Fan Fiction: Superhuman Chapter 1

He finally opened his eyes and all he saw was a white light. He squinted, “Am I dead?” he asked himself as he tried to raise his hand to block the light. He realized he was laying down and was strapped to a metal table. He couldn’t move his legs, his arms, or even sit up. Confused, he began to panic and with all the force he had in him he tried to free himself.
“He’s awake!” someone shouted, the voice belonged to a woman.

He tried to follow the voice but he saw no one and then he felt it. The most agonizing pain he had ever felt. The needle broke into his skin down to the bone, he felt a cold rush of liquid through his veins. The same sharp pain slammed into his other arm, he let out a scream. The white light disappeared and was replaced by a pale face, a man with black round glasses and messy blonde hair. His lips were pressed into a firm line, “I think it’s working,” he said and suddenly everything went dark.
******

Chris gasped for air and rolled off the couch onto the floor. Dust rose into the air as he punched and cracked the wooden floorboard in frustration.

“Stupid dream,” he muttered to himself and walked to the bathroom.

Tired, he held onto the corners of the sink for balance and support. He looked into the mirror and wasn’t satisfied with the reflection that stared back at him. This was starting to become a routine every night for him. He diagnosed himself with insomnia but that was the least of his problems. Chris was only 18 years old but the stress he forced on himself made him look older. His face was covered with stubbly facial hair that hid his light skin complexion. The hair on his head was beginning to curl, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had cut his hair. After criticizing every little thing he felt insecure about he started the shower and jumped into the hot water and just stood there with his eyes closed. He rubbed his hands across his large chest barely feeling his heartbeat. He rubbed his hands to the center of his arms and felt the scars and sighed. It all brought back so many memories that were impossible to forget, this was his life and he knew he couldn’t change it.

He dried himself off and started getting dressed when he first heard her. She screamed in pain and he sensed her fear. He closed his eyes and saw her, she was in an alley on Greene Street. Chris pulled his black hoodie over his head and walked out onto the fire escape and up to the roof. He jumped from building to building gaining more speed with each leap and stride until he reached his destination. The man had the young girl pinned against the brick wall in the darkest corner of the alley.

“Please. Please, don’t hurt me. Just let me go, I swear I won’t tell anyone,” she pleaded.

“Shut up,” the man demanded.

Chris slowly approached them, “Hey,” he said, “Let her go.”

The perpetrator turned away from the girl and looked at Chris, he still had the knife to her neck.

“Mind your f-cking business,” the man replied turning towards Chris. The young girl ran to the other side of the alley with nowhere else to go.

“Just let her go,” Chris said again, his voice was more stern this time.

The man started walking towards Chris with the knife raised in the air.

“Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?”

Chris chuckled and shook his head, “You don’t wanna know.”

The man charged at Chris swinging the knife  in front of him, he cut the sleeve on Chris’ sweater. Annoyed, Chris grabbed the man’s arm flipping him over in the air, the knife flew out of his hand and the young girl ran towards it and picked it up off the ground. Chris punched him one time in the face and he was knocked out cold. He picked him up and threw him in the dumpster and locked it. The girl slowly walked out of the corner with the knife still in her hand shaking and wiping the tears on her face.

“How… how did you know I was here?” she asked looking up at Chris. No answer. He was 6 foot 3 inches with a strong build but she didn’t seem intimidated. Chris kept his head down and pulled on his hoodie covering his face even more.

“Hurry up and call the cops before he wakes up,” Chris advised.

“What’s your name?” she whispered.

Chris looked at her. Her face was covered in soot, her hair a mess, her clothes ripped and torn, and a cut on her neck from the blade. Chris thought he had it rough and when he looked at her he just felt pathetic and stupid for feeling sorry for himself. He dug his hands in the pockets of his shorts and lowered his head. “You’re welcome,” he said and turned away and walked out of the alley.

“Wait!” she called after him. She started to run but once she reached the sidewalk he was already gone and disappeared into the night like he was never there to begin with.

About Natalie
Communications Major Aspiring Journalist and Stylist

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