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[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing.
I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me.
but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing.
I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me.
but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing.
I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me.
but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing.
I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me.
but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | I was in the safe room place located in each city. It was a place where powers could manifest safely without any risk of outside destruction. When I turned 18 and nothing happened I was marked down as "no power" people usually have a strong burst of their power when it manifests. I got nothing.
I was on my home and the dark one jumped and slaughtered me tearing my heart out and devouring it. I was dead, the dark one hunted those with the strongest or most unique powers taking their heart so they humans could not rise to the stars. Once the dark one attacks the entire city must be destroyed as the dark one needed to be destroyed and was not allowed to escape. Everyone in my hometown was marked as dead including me.
but I didn't die. I woke up to the ashes and dust. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it!
10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it!
10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it! | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | *I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript.
MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday.
AR: Thank you.
MD: Today is your 98th birthday.
AR: Yup.
MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power.
AR: 80 years.
MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday?
AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped.
MD: What about your parents?
AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much.
MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries.
AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way.
MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in.
AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse.
MD: Was he a friend?
AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people.
MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it.
AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard.
MD: Tell us where you were living at the time.
AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river.
MD: But it never hurts you.
AR: Just wet shoes.
MD: What happened after that day in the gym?
AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains...
MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage.
AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off.
MD: You endured death threats.
AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out.
MD: How did you escape?
AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again.
MD: Tell us about your home now.
AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too.
MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand.
AR: I hope so.
MD: Tell us about that.
AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some.
MD: That's been your full time job.
AR: Yup. Standin' there.
MD: Any regrets?
AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get.
MD: Thank you for your time.
*Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.* | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | Today's the day. I'm nervous beyond comprehension. My family comes from a long line of people who can control fire. They don't get burned by it, but it can be burn everything else, even each other. My twin sister and I are marked. After almost two decades of people losing their cool, literally, we are permanently marked by the stains of our family's anger. So we left. My sister Cora and I left, hoping to escape. We hope to leave our family's alcoholic anger, to leave the destruction their fire causes, to leave the abuse and all the pain behind. We left several weeks ago; because she was in fetal distress and developing inside our mother was the best for me, she was born by caesarian section about two weeks before me, so she's had her powers for a while now.
I had never believed the teachers in school when they said that nature and nurture were both components in the development of powers. That one's experiences weigh in just as much as one's genes. Until Cora got her powers. Healing. Suffering breeds compassion, so her experiences have led her to gain the compassionate powers of healing. Healing physical wounds, healing most mental wounds. But we found out when we ran into trouble a few weeks ago that I am immune to Cora's powers.
When we left, we didn't know where to run. So we ran to the big city- Las Vegas, to be exact. Our naivety got the best of us- we didn't know how to handle ourselves in the shady sides of town. We were looking for a way to get money the moral, right way, having had enough of the immoral from our family. We came across this woman. She seemed similar to me; as though I was looking into a mirror, except she was older and had had years of strife burdening her evident on her face. She pulled a gun, firing into the night. After three shots, she dropped it, screaming that she had become her mother- overzealous, stuck, and in a bad place. She had shot me in the leg. Cora screamed as she used her week-old powers desperately, under the impression that I would be bleeding out. It didn't work, to her dismay, but after a bit of rest, I was okay. I mean, I have quite the limp if I even think about walking, but we knew where to find a wheelchair and it is not life-threatening in the slightest.
Cora is my best friend. After that incident, she did everything she could to take care of me. She always has, to be honest. Even though she was sicker because of her rougher start, Cora took "being the oldest" to mean being the protector, and has always stood by my side. She fought for me from the playground, to being at home with our mother unable to control herself in fiery, alcohol-induced outbursts. Cora and I have always just gone together, despite being twins born two weeks apart and having dissimilar personalities. Because of my burns, I grew to be pyrophobic, so Cora stepped in to help me out. She has always been the one playing with the necessary fire. Like when we went camping. She would roast two marshmallows to give me one, allowing me to avoid being near the fire. Cora sits closer to me to keep me warm, instead of making me sit close to the fire for warmth. But to say that the fire doesn't bother her, too, would be wrong; she also would avoid the fire if she could, simply being more courageous than I. So between her and myself, the worst possible outcome of this would be for me to follow in our family's footsteps. To control what she and I fear the most: fire.
"Lily? Lily, are you up?" Cora calls.
I respond, "Yes, Cora, I am."
"Are they here yet?"
"I don't know."
"Well, why don't you try?" She asks, as she comes into the room.
"Because I'm scared. It is my worst fear to be like them. Or to be something that could hurt you, remind you of our past, or even lose you."
"You won't lose me. Our past is ours for a reason, and it helps us to grow. You're immune to my powers, why shouldn't I be immune to yours? There's not a single documented case of one twin having immunity without the other. There's no need to be afraid," she lies, "especially if we don't even need to be worry about that power."
"Okay," I relent as I try my limits, and all I can feel is heat and pain, as flames swallow my fingertips. I scream in pain. Not only has my worst nightmare come true, but I am not immune to the burns of my own fire. The fire extinguishes itself from having no fuel as I fall to the ground, seeing nothing but black. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it!
10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it!
10 Seconds
I can't wait, it's finally here.
9 Seconds
I hope I get an awesome superpower!
8 Seconds
This is the best time of my life
7 Seconds
There's nothing that's going to top this moment
6 Seconds
If I get the ability to fly, I'm gonna freak out!
5 Seconds
Maybe I'll be able to move stuff with my mind.
4 Seconds
I wonder if I'll be able to save lives.
3 Seconds
Not much longer now!
2 Seconds
Here it comes.
1 Second
This is it! | I can't do this anymore.
I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard.
My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I *think* it works out that either;
a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s.
or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware.
Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next.
And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. *die*. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. *go*.
Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the *minutest* elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe?
So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head.
And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking *Maybe I'll get a burger and piss.* Then it hits you. Like a fucking *poison*. The idea.
And this is when I *know* what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all.
See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit? | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | *I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript.
MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday.
AR: Thank you.
MD: Today is your 98th birthday.
AR: Yup.
MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power.
AR: 80 years.
MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday?
AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped.
MD: What about your parents?
AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much.
MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries.
AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way.
MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in.
AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse.
MD: Was he a friend?
AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people.
MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it.
AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard.
MD: Tell us where you were living at the time.
AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river.
MD: But it never hurts you.
AR: Just wet shoes.
MD: What happened after that day in the gym?
AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains...
MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage.
AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off.
MD: You endured death threats.
AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out.
MD: How did you escape?
AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again.
MD: Tell us about your home now.
AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too.
MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand.
AR: I hope so.
MD: Tell us about that.
AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some.
MD: That's been your full time job.
AR: Yup. Standin' there.
MD: Any regrets?
AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get.
MD: Thank you for your time.
*Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.* | I can't do this anymore.
I run a clinic. I don't have fuck all in the way of medical expertise, but powers is powers so, y'know. God's a bastard.
My friends for the most part have powers complementary to their personalities, some not so, but I have a theory. I *think* it works out that either;
a. You get the power depending on what you think of at the time you turn eighteen. Some people say they crossed fingers and touched wood while blowing out candles and got just what they wanted. I call b to the s.
or b. (More likely) You get the power depending on what you wanna do with your life. Deep down inside, heart's desire type shit. I believe this one because who truly knows what they want? Wouldn't this make sense, surely? Evolution-wise. Logistically the other 'wish' theory doesn't make any sense, imagine how many people would be like, sex gods or something. Which hasn't happened so far as I'm aware.
Anyway, the power. I think I got the power that compliments what I want out of life, because I always joked that I was the master of addiction. At my peak, I'd pop in and out of various classes of low-level drugs on a weekly basis. Bits of cold turkey at a time. Though to get these things usually you have to hang around with quite a uh.. well. 'Fucked up' crowd. Lot of people I met one of these weeks that I never saw the next.
And I gotta say, being honest? I was pretty fucked up by it too. The addiction thing wasn't the problem, see, I cut down and stopped all but the most lenient herbs and spices by a month or so's time. No, no the problem was the thoughts. How fucking quickly someone can just.. *die*. How easily your vision, and your love, and hunger, and hopes for next week, and 'maybe I could get a girlfriend' thoughts and 'I should call my parents' thoughts and 'maybe I could start eating healthy' thoughts could all just.. *go*.
Because, I mean the human body can take a beating, man. Torture, psychological abuse, the amount of blood loss and internal shit and fucking with the *minutest* elements of someone's muscles and bones, though horrible, are all survivable. But a badly measured syringe?
