What does the word Super bring to mind? To most it entails being special, important, better than everyone else and I would would agree. My generation craved this feeling of superiority, or being special and do you know why? Because all our lives, we were told by our parents, by our teachers, by ourselves that we were special, we were important, the main character of our own story if you would. It was only later in life once the veil of childhood had been lifted that the cruelty of adulthood and the reality of the world set in that I realized, it was all a lie. Sure, we were all special, but there was always someone better.
Athletes? Who cares, I could name off the top of my head ten men or women who could run miles in less than thirty seconds and they were not even the fastest. Flying, some did that too. Strength? I watched a video of a man throw a building with his mind. This was the world of the Supers and I am certainly not a Super in anything. What were we to do, facing such insurmountable barriers? Even if we had Superpowers, there were tiers dividing the weak from the strong. It was referred to as Rank and they went by magnitudes of ten.
We desired it so much so that we would live vicariously through games, books, movies, anything that we could personify ourselves as the hero, the savior. It got to the point where we idolized the very heroes who crushed our dreams to begin with. Really, not such a bad thing considering that they fight Super Villains, who want to destroy the world, but I will get to that later. There was another route, hatred. There were those who resented the Supers for being gifted, for being special and better than they ever would be through hard work alone.
They were simply jelly and wouldn’t get over it. It was not fair, they would complain. Well, unfortunately life isn’t fair. Never has been, never will be. Survival of the fittest, though it has been repressed by our advancements, it is there always waiting, running things in the background. At some point, we have to realize there is somebody out there who will be stronger, faster, smarter, better in every way and that person is probably going to bone the living shit outa some other superior being and guess what? They will have a child and it will ninety nine percent of the time be in the top ten percent of rattatas. Eh, wait that is Pokemon. Same difference, it still applies.
Even I am no exception to this. What have I done to deal with this soul crushing realization? I gave up on the real world. I can’t be Super out there, but I can be my own hero playing games and slaying the evil demon lord to save all the peoples. Well, let’s be technical here. I could theoretically get powers, if I, A. Throw myself into a vat of mystery goo, B. Get super rich and buy cool shit from people with super powers, I sure as hell was not C. Born with it, or D. Got struck by cosmic rays from outer space, or E. Get mauled by a radioactive Subhuman monster, least appealing on the list by the way.
Did I mention Subhumans before? I guess I didn’t, did I? They are the freaks, the monsters, the failed Supers and unfortunately with how radioactive the Slums were, there were a lot of them running around down there. Dangerous is what they were. Every month they made the news, running wild and killing people with the full moon. Makes me very happy I live on the opposite side of the city. Glitter Kitten would be the most famous. Super Villain stripper, that is right, a Stripper. Now, the thought might occur, ‘Who the fuck would go to a strip club run by animal people?’ a lot of people, actually. I think it has something to do with the fact that she has six boobies.
One bite, one misstep in toxic sludge and bam, slum city if you looked like a freak. And that is why I don’t leave the house any more. The risks of obtaining super powers far outweighed the reward. Not to say it is not tempting. The problem is, the odds were just not very high that something good would come of it. I am content with my games, movies, tv shows, manga, comics, and anime. It is taking up so much time, I don’t have any to be getting into trouble. I learned life should be enjoyed and so, I just don’t give a damn. Of course I am not a productive member of society and probably shouldn’t be giving life lessons. Having a job is a very fulfilling thing or it can be soul grinding and reduce you to being a zombie, but hey, if you are dead, then you don’t gotta eat right? Me, I am mooching off my parents. Hypocritical? Maybe, don’t judge me. There are crazy people out there who could kill me with their pinky finger. So, why would I go outside?
I made a minimal amount of money doing what I loved, playing games. How? I streamed on Twitch chat. It also really helped that I did not have any real expenses. I don’t know what the fuck I would do if I had any real bills. For the most part my followers were nice? Creepy is more like it. It was right up my alley, they liked weird perverted stuff, I liked weird perverted stuff. So while I played we would talk and they would occasionally throw me some donations if I dressed up or they bribed me to do something really stupid in game. All in all, it was very fun. Not very productive though.
One of my major hobbies was surfing the web. Cuteness was justice. Kittens, puppies and bunnies are, the trinity of soft and cuddly. I wanted one so badly, but dad would not let us get any pets. They looked adorable dressed up in clothes. Then there was my lurking the Idol boards, looking for pictures of cute girls, in the frilliest, most adorable clothes possible. I wanted to be them. I did not have the face for it though, my nose was too big. My favorite was an online idol named Ichigo. She was so snugly and soft looking. I got hooked the moment I saw her. My supreme favorite picture of her is one where she looks like a fairy, normally she looks like some magical elf creature, but in this one she dressed for it and even had a giant leaf.
