It was a normal day in Los Angeles. But for Derek Stiles, your usual neighborhood bike courier - it wasn't. Someone wanted a package, but he didn't know what it was. He had been called and was told to bring it to Downtown, near an office building. The office building itself was sleek, with the windows recently cleaned, contrasting to the dirty streets below. Derek lowered his red & white baseball cap as he cleared his throat towards a security guard.
"Erm," Derek began, his Valley Boy accent apparent as it mingled with his native Japanese one. "Hey, uh, this is like, for a dude called Kenneth Blackwell - I think he's like, in here. Could you deliver this to 'im?"
The security guard, a man with black skin, turned his head, annoyed. "Woah, woah, woah, wait. This ain't Compton, homie. It's Downtown. I think you missed the road to South Central. It's right behind the highway." He said, pointing away.
"Look, man, this is the address they gave me. The name of the dude is like, Kenneth Blackwell."
The security guard got more angry. "There ain't no regular busta called Kessler in this motherfu-."
"But it's the address they gave me, damn it!" Derek sighed loudly, rolling his eyes.
"You picked the wrong address, fool!" The security guard shouted, getting the attention of other employees as they looked at the scene. The guard got closer to his face.
"If I see yo' punk-ass again? Yo' ass gon' learn."
He threatened Derek as he headed back to his duties. Kosuke's phone, an iPhone 5S, rang. "Shit..." He muttered in his breath. Derek glanced at the caller ID, recognizing the number as Kenneth Blackwell's. With a heavy sigh, he answered the call, trying to keep his voice steady despite the tension mounting in his chest. "Yo?"
"Is this Derek Stiles?"
"Who is this?"
"My name is Mr. Kenneth Blackwell - I suppose you're handlin' a package for me?"
Derek gritted his teeth in fear. This Kessler guy sounded like he wanted a brawl. "Listen, man, I was like, here on time. It ain't my fault that your freakin' address is wrong!"
"No no, you're where I want you to be. Be a good kid and open the box, will ya?"
"Dude, are you like, tryin' to get me booted from my job? You're such an asshole!"
"I'll pay ya a thousand dollars you can transfer back home. I know your dad left ya, and your mom is sick."
Derek opened the box, to find a sphere separated in the middle. Keeping the two parts suspended was a blue bolt of light. Derek sighed. "Alright. Box opened. Now pay up, or I'll have someone trace this call, and LAPD will bust your little-"
"See you around, Derek Stiles. All around!"
The phone went silent. He stared at the black screen, frustration warring with a sliver of unease. A thousand bucks sounded good, real good, especially with his mom's medical bills piling up. The blue bolt began to flicker as blue energy jolted through his arms, and he collapsed on his knees, yelping in pain, and panting as his vision began to blur. The security guard approached baton in his hands.
"Alright, punk. I've had enough. Hands where I can see 'em!"
Derek's panting began to turn louder, as they evolved into a loud, ear-piercing scream. A massive explosion happened as the guard, and everyone else around him were vaporized.
Derek woke up, the acrid smell of burning metal and singed hair filling his nostrils. Derek's ears rang like a hornet's nest had been kicked over inside his head. He coughed, tasting blood metallic on his tongue. Tentatively, he opened his eyes, squinting against the dust motes swirling in the air.
The once sleek office building was a smoking ruin. Shards of glass glittered accusingly on the bloodstained concrete where the security guard had stood moments ago. Derek lurched to his feet, legs shaky and vision blurry. Panic clawed at his throat. What the hell had happened? 5 minutes ago, this was Pershing Square, but now, it was a crater. A helicopter approached, its rotors spinning fast. "Hey! Get out of there! Head for the bridge at I-110!"
A ring from his phone - cracked into pieces - came to be. Derek picked it up. It was Tyler Chase, his best friend.
"Derek! Derek, are you there? Holy shit, man, what the hell just happened? I saw the explosion from my apartment! Are you okay?" Tyler's voice crackled with concern through the broken phone.
"I'm not, man..." Derek croaked. "This is pretty bad, man. Please, Ty... help me."
Tyler gulped. "Listen. Meet me at the bridge on I-110. Shit's hit the fan."
Derek closed the call and saw the full chaos. The detonation leveled seven city blocks. Seven. What remained of buildings were their skeletons made out of steel.
All of a sudden, as he approached an A/C unit, bolts of blue lightning shot from it, wobbling his body as he cried out in pain. "OW!"
He managed to concentrate it on his hands as they healed, the cut on his left palm closing up as if it never was. "What in the actual hell? I.. I should be dead now! Not living!"
Derek was walking towards the bridge. The helicopter pilot shouted through a loud-speaker. "If you're able to walk, please evacuate across the bridge to the Neon. Remain calm, emergency personnel are en route!".
All of a sudden, everything turned blue as he felt his body letting go of itself. In a flash of blue energy, his soul surged forward as a bolt of blue energy, landing near the bridge. His physical body also materialized at the same time, too. He looked around, his body shaking from fear.
"What... What the heck? For damn's sake, what's happening to me, Ty?!" Derek said as he hugged Tyler, Derek tearing up from fear.
The reunion was short-lived. Tyler pushed Derek back. "Whoa, whoa, easy there. What happened back there? And what's with the light show?"
Derek stammered, his voice laced with terror. "I, uh... I opened the package. The guy on the phone said it was for this Kenneth Blackwell dude, but there's no one like that here. Then the thing on the box I opened glowed, zapped me, and... boom! Everything went white. Now I can, uh, shoot lightning and teleport?"
Tyler's eyes widened. Teleportation on top of electricity manipulation? This was straight out of a comic book. Yet, the smoldering ruins of the office building were a harsh reminder of this very real nightmare. "Shit, just what we freaking needed. Just cross the damn bridge, man."
A massive pain blasted Derek's mind as he screamed, kneeling. Blue bolts of energy came out from his palms, unwillingly, though, as he destroyed some police cars and killed some people. "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" Derek stammered as the blue bolts came out.
Tyler saw everything away, just meters away from the cops. "Oh no, it's the terrorists! Run, man, run! C'mon! Move it! Move your ass, Derek! This whole bridge is comin' down!"
He ran across to the other side of the bridge as it collapsed below the interstate, him fainting as he fell face down. His girlfriend, Angie Thompson, came running to him, tears in his eyes. Derek could only hear her cries as he drifted to unconsciousness.
Oh god... Derek... Don't leave me... Please...