So I got my power. I was thinking about helping people. People with drug problems, specifically. Addictions. Fucked up psychology and stealing from Mom's purse all gone with a tap on the wrist. Or heart. Or head. They come in, I ask what they're addicted to, what they want gone, I do it. Wrist, heart or head.
And so, when they leave, they aren't addicted anymore. And then they don't know what to do with themselves. I imagine it. Walking out, breathing free. Stretching. Thinking *Maybe I'll get a burger and piss.* Then it hits you. Like a fucking *poison*. The idea.
And this is when I *know* what they're thinking. Because they're back in a week later. Or not at all.
See, if you can always go and get cured of the addiction side, shit, why not go take a hit? | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | *I had the chance to speak with Alonzo Rodriguez, the man famously known as the man with the "most unusual superpower ever." Below is a slightly edited transcript.
MD: Good morning, Mr. Rodriguez. And happy birthday.
AR: Thank you.
MD: Today is your 98th birthday.
AR: Yup.
MD: That means it's been 80 years to the day since you received your power.
AR: 80 years.
MD: Tell us, what were you expecting on that 18th birthday?
AR: I was hoping to fly. My brother got flying, and I thought I would too. I hoped.
MD: What about your parents?
AR: My dad, he could talk to animals, but he died before my power day. My mom had strength, but she didn't use it much.
MD: I guess you never had to carry the groceries.
AR: No, she still made us carry groceries. She wanted us to grow to be good boys, and not rely on powers or other people. Independent, that's the way.
MD: Tell us, what was the reaction you had when your power came in.
AR: Well, I didn't know it was me for a little while. It flooded the gymnasium pretty quick. A couple of my classmates drowned, but there was nothing to do about it. I tried to help one feller but it made it worse.
MD: Was he a friend?
AR: He was a boy I knew since... 6th grade, or 8th grade, I can't remember. He was a nice boy. Always helping other people.
MD: Only one out of every 30 million people has a one of a kind power. Describe yours, for our readers who aren't aware of it.
AR: Water. Water comes down, it rains, but it's the water from underground that's the problem. It busts up through the floor and the ground, pretty hard.
MD: Tell us where you were living at the time.
AR: Back then I was in Portland, so there was a lot of water. I have a January birthday, so it was rainy anyway, but the water bust up and just soaked everything. It can come in pretty hard too, like a river.
MD: But it never hurts you.
AR: Just wet shoes.
MD: What happened after that day in the gym?
AR: I figured it was me because we all ran out of there, and the whole way home, water was coming up out of the ground, out of the water mains...
MD: I have some archived articles that say that you caused over $250 million dolalrs worth of damage.
AR: That's about right. I felt bad but you know, there's no way to turn it off.
MD: You endured death threats.
AR: No one really blamed me, they just figured it wouldn't work out.
MD: How did you escape?
AR: Well, I'm ok if I'm in a helicopter or an airplane. It's too high I guess. But as soon as it touches down, it happens again.
MD: Tell us about your home now.
AR: Well, after that first day, they picked me up and flew me out to a boat. I have to stay on the ocean in deep water. There's a lot of stirring in the water, and I guess it makes some holes in the bottom of the ocean, so I have to be careful there, too.
MD: You have turned a curse into a gift, I understand.
AR: I hope so.
MD: Tell us about that.
AR: Some folks don't have water, so they fly me out, and can usually get 'em some.
MD: That's been your full time job.
AR: Yup. Standin' there.
MD: Any regrets?
AR: .... I never had a family. But no, I guess you get what you get.
MD: Thank you for your time.
*Mr. Rodriguez has helped irrigate over 12 million acres over the course of his lifetime, and saved the lives of hundreds of millions of people.* | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 15, 14, 13.
"Fuck I'm not going to make it".
12
"How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google".
---
"Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead".
"Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower".
"Very good Jenny, ok cla...."
Ring ring
"Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class".
As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers.
"Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked.
"No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded.
"All right man, well good luck" Chad said.
"Thanks" I responded.
When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail.
The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless.
---
3,2.
Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction.
1, phew just in time.
FUCKING GOOGLE!
Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | It was my birthday. My day to be unique. Some kids get the power to fly, others the power to read minds. Of course there were simple powers such as being Triple jointed, or being able to have super keen eyesight, but it is a unique power that you inherit on your 18th birthday. Today was my day, I count down the seconds awaiting the gift to show me my enlightenment. The seconds slowly dissipate and it is time, I look around to see what my power is, my family is all around me, all anticipating my soon to be unlocked power. Then i saw what gift i was given, the forsaken power. My family drops to the floor, blood spewing from their eyes and mouth. I was given the power of "pestilence" To instantly END whatever or whomever i see fit with the most excrutiating death imaginable, unbeknownst of me I was given the strongest version of this power, with no control of it I killed my entire family, and now everyone ive ever known is dead just with the mear thought of them. I was cursed, not blessed on my 18th birthday, my day, is no longer a day of rejoice but a day of solace to spend it alone amongst the dead corpses that was my family. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | I run as fast as my legs will take me, I run until the early autumn air scorches my lungs with every inhale of breath.
It had been a sunny day, and a pleasant evening. But now the sun is setting to my back, the last rays reaching through the trees and brush that's growing thicker and darker as I move, the pleasant chill in the air turning into a stinging cold that burns my chest. A fire that runs through my vains to set every muscle alight until my body is a screaming symphony of pain.
And still I run.
This was not supposed to happen. This was not what I was promised. What have I done to deserve this, how can life be this unfair?
---
Lily was the first to turn eighteen. Excited? Yes. But the biggest emotion we shared in silence that day was a deep and humbling fear.
We're all five of us the spitting image of our mother. Our mom, whose True Power is of the A-Class, which meant we were likely to be blessed with similar genetics. Myself, I secretly liked to muse, even more so, as I deemed my messy mop of sun bleached blonde a closer resemblance to my mother's golden waves than my sisters silky chestnut trestles.
Now our father, we love him dearly. But even dad himself didn't blame us for not wanting his genes...
You see, our father is a C-class. And C-class means, well, it basically means you're good as useless.
Shallowfish (those with the power to breathe under water, but only when it's no more than three inches deep), Cagebirds (they can fly, but only in small confined spaces such as elevators) and Wafers (who can turn invisible, but only for five percent, mockingly called Opacity Bugs)... Those are the most frequent C-classes.
Don't get me wrong: In no way are C-classes lesser human beings. We need them, after all. To clean our toilets, paint our houses, pick up our garbage and nanny our kids. There is no shame in being a C-class.
At least, that's what everyone *says*. Out loud, with a polite smile and well-feigned look of sincerity. But we all *think* the same thing.
The thought creeps in as soon as we're old enough to learn the meaning of True Powers, and from that moment on it grows louder and louder until you are so close to your day of truth that your whole mind is consumed by it: *Please, please, I don't want to be a C-class.*
My dad's what they call a Rash. It's a rare type of C-class, and often referred to by some elitist A-classes (only amongst each other, and only behind closed doors) as a D-class. It's not an official classification, but it's what the snobs call someone whose True Power is not only useless, but actually slightly inconvenient.
You see, when my dad touches skin with his bare fingertips (not his own, thankfully, just imagine that!) it causes a very faint itch and nearly invisible discolouration of the skin. In other words: all human beings are basically allergic to my dad's touch. Lucky guy.
Thankfully, he's wicked smart and has a great sense of humour. And as much as our Powers influence our lives, by all means it's not the Power one falls in love with. That would, after all, be as silly as loving someone merely for their beauty.
When Lily healed her first flower on the morning of her eighteenth, a weight had been lifted that all five of us had shared for too long. When Rose's turn came a little over a year later, it would be a lie to claim that that fear did not return to the four of us still waiting to discover our fate.
When Rose, too, proved to be her mother's daughter, the fear was washed clean away as we watched our sister lift the dewdrops from the grass around her and made it swirl and dance and rain all around us.
When Jasmine and Violet's year came, the fear was but a soft dull glow, excitement taking the upper hand, then exploding into euphoria and filling our hearts with joy as Jaz and Vi filled the air with sparks.
And then it was my turn. "You ain't scared at all, Sam?" My friends didn't believe me, but it was true: I wasn't. Not a bit. In fact, I could hardly contain myself. Could hardly wait.
It was only this morning, but it feels a lifetime ago. The five of us tiptoed down the stairs on our bare feet and stood in silence in our backyard on the cold wet grass, looking down the hill over the the woods behind our house. I felt my fathers strong hands grip my shoulders and rub my arms reassuringly, the thin layers of synthetic cloth on his fingertips soft against my goosebump skin.