The result was that it was now my permanent desktop background and I threw five dollars into her online donation fund. Considering how broke and stingy with my money I am that was a very generous donation. I check her site daily for updates and at one point or another I even looked up where she lived. Turns out she lives in the downtown area of the city. Googled it and everything, if I drove, I could get there in half an hour... Well, not that I would. At most I would try to be her friend. Not into girls like that after all, even though my dad keeps saying that I am. I just love cute things, the smaller and cuddlier the better.
When I was not face deep in a game, streaming of course, I was reading manga or watching anime online. Moon Sailors were my go to when I wanted to gaze upon glistening man flesh. The amount of man on man action was enough to make any girl wild. It was hard not to be in a good mood after watching it. My favorites were Moon Sailors, Atomic Samurai, Abyss and Blood Rager. I know it was a little weird how I loved cute things, but also enjoyed the darkest, most fucked up stories. I loved reading about how people overcame their troubles and grew stronger on their journey. It was inspiring. Granted, you watch enough of it and your brain will drip out your ears. It was good to do it in binges. I typically rotated from one activity to another so that I did not get bored of it.
My other hobby was cosplaying. I would use the pictures as reference and sew the cutest damned dresses I could. I made all sorts of outfits from the various anime and manga I browsed through. I had a few costumes, but they did not seem to fit my image and I looked creepy in them instead of cute. My Twitch chat are a bunch of fucking trolls, but hey, they throw money at me. I tried to make a power suit, a fake one, I am not a Super there was no way in hell I could make a real one. The materials cost way too much and it ended up never happening. If there was a gathering or Con or something I might get out of the house, but unfortunately my good old city of Bronson, California did not have a single Con in it.
I would have to go to LA or something for the time being. That was not going to happen, that place is a quagmire of crime and ugliness. No. I liked my city. Good old Bronson, California. It was the fifth largest city in the state. I am not saying there is no crime here, oh no we got it all here, but it is not nearly to the degree of that festering rat hole. We even got Supers running around, although that is not so impressive these days. Almost every city has at the least a team or if they don't the Hero League loans out some Supers to watch the place. Well, enough about real life.
This brings me to yet another reclusive day playing games in the dark recesses of my parent’s basement. Lately, I had been devoting an excessive amount of time to a game called the Shattered Realms, Broken Destiny. It was, well, to put it simply the best role playing game ever invented. You could create characters from twenty different races and even customize your class. Being the obsessive perfectionist that I was, I had already gotten to late game content and geared up to the point that any guild was slavering at my heels to get me on their roster. Never mind the fact that I am a cold blooded murderer in game.
Well, it was pretty easy to see why. I did have the Goddess of Death title after all, since I was the first to kill Lord Solar, the Sun God and get his fiery maul. Well, to be technical, I ninja looted it and killed everyone who tried to stop me. The thing was rather broken actually, not quite sure why it was even in the game. I could literally break down a castle wall in one swing. My character was a Dark Elemental, Fallen Valkyrie named Sintress. All in all I was pretty bad ass, in game at the least. What else was I going to do? I have no life. At the least my stream subscribers seem to like my murderous rampages, or they just want to fuck my character. I honestly don’t know which. It seems I only get the weirdos. Something tells me there is a bunch of hentai involving my character somewhere and I need to know about it.
To the side of my HUD I could see the chat, people were starting to filter in. Oh good, people here to watch, “Good Morning everyone, I see we have a few new faces. Welcome to Vesper’s rampage. Feel free to donate, if you have requests go for it.”
Almost immediately my donation chime went off, I had it set up to play, It’s Raining Men for about five seconds while showing a gif of Admiral Moon, getting showered with money. Then the robot lady voice I had on started reading what the person, Tittymouse wrote, “When do we get to see your Bewbie, bewbies, bewbies?!”
“Alright, alright that is it, you all just lost boob privileges! I was going to cosplay some sexy shit later too. You cock bags wonder why we can’t have nice things and this is why! This isn’t a fucking stripper cam, now get the fuck outa here.”
“Not fair, not fair! Don’t listen to the troll, we love you!” wrote a couple of them.
“Alright, fine, we hit a hundred bucks and I will dress up,” I replied, crossing my arms.
The fake woman’s voice appeared again as the donation popped up. “Thanks for streaming! Here is my part to the cosplay fund. Which are you going to do?”
“Thanks for donating. I don’t know yet, we will cross that bridge when we get there. So what do we want to do next?”
“Genocide, genocide!” filled the chat.
“So, which ethnicity are we cleansing the Shattered Realms of today?”
“Sounds fun,” I grinned, cracking my knuckles.
Thus, the great Centaur massacre that forced a server restart began. It only took about six hours and I still had time to start up dungeon runs for my subscribers. I loved being able to just zone out and murder things, strangle the life from their necks, burn their huts and slaughter their families. It is not real of course, it would be weird if it was. Sometimes I wish that I could live in the Shattered Realms, but only if I could be my character. Then remembering that they probably would not have invented toilet paper yet makes that a very disconcerting thing. It is kinda like how everybody wishes they could be knights or something in medieval Europe. Fucking stupid, if you ask me.
