South Central, Los Angeles, CA
21:01
A rather normal man sitting on a buildings step moistens his forehead with a water bottle on his head. The summer heat can be seen washing on the street even at this time of night.
"Yo. Trenton. Sup dog."
The one sitting looks up to see a well-built man wearing a jersey and pair of shorts. Trenton just gives a slight two finger wave then stands up and starts to stretch.
"Shouldn't be this hot at night Wes. Fucked up."
Trenton starts to walk and Wes follows along with him. Wes looks up, as a figure seems to fly past one of the buildings.
"Yo! You see that shit?"
"What?"
"Some mothafucka flying over there."
"You act like you're surprise dog. So many mutants and superhero types it ain't anything new."
"But slummin' it down here?"
"Good point."
The two move down an alley, which at the end of it exit to a basketball court. Wes lights up a Black and Mild then shakes his head.
"Seems the only time we see them type is when they are slumming. Cats don't give a fuck about us down here."
"I hear ya."
Right as the two come out of the alley they see a battle going on. One man is using the basketball courts pole to knock down some costumed figure. Both Trenton and Wes just stare with eyes wide open.
"Shit!"
"On the real! Now we gotta walk six more blocks to another court."
"Some fucked up shit."
"Wanna see how it ends out?"
"Why? They already fucked up the court."
"Aight."
The two begin to walk on though just as they're about to a vampire jumps out from the same alley they just came out from. Slowly he stalks up to them with a menacing grin.
"Going two suck you to dry."
"It's another vampire."
"Yea. Days like this I miss some cat trying to mug us. Now we got these guys around."
"Foolish mortals. You have no idea the power I possess. And soon I shall raise you two but only after feasting slowly upon you."
Trenton and Wes just watch the vampire as he continues talking, while ever slowly he walks closer and closer to them. Those fangs just barely catching the dim lighting the night. The vampire finally stops moving closer and just at that time seems as if he is about to pounce. Though right before he does both Trenton and Wes punch him in his face, which throws him off balance and he falls to the ground.
"Bitch! You ain't in the suburbs."
"They must be fighting over turf uptown again."
"I shall drink your blood after rending you two limb from limb!"
Right as the vampire leaps up to pounce once again on the two, they both remove pistols from they're pants and fire upon him. Where each round hits large gaping holes are made. Wes fires again blowing out both the vampire's kneecaps. The vampire falls face first onto the ground yet still tries to come after them. Grasping at the ground he slowly crawls his way to them.
"Some mothafuckas."
"Ah'd say these guys are almost as bad as the crack heads."
"'Bout the same dog."
While the two continue to talk the vampire almost has reach of Trenton's ankle, though Trenton just moves it out of the way. With his foot in the air he rams it down on the back of the vampire's head. The vampire flings his arm attempting to grasp Trenton. Then Trenton looks towards Wes, and Wes responds with a shrug.
"You can not kill me with you weapons. I shall come after you and your family. Though I will save you two for last. I shall watch as I drain them oh so slowly."
"Hey. Bitch. You guys die by decapitation right? What you think would happen if I shot you face blank if our rounds bust you open that far away?"
"Wha-?"
Trenton releases a single round as the vampire's head explodes from the impact of the round. Soon after his body begins to crumble around him. Trenton squints his eyes then begins to pad off the mess.
"You believe this shit. Need to get a shower dog or I'm goin' to be smellin' like this fuck all night."
"Aight."
"Fucks like that just make thin's fucked up for the rest of us. You know I got my last kicks messed up by some gnome or elf or whatever it was two weeks ago?"
"At Tyana's Bar-B-Q?"
"Yea. Squash that shit anyway. Let's get back dog."
New York, New York 14:51
And across the other end of the country is what is left of a once great city. Maybe best known as the second Babylon. Going down in flames would only repeat history wouldn't it? At the time though a man in his mid twenties is running down the street along with a woman that would be thought as younger but close to his age.
"Amy. Come on now. We don't have all day."
"Tommy! You ever run in heels? No? Then shut up."
Tommy only flashes a glance at her before stopping dead in his tracks to see a large deposit of bodily waste in front of him. Amy runs into his back and almost falls on her back but catches his shoulder to stabilize her.
"Tommy! What the fuck?" "Oh that is just so disgusting."
"What?"
And looking over his shoulder she sees exactly what he is looking at. Making a face of disgust she places a hand over her mouth and nose. Waving with the other hand she hails down a cab that is just avoiding the mess.
"I so can not understand this. Anyone ever think to put giant pooper scoopers under those creatures back ends?"
"Amy. Love of my life. I don't think they think about it."
"Yeah. We're just insects to them right? Or food."
"We're not going to get into this debate. We're going to miss your cousins wedding if we don't hurry."
The two hurry into the cab as Tommy gives directions to the chapel. Normally one wouldn't have to give directions but Tommy was taking two factors in mind. First off the driver may not know about the recent battle that destroyed two blocks and second was that it was a cabby's job to take the longest route.
"Getting into what debate Tommy?"
"Oh Jesus give me strength."
"No. What debate."
"The one we always have. That if some super powered types and mystical things that live here fight for some form of justice why they don't live by it."
"It's true!"
"Already my lovely paralegal. Present your case."
"You shoot a man breaking into your house. You go to trail. Someone in spandex breaks into your house and you shoot them you're the insane genius."
"When's the last time we had Captain America break into our apartment?"
"Okay. Good point. What about when a major fight breaks out. And I'm not talking about saving the world type fight. You ever see anyone from the fight stay and help clean up?"
"So what then? They should be judged?"
"Just like the rest of us Tommy."
The two continue this debate until they finally reach the chapel off of 17th and Lexington. Tommy pays the driver and also leaves a fair tip as well. Checking each other out before entering they head to the door.
"I think he was a troll."
"That's no way to talk about the man my cousin is going to marry. Cheap yes. But not a troll."
"No. The cabbie."
"Why do you say that?"
"You didn't smell that?"
"I thought you must have stepped in the mess."
"No I didn't."
Coming to the door, Tommy opens it for Amy, only to see a look of shock on her face. Tommy raises a brow and bends around to look inside. Besides the front of the chapel, the rest laid in ruin. As if torn apart from outside. Everyone else is pulling debris aside in attempts to retrieve those that are under.
"My dear god." Tommy just seems to breath out to say.
"Honey. This is just all wrong."
Amy clings to Tommy as he puts an arm around her. He could understand her response to the disarray inside until he saw some clothing of white with crimson stains to it. The clothing went under an area where large debris had fallen. There next to it was a man kneeling next to it holding a piece of the stained clothing. The man gabbed in a tuxedo seemed more broken then the structure that he was in. Tommy just looked away and held Amy tighter thinking only that the woman he was holding would have been right next to her cousin if not for their running late.
"You're right baby. You're right." Tommy whispered into her ear as tears left his eyes.
Atlanta, GA 0845
Right outside Martin Luther King Elementary School there is a protest in works. If you really want to call it a protest. More like an organized mob that is filled with anger and fear. But aren't most normally like this? Though riots are not something new to Atlanta, the Fulton County Sheriffs Department and Atlanta PD are on the scene to attempt to keep the peace. One woman is holding a loud speaker and appears to be in charge of the group.
"Is this what we want for our children? Is it? We should be able to have our sons and daughters receive an education without fear that our precious babies will not be seen on the news in a body bag!"
And to this remark by Carol Janeson the crowd roars in agreement. So many holding signs seem to give life to the objects as they moving up and down above the crowd.
"I am as tolerant as any other parent. But when it comes to something of this level then we must stand up in what we believe in. We can not and will not just stand by as the bureaucrats agree to anything in order to play the humanitarian!"
One would think that if this woman were working at getting the bloodlust in these mild mannered people's heart to swarm then she would be doing just that. It is almost as if she was working a spell over this mass. But nothing other then her own voice brings up the crowd to swell like a tsunami.
"I for one am willing to do anything to keep my little girl safe. As I am sure all of you are. In a world that is utter chaos filled with more dangers each day why do we have to give up our children's safety for one more cause?"
And as she finishes that last sentence a navy blue Sedan pulls up in front of the school. The police barricades that once separated the demonstrators from the school now lays upon the ground. The peace officers move in, as training for such acts takes over. A few palms are slapped upon the car as a well-dressed man gets out of the drivers side and an equally well-dressed woman from the passengers side exits. The woman moves over and opens the back door to allow her child out. And all of this chaos comes only from one simple thing. The child. She would appear normal enough. Wearing a white and pink laced dress with beautiful flowing raven black air. Though what does stand out about her would be reptilic like qualities on her face. Her skin being a dark green hue and only two slits where her nose would be. Now having actual eyes on the child the crowd almost does become a full riot.
"Daddy. I'm scarred. Why do these people hate me? Was I bad?"
"No sweetie. You are a good girl. My special little girl."
Two detectives that are part of the organizing force of peace officers watch on from an issued patrol car. One of them is a man of African-American heritage named John Hernandez and the other a man would be identified of Irish heritage named Carl Sullivan. The two just waited by the car, Carl sipping from the convenient store disposable coffee cup and John chewing on a cigar. Carl seemed relatively calm even with this mess coming on though John was anything but.