My mother planted a long, sweet kiss on the top of my head. There were tears in her eyes, near the point of spilling over the cheeks that bear the same freckles as mine.
Lily, Rose, Jasmine and Violet, they gathered 'round me and hugged and squeezed and cried (oh, their tears were flowing freely) and whispered soft words of courage and pride.
But when the first rays of sunlight danced over the treetops and set the woods ablaze in a sea of yellow and green flames, they let go of their littlest sister, hugging each other close as I stepped forward to receive my True Power with open arms.
Oh, how I wish I could give it back.
---
They're faces are swirling around my head like dead leaves caught in a storm. I feel their emotions rip into me as they flash by: Pride, excitement. Confusion, disbelief. Horror, disgust. Fear.
In the eyes of my father, I see it. And for some reason my cruel brain latches onto the image like a tick. This was his greatest fear and I made it reality: Causing his little girl a lifetime of misfortune with his shitty genes. And somehow it felt reassuring: It told me I'd never be alone.
I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut as I stumble on through the brush, my arms tightly crossed around my chest and clenched fists dug deep into my armpits. But my eyes shoot open immediately as another face appears, one that is sweet and kind and loving and the worst thing in the world.
I blink away tears, my eyes burning in sync with my lungs, peering into the semi darkness as the last light makes a futile effort to reach this part of the woods.
But I see her clearly, and my heart hurts so deeply I no longer feel my legs, lungs, or the bloody scratches in my arms and legs and face where thorns and branches left their angry marks.
It's my mom's face I see, the last one I saw before instinct took over my body and lead it down the hill and into the trees, not walking but running, as fast as my legs would take me.
Her face was telling me she loves me, and she'll love me no matter what. The small smile on her lips told me I was safe, and that everything's. And it was a genuine smile, and not a fake smile, and genuine love that I saw in her eyes. But there was something else I saw in her eyes, something that made me run, down the hill and into the trees, run as far as I possibly could from those eyes, those eyes that hurt more than anything else.
It was pity.
I let out a wailing sob, startling myself just as much as the birds who quickly take flight from surrounding trees. And suddenly, all strength leaves my body. I try to pick up my pace again, moving forward faster until my toes catch on a root.
A dull jolt of pain shoots through my numb foot and I cry out in pain and then shock as my balance is lost and I tumble forward, face first and fast. And before I can stop my body's reflex, my arms have unfolded from my chest and my hands are reaching out to break my fall.
My hands land in what feels like mud, and my body's momentum causes me to slide forward before coming to a sudden stop as my head makes painful acquaintance with the trunk of a tree.
I lay still for a moment panting into the dark. Then I slowly push myself up by my elbows and pull my legs into my chest, resting my head and shoulder sideways against the thick tree. I lift my hands, tightly clenched in fists again, to my face, studying them in the near dark. I can see their outline, their shape. They're still the same hands. *My* hands. The hands I've had all my life.
I start sobbing. Uncontrollably, relentlessly, my body a convulsing with each new wave. I cry, and cry more, until long after the forest has grown dark and then lighter as the full moon hangs high above the trees. I cry until my palms are sore where my nails dig into them and I feel as though there's nothing left inside me, nothing left at all. And then I just sit, in silence, the cold night air breathing into my skin and I find myself wishing it would find its way all the way to my bones and into my heart and freeze me to a sweet silent death right there among the trees I love.
I sit until the stars start to fade and the moon has descended, and the sky is turning a paler shade of blue. And then I hear him, so faint, but I know it's him and as though a switch has been flicked I no longer wish for death. We will make it. Together.
Slowly, trembling, I will my cold stiff body into movement. And I realise I smell it now, and a new wave of despair washes over me and nearly pulls me back down. But I fight it off as best I can, pushing myself up against the tree with my elbows.
I wait for the blood to flow back into my cold legs, bend my knees a little. My breath forms small clouds in the cold air. I lift my right hand and extend my index finger. In the dim early morning gloom, it looks the same as always. So harmless.
I slowly reach out my hand and gently touch the bark of the great old tree.
I don't feel the rough bark as I touch it.
For as soon as I do, a loud *squish* fills the are and the great ancient oak transforms into a warm wet pillar of pale brown faeces, hovering in mid-air for a short moment before thundering down with a roaring splash, leaving behind a few dozen startled and shit covered birds.
I wipe the spatters of crap from my cheeks with the back of my hand, realising with some horror that the warmth of the substance feels rather pleasant on my frozen limbs.
I sigh deeply, trying to ignore the smell. Then slowly start to make my way back, following the sound of my dad's voice. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | It was 11:59 on July 12. In a few long seconds, I would be 18 years old. The big one eight. A milestone for any adolescent. Oh sure, I wasn't born *precisely* at midnight, but nobody ever was. All that mattered was that I was born on July 13 and soon, oh so soon, it would be July 13.
But there's a catch. A good one believe it or not. Everyone receives a superpower on their 18th birthday and I'm one of the last of my class to get theirs being a summer baby and all, but it won't matter soon.
I'm sitting in my room alone. Most people celebrate with friends so they can show off, but not me. No sir, if this power is a good one, I want to keep it a secret as long as I can. Hopefully it will be something cool, like ice breath or spontaneous explosions with a snap of my fingers. ...But what if it's lame? One kid got a heightened sense of smell, like beyond animal levels, and now people rip the rankest farts since the funk of 40,000 years all to watch him vomit up last night's dinner. I can't even imagine getting a full whiff of weeks old B.O. Damn, it really sucked to be that kid.
It was a flip of the coin really. Some people would get something exciting, others weren't so lucky. I hope I'm a lucky one. God, how much longer is this minute going to take? I feel like its 12:10 by now or something. Nope, still 11:59. *COME ON!* Ugh, its like being a kid waiting for Christmas all over again. "Is it Christmas yet?" "No, it's still only November." They say a watched pot never boils; well I guess a watched clock never ticks either.
The first thing I'm going to do with my newfound power is run to the nearest open field and test it out. It'll be dark so I won't easily be seen and the emptiness will make for no casualties. Oh man, what if I get a power that will let me rule this world...?
I could be a regular super-villain! Watch as entire cities crumble before my might. Forge a throne of melted tanks and jets and sit from on high as my subjects cater to my every whim. Mwahahahaha I can taste it already. I should really work on my evil laugh, though. I have a bike, not James Bond as an advisory. Is it seriously not 12:00 yet? What the hell man.
I know what I need to do. I'm going to turn away from this clock and when I turn back around, it will midnight. Past that. Hell, I won't even look at the clock. I'll know it's time and I'll just run right outside and see what I got.
But that poor fool had no idea his birthday had already come and gone. The minute the clock struck 12, his power manifested: an eternity of living in the present moment with all the time in the world to accomplish his heart's desires. But all it ever did was drive him to madness. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 15, 14, 13.
"Fuck I'm not going to make it".
12
"How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google".
---
"Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead".
"Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower".
"Very good Jenny, ok cla...."
Ring ring
"Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class".
As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers.
"Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked.
"No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded.
"All right man, well good luck" Chad said.
"Thanks" I responded.
When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail.
The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless.
---
3,2.
Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction.
1, phew just in time.
FUCKING GOOGLE!
Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house.
I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now.
"....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right?
"....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry.
From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"
| I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | I remember my 18th birthday well.
I had woken early that day; eager to learn what my new name would be. I recall that I was excited that my child hood name of "bean pole" was going to be replaced after I received my adult power. I wondered what my power would be.
This name change is normal for our culture and is the reason the 18th birthday is called Name Day here on Olympus. All children eagerly await the day they can both get an adult power and an adult name.
Dad had taken me over to the Powers Bureau early that day. I had passed the powers exam, received my permit, and had then headed over to the pentagram.
The pentagram is named such because it is a courtyard enclosed by the 5 temples of the elements. Each temple faces the same courtyard where every Olympian since Zeus has gone through the Powers Ceremony.
Dad and I entered the pentagram about a half and hour before noon. The sun was almost at it's zenith and would soon be powering up the Locus. The Locus is the machine that grants us our powers and it was invented by Kronos back in the age of Titans; when the only way to gain your power was through accident.
Zeus was the first to use the Locus his father built and since that day, every Olympian has followed in Father Zeus' footsteps.
Yeah, that Zeus is something. His power is the ability to cast thunder bolts, or lightening as we call it today. He is the ultimate bad ass and I idolize him.
I remember hoping my power would be as great as his.