There is a reason it is called the dark ages. Plague, wars, famine, and shorter life spans, not appealing at all. Not to mention the whole peasant class thing and crushing taxes on wheat or anything else for that matter. Then you had filthy religion getting its grubby paws into everything. Corruption as far as the eye could see. Another thing would be that knights back then were basically just a bunch of thugs pillaging and raping the country side, funny how history glosses over that. I guess I would fit in pretty well, considering the war crimes I just committed on those centaur.
The computer screen was dull with Ichigo the fairy staring back at me. I blinked a few times, setting my virtual reality helmet to the side. It took another moment to make sure that I was logged out of Shattered Realms. My eyes were starting to burn from my latest dungeon crushing marathon. I would take scrubs through high level dungeons and get paid to do it. Not real money of course... If only life was that simple. I mean, I did sometimes, but mostly it was just ingame money.
Oh, look at that I made a hundred bucks from random donations. Looks like the chat earned themselves a dress up stream. The murder sprees always get the cash flowing. People really like violence. I suppose it is pretty entertaining. Looks like it is pizza tonight! The chat was scrolling up the side of the screen, they were trying to bribe me to show them my boobs. These fuckers never learn. It was the old Tips for Tricks fund, it never worked on me, but they try it anyway. I am not that desperate yet, and besides, I could get banned for that shit.
“Guys come on,” I said, exasperatedly, seriously, there is no pleasing these perverts. “You know I don’t show. Look, you want dress up or not? Which you want? Gothic Lolita, Magical Girl, or-”
“Dom, Dom, Dom!” spammed through the chat.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I never should have showed you guys that. That thing is so uncomfortable. I know it is all shiny, but I get all sweaty, do you guys really want to see that?”
Thumbs up started filling the chat log, these guys… whatever I will take your damned money.
“ Alright, look when I get back in about an hour or two I will put on the dominatrix leathers. You guys better be donating.”
With that I cut the feed to the camera. It is hard to move around in that costume. Money, gotta think of the money. I gotta get that new Moon Sailors dvd box set, it has that holographic poster and miniature set that is uncensored. But first I need a break, I had been at it for the past eight hours. Glancing at the clock I realized that I should probably do something with my day, it was already three in the afternoon. Some natural light and fresh air would do wonders for my mood. I was a little pissed since I got stiffed on one of my runs in SR. I murdered him and took all his money, but still it is the principle of the matter.
My room had become a staging area for trash after my latest gaming binge. A pile of pizza boxes leaned by the closet and the trash can was overflowing. The stairway leading out of my room was clear of debris, though it was kinda old and dingy. At any rate, I kept the room clean where the camera could see. A little deceptive, but what people don’t know won’t hurt them. I heard the tell tale signs that my dad was home, the stomping above my head gave it away, I could even follow where people upstairs were and where they were going if I tried.
My dad roared from up above, “Vesper Walda Vasska! Get your deadbeat ass up here!”
Shit, he used my full name, I must have fucked something up I don't know about. I racked my brain thinking of things that I have not done that he would be mad about. I guess the dishes were still floating in the sink, water ice cold. That was supposed to be done yesterday. Ah, fuck. I forgot about the gutters. Reluctantly, I emerged from my lair and walked, following the heavy footsteps. He was in the kitchen, thick shouldered, bald headed and pissed. His gaze could make milk curdle and it was directed at me. I don't even remember doing anything bad recently, at least nothing worthy of this. It was hard to miss the pile of clean dishes. Looks like he did that. He pointed at the kitchen table and I sat down without a fight.
“You know why I am angry?” He asked, plopping down on the opposite side.
“Nope.” I had to play stupid. If I started naming off stuff he don't know about yet things would get worse.
He pointed his finger at the table tapping it angrily. “You need to get outside and do something with your life. You are wasting it in that basement in front of that damned computer. I never should have bought that for you. When was the last time you went outside?”
“I was going to go outside after I took out the trash.” It was a weak answer, but it was the truth.
“See that is an improvement.” He smiled for a moment, but then his face became stern again. “Now listen, I don't mean to be angry with you, I just seriously worry over your future. You have not left the house for over a week and I hardly even see you unless I force my way into your room. That nest thing you got going on down there has to stop. Your mother is more worried than I am. It is like you are withdrawing from the world or something.”
“You could watch my stream, you know.”
“I will not watch my daughter being a cam whore!” he yelled and I scowled back.
“I am not a fucking cam whore, Dad. Jesus, I have some self-respect. At most I dress up. People pay to watch me play games. It is not like I am doing nothing down there.”
“I will take the damned Internet away.”
“Dad, be reasonable. I hear you, but what do you want me to do? You know that I am not some social butterfly.”
“You say that while actively streaming to strangers.”
“It is different. I don’t get all weirded out if they are not here in person.”
“Fine, first off take a shower, I can smell you from here,” he scrunched up his face a little. “No boy is ever going to go out with you if you smell like garbage and a jock strap.”
“Damn it, dad!” I yelled at him, he is always so rude about this. “This again? I am sorry that I am picky, but I will not just throw myself at somebody.”