"This is just sad Carl. We're supposed to be one of the most advanced countries in the world and look at this. It's like what I heard of the 60's."
"They're scared John. It's part of nature. I don't agree with it but people do have the right to protest."
"And what would happen if we weren't here?"
"I know man. I didn't say I liked it. I just said I understand. Can't judge all because of a few bad apples."
"That's not what gets me Carl. What gets me is the fact all that we've achieved. Not just in this country but as a race. We have overcome so much and these people are scarred of this little girl because she's a little different."
"It's always something small that gets anything into an uproar. Chances are this kid is going to face more inner hell then any of us could ever imagine."
"Still. doesn't mean I have to like it."
With the help of the police and her parents surrounding her, the small child finally makes her way up the stairs outside of the school through a swarm of hands in her way. Numerous hateful remarks can be heard shouted among the crowd to the child, that her parents named and felt she was to them, Blessing.
"Gene joke!"
"I'll kill you before you hurt my children!"
"You parents should have saved the placenta!"
"Don't touch her! She might be contagious!"
"Why didn't they get an abortion?"
"Freak!"
"God doesn't love things like you!"
"She's disgusting!"
John can only bow his head to the comments made. He feels ashamed and angered at the same time to what he hears. Then he turns to Carl with his eyes seeming to have a flame to them.
"I know John. But what are you going to do? Fire a round in the air and make some dramatic speech? It's not going to help anything. In the movies and books the people will feel bad about it and then invite the girl and her family over for iced tea. And even if you did something brave and dramatic like that, they'd still be here tomorrow and the day after. It'd be like adding fuel to the flame."
"It's just I don't want to sit by and do nothing."
"You're not doing nothing John. You're doing your job."
"I want to do more."
"So do I buddy. But it just ain't that easy. All we can do is try and keep the peace." "Well if we can't do something then someone should be able to?"
"Like some great creature of justice? Or maybe some of those superhero types? John they got more to do then help every little girl. It's not on the top of their priorities. When it comes to things like this we can't always depend on our heroes. We have to take what we learned from those we looked up to and be the heroes ourselves. But where it counts. In our hearts."
"I know you're right. I do. But I still don't like it."
"Me too partner."
And Carl takes another sip of his coffee while John just turns the other way and calls in that the girl is safely within the building. After the protesters have made their point, most leave for their lives while a few others stay behind. And along with that some police stay behind as well. Soon this will all become routine. Day in and day out. Carl sipping his coffee and John watching and praying for the best. But for now it will be known as the worse day Blessing will ever have. And thinking of all this Carl tips his cup in the direction of Carol Janeson who is still raving on about her crusade.
"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America."
Seattle, WA 2312
A phone continues to ring and ring in a darkened apartment. There is one inside of this apartment by the name of Amy Rollinburg. Amy could barely see herself as the drapes to her apartment all seem to be closed tightly. She turned none of the lights on and the only light was save that from a cigarette. She was dressed in a rather large shirt that came down to her knees and nothing more. It was almost as if the rest of her wanted to be concealed by the shadows. And then the phone stopped ringing and the answering machine picked up.
"Amy? Amy if you're there please pick up. Amy, it's your mother. C'mon baby, please pick up. Well if you won't then I guess I'll be forced to talk to your answering machine." "You guessed it mama."
"I know you're having some tough time sweetie and your father and I are here for you. I hope you know that. We already heard about you losing your job and about Mark and you breaking up. Is it drugs sweetie? If so we'll work through this together."
"If only it were that easy mama."
"It's just no one has spoken with you for at least a week. And Mark told me it wasn't his place to say what was wrong. Said I should talk to you. Please pick up the phone sweetie. Okay. Well I'll call back. But know we lov-"
And then the answering machine hung up on Amy's mother. Amy bowed her head knowing exactly what her mother was going to say and began to cry. It would have been a heavy cry but she had been doing this for the last few days already. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers were even still so if they were bloodshot.
"I love you two guys too mama. God. Why do you hate me?"
And as she cried on the cigarette burned down to the butt and died upon coming contact with her fingers and burning them. Though Amy did not realize this. There was a pain coming deep within her that now she just felt numb on the outside.
"But would you really love me mama?"
Slouching down further on the couch she was sitting on she balled up in the fetal position and looked at the coffee table in front of her with pictures scattered everywhere along with trash. Pictures of a vivid and beautiful young woman smiling brightly for the pictures. One with her and Mark holding each other. Another with her parents and her. And then she picked up one. One of her parents and Mark with her. She studied it hard as if she could will that moment of time to be replayed. There was her parents smiling so brightly with them behind Mark and Amy. In the picture Amy was a very attractive woman. She was no fashion model or movie star actress but she had a beauty of her own. With that long flowing brown hair and how those brown eyes would capture you and bring you in.
She then tossed the picture as hard as she could away from her. She would rock back and forth for some time. She wanted anything, something to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But there was nothing. Just the darkness around her and the sound of the air conditioning. Finally she stood up and went to the bathroom. Turning on the lights she squinted to the sudden burst of light. And she stood as if lost in a maze of her mind looking at the mirror. Where once long flowing hair had been was now a patchwork of hair. Parts missing to show bald spots. Her skin appeared to be covered by boils and pox. There were deep scratch marks on her face most likely from her own rage. Her lips were. Well her lips were not there. And taking a step back Amy could see what she had already seen times before in horror. The boils and pox had spread all around her body. A shaky breath was released as she looked up once more and screamed in inner pain. She thrashed her hand at the mirror and the pieces fell to the ground. Some of them impaling in her hand.
"You'd love your daughter mama. Not some goddamned freak. Not this."
She just slowly walked out of the bathroom with the light still on; bare feet stepping in the shards of glass under her. She still did not notice. But a trail of blood from the bottom of her feet trailed along as she went into the bedroom. There on the nightstand was another picture of Mark and Amy. Right next to it was her purse. She picked up the purse but paused to look at the picture.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Mark. I wanted to tell you in person but. But I didn't want you to see me like this. I love you so much Mark."
She could not cry anymore. She had done so as much as she could humanly do so. So she walked slowly out of the bedroom and sat back on the couch. She held the purse close to her and was digging around in it.
"I'll make sure you get your keys back at least."
And in the dim room a metallic sound was heard and what little light was present gleamed from the metal. She laid her head back as she just went limp for a moment. One tear began to form in her eye as she looked up to the ceiling.
"The door is unlocked so when you or mama get here you can get your keys."
And after she finished that statement an ear shattering sound exploded in the confined quarters. Amy's body began to spasm and with time would slowly stop moving altogether. But her hand clenched to the revolver would stay locked upon it. When her parents or Mark would come by they would find Amy had shot herself in the head. She would look highly disturbing to them. Though only because of the bullet wound. She now was how she appeared in the pictures that lay scattered. But this time instead of those bright brown eyes that would bring a person in they would be lifeless and staring at the ceiling. Eyes that shed one last tear that slowly fell from her face.
New York, New York 0821
This had been the second time today that Jason had found himself atop of a large building. Jason is a sick man. But it is not something that he can just have healed from his body. It is something he has to have done with his mind.
"And we find our lone honor bound mystic warrior looking down to his servants and the mere mortals below."
In the worlds eyes Jason would not be classified as a handsome man. With a pair of rather thick glasses, slightly over weight, still not having control of his acne though now is his early thirties. He had been made fun of most of his life. When he became a teenager the ridicule increased. Amazing that when someone is trying to find out who they are so many pressure their own thoughts of what you are on you.
"If these pathetic mortals had any idea that this mystic warrior could burn them in their tracks and release his demon horde they may worship him."
There could be numerous reasons for Jason to have come to this point. Lack of finding an appropriate outlet for his creative mind. Fear of any more rejection from people. Not so much in a romantic stance but of any rejection. Something might have changed the path he was now upon. Something might have made him not decide to make a "costume" with his mother's bed sheets to resemble a cape and the cheaply made sword that could not cut but would grind if he did try to cut with it. But he could find no outlet for the many workings of his mind beside escape reality.
"Will he have pity upon them? Upon these mortals that turn his stomach?"
But this was reality for Jason. He was this mystic warrior that was above the people below them in more then one way. He was handsome, daring, charming, always had a witty remark, and made people tremble with his power. This was Jason's reality.
"I say nea!"
You have to ask yourself if at some point there was something that could have been done to change his path before he came on it. Maybe if people were a little nicer to him. If he at least had more then one or two dates in his entire life. If he didn't take his cousin to the prom then sit alone while she danced with those that had fun at his expense. So many what if's.
"Fear me mortals! For I come for your souls now!"
And right at his last word he leaps from the building. The wind rushes all around him and he can see the ground under him come up fast. Though something was wrong. This was not like the reality he was expecting. Demon hordes were suppose to spring out from fiery portals and he was to land on his feet looking down to slowly look up to them with a menacing grin. But none of this was happening. All that was happening was the fact he was falling like a sack of potatoes to soon hit the paved ground under him with much impact.
Jason was actually at a loss. None of the things he thought would happen did. He especially didn't see what would happen next. A costumed figure came swooping down upon him to catch him by his cape and try and slow their speed upon hitting the ground. This costumed hero's wings began to flap even harder as he gritted his teeth to the strain of attempting to save Jason's life.
