“Get the heroes here right now! We are under attack!” Shouts filled the street.
Bullets whizzed past the militant Union members. He cocked his weapon and peaked over the side. The brick work on the opposite side of the street was covered in a red plaster like substance.
“Bronny! What is that shit?!” One of his team members ducked behind an overturned personnel transporter.
“I don’t fucking know. Just keep cover and stay alive while we wait!” The people quickly obliged his command and stayed as safe as possible.
He peaked over the side once more only to immediately duck out of the way from a barrage of projectiles. A few of them nearly grazed is helmet in passing.
‘Where are those shots coming from and how the hell do they know where I'll be before poking my head out?’
He was getting nowhere. A burst of flames erupted to their side, lighting one of their guardsmen up in a ball of fire.
‘At least it wasn’t one of my men.’ The apathetic thought crossed his mind as he ran through any way he could help. Before he could even begin to move forward. The human torch stood up, flailing his arms in the air for merely a moment before being riddled with a stream of bullets.
The body fell to the ground motionless and quickly charred.
‘Damn.’
He took a look at his surroundings for any way of escape. It was clear that the only people who could help in this situation were still back at the warehouse, guarding the evidence in case a villain came scavenging. It would take twenty minutes before they would arrive.
Plenty of time for them to end up like the swiss-cheese of a man only a dozen yards away. His power was working overtime, dissecting every bit of detail it could.
He replayed his memories right before everything went to shit. They had been driving down the road. The asphalt was wet as it always was late at night and the streetlights were flickering like normal. They had emptied the route to the Union headquarters to get the prisoners booked as fast as possible.
Everything was going smoothly.
Then everything just wasn’t.
Every vehicle had been thrown into the air like a telekinetic decided to have a field day. There wasn’t a single giveaway that something was wrong before it happened. He double and triple checked.
“Damn.” He repeated the thought out loud.
They had gotten lucky and landed facing the side of the street that wasn’t covered in the strange red substance that rained bullets upon anyone in its line of sight. They had to learn the hard way as they lost nearly a dozen men in the first few seconds.
Now things were moving as slowly as possible. The men had their weapons close to their chests as they were trained and kept every part of their body huddled together in fear of losing it to the surgical bullets.
He craned his neck to the side, spotting an unconscious woman with pulp for legs. The crimson mush was riddled with lead like a hotdog peppered with bird shot. Her chest barely moved under his watchful gaze.
He glanced past her and towards the end of the block. The red substance began and ended on the block’s brick laden walls. He just needed to find a way to get him and his men to safety. The prisoners would have to fend for themselves. In no world that he lived in, would he risk his neck for that kind of scum.
One of the streetlights flicked. Bonny turned his head in its direction and saw their salvation. Or at least what he hoped was their salvation.
The single manhole cover looked like a sign from God as he went to work making a plan. They were much too far away to make it without getting filled with a bunch of holes. He needed a way to get to it and he needed it now.
The vehicle the six of them were hiding behind was the only real option they had. He recalled the briefing with all of the seemingly unnecessary information. The looks of boredom on all of the attendees' faces.
“The criminals will be transported in the AVT-13UL. It stands for armored vehicle transport, thirteen thousand pounds unloaded. Hey, pay attention everyone! This is important stuff.”
Things that tended to be seemingly unimportant in the moment frequently ended up very important when things went to shit.
“Everyone. Listen up, I know how we're gonna get out of this.”
All of his squad perked up at the news. Their faith in him had always been unwavering and moments like these only further reinforced it.
“We are going to drag this truck from here.” He knocked on the ground with a closed fist. “All the way over there.” He motioned towards the metal lid blocking them from salvation.
The group looked to the truck before turning to look in the manhole covers direction.
“That’s impossible, sir. This thing has to be twenty thousand pounds. There are only six of us and none of us have Superhero levels of strength.”
He let him speak his worries, nodding along with each word.
“I get it, but what other options do we have?” He looked at each one of them.
“Exactly. It's my job to get you guys home safe and this is the only way that I know how.” They all exchanged loaded looks before turning resolute.