“When did I say to throw yourself at somebody?” He raised his voice and here comes the I am suddenly a responsible daddy time. All through high school you ignored me. Where the fuck was this when I needed it? “Look, if some punk kid fucks with you, I will destroy him. You need to be out there to meet people. I want grandkids one day you know.”
“Dad! I am only twenty-five. You are rushing this! I don't want to be some trailer trash who got knocked up by some piece of shit you know.”
“Your mom and I were married at twenty-two you know.”
“Well, I am sorry there was no high school hunk to sweep me off my feet. I want an older guy. He has to be at the least thirty, have a job, a car and not live with his parents. All these stupid kids my age are too obsessed with sex. They just want to get in my pants and drink all fucking day. They don't care about me at all. I want something real, you know? You can’t blame me for wanting what you and mom have. I am not stupid, I know they just want to use me. Dad look, when I see somebody that I like, I will tell you. Just let me take this slowly. I will do everything else, but this is not going to happen. This is uncompromisable.”
“When was the last time you got laid?” He said with a straight face and it broadsided me from left field.
“DAD! Are you fucking serious?” I sounded hysterical and I knew it.
“What? Sometimes you just need to get wild.”
“Lalala! We are not doing this! This is not a conversation a dad should ever have with his daughter!”
“Alright, fine. I will leave that alone. As for your goals, though. Those are good things to look for, but how in the hell is such a man going to find you if you are holed up in that cave down there?”
“I know.” I snarled at him. “Just leave me alone.”
“How about you try joining the Baseball Team? I remember you were great as the catcher. Think about it. You would be out of the house and who knows you might meet a nice boy.”
Whoa, that was a shot out of the dark. “Dad that was high school. I haven't even touched a baseball in six years. What makes you think I could even pass the physical at this point. I have not exactly been training.”
“You could do it if you put your mind to it. You have always been like that. Remember when you caught that ball the girl tried to bunt, then threw and took out third base?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I clipped it right under the bitch and she stepped off of the plate.”
“See, you had fun. You should never have quit.”
“Oh god, dad is this about me not doing baseball in college?”
“It is not, but you should have. You could have gotten a full scholarship and everything.” My dad looked a bit hurt. Every time college got dragged up, he just gave me that disappointed look.
“I was not feeling it. I was already bored of baseball after high school. I was tired of being hit by balls all fucking day. It sucks being the catcher all the time. If anything went wrong, it was my fucking fault. I swear it is like being the jungler. Gank my lane you boosted animal. Nice smite, kill yourself. That is all I fucking hear. Thank god, I can mute all in games.”
“You are talking like one of those lesies.”
I rolled my eyes and almost walked away, but I knew that he would chase me down and this would get worse, so I just yelled at him. “Dad! For the last time I am not gay! I wasn't gay in college, even though half the damn dormitory was going through that experimental phase. My fucking roommate was a skanky dike who was plowing a different bitch every night. I had to listen to that shit. I sure as fuck am not gay now! Stay the hell out of my non existent sex life.”
He crossed his arms, glaring at me, “Then why are you stalking that fairy girl?”
“Dad! I am not stalking her,” I glared right back. “For me to be stalking anybody I would have to leave the house you know. I just love cute things and she is fucking adorable alright. So drop it.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Why can't you just be normal and have posters of half naked men all over your room. Instead of faeries and little Asian girls dressed up like those stupid cartoon characters. Those moon whatevers don't count.”
“It is called cosplay, dad. Moon Sailors. Fine dad, fine! I will show you my fucking porn folder how about that? Dicks and tentacles everywhere, there are so many it's like a fucking forest. I like the dick for the last fucking time! God, I can't believe I actually said that... You are so embarrassing dad!”
“Hey, you are the one who said it.” Smirked my dad, the bastard was barely keeping himself from laughing!
I scowled and turned away. “Because you won't get off my ass about it.”
He just laughed and pat me on the back, then ruffled my greasy hair, I could feel it standing up. I stormed off to take a shower while he chuckled and turned on the TV. I could hear the news something about some stupid Super getting caught and being labeled as a villain. The bathroom was over my room, well, I suppose the whole house is over my room. I would like to think that I was average height, five foot five. Not short but not tall either.
Shit, I really let myself go. I had borderline abs in high school. Feels like I was getting fat too, I could grab my flanks. Granted, it was not to the point that I had handles, but it was still troubling. I am going to have to lay off the pizza. Am I even going to be able to fit in that leather jumpsuit? There were some pretty bad bags under my blue eyes, dark and swollen. That VR helmet is not doing me any favors. My black hair looked like a quagmire from hell with tentacles everywhere, thanks dad.