"Off me heavenly angel! You shall not falter my plans. The time of darkness is at hand."
"Oooookay."
And this costumed one felt the speed of their decent slow while they came closer and closer to the ground below. With a slow fluttering of his wings he had just dropped Jason only two feet from the ground. He really did not know how to react to what Jason was saying. So he didn't.
"I challenge you! Defend your honor curd!"
Jason jumped to his feet and grabbed the "blade" with both hands. He swung blindly and rather sadly but it appearing as if he were trying to mock a barbarian like movie scene or from a fantasy book. But as Jason had said this the winged hero had already flown off. He seemed in rage that this one to falter his plans would leave. Especially seeing he had officially challenged him. Doesn't he know that is not how things are supposed to work? Jason just thought he must have lost his sanity.
"Yes. Run away. I have better things to attend to then to battle a slow witted being that has lost his bearings of mind."
And a man behind Jason sitting at the bus stop looked over to him raising his brow. This other man had short blonde hair, brown eyes, stood to actually be rather bulky. Though he was not all muscle to his mass. Much like that of a former athlete that is now feeling the years finally catch up to him. He was dressed in a fairly comfortable suit that was the normal fashion of dress down for the office environment.
"Aye. Soon these mortals will be praying to me."
The man sitting down, Tony Kurtz, would normally just look the other way and think the normal thing any other person in New York would. But something in him actually felt compelled to say something. He knew it was known of his business but seeing what just happened he felt compelled to say something.
"You okay buddy?"
Jason bolted around to look at an actual person that was speaking to him. This didn't seem right. He normally spoke and then they spoke to him. And in the manner or way he would expect them to.
"It is not your place to ask mortal. If you knew the power I possessed you would shake in terror."
"Right. Terror."
Tony just rolled his eyes and they fluttered in annoyance. He just got Jason started up. Jason went on and on about the power he held and the vast empire he had created. That soon this world would be under his rule and he would decide who would or would not live. That depending on his whim at the time. Tony would look at the time and mumble a curse to why he didn't just take a cab. Then as Jason was "demonstrating" his power to Tony, he knocked the coffee Tony was holding in his hand with the "blade".
"What the fuck man?"
"You dare speak so bol-"
"Will you just shut the fuck up? God. Get a fucking life brother. You're not some mystic whatever. You're a guy wearing a bed sheet on your back and holding what looks like a carved up stick with some stuff from an arts and crafts store around it to make it look shiny."
Jason was actually at a loss for words. Couldn't this mortal see what he was facing? He must be mad. That or he had a death wish. Jason thought about eating his soul right there and then but felt dizzy while this man spoke.
"You are a sorcerer I see. Very ingenious of you as well mage. Distracting me as you work your spell."
"Oh you have to be shitting me? I'm a guy that is about to head to work in a small cubical and punch his eight hours or more in then go home and watch TV. Yeah there's some weird shit that goes around this place but get a life buddy. The only thing you are is some guy that can't get the idea of what's real or not. I swear there are more nut jobs in this city everyday."
The bus finally pulls up as Jason just stands there as if lost. He seems to be staring off in space to the words that were spoken to him. Mom would have lunch ready soon. Then he had to pick up the newest models of the black chrono ork slasher elf up. Mom? He was spawned from the earliest reaches of a fiery pit. And the black chrono ork slasher elves were those he changed into his demon horde.
"Look. You need some help buddy. Get to a shrink or some med or something. Next time you jump from a building you may not be lucky enough to have one of them superhero types come along."
Tony didn't know what else to say. He just got onto the bus and sat down. He actually felt pretty bad for coming down so hard on the guy. But he was frustrated hearing Jason go on and on about the nonsense. Tony felt there were more important things to think about rather then playing in some make believe world.
"I am the mystic warrior of legends."
And as the bus drove off Jason just stared into space. There were a lot of factors to take into thought. The fact that some many unusual beings and those gifted with powers did seem to populate this place densely probablely didn't help matters. But it would have only been a matter of time. A matter of time when he would day dream even more of the world he wanted to live in rather to be stuck at a midnight shift stocking groceries at the super market. Or it would come about when he was fighting with his mother when she wanted the certain types of the rules of house to be followed and he felt being talked down to seeing he was an adult. Or maybe it would come about when he would watch TV or be on the Internet fantasizing over some fictional work. It could have come about a many number of ways. But right now he started to get a brief idea where he was and what was happening. He felt small again. He felt as if he were nothing once more. Just plain ol' Jason Yasim. A man dressed in a bed sheet and holding a piece of wood that was decorated and feeling depressed. But soon enough he would be that powerful mystic warrior with the demon horde again. And soon he would take over this world and add it to his own realm.
1421 Washington DC
A rather well built man in a suit comes to an office building overlooking the capital. He seemed almost so white bread. Clean cut and apple pie. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a strong square jaw. And if you just add onto all of this the fact he looks like a man that is fairly well off on the financial scale you'd say this guy is the American dream come to life.
He headed into the building and waited in line at the metal detector. Pulling out his keys and any loose change he seemed in fair spirits. He just was coming back to lunch with a few good friends that were close to his same social status. Placing the keys and change in a small plastic bowl he moves through the metal detector and then gathers his belongings.
While waiting he actually looks around to the main entrance of the building. It was fairly impressive, what with the large pictures of former presidents and the neo Roman architecture. But knowing he still had work to do he went to his office. It was on the top floor and the windows gave a grand view of the city. Every time he looked outside an inner pride for his country came out. How privileged and grateful he was to live here and also know he was doing his part.
"I hope you had a good lunch Mr. Rogers. We still have to organize the press conference, check on the charity dinner for tomorrow, and finish with all the mail."
The woman speaking was his assistant, Margo Turner. He would never call this woman his secretary. The reason why is because he knew there was no way he could keep up with everything if not for her. Margo was one of those women that had a mind of her own and could be anal when it came to work. Yes. She is a workaholic. Not that you couldn't tell from one pen sticking in her red hair, the one hanging from the top of her ear, and the one in her hand. She just barely looked up from those wire-rimmed glasses at her boss as emerald eyes gave him a look due to his late lunch.
"Whoa there Margo! You know the lunch meetings take some time."
"That doesn't mean you have to take all day with them."
"Yes ma'am!"
"Smartass."
And as good old Mr. Rogers starts to head from the outer part of the office to the next one that attaches to his own he sighs looking at all the mail that has come in. Taking the bag up with one hand he just shuffle through the inside.
"Oh. Is this it?"
"The rest is in storage."
"Great. Well the people should be responded to. I'll take this bag in and start going through it."
Margo was about to comment what should be the priorities of the afternoon but she just let it go. So Mr. Rogers took the bag within his office and sat down behind the old oak desk with an old battle worn Continental American flag behind him preserved by the framing of it. As he was about to blindly take one out something caught his eye. It was a letter written in crayon. And actually looking directly on it he grabs it first. A slight smile turns on his face, as he was someone that had a love of children. Not that he ever had one; they still held a soft spot in his heart for them. Reading it aloud he starts with the envelope first and then opens it.
Timmy Goodwin 357 Bakers St Alexander, MA
Capen America 100 Main Ave washenton dc
Dear Capen America,
Hi. I am Timmy Goodwin. You are my favorite hero. I want to be like you. I am 8. I have a dog. He is Pepper. I love him. I would like to meet you. But I cant. I am sick. Can you write back?
Love, Timmy Goodwin
He smiled as he read the letter until he got to the point of Timmy being sick. Inside was another letter that was written by his mother. It was fairly to the point and spoke that Timmy had a blood disorder. Mr. Rogers face grimaced as she went into the horrid details what Timmy goes through and that every time something on the news or in the newspaper had an appearance of Captain America he would eagerly come to watch or read it. Mrs. Goodwin also made a special note to point out that at this point they didn't expect Timmy to be with them too much longer. That by the sixth is when the doctors said Timmy would most likely be in critical condition and that she and her husband would not allow Timmy to be in pain and on life support just to die slowly crying all the time as the pain would increase.
It didn't take Mr. Rogers long to make up his mind on this. Having the letter in hand he walked out of his office in slight a hurry. He was gathering some items in the outer office and spoke to Margo over his shoulder. When she raised an inquisitive brow to his actions he laid the letter on her desk.
"I have to get up there now Margo. I know we have a lot to get done and I'm sorry for just throwing all of this on you but I have to do this."
Finishing the letter she took off her glasses. She looked down upon her desk filled with papers and office supplies then slowly looked up to protest the fact with his leaving.
"I know what you're going to say Margo. But to hell with the meetings. I know my being there won't change anything but it's something I have to do."
"But Steve. You don't understa-"
"Look. We set up this office not as another bureaucratic factory but as something to help the people. To do more then fight the bad guys and flex."
And as Steve Rogers made sure he was not missing anything he caught Margo's eyes. Something deep and reflective in them. As if she knew what was about to be said but dreaded it.
"Steve. It's the seventh."
"What?"
"It's the seventh Steve."
"But. How? I mean."
"You remember? Yesterday there was that 'emergency' you had to take care of. You weren't even able to make it to the office."
"But I."
