A few hours later, I'm in bed, staring at the ceiling — embarrassed by my earlier breakdown, still replaying every moment. My head throbs; a faint ringing hums in my ears. My body aches, but it's a dull, constant reminder now.
Is this who you're meant to be?
Josh the victim — the guy who gets mugged and limps home to cry in his shower?
A voice whispers from the dark corner of my mind.
No.
My heart beats faster.
A crybaby, it sneers.
Shut up.
Blood rushes in my ears.
You're angry? Don't make me laugh. What could you even do?
Stop.
My teeth clench.
You're angry at yourself, Josh. Wake up — this is who you are. This is who you'll always be. Just a punching bag.
SHUT UP!
I jolt upright, breathing hard. My hands shake, fists clenched. The ache in my body flares again.
What are you going to do about it, Josh? the voice taunts. What can skinny, scrawny Josh do?
"I don't know," I whisper — soft, uncertain. Weak.
Revenge.
I take a deep breath and wince. Breathing hurts.
"Yeah," I whisper. "Revenge."
There's a strange calm in me now — steadier than it should be. I change into black pants and a hoodie. I should feel stupid talking to myself, but I don't. I feel clear. Focused.
I'm about to do something stupid. Something I shouldn't. But I can't stop.
I leave my room, stop by the kitchen, and grab a small knife — a safety net, something easy to hide.
I don't know what I'll do with it. I don't even know what I'm doing.
It feels like I'm watching a stranger control my body — but I know it's me.
I'm the one letting my own desires take over.
*****************************************************************************************************
I'm outside my building now, taking slow breaths as I walk down the street.
My heart's pounding. I don't know what I'm doing — just that I have to do it. I need to prove something to myself.
I'm scared. Things could go wrong. What would Steve think if he saw me right now? I probably look like an idiot, chasing some point only I care about. He'd talk me out of it, tell me I'm being a fool, that I should be glad I made it out alive. He'd be right.
I shove my hands in my pockets and quicken my pace. The street feels longer at night. I've only been walking a few minutes, but I'm already out of breath — the dull ache in my body wearing me down with each step. My ears still ringing and the dull pain behind my eyes still present
I reach the spot where it happened. The entrance to the alley where Big Nose dragged me.
Not sure what else to do, I step in. The same place. The same air. My dried puke and a few blood stains still mark the ground. I look around, then head the way he went — hoping for a clue, anything to point me somewhere.
After a few more minutes, I end up on a side street I barely recognize. I live around here, but I never go this far out. The streets feel strange, quieter than I expected. I'm a little lost — and more than a little scared. This part of the city isn't safe. I usually make it home before dark for a reason.
It's weirdly calm. Too calm. But I tell myself it's a good thing.
I take a street I vaguely know. I'm not completely lost — I still know how to get home if I need to run.
Coward. Already looking for an excuse to go back.
I keep walking anyway, just to make myself feel like I actually tried. Deep down, I know it's just that — an excuse. A reason to go home without feeling like I quit.
After a while, my nerves start to settle, and I start laughing at myself.
"What was I even thinking?" I mutter. "Was I gonna threaten the guy? Demand my phone and three bucks back? Just to feel like a man again?"
You're so stupid, I think. Relaxing a bit.
Time to go home.
I turn back, walking with a little more confidence, even a bit proud that I at least stepped outside and tried.
Ha. Did you really think you'd do anything? Come on, man. This is so stupid.
I'm not a hero. I don't have powers. I'm just a short kid pretending to be tougher than he is.
And then I feel it — a heavy hand on my shoulder.
A voice, deep and familiar, breathes against my ear.
"Hey, friend. I'm so happy we ran into each other again."
I freeze.
My stomach knots. My eyes widen as I slowly turn my head toward the sound.
There's a hand on my shoulder — but no one's there.
"What, you're not going to say hi?" the voice teases again.
And then I see it — the air next to me rippling, distorting like heat on asphalt.
"Oh, right," he says, laughter dripping from his voice. "Forgot I still had my power on."
The air twists — and he materializes behind me.
"Surprised?"
"Surprised?" Big Nose says as he slowly becomes visible behind me, his grin wide and ugly — the kind of smile a predator gives its favorite prey. He looks calm, mocking, completely sure I'm no threat.
"H-hi," I stammer, feeling cold sweat build on my back. My heart's pounding faster with every beat. My stomach drops as the realization hits: I was an idiot for coming back. The soft ringing in my ears and The dull pain behind my eyes mocking me
"Twice in one day, my dear friend? Must be fate!" He laughs — loud, unhinged, maniacal. There's a wild glint in his eyes now, something I didn't catch before. This guy isn't just dangerous — he's insane.
Fate? No, I think. Just me being stupid.
"What, you don't look happy to see me?" His voice tightens as his grip on my shoulder does the same.
I gulp. My mind races. Think. Get out of here.
"I-I am," I manage. "I'm just… surprised. I didn't know you had powers." Maybe flattery will buy me time — maybe even a way out.
He grins wider, relaxing his hold. "Pretty cool, right?"
"Yeah," I nod weakly.
"I am special," he says. "I am powerful. People like you should be grateful I even talk to you. We're chosen — meant to rule over the weak." His eyes flicker with madness. "See, the way I see it, if I ask for something, you should gladly hand it over. It's people like me who keep this city safe. We sacrifice so you can live your boring little lives, and what do we get in return? A twerp's backpack full of books and three lousy dollars!"
