Tempest

Fiction Fragment Friday

This story started with the first line of dialog in it. An expression of frustration expressed after spending too much time keeping up with the horrible things happening in the world. To often in my life I have felt the impotent rage of a person feeling that there is nothing they can do to make things better. Sometimes this is focused externally and sometimes it is raging against the thoughts in my own head. I often visualize this anger coming out in waves of energy like an explosion because it feels like too much to contain. That is the inspiration for this story. That desire to lash out, but the knowledge that even with that power it would not make anything better. Only worse. Even if that relief were only screaming or verbally lashing out.

                I felt intense pressure behind my eyes and terror that they would burst from their sockets.  Jagged lines of light filled my vision, overwhelming anything else I might have seen.   My brain felt like something was stabbing it repeatedly.  I couldn’t be sure of anything else happening around me as my entire existence compressed into the area around my head. 

                “NO MORE,” I heard myself scream as the pressure released from me in waves of destructive energy.  I didn’t know what the energy was, but it came from deep inside me.  The cars all around me crumbled and flew, tumbling through the air away from me.  There was a sound of shattering glass from the nearby buildings as the waves of energy hit them.  The very ground around me melted and bubbled away like ripples in a lake after an impact.

                I rose to my feet, laughing in relief as the pain faded.  The relief filled me, masking my awareness of all the damage I had just caused.  A car crashed through the second floor of the office I worked in.  People were injured all around me, but at that moment I was completely unaware.  The pain was gone, and that was the only thing that mattered. 

                “You think this is funny?”  I heard the angry voice behind me, but couldn’t quite make out where it was coming from.  I turned just in time to see a fist come out of the sky and smash into my face.  A wave of energy burst from me at the moment of impact, creating a protective energy shell.  I spun through the air twenty feet before bouncing off the ground and crashing into a car on its side from my initial energy release.  I hurt from being shaken, but there was no damage.  “Laugh now, you bastard.” 

                The man was coming towards me at a startling speed.  That was when I recognized him.  He was a superhero who went by the name Vengeance.  I had seen him on the news but couldn’t remember what his powers were.  His reputation for being unforgiving preceded him, though.  Reality was still fuzzy for me, so I couldn’t figure out why I would be his target.

                Vengeance reached down and grabbed me by the front of my shirt, lifting me above his head.  He was screaming at me, but I couldn’t make out his words through the pounding in my head.  I could feel the energy building again and for the first time, I focused that energy and made the conscious decision to release it. I thrust my hands forward and the waves of energy came from them directly into Vengeance’s chest. 

                I found myself kneeling on the ground as he went flying away from me, smashing through multiple cars.  He came to a stop, standing on shaky feet, still facing me.  With a cough, he spit blood onto the pavement.  “Is that all you got?”  His eyes locked on mine and I knew at that moment he would not stop until one of us was dead. 

                With all my concentration, I focused on the wreckage of two cars in the parking lot.  They shook for a moment before smashing together with Vengeance in the middle.  I could feel my anger boiling over.  That man was trying to kill me, and I would be damned if I was going to let him do it.  I stalked towards him, but became distracted by the sound of tears from my office building.  Looking over, I processed what I had done for the first time.

                The building was on fire from the car crashing into it.  By the door, one of my coworkers was bent over a mangled body, crying.  I lost control when my powers had triggered for the first time and people had lost their lives because of it.  I looked over at the broken body of Vengeance and could see bones sticking through his skin in places.  “What have I done?” 

                That is my origin story.  I never wanted to be a supervillain, but it is hard to convince Superheroes of that once you have killed one of their own.  I couldn’t return to a normal life after so many of my coworkers had seen my face.  The ones that survived.  When you spend every waking moment being hunted, it is hard not to lash out.  It seems like every decision only makes things worse.    More damages, injuries, and death.  I’m not a bad guy, though.  Really.