But he couldn't find anything to answer that with. He just stood there holding a brief case with items stuffed into it and had no response. He could save the world numerous time. Stop the mad men and women from ruling the world. Fight off an invasion from aliens. But he was at a loss for not being able to grant a little boy his dream. A simple dream. One that had to do with his hero. The American dream. Mom and apple pie. One that had to do with Steve Rogers. Captain America. A man that was too busy to visit Timmy Goodwin.
Chicago, IL 1247
Lunchtime. A time when people can take a break from work, forget about all their worries of work for a short time, and pack their stomachs. But this was a lunchtime that family could be together. These two are Patrick and Tammy McTavish. A brother and sister poking fun at each other's short comings and poking their noses in where they don't belong.
"Pat. I'm beginning to worry you might be gay."
"What?"
"I haven't seen you around a woman for. Hmm. A long time now."
"I'm just being careful."
"Of?"
"I want to find the right person this time."
"Amazing how you said person."
"Oh you piss me off so much some times."
"That's what family is for."
Tammy knows that she is getting to Patrick. And if you asked her, that would be part of her job. Her other is as a homicide detective for Chicago's finest. She kept her long flowing blonde hair up almost all the time. She is an attractive woman. Pouty full red natural lips, a petite figure, and how her coworkers put it, everything right where it's supposed to be. She didn't mind the attention. She got used to it and didn't let it make her think she was better than anyone else.
Funny thing about Patrick is that he would be her contrast. A rather large and bulky man with large shoulders and short cut dirty blonde hair. He has rather strangely thin lips and a few mismarked scars here and there. Pat took on a different career then Tammy. He became a fireman. But the two shared one thing in common. They both wanted to help people.
"So you ask me out to lunch just so you can nose around my love life?"
"No. That's not it. Honestly I just wanted some time with my little brother. We don't get that much time to hang out."
"Story of our lives. Speaking of love lives. How's Denis doing?"
"Good question."
"Holy shit Tam. I should be asking you what the flavor of the day is instead of a guys name."
"I'm not that bad."
"You're not that good either."
Tammy shoots a playful dirty look at him and throws a sweetener packet at Pat. If it was anyone else she would be tearing him or her a new asshole, but Pat was different. He was the only family she had left and he was the world to her.
"You have no idea how much I hate you."
"Don't blame your sexual frustration on me. If you'd go out more you wouldn't have to worry about it."
"I'm not sexually frustrated."
"Going to be visiting my brother with dozens of cats at his apartment soon enough." "You want me to just find some cheap piece of ass?"
"Heavens no! I have enough friends like that."
"Ohhh no you don't! Not another one of your friends."
And right as Tammy is about to make a remark about that, the building across the street spews out flames. The windows of the apartment building begin to explode due to the heat coming forth. Before Tammy can say anything to Pat, he has already run from his seat and began running across the street.
"So much for lunch." Tammy mumbles.
Tammy is soon following behind Pat as they both have one thing in mind. The people within the building. With Pat's bulking figure, he rams his shoulder into the electrically locked entrance to leave it just barely hanging from the hinges. Tammy follows in behind him scouting out the scene and notices just a little smoke so far.
"So what's the plan little brother?"
"You should have stayed outside."
"A lot I should have done. I'm here now."
"Fine. I'm going to start from the top and you on the bottom. We'll work our way to the middle to clear the people out and warn them before the department for this sector comes in."
Tammy wasn't even about to waste time talking. And Pat was sure she understood as he had already started to climb upstairs taking two steps at a time. There was the typical confusion of a fire. People asking what was going on, trying to take their personal possessions, and let us not forget the panicking. Though both Tammy and Pat being well trained in times like this handled it most well. It didn't take long for the two to finally meet up.
"You get everyone out down there?"
"Yeah. And those that didn't answer I just broke the door down and drug their asses out."
"Good."
Pat touches the last door on the floor to feel that it was warm. The smoke was beginning to become overwhelming more so to Tammy then Pat. She took a cloth she had picked up along the way and covered her nose and mouth with it. Though nothing stopped the searing burn in her eyes.
Right as Pat was about to direct her to leave with him the door exploded outward. The two fell to the ground as pieces from the door hit them. Though luckily for them the worse they would have to deal with at this point would be some pretty bad bruises and bumps the next morning.
"You okay Tam?"
But he didn't get a response from her. He shuffled over to her in great worry for his big sister and cursed his allowing her to come along. Taking a look over her he thought at first she must have suffered a concussion due to her eyes being dilated and the way they bulged as if in shock. But then following her eyes he saw exactly why she was acting so.
"Christ. Pat. You seeing what I'm seeing?"
Pat didn't answer her though. He had to question what he was seeing. The body that appeared to be a girl in her late teens was holding the charred body that couldn't even be identified and something in her other arm that would look like a small domestic animal. Though this body of the girl was still moving. It's head bowed low and flames sparking up as if to come from every pore of her body. Though what made this a living nightmare of hell was that the skin of her body appeared to be melting away as if pudding being cooked to hot.
The brother and sister entered the room with their hands raised and examined the charred body. And then looking to the girl they noticed what they could best understand was she was crying.
"Sweetie. We're here to help you." Pat said in a calming tone.
"It's my fault."
"We're not putting blame here sweetie. We just want to get you out of here before you get hurt."
"It's too late. I was mad at mama. Felix was rubbing up against me. Then I started to hurt inside. Mama came over to me. And then everything hurt everywhere."
Pat really didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to help this young woman. But he could tell that it was out of his league. This was something you called SHIELD in for or one of those mutant support groups. But it was both his and Tammy's job to help her.
"Look sweetie, it was an accident. Just because you were mad at your mother doesn't mean anyone thinks you wanted to hurt her."
"Don't you get it lady? This is my fault! I got mad and this happened."
"Well how about we go outside and we can talk about this."
Tammy was trying to talk her out. Not so much because of the young woman fueling the fire even more, but for the fact the buildings support within the apartment was beginning to buckle.
"I can't. I just can't."
Tammy was about to try and talk to her more before Pat placed a hand on her shoulder. Pointing to the girls legs it finally dawned on Tammy that it wasn't she didn't want to leave but she actually couldn't. Her legs were folded and upon first look you'd think she was just kneeling down. But upon looking closer you could see that her legs had melted together.
Pat and Tammy began to look around for something they could use to at least lift her out with. Then with a painful scream the two looked her way. As if by some higher power instructing Pat what to do next, he pushed himself and Tammy to the ground. This was a blessing because right as they did some sort of burning liquid like substance shot forth from the young woman. It appeared to be like napalm in a way though setting flame to whatever it hit, be it wood or metal.
"We're going to get you out of here sweetie. What's your name?" Pat asked still calmly.
"Rosanna."
"Alright Rosanna. We're going to get you out of here."
A creak was heard from above as the ceiling looked as if it were about to cave in where they all were. Tammy placed a hand on Pats massive shoulder pointing up and shook her head. The two at this point were well beyond frustrated. There was nothing they could do for Rosanna and time was short.
"Please. Please don't let me burn to death."
"We won't Rosanna."
Tammy instructed for Pat to follow her behind Rosanna as she just stood over her. The smoke was becoming harsh and the heat was racking at them. Tammy unholstered her firearm and aimed it at the back of Rosanna's head. A chill came over her even in this heat. Tammy's knees began to buckle and she couldn't take her eyes off the horror of this girl holding the charred body of her mother and what appeared to be her cat. She knew there was no other way. She had fired upon perps before but this was different. She took her other hand to steady her firing hand. The cloth she was holding fell upon Rosanna's head and started to convert into ashes as soon as it did.
"You won't burn to death Rosanna."
And after she had said that once more, Rosanna looked over her shoulder to look up at Tammy. Rosanna's big doe like eyes stared up at her as if pleading.
"I know you won't lady. Just. This won't hurt will it? I mean anymore then now?"
"I."
"No Rosanna. The pain will go away." Pat replied for Tammy.
Rosanna pulled what was left of what she could make of a smile to them. Then she bowed over the charred bodies of her former family. She embraced them as if she'd soon be with them again and none of this ever happened.
Tammy's jaw dropped and she was just stuck there. She couldn't do anything but look upon this hell storm scene under her. Then she almost jumped by the touch of Pat to her wrist. Their eyes met as he slowly took the firearm from her. Kissing his big sisters forehead he turned back to look down at the back of Rosanna's head.
*Click*
He heard that much from the firearm. With the hissing and cracking of the fire he didn't actually hear the weapon or off. But for a fact he did hear it charge back to fire. He wasn't even sure he felt the recoil of the weapon.
"We. We got to get out of here Pat."
Pat just nodded to Tammy. He still looked down over Rosanna and the two charred bodies. How the flames on her started to now die out but her arms were wrapped around her family still.
The two began running out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs. A squad of firefighters were coming up the stairs and the lead man stopped upon noticing Pat.
"We heard you two were still in here. Anyone else in the building or trapped?"
"No. Everyone that was in the building is free now."
Tammy and Pat made their way outside. The paramedics rushed over to do their job as they checked them over for any injuries and applied oxygen for them. Pat handed Tammy's firearm back to her as he held the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. Lunchtime. A time for a break from the norm. A time for family to be together.