My mind wandered as I went through the motions, throwing my clothes to the side and stepping into the shower. I forgot to let it heat up and regretted it instantly, but it did drag away the grogginess I was feeling. Shivers ran rampant. The hot water came at last, allowing me to think. At first it was what was wrong with my life, but then I remembered the news. I mean really if, I had superpowers I would not do something stupid like robbing a bank. That is just begging to get caught. Well, I would join the good guys, first of all. I mean you get a license to beat the living shit out of criminals. It would be like living in a video game. I would have a bitchin costume and show off my boobs. I would never let myself get out of shape either.
Then again, I doubt I could handle that kind of responsibility. I mean, in games I am never a nice person. It is part of why people watch me. The way I see it is if you are weak, you deserve to have your shit stolen from you. Not in real life, of course, that is some scumbag shit, stealing from others. I mean they worked hard to earn that.
After a short while the shower stopped and I stepped out to find that, I looked like a certain girl who crawled out of a well. The brush got caught in the tangled mess of hair, but after a while of wrestling with it the sleek black gloss was perfectly straight and shiny, reminded me of doll hair, which was exactly what I aimed for. It even smelled of lavender. I coiled the towel and retreated back to my room. The laundry needed to be done apparently. A pair of jeans that I wore the other day didn't smell too funky, but it would have to do until I could wash everything.
I wore my Captain Metal shirt. He is my favorite hero, well local one anyway. His super power revolved around sonic technology, he could make just about anything. He has a hover bike that uses sound waves to create lift. Then he has his frequency rifle that can pierce steel or be used as a bean bag gun. I think his only weakness would be a sound vacuum or something like that. Or if you caught him without any of his gear.
Then again, nobody knows who most people are behind the mask, they don't take kindly to it if somebody reveals a secret identity. I heard on a forum once that the whole super community will descend on the dumb fuck who spills the beans. I am not just talking about the heroes, the villains too. This one time a reporter in South America revealed some Villain's identity and the next day his body was found in his apartment room, dildos shoved in every orifice and a scorched tire track going up the wall before vanishing into the ceiling.
Apparently, it was the doing of some guy called Demonrider. He is kind of a big deal down there. He is more or less the drug overlord and it is very foolish to piss that crazy guy off. If the rumors were true, he has a cocaine powered superbike and a harem of demon bitches. I would assume that said skankubi were responsible for the adult toys. They are fairly famous. I heard of them and that says something since I usually avoid the outside world. Supers are kinda scary if you think about it. That would be a good part of the reason I don't go out much, there are crazy people out there.
The trash was more of a challenge than predicted and took a full three trips to get it all out. A brisk spring breeze swept by the desolate street. My house was a bit out in the boonies, but my dad had five acres. Good luck getting that in the city limits. It gets very cold out here, even with the sun out the snows were still lingering up at higher elevations, which means we are right in the middle of February. I think it was the eighth, I should really check that. A lack of a jacket was making this a very short excursion and I closed the door. Dad sat on the couch still watching the news. It was about the weather now and a quick glance revealed yet another storm coming in either tomorrow or the day after.
Dad was always nice before he went to work, which was very soon since it was already passed five and he was the bouncer at the nightclub Atomic Strobe. He just sat there patting me like I was some kind of cat or something, didn't say a word the whole time. I liked it when he was like this just quiet and calm. Our time together was all too short though, his watch went off. He pulled on his leather jacket and made for the door.
“Good night,” I told him and he grinned and said the same.
Then Dad was gone and Mom was away on a business trip, as usual. So once more I will be all alone until tomorrow morning. I idly piled my clothes into the washer, threw in a cup of soup and turned it on. My head kinda hurt for some reason. Maybe I have been staring at screens for too long. I sat down with my back to the machine as it spun, the vibrations wormed through me. It was like a nice massage as I just sighed and closed my eyes enjoying it. I zoned out for a long while and then it beeped at me signaling that it was done. I went about stuffing the clothes into the dryer and turned it on.
I flopped down on the couch. It was an old thing, but it was soft and I sunk into it. Maybe my dad was right and I should try out for the women's baseball team. Although, I doubt I could make the cut. My shape is not exactly prime these days. Maybe, I should start doing some running again? Squats would definitely do me some good. Ah, dammit, I just took a shower and here I am thinking about getting all sweaty and gross again. Ten minutes, then I will go out there.
I idly flipped through the TV channels nothing was really on. There were reruns of Moon Sailors, but I was not feeling in the mood for that amount of gay. Don't get me wrong, the guys are fucking hot. I just did not feel like hearing them scream love and peace while fighting skanky looking space bimbos. If it was a new episode I would be watching it though. I surfed about until I found an interview with Captain Metal. He was in costume, like always. You could see his muscles under his jumpsuit. He was sleek, thin and well defined. He had a cape with the local hero's branch insignia, a B with two overlapping circles covering it. His helmet covered all, but his lower jaw and mouth.
He chatted away with some frizzy haired reporter about the recent villain who had been captured. Some scumbag called the Buccaneer. The dumb ass thought he was a pirate or something, apparently he could eat oranges and it healed whatever injuries he had. Sounds like a stupid power to me. He looked like a pirate, I will give him that, peg leg, eye patch, majestic beard, bitchin hat, and coat. Where the hell did he get that stuff anyway? Is there like a Super Villain costume store somewhere or something? I mean it is not like they make it themselves or anything, who the fuck has time to do that?