His voice grows louder, angrier.
Wow. This guy's gone. What did I think I could do? What did I get myself into? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"A-are you a h-hero?" I ask, my voice trembling.
His grin vanishes.
I messed up.
"Hero?" he repeats, face blank. "Do I need to be a hero to take what I deserve?" His other hand grips my hair, yanking hard enough to make me wince.
"If I wanted to, I could kill you right now," he mutters, then grins again. "But lucky for you, I am a hero. I protect and serve."
The pain in my scalp makes it hard to focus. Did he just say he's a hero?
"Please, I'm sorry. I don't have anything else. Please," I beg. The knife in my pocket suddenly feels useless. What was I thinking bringing it?
Slap!
My face twists. Blood fills my mouth. My lip's split — good thing my eyes were closed or I'd have seen stars.
"Ugh—please…" I gasp. Tears sting my eyes.
Slap! The other cheek this time. At least he's fair.
"W-why are you doing this?" I whisper, bracing for another hit.
"Because I can," he says flatly. "In the hero world, I'm nothing — not even a rank C. But here?" He grins, eyes glinting. "Here I'm a god. No one can find me, stop me, or look down on me. All those B-class heroes think they're better because they have fans, stronger powers, a higher rank. But here, I make the rules."
Oh my god. He's completely insane. Someone, please help me.
I'm too scared to speak. One wrong word, and he'll hit me again.
Think. Think. THINK. The ringing in my ears getting worse
"Please… I'll do anything. Just let me go," I beg, my voice cracking.
"'Please, please, please,'" he mocks, his laughter sharp. "I'll do anything," he mimics in a high-pitched voice.
Even through the fear, I can't help thinking — do I really sound like that?
Maybe it's the fear, maybe it's all the hits, but something inside me snaps. My brain goes quiet. Except for the constant headache, my mouth tastes of iron. I'm done.
My hand slips into my pocket, wrapping around the knife handle. Please don't let him see.
It's now or never.
I need him distracted. The ringing getting louder
"Please," I whisper again, weak and broken — which isn't hard to pull off.
"That's the problem with you people," he sneers. "You're weak. Pathetic. You rely on people like me to save you." His eyes burn with self-righteous fury. "We're the gifted ones, meant to rule ov—AGHHH!"
I thrust the knife into his stomach mid-sentence. His grip on my hair releases as he shoves me back. Blood spills over my hands as the blade slides free. Pain shoots up my spine as I hit the ground.
Damn it. Another bruise.
I scramble to my feet, heart pounding, and run.
Run. Don't look back. Just run.
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" he roars behind me. I don't turn around — I can practically feel his breath on my neck.
"STOP, YOU WORTHLESS SHIT!" he screams, closer than I expect.
I don't know where I'm going — just that I have to keep moving. The main street's ahead, maybe ten minutes from home. I can take the side streets and lose him.
How is he still running with a stab wound?
I hit the main road, lungs burning, legs screaming. I'm not built for this. I was made to sit on the couch, not sprint through dark streets from a psycho with powers.
My body's slowing down. My ribs ache. My breaths hurt. I'm running out of time.
"STOP HIM! HE JUST ASSAULTED A HERO!" Big Nose yells behind me.
Shit—he's barely ten feet away. I push myself harder, lungs burning, chest tight, every breath feeling like fire. I can't stop now. The ringing almost deafening me, my head thumps with every heartbeat
Then, out of nowhere, something descends from the sky—slow, composed, powerful. A hero. A real one. I might be saved.
She floats with grace, wrapped in a deep crimson suit with emerald accents and a black cape trimmed in green. Red Ember. The rising star of social media. The youngest to reach B-Class at just eighteen. Her power—controlling heat itself, shaping fire and energy like it bends to her will.
As she lowers, the air around me grows hot, humming with energy. Relief hits me so hard I almost sob. I can finally go home. I can forget this nightmare.
"HE—" I try to shout, but Big Nose's voice booms louder. "MS. RED EMBER! STOP HIM! HE JUST ASSAULTED A D-CLASS HERO!"
Her head snaps in my direction. Even from here, I can see her green eyes narrow, glowing against her wild red hair. Her black mask hides half her face, but her expression says enough. She's not happy.
She hovers about twenty feet up, cape whipping in the heat, arms crossed like a judge above her courtroom. Disgust flickers across her face—as if just being near us taints her.
She's not here to help me, I realize. Not after what she's just heard.
I turn and bolt again. I can only imagine how this looks: a guy in black, blood on his hands, running from a wounded "hero." Yeah… I don't exactly scream innocent right now.
"Identify yourself," she commands.
"CLASS D HERO, HAZE!" Big Nose shouts back. Then points at me "HE'S ARMED AND DANGEROUS!"
"Roger."
A moment later, a wave of heat slams into my back like a truck. I crash into the brick entrance of the alley I was aiming for. Pain explodes through me. The world spins and my headache gets worse. If she hadn't held back, I'd be dead.
Adrenaline kicks in. I stumble up and dart into the alley's shadows, lungs screaming for air. I don't know where I'm going—I just know if I stop, it's over.
Minutes—or maybe seconds—pass. My body's on autopilot. Cuts sting, my back feels like it's blistering, and I can barely think straight. Finally, I burst out onto a main road. Silence. No Big Nose. No Red Ember. I slow down, gasping, every muscle trembling.
Maybe I lost them. Maybe I'm safe.
Then I see her—descending again, calm and composed, like she's never lost sight of me.