A rather normal man sitting on a buildings step moistens his forehead with a water bottle on his head. The summer heat can be seen washing on the street even at this time of night.
"Yo. Trenton. Sup dog."
The one sitting looks up to see a well-built man wearing a jersey and pair of shorts. Trenton just gives a slight two finger wave then stands up and starts to stretch.
"Shouldn't be this hot at night Wes. Fucked up."
Trenton starts to walk and Wes follows along with him. Wes looks up, as a figure seems to fly past one of the buildings.
"Yo! You see that shit?"
"What?"
"Some mothafucka flying over there."
"You act like you're surprise dog. So many mutants and superhero types it ain't anything new."
"But slummin' it down here?"
"Good point."
The two move down an alley, which at the end of it exit to a basketball court. Wes lights up a Black and Mild then shakes his head.
"Seems the only time we see them type is when they are slumming. Cats don't give a fuck about us down here."
"I hear ya."
Right as the two come out of the alley they see a battle going on. One man is using the basketball courts pole to knock down some costumed figure. Both Trenton and Wes just stare with eyes wide open.
"Shit!"
"On the real! Now we gotta walk six more blocks to another court."
"Some fucked up shit."
"Wanna see how it ends out?"
"Why? They already fucked up the court."
"Aight."
The two begin to walk on though just as they're about to a vampire jumps out from the same alley they just came out from. Slowly he stalks up to them with a menacing grin.
"Going two suck you to dry."
"It's another vampire."
"Yea. Days like this I miss some cat trying to mug us. Now we got these guys around."
"Foolish mortals. You have no idea the power I possess. And soon I shall raise you two but only after feasting slowly upon you."
Trenton and Wes just watch the vampire as he continues talking, while ever slowly he walks closer and closer to them. Those fangs just barely catching the dim lighting the night. The vampire finally stops moving closer and just at that time seems as if he is about to pounce. Though right before he does both Trenton and Wes punch him in his face, which throws him off balance and he falls to the ground.
"Bitch! You ain't in the suburbs."
"They must be fighting over turf uptown again."
"I shall drink your blood after rending you two limb from limb!"
Right as the vampire leaps up to pounce once again on the two, they both remove pistols from they're pants and fire upon him. Where each round hits large gaping holes are made. Wes fires again blowing out both the vampire's kneecaps. The vampire falls face first onto the ground yet still tries to come after them. Grasping at the ground he slowly crawls his way to them.
"Some mothafuckas."
"Ah'd say these guys are almost as bad as the crack heads."
"'Bout the same dog."
While the two continue to talk the vampire almost has reach of Trenton's ankle, though Trenton just moves it out of the way. With his foot in the air he rams it down on the back of the vampire's head. The vampire flings his arm attempting to grasp Trenton. Then Trenton looks towards Wes, and Wes responds with a shrug.
"You can not kill me with you weapons. I shall come after you and your family. Though I will save you two for last. I shall watch as I drain them oh so slowly."
"Hey. Bitch. You guys die by decapitation right? What you think would happen if I shot you face blank if our rounds bust you open that far away?"
"Wha-?"
Trenton releases a single round as the vampire's head explodes from the impact of the round. Soon after his body begins to crumble around him. Trenton squints his eyes then begins to pad off the mess.
"You believe this shit. Need to get a shower dog or I'm goin' to be smellin' like this fuck all night."
"Aight."
"Fucks like that just make thin's fucked up for the rest of us. You know I got my last kicks messed up by some gnome or elf or whatever it was two weeks ago?"
"At Tyana's Bar-B-Q?"
"Yea. Squash that shit anyway. Let's get back dog."
New York, New York 14:51
And across the other end of the country is what is left of a once great city. Maybe best known as the second Babylon. Going down in flames would only repeat history wouldn't it? At the time though a man in his mid twenties is running down the street along with a woman that would be thought as younger but close to his age.
"Amy. Come on now. We don't have all day."
"Tommy! You ever run in heels? No? Then shut up."
Tommy only flashes a glance at her before stopping dead in his tracks to see a large deposit of bodily waste in front of him. Amy runs into his back and almost falls on her back but catches his shoulder to stabilize her.
"Tommy! What the fuck?" "Oh that is just so disgusting."
"What?"
And looking over his shoulder she sees exactly what he is looking at. Making a face of disgust she places a hand over her mouth and nose. Waving with the other hand she hails down a cab that is just avoiding the mess.
"I so can not understand this. Anyone ever think to put giant pooper scoopers under those creatures back ends?"
"Amy. Love of my life. I don't think they think about it."
"Yeah. We're just insects to them right? Or food."
"We're not going to get into this debate. We're going to miss your cousins wedding if we don't hurry."
The two hurry into the cab as Tommy gives directions to the chapel. Normally one wouldn't have to give directions but Tommy was taking two factors in mind. First off the driver may not know about the recent battle that destroyed two blocks and second was that it was a cabby's job to take the longest route.
"Getting into what debate Tommy?"
"Oh Jesus give me strength."
"No. What debate."
"The one we always have. That if some super powered types and mystical things that live here fight for some form of justice why they don't live by it."
"It's true!"
"Already my lovely paralegal. Present your case."
"You shoot a man breaking into your house. You go to trail. Someone in spandex breaks into your house and you shoot them you're the insane genius."
"When's the last time we had Captain America break into our apartment?"
"Okay. Good point. What about when a major fight breaks out. And I'm not talking about saving the world type fight. You ever see anyone from the fight stay and help clean up?"
"So what then? They should be judged?"
"Just like the rest of us Tommy."
The two continue this debate until they finally reach the chapel off of 17th and Lexington. Tommy pays the driver and also leaves a fair tip as well. Checking each other out before entering they head to the door.
"I think he was a troll."
"That's no way to talk about the man my cousin is going to marry. Cheap yes. But not a troll."
"No. The cabbie."
"Why do you say that?"
"You didn't smell that?"
"I thought you must have stepped in the mess."
"No I didn't."
Coming to the door, Tommy opens it for Amy, only to see a look of shock on her face. Tommy raises a brow and bends around to look inside. Besides the front of the chapel, the rest laid in ruin. As if torn apart from outside. Everyone else is pulling debris aside in attempts to retrieve those that are under.
"My dear god." Tommy just seems to breath out to say.
"Honey. This is just all wrong."
Amy clings to Tommy as he puts an arm around her. He could understand her response to the disarray inside until he saw some clothing of white with crimson stains to it. The clothing went under an area where large debris had fallen. There next to it was a man kneeling next to it holding a piece of the stained clothing. The man gabbed in a tuxedo seemed more broken then the structure that he was in. Tommy just looked away and held Amy tighter thinking only that the woman he was holding would have been right next to her cousin if not for their running late.
"You're right baby. You're right." Tommy whispered into her ear as tears left his eyes.
Atlanta, GA 0845
Right outside Martin Luther King Elementary School there is a protest in works. If you really want to call it a protest. More like an organized mob that is filled with anger and fear. But aren't most normally like this? Though riots are not something new to Atlanta, the Fulton County Sheriffs Department and Atlanta PD are on the scene to attempt to keep the peace. One woman is holding a loud speaker and appears to be in charge of the group.
"Is this what we want for our children? Is it? We should be able to have our sons and daughters receive an education without fear that our precious babies will not be seen on the news in a body bag!"
And to this remark by Carol Janeson the crowd roars in agreement. So many holding signs seem to give life to the objects as they moving up and down above the crowd.
"I am as tolerant as any other parent. But when it comes to something of this level then we must stand up in what we believe in. We can not and will not just stand by as the bureaucrats agree to anything in order to play the humanitarian!"
One would think that if this woman were working at getting the bloodlust in these mild mannered people's heart to swarm then she would be doing just that. It is almost as if she was working a spell over this mass. But nothing other then her own voice brings up the crowd to swell like a tsunami.
"I for one am willing to do anything to keep my little girl safe. As I am sure all of you are. In a world that is utter chaos filled with more dangers each day why do we have to give up our children's safety for one more cause?"
And as she finishes that last sentence a navy blue Sedan pulls up in front of the school. The police barricades that once separated the demonstrators from the school now lays upon the ground. The peace officers move in, as training for such acts takes over. A few palms are slapped upon the car as a well-dressed man gets out of the drivers side and an equally well-dressed woman from the passengers side exits. The woman moves over and opens the back door to allow her child out. And all of this chaos comes only from one simple thing. The child. She would appear normal enough. Wearing a white and pink laced dress with beautiful flowing raven black air. Though what does stand out about her would be reptilic like qualities on her face. Her skin being a dark green hue and only two slits where her nose would be. Now having actual eyes on the child the crowd almost does become a full riot.
"Daddy. I'm scarred. Why do these people hate me? Was I bad?"
"No sweetie. You are a good girl. My special little girl."
Two detectives that are part of the organizing force of peace officers watch on from an issued patrol car. One of them is a man of African-American heritage named John Hernandez and the other a man would be identified of Irish heritage named Carl Sullivan. The two just waited by the car, Carl sipping from the convenient store disposable coffee cup and John chewing on a cigar. Carl seemed relatively calm even with this mess coming on though John was anything but.