“Perfect. Strongest in the middle, weakest to the sides.”
They shuffled around each other while avoiding the red wall’s line of sight. Their gloved hands gripped the frame of the overturned transport and pulled with every bit of force they could manage.
It didn’t move. They stopped for a moment to take in a few labored breaths.
“I don’t think it’s possible.” One of the men said as he rubbed his hands together.
“Come on. We can’t think like that. We need to do this, or we might not make it home alive and well.” They turned to their squad leader.
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“I know each and every one of your families. I can’t have them pissed at me because I got you all gunned down by some nebulous trap. Especially when they would be the ones invited to my funeral.”
He chuckled to himself.
“Imagine that. A funeral made up of a bunch of people that hate your guts. Help me make that stay a dark thought in my fucked head.”
He peeked over the side and blanked as a bit of hope flooded him. The red wall was gone from the tops of the buildings. He stood taller, searching for where it went when he quickly ducked out of the way. A few bullets slammed into the building on the opposite side of the street.
‘It's moving onto the road. It’s going to shoot us from below. We won’t be able to hide.’
He went to work.
“Alright guys. Let's do this.”
They grappled the metal frame and heaved. Nothing.
They heaved again. Nothing.
“Come on guys. Think about what we are gonna do after we get out of here. Three, two, one!”
They pulled with everything they had and fell back as the massive metal transport slid. They turned to him with hope plastered to their faces in glee.
“Let's keep going. No time to waste.”
They reached for it once again and used every muscle in their bodies to move the gargantuan machine. This time it came easier. Significantly easier.
“See guys. Just keep this pace up and we are mocking it home tonight as real Heroes. Not some superhero that needs their powers to win. Let’s go!”
The vehicle moved another foot, then another yard, and then ten more. By the time the vehicle came to a stop, they were well within reach of safety. Bronny was too afraid to peek over the armored truck to look but he doubted they had much more time. He reached for the metal lid and jammed his fingers in the gaps.
‘Come on. Let something go my way.’
He struggled for a few seconds before it moved. The other members rushed for the heavy cover, pushing it to the side. They all stared down the hole to the sewer like it was the promised land regardless of the stench wafting into their faces.
“What are you guys doing? Get a move on!”
They shuffled down the thin, iron ladder in a single file line. Bronny’s foot tapped against the pavement while he watched that last of his men begin the descent. The tension was just beginning to waver when he heard a shout from the poor woman from earlier. She was barely visible now, but her fate was clear. She looked like spilled ground meat.
He threw his feet onto the rungs and got to work disappearing into the darkness. His arm reached for the cover and began pulling it shut when he looked back in the van’s direction. A splitting headache rocked his senses as he fell from the ladder, the manhole cover tumbling into place.
Everything went dark.
-
He was sitting across from an older woman when a childish voice made itself know.
“No mommy, I didn’t mean to make you angry!” It was filled with sadness and terror.
“Then why did you talk back to me in front of my friends?”
The voice stabbed into Sean’s heart.
“Mommy,I-uh-I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought you forgot so I wanted to make sure you remembered. I swear I wasn’t trying to be mean.”
A loud slap rang out and a warmth spread out across his cheek. Wailing ripped through the room.
“Oh, shut your mouth right now before I sow it close.”
The mother’s harsh voice stung his ears. Every word was filled with disgust and hatred.
“I’m-I’m-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. Please mommy!” The childish crying begged and pleaded. The woman across from him pushed the chair in behind her and grabbed him by the arm.
“You are going in time out.”
The childish voice only intensified with fear. It was obvious that he was scared to his core.
The pair sped down a long rickety halfway with the sound of an old smoke detector beeping in the distance. She flung an old heavy door open, rattling the whole house with the violence in the act. He was pushed into the darkness and fell to his knees, scrapping them raw against the rough wood floor.
“Please mommy, I don’t like it in here! It’s dark!”
The complaints fell on deaf ears as he turned around to see the apathetic eyes of the woman this child called his mom. The door slammed shut.