I shook my head vaguely wondering what the hell to do now. The thought of playing some more Shattered Realms came to mind, but I was a little burnt out on it. To me, the Internet was an escape, but I had promised that I was going to stay away from it, no more day straight marathon dungeon runs like I had been doing before. I guess I could just play some League. First, I gotta get all dolled up, so I can make some money off those horny bastards. I padded the concealer under my eyes to cover up the bags, like usual it took two layers. Fluffed up my eyelashes and got my lips nice and red. Looks about right, I observed in the side mirror. I tossed my clothes to the side and attempted to fit into my tight leather jumpsuit.
Yeah, that is right, it is basically bondage gear and I got a whip too. You can find some great things on Amazon. I floundered about on my bed, fighting it so that I could zip it up. Oh, tighter than I remember. Fuck, definitely laying off the junk food. That was harder than it should have been. Finally, I got it up and felt the air get squished out of my chest. Not really surprising since it had a corset. Fit like a glove. I stretched, wiggling and getting it loosened up so that it would be tolerable to wear for a few hours. I had boots, but I don’t think that I need to wear them. Much more comfy not wearing them. Where is that damned hat? It was on the stand with my red and black cape. I fastened it to a brooch and plopped my leather cap on. What can I say? I like to dress up, I sort of imagine myself as a Super when I do. I figure this is what it is like having a costume anyway. DaDaDa, to save the day! Pfft, like that would ever happen.
Alright, am I forgetting anything? Not that I can think of. Twitch started up, except it didn’t. What the hell? It was stuck on the eternal loading screen. I shut it down, started it again, nothing. I opened the browser to check on Ichigo's website. The swirly thing of doom popped up. It took only a few moments to see that I had no Internet connection… son of a bitch! I did not just spend twenty minutes getting dressed up for this shit. I stormed up the stairs to poke at the Internet router, however, it was gone. Dad must have stolen it when I was taking a shower. I am not going to put up with this.
I called my dad, yelling, “Hey! Where did the fuck did you put the router!?”
“You will get it when I get home.”
“But Daaaad, I needs my Internet! I was going to make money.”
“Go for a run or something,” he replied and hung up.
Well, fuck! There goes my day. I guess my chat will just have to wait until tomorrow. Man, I wanted spending money. They always pay a bit when I dress up. My ass sunk into the couch, while I brooded over how to get connection again. Shit, I can’t think of anything. It is so stuffy in here. I stretched and decided that I really should go for a run. It might clear the air and help me think. It had been a long time. My hand almost opened the door, then exactly what it was that I am wearing came to mind. Can’t go running in something like this. That is just asking to rip stuff or get a rash. Reluctantly, I took it all off and got back into my jeans and shirt.
My favorite jacket that I got for Christmas sat next to the door, hanging from the hook next to Mom’s spare pea coat. Mine was a zip up, lined with fur and the insides were puffy and warm. It didn’t really help my hands, though, they were always cold it seemed. Unfortunately, I did not have mittens. Do I have bad blood circulation or something? The night air fogged my breath and the silvery moon stood, gazing down at the half shadowed world. I took off down the street jogging.
The neighborhood was quiet as always. Nothing happened out here, nothin exciting anyway. The street was dead, not a soul to be seen anywhere. The only way anybody could tell that people were here was by the gentle glow of the house lights. Cars dotted driveways by this point everyone was already home or left for work. The silence was calming. My feet scrabbling on the pavement were the only interruption. The rhythmic pace slowed as I bent over catching my breath. My god I was out of shape. It has only been two circles around the neighborhood and I was already feeling it. Back in high school, I could easily go five to six before being winded like this.
Dad, dad was right, I really did need to get my shit together. It is no use moping around that basement. I will start running every morning and a month from now I will try and take the test to join up with the Baseball Team. I bet dad will be happy to hear that. I grinned happily walking back. The air was so chilly it felt absolutely amazing to cool me down. I will probably still do the stream on the side.
It did not take long to return home, but there was nothing waiting for me there. No Internet and reruns on TV made for a very boring night. Dad was gone to work and playing games just did not feel right. Sleep was always a good option, problem was, I was not very tired. I thought for a long moment, then decided to visit my old childhood haunt. It must have been years since I last went there. I set off to walk the property and while I was at it try to get my act together. It did not take long to arrive at my old hideaway, a fallen tree way out near the back of the property line. The gnarled stump was hollowed out where half of the tree had given way to rot long ago. The rest was still alive, standing tall like a sentinel. There was something about this place that always calmed me down. My thoughts shifted to how I ended up like this. I could have been making a six-figure salary, eh maybe, who knows? Life is a strange thing.