"This is just sad Carl. We're supposed to be one of the most advanced countries in the world and look at this. It's like what I heard of the 60's."
"They're scared John. It's part of nature. I don't agree with it but people do have the right to protest."
"And what would happen if we weren't here?"
"I know man. I didn't say I liked it. I just said I understand. Can't judge all because of a few bad apples."
"That's not what gets me Carl. What gets me is the fact all that we've achieved. Not just in this country but as a race. We have overcome so much and these people are scarred of this little girl because she's a little different."
"It's always something small that gets anything into an uproar. Chances are this kid is going to face more inner hell then any of us could ever imagine."
"Still. doesn't mean I have to like it."
With the help of the police and her parents surrounding her, the small child finally makes her way up the stairs outside of the school through a swarm of hands in her way. Numerous hateful remarks can be heard shouted among the crowd to the child, that her parents named and felt she was to them, Blessing.
"Gene joke!"
"I'll kill you before you hurt my children!"
"You parents should have saved the placenta!"
"Don't touch her! She might be contagious!"
"Why didn't they get an abortion?"
"Freak!"
"God doesn't love things like you!"
"She's disgusting!"
John can only bow his head to the comments made. He feels ashamed and angered at the same time to what he hears. Then he turns to Carl with his eyes seeming to have a flame to them.
"I know John. But what are you going to do? Fire a round in the air and make some dramatic speech? It's not going to help anything. In the movies and books the people will feel bad about it and then invite the girl and her family over for iced tea. And even if you did something brave and dramatic like that, they'd still be here tomorrow and the day after. It'd be like adding fuel to the flame."
"It's just I don't want to sit by and do nothing."
"You're not doing nothing John. You're doing your job."
"I want to do more."
"So do I buddy. But it just ain't that easy. All we can do is try and keep the peace." "Well if we can't do something then someone should be able to?"
"Like some great creature of justice? Or maybe some of those superhero types? John they got more to do then help every little girl. It's not on the top of their priorities. When it comes to things like this we can't always depend on our heroes. We have to take what we learned from those we looked up to and be the heroes ourselves. But where it counts. In our hearts."
"I know you're right. I do. But I still don't like it."
"Me too partner."
And Carl takes another sip of his coffee while John just turns the other way and calls in that the girl is safely within the building. After the protesters have made their point, most leave for their lives while a few others stay behind. And along with that some police stay behind as well. Soon this will all become routine. Day in and day out. Carl sipping his coffee and John watching and praying for the best. But for now it will be known as the worse day Blessing will ever have. And thinking of all this Carl tips his cup in the direction of Carol Janeson who is still raving on about her crusade.
"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America."
Seattle, WA 2312
A phone continues to ring and ring in a darkened apartment. There is one inside of this apartment by the name of Amy Rollinburg. Amy could barely see herself as the drapes to her apartment all seem to be closed tightly. She turned none of the lights on and the only light was save that from a cigarette. She was dressed in a rather large shirt that came down to her knees and nothing more. It was almost as if the rest of her wanted to be concealed by the shadows. And then the phone stopped ringing and the answering machine picked up.
"Amy? Amy if you're there please pick up. Amy, it's your mother. C'mon baby, please pick up. Well if you won't then I guess I'll be forced to talk to your answering machine." "You guessed it mama."
"I know you're having some tough time sweetie and your father and I are here for you. I hope you know that. We already heard about you losing your job and about Mark and you breaking up. Is it drugs sweetie? If so we'll work through this together."
"If only it were that easy mama."
"It's just no one has spoken with you for at least a week. And Mark told me it wasn't his place to say what was wrong. Said I should talk to you. Please pick up the phone sweetie. Okay. Well I'll call back. But know we lov-"
And then the answering machine hung up on Amy's mother. Amy bowed her head knowing exactly what her mother was going to say and began to cry. It would have been a heavy cry but she had been doing this for the last few days already. Those beautiful brown eyes of hers were even still so if they were bloodshot.
"I love you two guys too mama. God. Why do you hate me?"
And as she cried on the cigarette burned down to the butt and died upon coming contact with her fingers and burning them. Though Amy did not realize this. There was a pain coming deep within her that now she just felt numb on the outside.
"But would you really love me mama?"
Slouching down further on the couch she was sitting on she balled up in the fetal position and looked at the coffee table in front of her with pictures scattered everywhere along with trash. Pictures of a vivid and beautiful young woman smiling brightly for the pictures. One with her and Mark holding each other. Another with her parents and her. And then she picked up one. One of her parents and Mark with her. She studied it hard as if she could will that moment of time to be replayed. There was her parents smiling so brightly with them behind Mark and Amy. In the picture Amy was a very attractive woman. She was no fashion model or movie star actress but she had a beauty of her own. With that long flowing brown hair and how those brown eyes would capture you and bring you in.
She then tossed the picture as hard as she could away from her. She would rock back and forth for some time. She wanted anything, something to hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But there was nothing. Just the darkness around her and the sound of the air conditioning. Finally she stood up and went to the bathroom. Turning on the lights she squinted to the sudden burst of light. And she stood as if lost in a maze of her mind looking at the mirror. Where once long flowing hair had been was now a patchwork of hair. Parts missing to show bald spots. Her skin appeared to be covered by boils and pox. There were deep scratch marks on her face most likely from her own rage. Her lips were. Well her lips were not there. And taking a step back Amy could see what she had already seen times before in horror. The boils and pox had spread all around her body. A shaky breath was released as she looked up once more and screamed in inner pain. She thrashed her hand at the mirror and the pieces fell to the ground. Some of them impaling in her hand.
"You'd love your daughter mama. Not some goddamned freak. Not this."
She just slowly walked out of the bathroom with the light still on; bare feet stepping in the shards of glass under her. She still did not notice. But a trail of blood from the bottom of her feet trailed along as she went into the bedroom. There on the nightstand was another picture of Mark and Amy. Right next to it was her purse. She picked up the purse but paused to look at the picture.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Mark. I wanted to tell you in person but. But I didn't want you to see me like this. I love you so much Mark."
She could not cry anymore. She had done so as much as she could humanly do so. So she walked slowly out of the bedroom and sat back on the couch. She held the purse close to her and was digging around in it.
"I'll make sure you get your keys back at least."
And in the dim room a metallic sound was heard and what little light was present gleamed from the metal. She laid her head back as she just went limp for a moment. One tear began to form in her eye as she looked up to the ceiling.
"The door is unlocked so when you or mama get here you can get your keys."
And after she finished that statement an ear shattering sound exploded in the confined quarters. Amy's body began to spasm and with time would slowly stop moving altogether. But her hand clenched to the revolver would stay locked upon it. When her parents or Mark would come by they would find Amy had shot herself in the head. She would look highly disturbing to them. Though only because of the bullet wound. She now was how she appeared in the pictures that lay scattered. But this time instead of those bright brown eyes that would bring a person in they would be lifeless and staring at the ceiling. Eyes that shed one last tear that slowly fell from her face.
New York, New York 0821
This had been the second time today that Jason had found himself atop of a large building. Jason is a sick man. But it is not something that he can just have healed from his body. It is something he has to have done with his mind.
"And we find our lone honor bound mystic warrior looking down to his servants and the mere mortals below."
In the worlds eyes Jason would not be classified as a handsome man. With a pair of rather thick glasses, slightly over weight, still not having control of his acne though now is his early thirties. He had been made fun of most of his life. When he became a teenager the ridicule increased. Amazing that when someone is trying to find out who they are so many pressure their own thoughts of what you are on you.
"If these pathetic mortals had any idea that this mystic warrior could burn them in their tracks and release his demon horde they may worship him."
There could be numerous reasons for Jason to have come to this point. Lack of finding an appropriate outlet for his creative mind. Fear of any more rejection from people. Not so much in a romantic stance but of any rejection. Something might have changed the path he was now upon. Something might have made him not decide to make a "costume" with his mother's bed sheets to resemble a cape and the cheaply made sword that could not cut but would grind if he did try to cut with it. But he could find no outlet for the many workings of his mind beside escape reality.
"Will he have pity upon them? Upon these mortals that turn his stomach?"
But this was reality for Jason. He was this mystic warrior that was above the people below them in more then one way. He was handsome, daring, charming, always had a witty remark, and made people tremble with his power. This was Jason's reality.
"I say nea!"
You have to ask yourself if at some point there was something that could have been done to change his path before he came on it. Maybe if people were a little nicer to him. If he at least had more then one or two dates in his entire life. If he didn't take his cousin to the prom then sit alone while she danced with those that had fun at his expense. So many what if's.
"Fear me mortals! For I come for your souls now!"
And right at his last word he leaps from the building. The wind rushes all around him and he can see the ground under him come up fast. Though something was wrong. This was not like the reality he was expecting. Demon hordes were suppose to spring out from fiery portals and he was to land on his feet looking down to slowly look up to them with a menacing grin. But none of this was happening. All that was happening was the fact he was falling like a sack of potatoes to soon hit the paved ground under him with much impact.
Jason was actually at a loss. None of the things he thought would happen did. He especially didn't see what would happen next. A costumed figure came swooping down upon him to catch him by his cape and try and slow their speed upon hitting the ground. This costumed hero's wings began to flap even harder as he gritted his teeth to the strain of attempting to save Jason's life.