As noon approached, I left my father and proceeded to the Locus with the half dozen other Olympians who had reached the age of accountability with myself.
There were 2 boys and 2 girls from my class at the University of Athena at Olympus. There was also a Satyr from UA at Ithica; they almost always get a big phallus as their power.
We gathered in a circle underneath the secondary lens of the Locus and waited in our white caps and gowns for the ceremony to begin.
I remember kind of hoping I'd get that big phallus power, but I hate the damn goat legs and horns that go with it. Plus, my moms would be upset.
Father Zeus gave a nice benediction and speech as he always does and then proceeded to the altar where the control panel of the Locus rests.
My heart was thumping in my ears, my breathing was a bit ragged, and I could feel my legs tremble. I felt like I had to pass gas, but held it in. It would be embarrassing to fart in front of my class mates.
Zeus said a few words that I can't remember and then he pushed the "button."
As the emerald light of the locus engulfed us, I felt a tingling sensation behind my eyes and in the back of my skull. I also felt my anus burning as I tried my best not to fart.
The light faded and it was over. I started to head to my dad and then suddenly I blacked out.
I remember awaking in the temple of Asclepius with a splitting headache and a real pain in my posterior.
As the fog cleared from my eyes I found my family around me, gazing with sympathy at me.
WTF? What happened?
Apparently, that fart that escaped destroyed half the pentagram and put several Olympians in the temple of Asclepius with me. Millions of dollars in damage.
I am still in shock and more than a little humiliated over this incident.
I think I would much rather my childhood name of "bean pole" than this "ass blaster" name I am now stuck with.
| |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 15, 14, 13.
"Fuck I'm not going to make it".
12
"How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google".
---
"Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead".
"Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower".
"Very good Jenny, ok cla...."
Ring ring
"Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class".
As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers.
"Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked.
"No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded.
"All right man, well good luck" Chad said.
"Thanks" I responded.
When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail.
The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless.
---
3,2.
Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction.
1, phew just in time.
FUCKING GOOGLE!
Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | My mother, with her glass of red, and brother with his glass of beer sat across the table from me, with a glass of milk. When the clock struck twelve I would be a man, old enough to weigh up the pros and cons of drinking alcohol and make a responsible decision. But my mum and brother had already take that decition for me. When the clock struck 11:59 champaigne would be poured to celebrate the fact that I am 18. A man. I would have responsibilities.
Christmas eve had always been more exciting that the night before my birthday. I guess it's because it is an event everyone takes part in. You get presents for both, but Christmas there is a true build up. But nothing prepares you for your 18th. The gift you receive upon becoming an adult defines your adult life. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man.
The glasses were raised on the count of five, they were clinking together to my health at two. I had my first taste of booze at midnight. And I felt nothing good. I knew that my brother was jealous. He didn't know what my power would be, he didn't care as long as it wasn't as useful as his. My mother was worried. Maybe I would be the same as my father...My father! He hadn't be hit by a car. He'd killed himself. And she worried about the same fate befalling me. I didn't want to worry my mum, so I said that I felt no different. 'Alcohol is the same when it's legal' I said with a nervous laugh.
All I could feel was their fear and insecurities. It was horrible. And it didn't stop. Telekinesis? Laborer. Faster than a speeding bullet? Delivery man. Mind reader? Driven from society by the viciousness that lies in the heart and mind of every man, woman and child. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It is traditional, in my family, to lie about the time or date we are born, so there is time for us to prepare for the 'public' Awakening.
Learn how to use our powers, figure out how to hide unsavory aspects of them, and so on.
There are standards to be kept, of course.
Everyone has a power. Some ability that typically represents their soul. Or who they are going to be in life.
There's a lot of debate, however, as to whether the power maketh the man, or the man maketh the power.
I'm a chipper sort. I'm optimistic to the point of absurdity. My teens were spent listening to happy pop music, video games about rolling the world up into pastel coloured balls, and films about sportspeople being successful. Whilst my peers were moody depressives who smoked and thought about apathy and Freud, I thought of rainbows and joyful joyous things.
This was, of course, deliberate.
My family has the very old suspicion that one's powers come from one's mental state at the moment you hit 18.
Whatever genetic marker activates, it's caused by your mood at the time.
This is, of course, unfounded, but honestly, it's about all that stops us being a backstabbing bunch of bastards who would sooner gut you than use the family power, that is, healing.
We can heal others, ourselves, to ridiculous levels. We can use it offensively (overproduction of cells, or even just 'fine your cells don't die now, have cancer'), we can use it defensively (MIGHTY SKIN THAT TURNS BULLETS AWAY), and even use it for scientific understanding of the human body (so if I make this organ grow beyond its natural limit, note how its function ceases to work unless I force it with my power).
The clock was ticking for me.
Only one minute left to go,
I thought of healing. I thought of rainbows. I thought of ensuring that people do not, under my watch, die.
Unbidden thoughts of corpses and dead people rose at the final seconds, and then my hands were enveloped in a black flame.
*Oh. No. Please no.*
I closed my eyes and sensed untold googols of dead matter around me. I clenched my eyes closed deeper and saw a body buried in the garden. Canine.
My old dog, Buster. My parents said he ran away.
My power reacts to the larger body and casts a bolt of black lightning out of the room towards the path of higher dirt than the rest of the sunflower plot in the garden.
Some scrabbing of dirt could be heard through the open window, followed by a raspy
"WOOF"
*Okay. So I've got the power to raise the dead. ... Oh crap they are going to disown me SO hard...* | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I am fucking terrified.
I know I don’t look it right now, but that is only because you weren’t here for the first two days. I think it has been three days. I can't tell time in here. God I was a mess. I was a human puddle of tears and hyperventilation, curled up in the corner of the cell mumbling an incoherent mixture of babbling, and tracks off of Taylor Swift’s greatest hits.
I wouldn’t say I have calmed down now, so much as I ran out of tears, and I passed out from breathing too heavily. When I came to, I was still in this pitch black cell. Still in the exact same position I was in when I went to loopyland. No one had come for me. Well, looks like someone isn’t getting a favorable Yelp review.
It was supposed to be a special day, how could it go so terribly wrong? I remember waking up that day feeling positively giddy. A special outfit prepared the night before. All my makeup lay perfectly in my bathroom so I wouldn’t waste any time getting ready. I had this day planned for months, and why shouldn’t I? It was my Origin Day! You only get one, just like a graduation, or a first car, and and my parents wanted a big celebration for their little girl.
I practically skipped down the stairs to greet my family, the smell of bacon wafting through the house. Mom was holding a pot in her hand, the grease sizzling above the rim. Dad was floating above the door frame, hanging up a big sign saying, “Congrats Super Sarah!” I tried so hard to negotiate about the silly banner. That way, I could try to convince my friends that my parents didn’t think I was 5 years old, but they were stubborn to a point, saying they would have some say, and that it was non negotiable. I shudder to think what the party would have looked like they had complete control. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw an add for a clown on the table one time.
“Oh well, look who is up at a reasonable time?” My mom joked. She set the pot down went in for a hug, unaware her hands were still glowing red.
“Debra” My Dad said, not even turning away from his work on the banner. He knew her too well. We all had the marks to prove her forgetfulness
“Oh, whoops!”
With an apologetic smile, the red hot glow faded from her hands, and wrapped themselves around my torso.
“You look great,” she said, “Like a confident young woman.”
“Thanks. Is everything ready for this afternoon?”
“Almost,” my dad said, coming down to the floor, “ all we need is..”
My dad was cut off as a gust of wind blew through the house, leaving me flat on my ass. My brother laying on top of me.
“the cake.”
Marshall lifted the sweet above his head as if it was a gift from the gods.
“Saved it!” He said.
“Damnit Marshall, watch where you are going!”
“Sarah, language!”
“Sorry dad.”
My brother and I had managed to untangle ourselves from the floor, with help from dad.
“You’re alright, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger” He said. Marshall placed the cake on the table.
“So, has it happened yet? Any explosions? Fireballs?” Marshall said.
“No, we are going to head over to the center around 3, but nothing has happened yet."
“Lame. You better hope you get something cool. I heard of a kid who manifested the ability to spew spiders from from his mouth.”
“Marshall, stop with that nonsense” Mom said.
“Yup,” he continued, “ he couldn't control it, a constant spray of eight legged monsters. The official had to snap his neck.”
Marshall’s little story rewarded him with a smack upside the head from Dad, followed by a stern look. I knew he was joking, but he wasn’t wrong. I was hoping for a cool power. Would I be a Muscle? Maybe a Blur like him? It could be anything, except maybe the spiders. God I didn’t want the Spiders. Now, I would lovingly spew spiders. I would raise them and tame them and call them all Phillip. I would be the goddamned spider queen any day over what I have now.
