Heroes

Chapter 33: the origin

George POV.

Dream had been gone the whole day, probably to cause some chaos during the crime wave, and I desperately wanted to know what was happening. Were my friends okay? How many casualties were there? And the question which was worrying me the most, who was the person that Quackity was sneaking into the city during this?

There were guards who had been standing in my room to keep an eye on me, however I managed to convince them to stand outside when I told them I was tired and wanted to sleep. At first they had been reluctant to leave but after I pointed out that Dream would want me to have enough sleep and I couldn’t do that if people were staring at me.

Since the pair were gone I could take the opportunity to look around some more, since I didn’t get many chances to look yesterday. I walked over to the blond’s desk and began looking through the drawers on his desk.

Inside I saw a series of six files, each one labelled with the name of one of six different people. They seemed quite similar to the files that I had seen at the Las Nevadas casino yesterday, except this one was filled out better than the other one.

Along with powers, known facts, strengths, and weaknesses, there were listed likes and dislikes, suspected place of origin, known associates, and more. There were the four files of us heroes; one for me, Karl, Bad, and Techno. Then there was one that was for Sam, the police chief,

There was one final file that was barely filled out. It just said ‘the heroes’ helper’ and I assumed it had to be talking about Philza. There was absolutely no information on him in there, the file had everything filled out as ‘unknown’ or ‘no info’.

I decided to look through the files to see what Dream and his lackeys knew about us. My file was identical to the one that Quackity had, with the only addition being some photos and IDs of people who I was speculated to be, none of which were actually me. Several of the photos had the words ‘dead’ or ‘deceased’ written over them with a black marker.

Over my name in a marker was the word ‘missing’ which let me breathe out a sigh of relief. I feel that if Dream had known I was here he wouldn’t have that word. There were other details about me on the file, how old they thought I was, where they thought I was born, what my job might be. Most of the information written down was wrong but still scarily close to the truth.

✨8 years ago✨

My hood was pulled over my head to avoid the rain as I ran through the crowds of the late evening. Most of them were all hurrying home from their work before the rain got too much worse. I ran down the steps into the London Underground, planning on doing what I always do and getting a ride home.

I paid for a ticket and headed to the underground platform and it was quite quiet. I guess it did make sense after all it was quite late in the day. The next train was just over seven minutes away and so I went to one of the benches near the edge of the platform and sat down to wait for the train to come.

Every day for the past four or five years I had gotten the subway home, and this place was the same since the first time I came here. There was a row of vending machines and old arcade cabinets pushed up against the wall on one side of the platform instead of benches, so that people could have some entertainment or something to eat while they waited for their trains.

On the opposite side of the platform were some toilets, and a machine to buy some newspapers. It was a lot more plain than the other side of the train platform, and it smelled a lot because of a plumbing problem that feels like it has been needing to be fixed for years at least.

The last thing that has been here for years was a sign about faulty wiring on the tracks, apparently it was a loose wire or something, and anyone who fell down there would be electrocuted, but anyone who went down there must have had a death wish anyway. What surprised me was the fact that still nobody had tried to fix it after at least three years.

For about five minutes I was just sitting on my phone, texting some of my friends from school and playing some games. Suddenly I felt someone grab my shoulder from behind and pull me onto the ground. I let out a yelp in surprise and looked over my shoulder to see a man in a black ski mask.

“Give me all of your valuables.” The man said, acting like a supervillain out of one of the stupid superhero books I had read while growing up.
“I… I don’t have any valuables.” I told him, “only my phone and my train ticket and my school stuff, nothing else!”

The man wearing the mask seemed annoyed by what I said, but he didn’t seem to believe me either way. “We’ll see about that.”
He pushed me back and grabbed the backpack that had been sitting beside me and began rummaging through it.

“No!” I yelled out, grabbing at the backpack and trying to pull it out of the strange man's grip. He was taller than me, and managed to hold it above my head, but seemed annoyed when I tried to make a grab at it.

As a way of stopping me he gave me a firm kick to the stomach, sending me falling backwards onto the ground. I expected to only fall onto the tiled floor of the platform, however I fell further below that, below the tiled ground and onto the train tracks.

It wasn’t that much more of a drop but it was incredibly noticeable, and when my back fell against the tracks a sudden surge of electricity ran through my body. An ear piercing scream flew from my lips as waves of electricity flew through my body and I writhed and squirmed on the train tracks. A cry of help fell from my throat but nobody seemed to notice it.

I don’t know how long I had been laying there screaming but eventually my brain couldn’t handle the stress and I passed out.
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