It all started in college or I should say ended. After being exposed to the curriculum that was floating about I decided that college was not for me, way too much mindless brainwashing and attempting to force their beliefs upon me. I just wanted to learn, not be indoctrinated. I was getting some serious cult vibes. The way Mom talked about it, I thought there would be intelligent debates over stuff, instead it was filled safe space crying children who couldn’t deal with facts and if you held a differing belief then they would bully and ostracize you. The professors were in on it too. My friends even turned on me. It seemed they all went zombers or something. Must have been the environment.
I tried to major in economics, but the school was.... Well, let's just say retarded, to put it mildly. I don't know who hired that teacher for the job, but I knew more than he did. Which is pretty sad and also a bit disturbing since, I had just gotten out of high school at the time and did some online classes just to get myself ready. I mean shit, it was as though that professor had never taken economics. He did not even know the basics of the basics, which was that nothing is free. No matter what you do, you will always lose something. This was what is called opportunity cost. I guess they never heard the story about peanuts and peanut butter.
He did not know what the hell, raising the minimum wage would do to the job market and then how that would adversely affect every other market. Apparently, the word inflation had a different meaning in their book with how they were advocating it. Then again, he was spouting off about a socialist utopia. They kept going on about how higher wage workers contributed more to the economy, while ignoring the fact that hamburger flippers should not be getting more money than a firefighter.
They would counter to simply pay the firefighters more while ignoring that inflation would skyrocket by doing that. Let alone the strain that it puts on employers, leading to job cuts to make up for the lost profit from having to pay the workers more. Which directly led to more poverty, food stamp sign ups, welfare dependency and ultimately less tax collection and the supposed fix was tax increases, which only aggravated the problem leading to a vicious cycle that created a peasant class. It was unsustainable, it was literally insanity. Yet those dumb asses were grinning away acting like they were so smart.
Every day there I felt like I was about to have an aneurysm. So one day, I got so fed up I dropped out. I should have stuck it out to get the degree, or at the very least finished it online, but at some point I stopped caring. It just, I don’t know. It feels like a piece of me is missing now and I don’t know what it was.
My parents were disappointed in me for dropping out and since I did not have a degree in anything I could not get a job that did not involve flipping burgers. I got nothing against burgers, but that is not a job you want for more than a few years. It is an entry level job, not a career. I had no connections who could hook me up with a swanky job. A high school diploma wasn't worth shit these days not with how bad the economy was. So I had no money and was forced to live with my parents. The upside was that I was not dumb enough to get some arts degree that would never find a job even with a good economy. So yeah, not being crushed under a student loan that was wasted on a useless degree was a pretty damned good feeling.
I saw what it did to a few people from the neighborhood. Joey, across the street… he hung himself. We were not really that close, but fuck man. I guess he or rather she? Was Transgender came out and didn’t exactly receive a warm welcome, or so I heard. There was also the hundred thousand dollar schooling debt. I guess she couldn’t take it. I don’t know. Personally, I got nothing against gays or the rest of that, just not my cup of tea. Who you stick your thing in or let stick in you, well, that is your business. Super god damned depressing. I wish I had known, I would have been her friend. We would have dressed up and shit. Some of the weirdest, most fun people I have ever met were more queer than a two dollar bill. Best not to think about it.
My life is not so bad, if I ignore the fact that I am twenty-five, but I can't really do much about it. I might be able to get a better job, but that would involve a lot of legwork and it was not even close to being a sure thing. My motivation was sitting at a cold sub zero. I had better things to do with my time than fruitless job hunting, like streaming my exploits of SR, LoL, and Pokemon to my rabid Twitch fan base of a hundred people. At any rate, it is neither here nor there.
Hours passed in dead silence. It was peaceful and serene just me and the night. This was just what I needed, no distractions, just time to get everything organized. Finally, I was going to get my shit together. Tomorrow I would start my training. Sexy booty here I come! I grinned, looking up at the night sky. It is funny how a single moment can change your life so dramatically. A car accident suddenly ripping your life apart. Just out of the blue, out of your control. But then there are other times where you wander out onto the train tracks. You ignore all the warnings and just walk out, then when the train hits you, you have only yourself to blame. I suppose this would be one such defining moment, though I did not know it yet. My life was about to become a circus fire.
A strange star appeared far away on the horizon right above the nearby mountains. It was red and it was moving. I started to think it was a comet, watching as it drew closer and closer skating across the sky. A low rumble began to echo at first I felt it crawl up through the ground and shudder the air. At this point, even I could figure out that it was not some cosmic thing, but an airplane. A strange sound echoed and the clouds parted around it. A roar rose from an engine and smoke trailed behind the aircraft. It streaked right overhead, plunging into the forest with a terrible crash. An explosion rang out and orange plumed up, billowing smoke. The mountain loomed in the background. I stared in disbelief something had actually happened way out here. I should have run back home and hid under my bed, but how often did something like this happen? If I was lucky I might even get to meet Captain Metal or something. I could get his fucking autograph!