Because the thing is, I have no idea what I got, but everyone is afraid of it. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | Before I found out my superpower, before "the event", I was filled with boundless anticipation at the prospect of maybe receiving one of the big 3 hero powers, strength, speed or flight.
It wouldn't even have minded receiving an Intellectual power. In hindsight It would have been better if it was a joker power like Steve down the road whose feet squelch loudly whenever he walks no matter what he's wearing on them.
As soon as they find out it's over for me. No one will let me live. I'm to dangerous to exist. It wasn't even my fault but I saw the news reports of "the event" The destruction a single one caused was almost unimaginable 100,000,000 people killed before it finally died. The shell they found where the creature was hatched I immediately recognised.
How could I have known. On my 18'th birthday my family consoled me telling me that while I may not have received an obvious power I certainly did receive one, it was just a matter of time till it discovered.
When I finally thought I'd discovered my power we all had a laugh about it. No big deal just a funny little rock in it. No one wanted to examine it closer so I disposed of it.
If I'd only know then maybe something could have been done. I don't know how long it takes or where they would be now but I can guess the number at least 364 if I average one a day.
The world may end for I am Shitter of dragons.
Edit: grammar, formatting | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. |
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 15, 14, 13.
"Fuck I'm not going to make it".
12
"How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google".
---
"Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead".
"Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower".
"Very good Jenny, ok cla...."
Ring ring
"Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class".
As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers.
"Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked.
"No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded.
"All right man, well good luck" Chad said.
"Thanks" I responded.
When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail.
The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless.
---
3,2.
Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction.
1, phew just in time.
FUCKING GOOGLE!
Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | There was a loud knock on my door and I woke up in a panic. “Mom said get downstairs it’s nearly time!” That was my younger sister. I looked at the clock. It read 12.00pm. I was due to receive my powers at eleven minutes past, as that’s when I was born.
I’ve been doing my best to ignore that it was happening. I always hated being the center of anyones attention. Birthdays were always a nightmare for me. Everyone looking at me with a big smile singing happy birthday while I stood there wishing I wasn’t and that they’d all stop looking at me. Still though, today was a different birthday.
I wonder if I’ll end up with something like my Dad, which is how fast he can move. The guy is seriously fast. He hasn’t driven a car since his eighteenth birthday because he can get wherever he wants faster by running. Mom, she’s got a pretty cool power too I guess, she has some kinetic abilities. Although she was never great at using it. The most she could do was close a door from across the room, every time she tried to move something heavier it fell or broke. I’ve lost count of the amount of times she's dropped a full pot of coffee in the house. I think I’d much rather have Dads than Moms in that case.
I went downstairs to the kitchen and not only was my immediate family there, but everyone. Great. And I’m in my fucking spiderman pyjamas, who has amazing powers, maybe I’ll end with something like his. That would be unreal. Wish I knew what determined what you’ll end up with. “Almost time!” said my Dad with a huge smile stretched across his face. I think he’s more excited than I am. I wish you would all stop looking at me like that. Maybe I won’t get any powers anyway. I might be that guy.
The clock hit eleven minutes past and everyones eyes widened is shock. I started to panic. And I mean really fucking panic. What are they looking at? What happened? “What is it?” I said to them. Nobody answered me. “What the fuck is it?!” I ran over to the mirror on the other side of the room and I knocked over my little sister in the process as she didn’t get out of my way.
Looking in the mirror, there was nothing looking back. Only my family looking at my sister getting up from the floor and then looking around the room.
EDIT; a word. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Teleportation"
Nobody had ever gotten this one before. I was ecstatic for 5 minutes, until I actually tried it. With a POP, I vanished and reappeared in the seat across from me, naked and hairless, missing my clothes, the top layer of my skin, the contents of my GI tract, my fillings... lord knows what else was in that pile across from me. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The fluorescent lights buzzed above my head, the clock ticked away as the cold air rushed up the backless hospital gown. The medical team was preparing for the worst with only a minute left. I couldn't help but think of those who got superstrength or flight. The tier one power sets. My mom has telekinesis so I had a chance and let myself be hopeful. Truth be told, I was a wild card. I could end up with any level.
Tier two wouldn't be so bad. I knew a guy who got the ability to talk to termites. Kinda useless but not harmful. Tier 3 is the equivalent of not having powers. You get the power, usually a pretty cool one, but you don't get the side powers that make it useful. Flight, for example, you can fly sure, but you don't have the ability to breatheI or withstand the cold temperatures if you go too high. Or you can't do it just by thinking about it, you have to physically flap your arms.
Tier 4 is where my father was placed. The powers that cause you physical harm. For years he couldn't figure out his power. He and my mom figured he was a tier 3 and just couldn't activate it. Then I came along. The day I was born my mom watched him hold me for the first time. He looked at me, then at her. His eyes welled up and he bursted with joy. Literally. Just poof, and confetti. If the nurse didn't have cat-like reflexes I would have hit the floor and died too.
I shook away the thought. Fifteen more seconds. I looked to my mom, sitting by my side, she was holding my hand tight.
She was trying to hide the fear but it showed clearly on her face. 3. 2. 1.
"Aaaaaaggh!" I cried out in agony. My blood was on fire. The sheets smoldered around me, my mom had to let go of my hand and she had 3rd degree burns. They tried to sedate me but when the needle broke my skin the fire shot out and boiled the sedative in the syringe. It turned to steam but the doctor had already pushed it into my blood stream. It's on it's way to my heart now. The doctors tell me it's called a gas embolism and I'm going to die.
I can't wait. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house.
I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now.
"....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right?
"....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry.
From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"
| The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Light cascaded through the blinds of the first floor window of his parents home, waking him gently. Simon had been long awaiting this day; the day he'd learn his talent. Many of his friends had already found out their talents and it was just like he'd been told throughout his time in school and by his parents: "Your 18th birthday will define your future". Grant had become a strengther, destined to assist in hard labour, military or emergency service roles. Keith had become a kinetic, adept in manipulating the position of small objects in space with precision using only his mind; a talent that had become well-suited to surgeons, scientists and - when working with teams of kinetics - construction and controlled demolition. Sandra had been unlucky. Sandra's talent had been a rare one. She had the gift of invulnerability. Governments across the world had agreed to share their invulnerables in the largest joint-nation experiment in history - human rights conventions easily sidestepped by newly written laws that came swiftly in the aftermath of 'the event' nearly 50 years ago. In those 50 years there were no statistics for how many invulnerables there bad been or how successful these experiments were. Sandra was picked up the day after her 18th birthday. The joint-governments had set up an efficient task force that detected the unusual electro-magnetic activity associated with invulnerables during their change. Simon prayed he would not end up the same.
10:34. That was his birth time. His parents had shooed his younger sister Emma out of the room. She was too young to watch a change. 30 seconds. Simons palms sweated as he looked into his father's eyes with an overwhelming mix of excitement and fear. 20 seconds. His mother took his hand "It's going to be ok. We're here for you." she assured him. 10 seconds. Simon felt a creeping sensation tingling from the base of his spine slowly climbing to the top of his neck. 10:34. His eyes lit up furiously with a crimson red that made his own mother recoil a few steps back. His whole body shook violently and he crumbled to the floor seizing. He had heard of the pain experienced during the change but nothing could have prepared him for the razorblades inside his head and the fire in his veins. 10:44. His parents were sitting on the floor next to him. They held each others hands and looked visibly shaken. Simons eyes opened. He felt strong, like waking up feeling well after having been ill. His father was first to speak "Are you ok?", Simon nodded. "That was the most violent change I've ever seen." His father continued "Are you sure you're alright?". Simon found his voice "I'm fine, honestly", "how do I find out my talent?". "You've gotta try it dear", his mother said quietly. Simon stood up with his parents. He felt lighter. As if he'd never exerted so little energy to stand up. His thoughts felt quicker. As if he'd been operating in low gear his whole life. Simon effortlessly lifted the piano in the dining room. "I'm a strengther!". "Thank god!" his mother squeaked. "Like father like son." his father quipped. Simon was giddy. He told his parents that he had to go and show his friends, they laughed and let him on his way.