The child spent the next day, hungry and terrified, bathed in the darkness that refused him comfort. Eventually the door open and he limped his way out with the cold glare of the woman staring down at him like he was filth.
Time passed by with every little slight resulting in long time outs in the dark room. He tried his hardest to make his mommy happy, but every bit of effort was answered with disgust. It was soul shattering.
One night was going better than most. His mother had gotten a bottle of wine and was enjoying herself in front of the tube tv positioned on the kitchen table. The reruns of old sitcoms were the only times he could remember her smiling.
He walked up to her with a plate of food he had prepared and sat beside her. His heart ached as he watched as his smile dropped.
Before he could say a word, she stood up and pulled him to the door. He didn't cry this time. The darkness had lost its cripppling fear. Now it was just loneliness. She pushed him inside and slammed the door shut. He could hear sitcoms playing through the cracks in the old doors.
The first day passed and they kept on running without another sound in the house. The next day came and went with much of the same. His head ached and his stomach growled. He called out to his mother and got no reply. The third day arrived. Still, his mother never let him out.
His small body curled against the door, looking between the gaps for any signs of movement. There were none. His head pounded in pain. He was too tired to do anything but stay still and wait.
She would open it soon. That was the only thought he had.
His consciousness failed him. He came in and out, flashes of heat and cold were the only thing that reminded him he was alive.
Something finally snapped. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at the door. He needed out. He slammed his small fists into the door, bloodying his knuckles. He was going to die if he didn’t get that door open.
The cracked lips split as he grunted in pain.
His fists beat it again. Nothing gave way. He was trapped. It was only a matter of time before he went to sleep and didn’t wake up. He fell to the ground. His scabbed knees were sore and freshly scuffed. It was exhausting to even breathe.
His small hands lifted once more, and he clutched them tightly together. Light burst forth. The dark room was filled with a dim red aura. He looked at his hands in confusion and licked his dry lips. They glowed with energy like he had never seen.
“I’m... a Superhero?” The question came out like a cough.
His hands unfurled and he pushed against the door. It exploded in his face. Large shards of wood burst into the hall as a small hole opened up. His small body force its way through and into the familiar hallway. A smile lifted the corners of his lips up. He turned towards the sound of the sitcoms.
His wobbly legs took him into the kitchen, and everything turned to a blur. There was a heavy stench that caused his eyes to pour tears. The floor was sticky with dry wine.
No matter how much he pleaded and begged, his mother didn't answer. He had to find help.
His small feet carried him to the front door. He was on autopilot as he made his way to the end of the street. The rest of the day was a blur with cops and kind people to talk to.
He eventually settled in with a new family, but no matter where he ended up, he felt alone. It took him years before using his powers for the second time ever. A red glow overtook him as he shot a dog that had been mauling him in an alley.
It was exhilarating and nearly made up for the warm drip of blood leaving his calf. The thrill refused to leave. He felt an intense desire to cause more pain that only made him feel more alienated than ever. School only got worse as he rose in grades when he finally had enough of the bullying that had become a constant fact of life. A bigger kid had sucker-punched him in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
He lifted his hand and let a red charge build in its grasp. He could feel his face twist into a sick sneer of joy. The shot flew out, caving the kid's chest in with ease and ending his life. With no other choice, he went on the run.
Years flew by before he knew it.
He finally had his own gang and now he was defending his territory like any good pimp and drug dealer would have done. The prostitution ring had been going so well he had hardly believed it. He was making so much money that he got into the pill business on the side, and he was living well for the first time ever.
His fun came to an end. A hero had broken in and taken out several of his men. He flung bolt after bolt of red death to no avail. It looked like his time was up. Memories of the darkness came flooding back. That was his future in a cell.
His hands burned with life and his core leaked energy. A massive explosion rang out with him in the center. He felt better than ever. His steps were light as he walked on glowing air like solid earth.
He looked down at the hero with death collecting in his fist. He was going to win. His first real victory against the oppressive society that surrounded people like him. A burning pain erupted on the back of his skull.
Everything went dark.