Trial By Fire I. Zeta I

 Heroism is killing me. I used to be just like any other guy, never knowing that there was anything more than high school, college, work and then death. Even when the metahumans started appearing, it was only in my dreams that I thought I could be one. But, after more than a year of dreaming, I finally was. On that day, I felt alive for the first time in… forever? As I felt the power coursing through my body, I felt as if there was certain greatness in my future. I might have been right. There’s still time. But, after these past four months, only one thing in the future is certain. The path I am on now leads only to my death. This being a hero… it’s slowly killing me, eating away at me like a cancer.

Whoever happens to be reading this, please forgive the morbid tone. I’m only like that sometimes. Sometimes…. Sometimes is probably a good word for me. I’m like everything, “sometimes.” I go from happy to sad, sad to furious in a manner of minutes. It’s not that I’m bi-polar or anything; I’m just weird like that. I have a large group of friends, but I hate most of them, so it’s null. I do have good friends though. I may be a loner, but not that much of one. I’m about 5’9”, brown eyes, brown hair streaked with blonde. I’m on the swim team, so I’m slim, but have enough muscle on me to be called strong, at least for my size. I’ve never considered myself particularly good-looking, but my only problems with girls are social awkwardness and a complicated personality. So… yeah, I’m hopeless.   I’ve always been angry, a little chaotic, a little violent.  I’ve avoided fights best I can, but sometimes I slip a little.  I’ve hurt some people, and gotten hurt myself.  I’m goddamn smart, but not the smartest of my friends, the school, or anything like that. My closest friend prefers that I refer to him as “That Motherfucking Bastard,” and I like to joke that we have terminal laziness, because we don’t try at anything. We know it’s going to end up badly, but we don’t care. So yeah, that’s me. My name is Zeta. Not really, but it’s what I’m called, and there’s a big, fancy Z on my belt. Since I’d rather not reveal any real names, it’ll work. It’s seven in the Greek numeral system, and my superpower is– well, I’ll tell you later. It’s not important right now. What is important is that, right now I have no powers, and I’m desperately running away from a vaguely humanoid mass of fire screaming obscenities. Just kidding. Right now, I’m writing this journal to tell what happened to me– to us. You see, my friends and I are special. And not in a short bus way. We can do things most people can’t. We’re metahumans. Metahumans. The Heroes. The fucking, goddamn Heroes. Though the first showed up at the beginning of 2016, for us, it started March 4th, 2020.

It started out a normal day. It always does. In every metahuman trigger event, nobody ever says, “When I woke up, I decided to slightly deviate from my normal routine and throw myself into a pot of acid.” Wonder why that happens. So, yeah. I went to school, said hi to my friends, slept through my first few classes, and went to lunch. I was eating at a table with three other people. There was me, That Motherfucking Bastard, another old bud of mine, and a friend of a friend. I’m telling you all this, not because it’s particularly important, but to give you an idea of the setting.  Me, my close friend, an old friend, and practically a stranger.  That’s how it was, right before my old friend, and my life, went nuclear.

I’ve known the old friend since middle school. He’s considerably shorter than me, with more fat than muscle. Not really overweight, but by no means lean. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been prone to anger problems. He’s normally a chill guy, but whenever someone pisses him off, he turns all red, and goes all “HULK SMASH!” Not literally, of course. But seriously, he’s flipped tables, and made people twice his size kiss his boot. Dead serious. He’s almost as bad as me.  Almost.  So, when the friend of a friend insulted his height, TMB and I turned around and ran a few steps away. That’s probably what saved our lives.



9 thoughts on “Trial By Fire I. Zeta I

  1. Well, I like the tone of this. Very chill. Casually articulate.
    Though the narrator does go on for a bit there, rambling some. Don’t know why he would describe his build and looks for the purposes of whatever he’s writing.
    Or is that “her”? I don’t get that impression.

  2. I really like the personality that seems to have gone into the writing- with generic first person narration it’s hard to really put that into it. However, while I do like getting the description of the main character out of the way early, it seems out of place- I’d advise trying to work description more into the narrative in the future.

  3. Pingback: Trial By Fire I | There Are No Heroes

  4. Pingback: Trial By Fire I. Zeta II | There Are No Heroes

  5. I like the attitude, and the idea. The language itself gets a little hard to read because its a bit confusing. Aside from that it looks cool!

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