Not 20 minutes later he was at the park with Keith and Grant. Grant was spinning a roundabout close to breaking point while Keith carefully arced a swing back and forth. "Simon! What did you get man!? What's your talent?" Grant shouted as Simon approached the roundabout. "Strengther" he said, as he easily brought Grants self-experimentation with the roundabout to a halt. Grant wrestled the opposite side of the roundabout with Simon but it did not budge. "That's awesome, how are you finding it? Keith asked calmly, still more focused on his swing than on the competition with the roundabout. "Yeah, so far so good", Simon admitted "It's a little strange though". "Feels sudden doesn't it." Grant stated more than asked, giving up and stepping back from the roundabout. "Yeah", Simon agreed "It does". It was at this point that he had noticed Keith struggling to control his swing, as if battling with an unknown force. Simon looked around and saw no one nearby. He looked back and Keith had regained control, visibly annoyed at himself. Tests for kinetic surgeons were among the most gruelling of any job. The three friends played around with their talents for the rest of the afternoon, Keith flicking up objects in the air for Grant and Simon to smash between each other.
On his way home Simon tripped over and landed beside a broken bottle. It wasn't till he'd stood up and walked a few yards that he realised his hand had a shard embedded deep. Maybe strengthers feel less pain than others he thought, absent mindedly pulling the shard from his hand and covering the gash with his jumper sleeve as he continued the walk home. When he came in the door, Emma ran up and hugged him "Missed you Sai-mawn!" she was still struggling with her pronunciations. A large meal had been prepared and a few particularly nice drinks were chosen to "break you into the world of alcohol nicely" as his father had put it. They laughed and joked about how worried they'd been about the change and Simon felt a little closer to adulthood as he shared a beer with his father. As he brushed his teeth and got ready for bed he realised that there was no blood on the jumper from his cut hand. He looked down and turned white as a sheet. His hand was completely fine. There was no sign of the gash the glass had left after being deeply jammed in not a few hours ago.
They would come for him tomorrow. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Barry was nervous. Tonight he'd go to bed a 17 year old and wake up an 18 year old with his power.
What category would he get? There's the three categories: Body, Mind, and Mobility. Body can be anything from strength, to scales. Mind could be super intelligence, to knowledge of a specific category. Mobility could be flight, to the ability to vibrate.
There's no telling what I'll get from my parents. They're one of the few times a major fell in love with a minor power. My father has the ability to fill any container or vessel with the non-alcoholic beverage of his choice. My mother has super intelligence, and never forgets anything. Anything.
I felt my eyes getting heavy and the world going dark. I dreamed of all the things I could do, all the people I could save. All the girls I could pull.
When I woke up I lay in bed, trying to figure out if I felt any different. Nothing so far. I carefully started testing all my limbs, making sure I didn't break anything. Nothing. I checked my skin. Still looks normal.
I looked around my room. My eyes fell on the glass of water next to my bed, and I knew.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, falling from my bed to the floor.
My father found me huddled and crying.
"What? Barry, what is it?"
I pointed to the glass of water, "That ain't juice."
My father was confused. He grabbed the glass, and poured it into the trash, them materialized some orange juice in the glass, holding it out to me.
I sobbed to him, "That... That is juice."
My power? Knowledge of Juice. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
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00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | **10 seconds.**
My dad was able to fly.
**9 seconds.**
My mum had the ability to heal wounds.
**8 seconds.**
On your 18th birthday, you recieve a superpower, my birthdy is in
**7 seconds.**
It is something you just know. "Like a switch in your mind" my dad always says.
**6 seconds.**
My mum and dad look at me, just as curious as I am.
**5 seconds.**
I hope it's not something useless, like Eva, my sister.
**4 seconds.**
She has the ability to open doors from a very long distance.
**3 seconds.**
Only open them, she can't close them.
**2 seconds**
A lot of scientists did research, but awesome superpowers vs. lame superpowers did not seem to run in the family.
**1 second**
I close my eyes.
**0 seconds.**
The ability to walk halfway through walls.
-------------------
**wow Gold!** i never expected to get gold, so thank you very much anon! You are amazing! Thank you :) | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The examiner cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Say that again, son."
"Prostate cancer. June 23rd, 2032."
The examiner laid down his pen and clipboard. Tears began to well in his eyes and his hands begin a slight shake. "Thank you. I... I think we're done here."
I'm escorted to the door of the small testing room where the same nurse who led me in is outside waiting for me. She is still breathing heavily. Trying to compose herself and not look me in the eyes. She doesn't have to.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Is there anything I can do? I have a daughter."
"I don't know if it works that way. I'm sorry."
She leads me to the discharge desk where I'm handed back a stack of paper work. The receptionist seems excited. She seems to genuinely enjoy her job and is giddy to look at my results. Her excited smile quickly fades to a frown. Her eyes lock with the nurses teary eyes, and then to mine. Her head trembles from side to side, as if begging me to stay silent. Stabbing. Pretty soon, as far as I can foresee. I learn quickly to keep my mouth shut and spare her.
As the nurse exits back into the hallway, I can hear her speaking to one of the orderlies I saw in the earlier. "Hey, Frank. Do you think you can drive me home today?"
It doesn't work that way, I think to myself. Frank too. Today.
As the cab pulls up to the front of the facility, a sigh of relief escapes my lips. The cabbie. He has a while. It isn't so bad.
"Where to?" He asks.
Now it's my turn to start shaking.
"Home," I say. "I'd like to see my mom and dad." | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It really sounds good on paper. Everyone gets a superpower. Oh, there are people with awesome powers. Eki Magnusson, the current president of the great and bountiful human empire has the gift of luck; whatever choice he makes will turn out for the best. Since he was eighteen, his ambition to find challenges pushed humanity centuries into the future within a decade. He was the first of us; he gave us the gifts, and since, humanity has become the center of the Milky Way's coalition of species.
Ten minutes until my eighteenth birthday, when my gift will come. I always wanted something flashy, like matter manipulation, where I could build skyscrapers with my mind. Or perhaps something interesting, like the aura readers, able to help those in need in just the way that can fix them in truth (and also, they know which girl is right for them at a glance, that's pretty sweet). The mathemagicians were kinda scary though, being one of them seems tough.
My best mate, Jerry, killed himself. It's rare, but it happens. He got telepathy, the poor sod. While very handy, and help greatly in things like assessing who would be a proper ambassador to which alien species, first contact missions, and so on... it's just. Well, he was always a gentle guy, and those are the type to suffer from telepathy most. It sucked. He'd be awesome with anything that could use creativity and intelligence, but sometimes people just get unlucky.
It's two minutes until it starts. My mom and dad are in the living room. They don't want to intrude, but they're waiting. They'll want to help me figure out what power I have. Dad's an empath, so he'll help me get through it, after all, he always helps his patients. Mom's invulnerable, so even if I freak out she'll be able to handle it... she took a vacation day for this. My big brother is an illusionist, far too rare a power, and he can't be home for this. All of my family has extremely rare powers, my uncle is the first person who could create gateways for instantaneous travel between locations. Maybe I'll be fabulously rich and famous like him.
Oh hey, it's a minute past. Nothing happened, so I suppose I'm safe. Time to bite the bullet and go see the parents.
I walked towards the living room, and looked at my dad. Instantly, I saw a vision of my mom, crying as she stabs him over and over. Then it was just him again. I ran away. What else could I do? My mom popped up on my left, and I saw her in a padded cell, age upon her, as she stopped breathing. Out of the house, just needed to get out.
People were walking in the street. I could see how each and every one of them died. One in a car accident. Two on operating tables. I shut my eyes, but the visions kept coming. I screamed. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I woke up this morning and the pain in my throat was finally gone, the scream I let out two day ago...or was it three...tore up my vocal cords. The time between that scream and now is a jumble of crying, dark rooms, and kicking every family member out of my room as they tried to make contact with me. I swing my feet out of bed and get dressed, not willing to turn the light on yet. I walk around the shards of glass from my smashed mirror and wash the dried tears off my face in the sink. Deep breaths still cause a tingle in my chest but I take a few, the time for wallowing in self pity is over, I feel the push in my chest to get out into the world and begin to walk the path I have been set upon.
Brad is outside my room in the hallway, I have been dreading him the most, might as well get it over with, I meet his eyes, and manage to keep it together. He looks exactly like I used too, a young man just hitting adulthood, mop of brown hair, longer than I usually keep mine, skinny frame that we both struggled to put muscle on. He was born fifteen and a half minutes before me and we have always been there for each other, his eyes show that he has no idea what to say to me. He opens his mouth to ask the question everyone wants the answer to, but it doesn’t cross his lips. I walk down into the kitchen, pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot my father always makes and sit at the table. My parents sit and look at me as I stare at the mug and my brother sits down next to me. “OK, I am ready to tell you.”