"Off me heavenly angel! You shall not falter my plans. The time of darkness is at hand."
"Oooookay."
And this costumed one felt the speed of their decent slow while they came closer and closer to the ground below. With a slow fluttering of his wings he had just dropped Jason only two feet from the ground. He really did not know how to react to what Jason was saying. So he didn't.
"I challenge you! Defend your honor curd!"
Jason jumped to his feet and grabbed the "blade" with both hands. He swung blindly and rather sadly but it appearing as if he were trying to mock a barbarian like movie scene or from a fantasy book. But as Jason had said this the winged hero had already flown off. He seemed in rage that this one to falter his plans would leave. Especially seeing he had officially challenged him. Doesn't he know that is not how things are supposed to work? Jason just thought he must have lost his sanity.
"Yes. Run away. I have better things to attend to then to battle a slow witted being that has lost his bearings of mind."
And a man behind Jason sitting at the bus stop looked over to him raising his brow. This other man had short blonde hair, brown eyes, stood to actually be rather bulky. Though he was not all muscle to his mass. Much like that of a former athlete that is now feeling the years finally catch up to him. He was dressed in a fairly comfortable suit that was the normal fashion of dress down for the office environment.
"Aye. Soon these mortals will be praying to me."
The man sitting down, Tony Kurtz, would normally just look the other way and think the normal thing any other person in New York would. But something in him actually felt compelled to say something. He knew it was known of his business but seeing what just happened he felt compelled to say something.
"You okay buddy?"
Jason bolted around to look at an actual person that was speaking to him. This didn't seem right. He normally spoke and then they spoke to him. And in the manner or way he would expect them to.
"It is not your place to ask mortal. If you knew the power I possessed you would shake in terror."
"Right. Terror."
Tony just rolled his eyes and they fluttered in annoyance. He just got Jason started up. Jason went on and on about the power he held and the vast empire he had created. That soon this world would be under his rule and he would decide who would or would not live. That depending on his whim at the time. Tony would look at the time and mumble a curse to why he didn't just take a cab. Then as Jason was "demonstrating" his power to Tony, he knocked the coffee Tony was holding in his hand with the "blade".
"What the fuck man?"
"You dare speak so bol-"
"Will you just shut the fuck up? God. Get a fucking life brother. You're not some mystic whatever. You're a guy wearing a bed sheet on your back and holding what looks like a carved up stick with some stuff from an arts and crafts store around it to make it look shiny."
Jason was actually at a loss for words. Couldn't this mortal see what he was facing? He must be mad. That or he had a death wish. Jason thought about eating his soul right there and then but felt dizzy while this man spoke.
"You are a sorcerer I see. Very ingenious of you as well mage. Distracting me as you work your spell."
"Oh you have to be shitting me? I'm a guy that is about to head to work in a small cubical and punch his eight hours or more in then go home and watch TV. Yeah there's some weird shit that goes around this place but get a life buddy. The only thing you are is some guy that can't get the idea of what's real or not. I swear there are more nut jobs in this city everyday."
The bus finally pulls up as Jason just stands there as if lost. He seems to be staring off in space to the words that were spoken to him. Mom would have lunch ready soon. Then he had to pick up the newest models of the black chrono ork slasher elf up. Mom? He was spawned from the earliest reaches of a fiery pit. And the black chrono ork slasher elves were those he changed into his demon horde.
"Look. You need some help buddy. Get to a shrink or some med or something. Next time you jump from a building you may not be lucky enough to have one of them superhero types come along."
Tony didn't know what else to say. He just got onto the bus and sat down. He actually felt pretty bad for coming down so hard on the guy. But he was frustrated hearing Jason go on and on about the nonsense. Tony felt there were more important things to think about rather then playing in some make believe world.
"I am the mystic warrior of legends."
And as the bus drove off Jason just stared into space. There were a lot of factors to take into thought. The fact that some many unusual beings and those gifted with powers did seem to populate this place densely probablely didn't help matters. But it would have only been a matter of time. A matter of time when he would day dream even more of the world he wanted to live in rather to be stuck at a midnight shift stocking groceries at the super market. Or it would come about when he was fighting with his mother when she wanted the certain types of the rules of house to be followed and he felt being talked down to seeing he was an adult. Or maybe it would come about when he would watch TV or be on the Internet fantasizing over some fictional work. It could have come about a many number of ways. But right now he started to get a brief idea where he was and what was happening. He felt small again. He felt as if he were nothing once more. Just plain ol' Jason Yasim. A man dressed in a bed sheet and holding a piece of wood that was decorated and feeling depressed. But soon enough he would be that powerful mystic warrior with the demon horde again. And soon he would take over this world and add it to his own realm.
1421 Washington DC
A rather well built man in a suit comes to an office building overlooking the capital. He seemed almost so white bread. Clean cut and apple pie. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a strong square jaw. And if you just add onto all of this the fact he looks like a man that is fairly well off on the financial scale you'd say this guy is the American dream come to life.
He headed into the building and waited in line at the metal detector. Pulling out his keys and any loose change he seemed in fair spirits. He just was coming back to lunch with a few good friends that were close to his same social status. Placing the keys and change in a small plastic bowl he moves through the metal detector and then gathers his belongings.
While waiting he actually looks around to the main entrance of the building. It was fairly impressive, what with the large pictures of former presidents and the neo Roman architecture. But knowing he still had work to do he went to his office. It was on the top floor and the windows gave a grand view of the city. Every time he looked outside an inner pride for his country came out. How privileged and grateful he was to live here and also know he was doing his part.
"I hope you had a good lunch Mr. Rogers. We still have to organize the press conference, check on the charity dinner for tomorrow, and finish with all the mail."
The woman speaking was his assistant, Margo Turner. He would never call this woman his secretary. The reason why is because he knew there was no way he could keep up with everything if not for her. Margo was one of those women that had a mind of her own and could be anal when it came to work. Yes. She is a workaholic. Not that you couldn't tell from one pen sticking in her red hair, the one hanging from the top of her ear, and the one in her hand. She just barely looked up from those wire-rimmed glasses at her boss as emerald eyes gave him a look due to his late lunch.
"Whoa there Margo! You know the lunch meetings take some time."
"That doesn't mean you have to take all day with them."
"Yes ma'am!"
"Smartass."
And as good old Mr. Rogers starts to head from the outer part of the office to the next one that attaches to his own he sighs looking at all the mail that has come in. Taking the bag up with one hand he just shuffle through the inside.
"Oh. Is this it?"
"The rest is in storage."
"Great. Well the people should be responded to. I'll take this bag in and start going through it."
Margo was about to comment what should be the priorities of the afternoon but she just let it go. So Mr. Rogers took the bag within his office and sat down behind the old oak desk with an old battle worn Continental American flag behind him preserved by the framing of it. As he was about to blindly take one out something caught his eye. It was a letter written in crayon. And actually looking directly on it he grabs it first. A slight smile turns on his face, as he was someone that had a love of children. Not that he ever had one; they still held a soft spot in his heart for them. Reading it aloud he starts with the envelope first and then opens it.
Timmy Goodwin 357 Bakers St Alexander, MA
Capen America 100 Main Ave washenton dc
Dear Capen America,
Hi. I am Timmy Goodwin. You are my favorite hero. I want to be like you. I am 8. I have a dog. He is Pepper. I love him. I would like to meet you. But I cant. I am sick. Can you write back?
Love, Timmy Goodwin
He smiled as he read the letter until he got to the point of Timmy being sick. Inside was another letter that was written by his mother. It was fairly to the point and spoke that Timmy had a blood disorder. Mr. Rogers face grimaced as she went into the horrid details what Timmy goes through and that every time something on the news or in the newspaper had an appearance of Captain America he would eagerly come to watch or read it. Mrs. Goodwin also made a special note to point out that at this point they didn't expect Timmy to be with them too much longer. That by the sixth is when the doctors said Timmy would most likely be in critical condition and that she and her husband would not allow Timmy to be in pain and on life support just to die slowly crying all the time as the pain would increase.
It didn't take Mr. Rogers long to make up his mind on this. Having the letter in hand he walked out of his office in slight a hurry. He was gathering some items in the outer office and spoke to Margo over his shoulder. When she raised an inquisitive brow to his actions he laid the letter on her desk.
"I have to get up there now Margo. I know we have a lot to get done and I'm sorry for just throwing all of this on you but I have to do this."
Finishing the letter she took off her glasses. She looked down upon her desk filled with papers and office supplies then slowly looked up to protest the fact with his leaving.
"I know what you're going to say Margo. But to hell with the meetings. I know my being there won't change anything but it's something I have to do."
"But Steve. You don't understa-"
"Look. We set up this office not as another bureaucratic factory but as something to help the people. To do more then fight the bad guys and flex."
And as Steve Rogers made sure he was not missing anything he caught Margo's eyes. Something deep and reflective in them. As if she knew what was about to be said but dreaded it.
"Steve. It's the seventh."
"What?"
"It's the seventh Steve."
"But. How? I mean."
"You remember? Yesterday there was that 'emergency' you had to take care of. You weren't even able to make it to the office."
"But I."
