ripped apart by a giant supervillain. I’m going to miss those dorks.
I’ve spent the last few seconds making rapid swings at his hands, ineffectually attempting to bat them away. With a short lunge, he grabs the baseball bat, ripping it from my hands like candy from a baby. I lean back, preparing to brace myself, which causes me to realize that Clash is no longer behind me. I leap back, before risking a glance behind me. The three assassins lay in a clump. From the looks of it, Clash slammed their heads together, which was probably what that big cracking sound was earlier.
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Seeing as how she isn’t here now, she must’ve ran off. Not much of a surprise, considering how strong Vendetta is. He’s a super to boot, but I can’t remember what his power is at the moment.
As soon as I think this, the universe decides to play a joke on me, in the form of a laser beam narrowly missing my foot. Oh right, he can shoot lasers. That’s probably what that dot in the middle of his mask is. It’s not some fancy design, I bet it amplifies the lasers or something!
Switching my gaze from the hole in the sidewalk to the big man himself, I see that the errant beam was sent because he’s in the middle of a fight. Clash didn’t abandon me after all, it’s a miracle! Or it would be, if she could actually do any damage. From what I can see, the blur of color is doing little more than love taps, judging by how Vendetta is responding to the hits.
The street around them, however, has dark burns covering it in patches, because of Vendetta’s red laser periodically shooting out out of his. I looked around, to see if I can find a better weapon. Instead, I find myself spying an Asian man, presumably a Korean considering where we are, staring out his window. When he notices me staring, he turns away and closes the blinds, leaving me to find some way to turn the tides of this super battle.
Drastic times call for drastic measures. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a white mask, similar to a hockey mask, with two holes for the eyes and a gridded pattern protecting the mouth. I close my eyes, running my fingers over the ornately carved bone-white surface, before pressing it to my face. It sticks on, allowing me to lower my hands. I open my eyes and breath in deep. I haven’t worn this thing in too long. I wonder if I’m still remembered?
I rush towards Vendetta, my previous fears all but vanished in the wind. All I need is to get that helmet off of him, and it’ll be a done deal. He should recognize me now, considering I wore this mask when I spooked his former boss.
Racing towards him, I can see his stance change from one of aggressive defense to full blown panic.
“You’re not getting away, Vendetta! You remember what I did to old Deadly Eye, don’t you?“
Clash stops, a very puzzled look forming on the visible part of her face. However, despite the tides turning, she decides that Vendetta is still an enemy, and trips him up when he starts to run.
His helmeted face bounces off the concrete of the road, and I’m on him before he can begin to pull himself up.
“Don’t do this, please! I can give you anything! I’ll- I’ll serve you for life!” Vendetta’s voice shakes as he desperately crab walks away.
“It’s too late now. Not to sound cheesy, but are you ready to face true fear?” I know, it’s stupid, and I doubt that he can even hear me, but let me embrace my inner chunibyo.
I reach out and pry his helmet off his head, revealing a face only a mother could love, especially with all the tears and snot covering it. I guess, when you’re facing your biggest fear, anyone would be an ugly crier.
In one last act of fear, he shoots his eye lasers at me. The glance off the mask, leaving a pristine surface behind. Then, I lean forward and fully activate the mask.
His screams echo across the nearly empty street.