Three days ago was the celebration, I see it was three days with a glance to the cat calender on the wall, our family tradition is a simple family gathering and a dinner. My father set the timer a week ago and it is now counting down from ten minutes. My brother is going first, he will know his power before mine is revealed. He pushes me and tells me to get ready for 15 minutes of torture before I can defend myself, this is his favorite joke, I indulge him, he can barley sit still he is so excited. It is always different, even for identical twins. The power, fully developed and understood, becomes a part of you at the moment of your eighteenth birthday, from what my father said, it is just like discovering another limb you just know what it is and how it works. My father can see through a wall, not walls, just one at a time, not a huge help to a computer science professor, but always knows when the mail is coming. The falcon my mother transforms into is a sight to see diving through the air and into our backyard, she still tries to get Brad and I to try mouse meat.
The clock hits zero and Brad bursts out laughing, he runs around the table smacking me in the back of the head each time he makes a circuit, snickering each time. “ITS FORCE REDIRECTION, try to hit me, do it.” I feint a slap then aim my fist at his stomach, just as I am about to connect my fist slides to the left and I spin off without touching him. He is already talking about a fighting career is the unlimited power class, hopefully his power works on laser beams.
My father is busy trying to reset the clock for the exact time and I am trying to help, but each time I focus Brad smacks my eyes out of focus. I tell him to knock it off and he finally settles down for my reveal. He set if for too long, as the clock hits seven seconds, it hits me, the mantle of my power folds over me like a lead blanket. The scream pours out of my lungs, taking with it any hope I had for my future. I flip the table and Brad catches it midair and directs it back to its familiar place in the center of the room, but I am already in my room sobbing on the other side of the door.
The coffee is burnt, it always is, but the heat and caffeine help me say the first words I have said in days. “I will save thousands of lives, in fact I will save Wendy Harrington's life today. I can feel the pull getting stronger right now, I feel a hundred tethers to my soul as it is, but Wendy's is strongest. She lost her baby today, no one knew she was pregnant, but she poured all her heart into that tiny life growing inside her, and now it is gone.”
The pull is too strong and I get up to leave the house,”Cmon, I will show you.” My mother, tears already in her eyes is the first to follow me. Wendy lives two houses down so with barley a thought I am in her bedroom, she is in the fetal position around the orange plastic bottle, pills melting in the pool of spit on the sheets. I lay my hand on her back and open myself to the core, It feels kinda like that time Brad and I stole a bottle of vodka from my parents and drank it in the garage. My head swims like then, but without the pleasant numbness. The despair is like a vise around my soul, but the Oxycontin now flowing through my veins is already slowing my heart. As my eyes close, I feel Wendy's tears hit my face and she strokes my hair, her “thank you” echos in my ear as I fade away.
The tug awakens me, I feel it swing my legs off the bed and propel me out the front door and into the street. Mr. Grogin lives 45 miles away, but I have time, I will make it there in time, I will always make it there in time. At least he owns a gun, should be faster this time. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | My mother said I popped out of her at 18:12. Well it was 18:11 and we are about to find out if her memories were accurate! One flippin more minute! I’ve literally been waiting for 18 years for this moment.
All my friends are already 18. They all have their superpowers. Do you know how hard it is to be the only underage guy in my group? Every day is like being the only guy that can’t taste in a group of professional ice cream testers.
30 seconds. My buddy Jared has the power to skip back or ahead 30 seconds whenever he feels like it. I’d trade my little sister for that power right now.
My entire family is here for this. Of course it’s the biggest event in a young man’s life, but it feels good to see them around the table. They can be out of it a lot of the time, but seeing them smile as we count down together is pretty exciting.
I have thought a lot about what power I would love to get. It does no use to wish - it’s completely random as far as anyone can tell. The moment 18 years after you breathe your first lungful of air you get a superpower. You can’t change it or choose it or trade it. This is how things work.
A girl in my class can fly. She was voted most likely to succeed after that. Literally the sky is the limit for her.
I hope I can fly.
15 seconds.
My mom is beaming at me. She’s so proud of everything I do. No matter what power I get she’ll be super supportive. I knew a guy who’s power was to change the colour of his shirt at will. His mom apparently disowned him. Came from a long line of teleporters and he just didn’t cut the mustard.
My mom would never disown me.
My dad might though.
I’ve been praying that my power isn’t to change my sex at will or something like that. Not that it’s a bad power, but my dad is convinced those people are… subconsciously different. He’s a bit old fashioned you could say. Let’s just hope I get something cool. Super speed or something.
5 seconds. The clock seems like it’s going in slow motion for some reason.
4 seconds. Dad, Mom, Sister, even Grans is here.
3 seconds. Come on flying power.
2 seconds. Wow this is suspenseful.
1 seconds. Aaaaand…
Ding.
The power fills me. Mom was right. For a second it feels like I’m dowsed in cold water then I can feel the power, nestled in my mouth. I can taste the power!
I look at Mom, beaming expectantly, and my mouth fills with this tepid metallic taste, like a sewer pipe that has been cleaned with way too much bleach. I stick my tongue out in revulsion, but nothing changes. My Mom recoils from me as the taste circles my throat as if trying to get to my stomach.
In horror I look to my Dad and the taste changes. This time it’s the unmistakeable taste of shit. With it comes a chunky texture that settles on the inside of my cheeks.
My Sister jumps in with excitement, eager to hear what my power is and my mouth fills up with a streamy, milky shitty taste. Oh my god I almost pass out.
And I do pass out when I look at Gran. Her taste is so bad I can smell it from my mouth.
Thankfully darkness knocks out my senses.
When I wake up it’s my Mom there with me. The bleached taste fills my mouth again. It’s not near as bad as the others was.
As the world comes back to me the realization of what has happened comes too.
I’ve received my power.
And it’s the last power I would have ever dreamed of, something I wouldn’t wish on any human - not even a terrorist.
I can taste someones asshole just by looking at them.
Shit. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I woke up on my 18th birthday and - aside from the obvious nervousness - I felt exactly the same. Of course, this was to be completely expected. After a wonderful birthday breakfast with my family beset with gifts, well-wishes, and gentle teasing, my father volunteered to be the one to fly me to the local Scientific Unlocked Potential Eradiation Reactor to receive the present we all knew I was anxiously awaiting: my power.
My dad was a "flyer", naturally. He was one of the 20% of the population or so that received the ability to hover through the air. It was a fairly common power, although each flyer seemed to have different top speeds and acceleration. The government said it wasn't so much as turning off gravity as telekinetically controlling micro gravity wells.
It was well over most people's heads, well, over everyone's heads except the less than 1% of the population who were "thinkers," bestowed with the power of seemingly unlimited scientific aptitude. They were the rarest powers, but they were probably the most valuable since they were able to refine the process that gave humans their powers.
On the flight over my father reassured me that he and my mother would love me no matter what happened. He joked that my mom's side - full of speedsters - wouldn't mind if I could suddenly break the sound barrier, but that it made no difference what I was gifted with. His voice was lost in the wind as my mind was racing with nervous anticipation.
We landed at the Reactor and entered into the lobby, currently host to a handful of other nervous, but giddy, 18 year olds. For such a miraculous process, the government had done an exemplary job of dulling the entire affair. After a mountain of sign-in paperwork, I awaited my turn.
My name was called an hour later and I was escorted alone to the Reactor, deep inside the facility. The Reactor core was a cavernous, five-story column, large enough for hundreds of people to stand in at the base. At that moment, I was the only one standing in it. The government thinkers stood outside reinforced doors and sent reassuring messages through the intercom. They flipped the switch. Nothing happened.
For the ensuing hours there was confusion. I had gained no observable power. My head swimming, the thinkers' voices blended together. "Unparalleled." "Anomaly." "We've never seen this before." They advised to keep me overnight for full observation.
My father and I had a reassuring chat outside before he left. I'll never forget how worried he looked and I'll never forget his words to me. "We'll love you no matter what." I'll never forget the hug. I'll never forget how scared I was. And I'll never forget when they told me hours later how he died when he fell from the sky after his powers faded.
It was that day I learned that I was given the one power no one in our society wanted: I permanently take away others' powers through touch or being in close proximity. Worse, the area of effect of my "power" was unstable. It could be a meter, it could be a mile. Or, as a leading thinker said, I "have the power to singlehandedly bring the Golden Age of humanity to an end."
I am alone. I am feared. I am hunted. And I'm scared. | The time was 23:59 on 3rd of May. One minute shy of my 18th birthday. "YIPPEEEE I'M NEARLY AN ADULT!!" I excitedly screamed in my head. No more people telling me what to do, I can buy alcohol, I can gamble. No more will people treat my like utter cow shit. I can literally do whatever I want. I can leaving this hate filled town and start a new life..... and I can do it in secret as an invisible man. Kevin Bacon did it in Hollowman and he had bucket fulls of craic. I had it all ahead of me and more.