But he couldn't find anything to answer that with. He just stood there holding a brief case with items stuffed into it and had no response. He could save the world numerous time. Stop the mad men and women from ruling the world. Fight off an invasion from aliens. But he was at a loss for not being able to grant a little boy his dream. A simple dream. One that had to do with his hero. The American dream. Mom and apple pie. One that had to do with Steve Rogers. Captain America. A man that was too busy to visit Timmy Goodwin.
Chicago, IL 1247
Lunchtime. A time when people can take a break from work, forget about all their worries of work for a short time, and pack their stomachs. But this was a lunchtime that family could be together. These two are Patrick and Tammy McTavish. A brother and sister poking fun at each other's short comings and poking their noses in where they don't belong.
"Pat. I'm beginning to worry you might be gay."
"What?"
"I haven't seen you around a woman for. Hmm. A long time now."
"I'm just being careful."
"Of?"
"I want to find the right person this time."
"Amazing how you said person."
"Oh you piss me off so much some times."
"That's what family is for."
Tammy knows that she is getting to Patrick. And if you asked her, that would be part of her job. Her other is as a homicide detective for Chicago's finest. She kept her long flowing blonde hair up almost all the time. She is an attractive woman. Pouty full red natural lips, a petite figure, and how her coworkers put it, everything right where it's supposed to be. She didn't mind the attention. She got used to it and didn't let it make her think she was better than anyone else.
Funny thing about Patrick is that he would be her contrast. A rather large and bulky man with large shoulders and short cut dirty blonde hair. He has rather strangely thin lips and a few mismarked scars here and there. Pat took on a different career then Tammy. He became a fireman. But the two shared one thing in common. They both wanted to help people.
"So you ask me out to lunch just so you can nose around my love life?"
"No. That's not it. Honestly I just wanted some time with my little brother. We don't get that much time to hang out."
"Story of our lives. Speaking of love lives. How's Denis doing?"
"Good question."
"Holy shit Tam. I should be asking you what the flavor of the day is instead of a guys name."
"I'm not that bad."
"You're not that good either."
Tammy shoots a playful dirty look at him and throws a sweetener packet at Pat. If it was anyone else she would be tearing him or her a new asshole, but Pat was different. He was the only family she had left and he was the world to her.
"You have no idea how much I hate you."
"Don't blame your sexual frustration on me. If you'd go out more you wouldn't have to worry about it."
"I'm not sexually frustrated."
"Going to be visiting my brother with dozens of cats at his apartment soon enough." "You want me to just find some cheap piece of ass?"
"Heavens no! I have enough friends like that."
"Ohhh no you don't! Not another one of your friends."
And right as Tammy is about to make a remark about that, the building across the street spews out flames. The windows of the apartment building begin to explode due to the heat coming forth. Before Tammy can say anything to Pat, he has already run from his seat and began running across the street.
"So much for lunch." Tammy mumbles.
Tammy is soon following behind Pat as they both have one thing in mind. The people within the building. With Pat's bulking figure, he rams his shoulder into the electrically locked entrance to leave it just barely hanging from the hinges. Tammy follows in behind him scouting out the scene and notices just a little smoke so far.
"So what's the plan little brother?"
"You should have stayed outside."
"A lot I should have done. I'm here now."
"Fine. I'm going to start from the top and you on the bottom. We'll work our way to the middle to clear the people out and warn them before the department for this sector comes in."
Tammy wasn't even about to waste time talking. And Pat was sure she understood as he had already started to climb upstairs taking two steps at a time. There was the typical confusion of a fire. People asking what was going on, trying to take their personal possessions, and let us not forget the panicking. Though both Tammy and Pat being well trained in times like this handled it most well. It didn't take long for the two to finally meet up.
"You get everyone out down there?"
"Yeah. And those that didn't answer I just broke the door down and drug their asses out."
"Good."
Pat touches the last door on the floor to feel that it was warm. The smoke was beginning to become overwhelming more so to Tammy then Pat. She took a cloth she had picked up along the way and covered her nose and mouth with it. Though nothing stopped the searing burn in her eyes.
Right as Pat was about to direct her to leave with him the door exploded outward. The two fell to the ground as pieces from the door hit them. Though luckily for them the worse they would have to deal with at this point would be some pretty bad bruises and bumps the next morning.
"You okay Tam?"
But he didn't get a response from her. He shuffled over to her in great worry for his big sister and cursed his allowing her to come along. Taking a look over her he thought at first she must have suffered a concussion due to her eyes being dilated and the way they bulged as if in shock. But then following her eyes he saw exactly why she was acting so.
"Christ. Pat. You seeing what I'm seeing?"
Pat didn't answer her though. He had to question what he was seeing. The body that appeared to be a girl in her late teens was holding the charred body that couldn't even be identified and something in her other arm that would look like a small domestic animal. Though this body of the girl was still moving. It's head bowed low and flames sparking up as if to come from every pore of her body. Though what made this a living nightmare of hell was that the skin of her body appeared to be melting away as if pudding being cooked to hot.
The brother and sister entered the room with their hands raised and examined the charred body. And then looking to the girl they noticed what they could best understand was she was crying.
"Sweetie. We're here to help you." Pat said in a calming tone.
"It's my fault."
"We're not putting blame here sweetie. We just want to get you out of here before you get hurt."
"It's too late. I was mad at mama. Felix was rubbing up against me. Then I started to hurt inside. Mama came over to me. And then everything hurt everywhere."
Pat really didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to help this young woman. But he could tell that it was out of his league. This was something you called SHIELD in for or one of those mutant support groups. But it was both his and Tammy's job to help her.
"Look sweetie, it was an accident. Just because you were mad at your mother doesn't mean anyone thinks you wanted to hurt her."
"Don't you get it lady? This is my fault! I got mad and this happened."
"Well how about we go outside and we can talk about this."
Tammy was trying to talk her out. Not so much because of the young woman fueling the fire even more, but for the fact the buildings support within the apartment was beginning to buckle.
"I can't. I just can't."
Tammy was about to try and talk to her more before Pat placed a hand on her shoulder. Pointing to the girls legs it finally dawned on Tammy that it wasn't she didn't want to leave but she actually couldn't. Her legs were folded and upon first look you'd think she was just kneeling down. But upon looking closer you could see that her legs had melted together.
Pat and Tammy began to look around for something they could use to at least lift her out with. Then with a painful scream the two looked her way. As if by some higher power instructing Pat what to do next, he pushed himself and Tammy to the ground. This was a blessing because right as they did some sort of burning liquid like substance shot forth from the young woman. It appeared to be like napalm in a way though setting flame to whatever it hit, be it wood or metal.
"We're going to get you out of here sweetie. What's your name?" Pat asked still calmly.
"Rosanna."
"Alright Rosanna. We're going to get you out of here."
A creak was heard from above as the ceiling looked as if it were about to cave in where they all were. Tammy placed a hand on Pats massive shoulder pointing up and shook her head. The two at this point were well beyond frustrated. There was nothing they could do for Rosanna and time was short.
"Please. Please don't let me burn to death."
"We won't Rosanna."
Tammy instructed for Pat to follow her behind Rosanna as she just stood over her. The smoke was becoming harsh and the heat was racking at them. Tammy unholstered her firearm and aimed it at the back of Rosanna's head. A chill came over her even in this heat. Tammy's knees began to buckle and she couldn't take her eyes off the horror of this girl holding the charred body of her mother and what appeared to be her cat. She knew there was no other way. She had fired upon perps before but this was different. She took her other hand to steady her firing hand. The cloth she was holding fell upon Rosanna's head and started to convert into ashes as soon as it did.
"You won't burn to death Rosanna."
And after she had said that once more, Rosanna looked over her shoulder to look up at Tammy. Rosanna's big doe like eyes stared up at her as if pleading.
"I know you won't lady. Just. This won't hurt will it? I mean anymore then now?"
"I."
"No Rosanna. The pain will go away." Pat replied for Tammy.
Rosanna pulled what was left of what she could make of a smile to them. Then she bowed over the charred bodies of her former family. She embraced them as if she'd soon be with them again and none of this ever happened.
Tammy's jaw dropped and she was just stuck there. She couldn't do anything but look upon this hell storm scene under her. Then she almost jumped by the touch of Pat to her wrist. Their eyes met as he slowly took the firearm from her. Kissing his big sisters forehead he turned back to look down at the back of Rosanna's head.
*Click*
He heard that much from the firearm. With the hissing and cracking of the fire he didn't actually hear the weapon or off. But for a fact he did hear it charge back to fire. He wasn't even sure he felt the recoil of the weapon.
"We. We got to get out of here Pat."
Pat just nodded to Tammy. He still looked down over Rosanna and the two charred bodies. How the flames on her started to now die out but her arms were wrapped around her family still.
The two began running out of the apartment and headed towards the stairs. A squad of firefighters were coming up the stairs and the lead man stopped upon noticing Pat.
"We heard you two were still in here. Anyone else in the building or trapped?"
"No. Everyone that was in the building is free now."
Tammy and Pat made their way outside. The paramedics rushed over to do their job as they checked them over for any injuries and applied oxygen for them. Pat handed Tammy's firearm back to her as he held the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. Lunchtime. A time for a break from the norm. A time for family to be together.