I held out my phone, shining light on the path. The crash did not seem that far away. It looked like it was just over the hill. I climbed along the trail that I used to take back when I was just a snot-nosed kid. It wound its way up the hill like a serpent, but at last, the trees gave way and I stood, gazing down at a small valley that started up the side of the mountain. Nobody lived out here and only the hardcore hikers and backpackers would bother to come out here. The fire filled my eyes, burning brightly against the black of the forest. It seemed to have hit one of the meadows that lead into the bogs out here. I might be a basement dwelling nerd now, but I know this place well enough, after all I spent my childhood running around out here. The walkway was overgrown, though, it was not too bad to descend.
All the flames had died down a bit by the time I muddled my way through the undergrowth. The clearing that the metal wreck lay was filled with the snaps and crackles of the twisting metal. The craft looked like it was a small cargo plane, kinda hard to tell with how messed up it was. The whole front end was crushed into the ground. It was not very likely that anybody survived that unless they were a Super. I had heard of a few that were borderline indestructible, let's see there was Atomic Train and Armadillo, but that was about it. There could be a lot more, but I don't follow Supers that much, kinda like football, I never really got into it. I don't really know too much about them besides what I see in the news every now and again. Most of the time it was about the subhumans in the slums, all of it was bad.
I stared at the flames, not really knowing what to do. The whole of the area was lit up and while aimlessly circling the crash I saw a strange metal canister lying about fifty feet away along with a trail of debris leading off into the woods. This is the type of thing you see in movies. So I did what anybody in my position would, got a large stick and poked it. An idiot would have just ran up and grabbed it bare handed. I was not going to just go up and touch that shit. If it was important or something I could turn it in for a reward, but I did not trust it as far as I could throw it. Seemed alright, so I gave it another prod and it rolled out of the depression it made, that was when a green glow filled my eyes. The damned thing had already been broken open by the crash. This is exactly why I did not walk up and grab it.
I had seen enough horror movies to know where this was going. When has a fluorescent goo ever been a good thing? Oh god are those fumes?! This is how you get cancer. Just about everything gives cancer these days, but something tells me this might be super cancer. Back away, not today! I was getting a very bad feeling about this place. The inclination that I was in way over my head came to mind and that this was something that I should not be involved in. Uneasily, I stepped back, giving it a wide berth. I turned around getting ready to leave when a low whine pierced through the air around the ship. Not liking that I back peddle away as quickly as possible. Suddenly an explosion ripped through the crash and I threw myself backward onto the ground to dodge any shrapnel. I was a bit late, unfortunately as several impacts resounded through my back. It surprisingly did not hurt as much as I thought that it would.
My chest felt wet, ah fuck, it is blood isn’t it?! I ran my hand down to feel. It was warm and squishy, green pervaded everywhere. Oh, fuck me. I am soaked in this shit! The glow was mocking me. It had seeped through my jacket, ruined my jeans, and I could even feel it in my hair. I screamed, clawing my way out of the depression and tried to stand only to find a jagged piece of metal sticking out of my leg. I could tell that I was still in shock. Otherwise, something like that would hurt like a bitch. My right leg was useless and that goop was getting into the wound. I hobbled towards the bog. As I went my clothes were torn off and I threw myself into the filthy muck.
I could not get the jeans off the metal was lodged in there. A throbbing spread, the serrated metal cut my fingers from trying to pull it out. Rubbing the mud over it did not help at all and now my skin felt like it was starting to burn, melt even. Thousands of stings radiated over my skin, it was worse than that one time I threw a rock at a massive killer bee hive. I wallowed about in the black mire, scraping my skin to the point it was bleeding. This is what I get for going outside. Why didn't I just go home? I was burning up, skin blistering and popping, it hurt more than anything I had ever felt before. Can’t even describe it. It raged and seared without end, even after I was too exhausted to move.
A light appeared and it swept over the area. I could only vaguely follow it. Pounding filled my ears and a rhythmic sound reverberated overhead. I realized it was a helicopter. The wind rippled the waves and made it slosh when it set down nearby. Figures poured out as two more landed and they scattered all around, searching for something. In desperation, I crawled towards them, hoping that they could help. They were covered in thick suits, there were lights beside their heads shining wherever they looked.
A loud voice, gruff and heavily accented, rang out. It sounded like a huge Russian soldier from some movie I had seen somewhere. “Da. My team has arrived on site, securing remains. Check hazmat suits quickly. Do not risk contamination, you will die.”
“Comrade, there is one canister left, but it is damaged.” Shouted a subordinate, running over to one of the helicopters. He held that metal tube that caused all of this.
My eyes blurred as someone stepped over, stopping right in front of where I lay. My mind swirled and churned I wanted to yell, but I could only cry out incoherently.
“Seems to be survivor. Bring girl along, be careful she is covered in Mutigene, place her in sterile transport container. Dr. Tesla, we are returning shortly.”
One of them approached with some sort of syringe looking thing. I have always hated needles and this thing did not look friendly. I retreated a few bumbling flops, but then he pressed my chest to the ground with his knee. I felt a prick in my neck and all the pain flew away, along with the world.