Quick Fire

An Introductory Type Thing

This is just one I randomly started. I don't know if it will be going anywhere or if I will even like where it goes. We'll just have to see!

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The world needs a hero. That's what all the super heroes in the comics say. Of course, that's just it. They're comics. This is real life. For those of you who didn't know that, my mom knows a good psychiatrist. No one really wants a hero with laser vision, or a hero who dresses up as a bat, or even a super strong hero whose only weakness is some sort of rock from outer space. Don't get me wrong, there are people like that. Like me for instance. Or my dad. Or my granddad. Heck, in almost every generation of my family there is some sort of super hero. But we aren't heroes exactly. More like super humans who try not to be found out and hide their powers like cowards. Not me though. I am going to change that. The world needs a hero. And that is exactly what I plan to give them.

The city I live in is in definite need of a hero. Thefts are a daily routine and the faces of murder victims are posted in the newspaper. People are mugged on a daily basis and no one can go out alone after dark. The people that dare to go out don't last long. I am the only one who can go out at night because of my powers. No one ever dares to mess with me. They know what I am capable of.

My powers began to develop when I was seven years old. I was playing catch with my best riend Alex when the school bully, Gavin (we called him the Great Unibrow in those days) startled me as I threw the ball. Fire shot out of my hand and singed Alex's eyebrows and browned the grass in front of us. Then when the principal expelled me for being a supposed arsonist, I was mad and punched the solid brick wall of the school building and my fist turned it to dust. That's when the principal started to freak out and ran out of the building. Shortly after, my mom picked me up and took me home and told me the truth about what I really was.

Was I upset? No. A seven year old finding out he had super powers? I wanted to go out and kick some butt! But I couldn't because it was my bedtime. Eight years later I have honed my skills so that I am a super fast, super strong flame thrower! My powers were actually cool compared to my dad. He was kinda lame, he could make stuff out of this green goo he produced from this bracelet he got from an alien from outerspace. I told him it was like the Green Lantern from the comic books, but he said it was much different and he was way cooler than that. Right Dad. My grandfather was really, really, really fast. And he could fly.So he called himself the Sonic Flash. That is until one day he went so quick he ran splat into a building and the inmates wre scraping him off the walls, they actually made them work in those days my dad said. My great grandfather, so I'm told, could turn invisible. And that's what he did right after my great grandmother gained a lot of weight and went skinny dipping in the pool one night. We don't know where Great Grandpappy went, but we know it wasn't home. But one thing my ancestors all had in common was one thing: they were all cowards. They said if the world found out then the government would be all over us and doing experiments and we would end up in labled glass test tubes. I have to admit that's true, unless you don't get caught. But at my mother's request I kept my powers on the down low, so low that we didn't even tell my dad. Not that he would have noticed or cared, he worked in an office twelve to thirteen hours a day and the rest of that time is spent either in front of the television, eating like a hog (he has been out of shape as of late) or sleeping like a hog. And by sleeping like a hog, I mean he snores. A lot. Theives don't often come by our house because they think a bear is asleep in the house. Nope, just a fat balding guy. I would say that I am disappointed in the fact that my dad has turned into such a sluggish pig, but to be honest, the less he knew about my powers the better. I didn't even even know if he knew what they were. Sure he knew about them but did he care? No. Did he want to know what was going on in my life? No. And (most importantly) did I care? Absolutely not.