Superman: Dark Times

Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

"Look, up in the sky. It's a bird, it's a plane, it's Superman!"

Yes, it's Superman, strange visitor from another planet. Superman, who can bend steel in his bare hands, change the course of mighty rivers, and who disguised as Clark Kent, a reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper, fights a never ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way.

That is what it says on the 1950's TV show, but where is Superman? In the times we live in, we need him more than ever, but that may never happen because he is a figment of our imagination. However, what if that was to change?

Chapter 1: Hero

They say I am like a god. They say that I can do almost anything. I can bend steel in my bare hands. I can see through walls. I can shoot fire out of my eyes. I have steel skin. I can fly. I can regenerate under the sun's rays. They are right about my powers, but as for my origin and weakness, that's another story.

What's this about kryptonite? What the hell is kryptonite? Were the makers of the comic trying to sound smart? As for being from another planet, they might be right. I'm not even sure if I am human. I'm also AMAZED at how dumb the people in the comic book are. His disguise is a pair of glasses! Glasses! Even Lex Luthor can't tell it's him, and he is a genius!

I have lived on this world for many years. I go to places where my power is needed most, where no one will notice. Third world countries, inner city neighborhoods, those type of places. In these spots, I don't have to worry about media attention. Every time I demonstrate my powers to criminals, they foolishly try to fight back. I guess that is why they are called criminals, taking advantage of the weak and innocent and are unwilling to give up their power.

I don't know why people do the things they do. They lie, cheat, steal, and even kill for money, fame, and power. Some men kill just for the fun of it. Sometimes I find myself disgusted by mankind, other times I want to relate to them more. Because of my powers, I was afraid of what people might think of me. Besides, this isn't a comic book, so people won't be so understanding. Some might see me as a freak, others might try to exploit me, and the people in Washington D.C. might see me as a threat and try to kill me. Why am I being so pessimistic, you ask? Because I have been down that road before.

One year ago…

Just seconds ago, I was in orbit, listening in on immediate crimes on Earth. As I close my eyes, I try to home in on distress calls. I shut everything out, homing in on the most immediate threat. My eyes spring open as I am filled with excitement, but also fear. This fear tells me that if I don't make it in time, someone might die.

I stand outside of a warehouse in Sicily. I look down at myself, seeing my white Superman t-shirt with tight blue jeans and red sneakers. My t-shirt is filled with bullet holes after fighting some rebels in Africa. I examine the warehouse and it is just as I feared. Cocaine, and lots of it. I look at the back of the warehouse, and that is where I see the girl. It's always a girl that gets kidnapped by drug lords. I walk into the warehouse, and one of the henchmen stop me. He is wearing a white suit with a purple shirt and white shoes. He reaches for the gun in his jacket, and then motions for me to take a hike. Being the rebel that I am, I decide to ignore his warning and keep walking toward the back of the warehouse. The man in the white suit steps right in front of me, putting the muzzle of the gun right by the side of my head, threatening to shoot me. I snatch it from him and smash it with my bare hand. The man throws a punch, but he hurts his hand on my face. He then decides to do the smart thing (finally) and run away. With no time to lose, I dart into the room in the back with super speed, then use heat vision to cut the ropes. The girl appears to be in her early twenties, wearing a pink dress and has shoulder length hair. Just as I am about to escort her out of the room, someone else steps in.

The man is very tall, around 6'7, and is bald. He has hazel eyes and wears a very expensive, black Giorgio Armani suit. He points a gun at the two of us as his other hand sticks out. "She is mine," says the man. "We are holding her for questioning. She will make me rich beyond imagining." I try to humor him into letting her go free and taking me instead. The big man then snaps his fingers, calling in more of his cronies. They all wear expensive suits and hold machine guns in their hands. "Here is an idea. My men are going to shoot you dead while we take the girl elsewhere."

I got tired of waiting. I used heat vision to destroy their weapons. The big man gets frustrated, thinking that the guns probably backfired. Yeah, keep thinking that. "Don't just stand there, you idiots! Kill him!" The cronies take out close range weapons, such as knives and brass knuckles. They charge at me, so I backhand one of the thugs into the others. Three of them decide to jump me at once, so I throw one of them to the far side of the room, and the other two out the door. The big man looks at me, as if he means to melt my face with his unholy glare. "If you want something done right…"

The big man grabs his knuckles and cracks them. He makes a confident smirk and readdresses me. "My name is Falcone. I am the man who will kill you. Tell me your name, stranger." This guy actually sounded like a warrior, but he's nothing of the sort. Real warriors don't pick on the weak and helpless. No man with any sort of pride would treat a woman like this. "I don't have a name. All you need to know is that you will rot in prison."