My elder brother teased me for weeks... well years leading up-to now, doing the typical brother thing by calling me a "faggot" and a "useless piece of shit", a "physically and mentally weak excuse for a son/brother" and tried to make me jealous of the fact that when he had turned 18 the year before he was nicely graced with super human strength. He joked that because I'm such a pussy my power will be the power of love (he was a Huey Lewis fan)
His strength was not a gift for everyone though, as being the *great* bigger brother that he is, he frequently tormented me. All through my life, his already large stature was a burden for me as he always picked on me, pushed me and made me ashamed of my 100lb frame. He made me feel so low and he did it all in front of his school buddies who were quick to join in tormenting me. I was a laughing stock. Bullied for years by kids at school and adults alike and severely depressed because of it. I remember a few weeks ago he used his super human strength to slingshot me a staggering 1 mile into the air. As I free-falled back down towards the 'safety' of his Herculean arms, I remember thinking once again "Please...please let my power be invisibility. I'll do anything".
So here we are... 10 seconds to go. I prayed and I prayed to be invisible despite not believing in any deity, but a desperate teenager can surprise you by the lengths they'll go to to be accepted or to make sense of a bad situation. "Please please I just want to NOT be noticed... I can't take it anymore"
5..."invisible"......4......"please"......3........"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST"......2........"COME ON HOLLOW MAN".......1....
00:00
00:00
00:00
00:00
The clock flashed midnight. Nothing. Strange? I don't feel different. Queue a torrent of text messages from randomers and family members willing me to kill myself and that the world is better off without me. WTF!?!? This is so strange. This is just people pulling my leg. My brother must have organised this little 'treat'. I checked Facebook for the inevitable happy birthday messages from people I haven't seen since I was 12. But yet again... more hateful messages. My newsfeed was peppered with *Tammy has joined the group 'WE HATE JIMMY'.* I thought to myself FUCK THIS and went to sleep.
I awoke the next day yet again feeling about as loved as a broken set of headphones. Looked out the window... great... rainy day as usual (fucking Irish weather). But when I looked down to the street I witnessed something I will never forget. An angry mob holding "Jimmy out" signs. My own mother was throwing rocks at my window shouting "I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU"....... WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??!
It was then I realized what power the Gods have gifted me. The power of **global notoriety**. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I yelled.
By now the mob was being led by super-bro. Smashing there way towards my bedroom. I vowed not to give them the satisfaction of catching me, so with tears down my cheeks I grabbed my papa's hunting rifle and put the barrel in my mouth. I pulled the trigger. BANG!
I got my wish. I was now invisible. Happy birthday. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Sorry I'm late guys," I mumbled after my friend Sam opened the door to their house. I stood on the threshold and after a moment's pause, he just gave an awkward smile. "Nah, don't worry about it, you're the guest of honor anyways. Happy birthday, by the way." I was waved through.
"Thanks," I said, stepping in. "Traffic was horrendous." I knew for years that it would have been. This year my birthday was going to fall on a Friday, and I had been (ironically) born in an ambulance as my mother in labor had been held up in traffic and (as they say) I couldn't wait to come out. So my Imbuing had been predestined from birth to be like this. I just wish I hadn't lost track of time on Reddit. Dad was so mad when he caught me still in my pajamas and hopping back and forth between /r/Powers and /r/WatchPeopleImbue. "It's research!" I had yelled after him. Luckily I still had a half hour left when we showed up. It would have been embarrassing (if not dangerous) to have your Imbuing in stop-and-go traffic.
My family walks in after me. Most of my older friends were already here, as well as just about everyone's parents. It had long been tradition among our people that only those who were already Imbued could attend an Imbuing party--it was expected that one of them would take me on as apprentice to help me cope with my new abilities. All my preimbued friends were already off doing who knows what on Spring Break. Hopefully the Mentoring wouldn't take long, so I'd able to run off and join them.
Now we just have to pass the time. I wish it would just be over already. Trying to do idle chit chat is harder with adults, but Sam did a pretty good job finding at least one or two older persons from all the known Power Disciplines. Bored to death but I know all of this rigamarole is necessary. Tradition, tradition, tradition.
It's the last five minutes. Time for all of us to file out into the field out back. Sam's family's back porch was festively decorated, finger foods and tumblers of punch neatly laid out on tables, the professional videographer fiddling with his cell. He looked as bored as I felt. Can't blame him.
I don my oversuit. It reminded me of a mountain climber's vest. Sam and some of the adults begin attaching the traditional chains to the stakes already fastened in the ground. There's nothing traditional about these; it's more for the safety of the crowd than anything else. If my power is dangerous and I get out of control or panic, the restraints will keep anyone else from getting hurt. Thankfully, someone remembered to bring a blink 'n' spell; it was mounted on my head in case my power made it dangerous for me to speak or open my mouth.
It's ten seconds now. Everyone's counting off until the 18th second of 17:58, the moment I first drew breath back in that ambulance. The broken clouds finally let some sun out. It's beautiful. My ennui finally breaks with it and I can finally get into the moment. I smile at the crowd. The videographer earning his pay. I look over at Sam, standing off with the rest. She smiles back. Our eyes meet.
3 seconds.
2 seconds.
1 second.
Someone sets off an ear-splitting airhorn as a practical joke. Are you kidding me.
I feel nothing strange, but that airhorn sounds like it's broken. The pitch of the deafening noise begins to peter out, faster, like a Shepard Tone. Joke's on them, haha.
Everyone else pretended not to hear, or turned to give the pranker a dirty look, or facepalmed themselves.
All continued to watch with anticipation. I felt nothing. Was I a 'dud'? No, everything seemed to go in slow motion. But that is only supposed to happen in moments of extreme stress or danger. I'd say yes on the stress, but the danger?
...
Still waiting, people. Nothing's happening. I feel fine. Maybe the chains are interfering somehow? I hoped for something spectacular like x-ray vision, maybe teleportation (chains? what chains!). I'd even have settled for a breath weapon or instant grandmastery in chess though I stank at the game.
Still looking at Sam, I want to say something to her, convey these thoughts of confusion and deflated anticipation.
...
...
She only had the same look of inspired optimism and hopefulness. Gosh, she's beautiful. Wow. Were'd that come from? I felt something 'click' in me, like a switch thrown, a spark, a realization. I mean, come on. we're just friends. But like a flash from a camera, I was seeing an entirely new person there. Someone I could...love.
Odd waves swept over me. Stomach churning. Heart swelling. A lump in my throat. Wait, what? It's just Sam, come on! Like she'd ever date a guy like me.
...
...
...
I tried to say something but it seemed to be interrupted. The lump in my throat I swallowed and cleared. I sent the unconscious impulse to draw breath, make my lips move, my lungs exhale, to play the warm air across my larynx and cast my voice upon the wind.
Nothing happened.
I willed my eyes to move.
They remained fixed on Sam's.
What is this? What's going on? Am I asleep and suddenly become aware of total body paralysis? My consciousness flooded with fear and terror.
No, not dreaming.
Not sleeping.
This is too real.
...
...
...
...
Then a strange realization. I should have felt the pains of anoxia fill my chest from lack of breath.
Then a sensaation of 'flitter' across my eyes, muscles pulling against the orbs, and I was no longer looking directly into Sam's expectant gaze.
The sensation came of air passing across my lips, lungs beginning to expand.
Well, this isn't paralysis, not a dream.
Everything just seems...slowed down...
...
...
...
...
...
So, I'm like the Flash now? I yelled with the voice in my head. Only this power is confined to my brain and nowhere else??? I began to panic, a mental scream in horror, but...
I remembered the blink 'n' spell. Thank the powers whoever remembered to bring it. This is going to take forever to explain, I thought with a mental sigh, as I set myself to the mental exercise of formulating precisely the wording of what I wanted to say. Horror turned to resignation. It's going to take a few hours of subjective time willing my slothful biomechanical shell of meat to tediously blink each letter.
I was never that great of a speller, either.
| Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 3, 2, 1
*Pain*
Agonizing, excruciating. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I felt my legs give way. The fall would have hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my head. I clutched at my face, writing. Through the screen of agony I could faintly make out the voices of my family. They were shouting, talking over each other. Another wave of pain hit me. I tore at my head, at my hair, and it came out in great, loose chunks. My scalp burned. I could feel the skin tearing, stretching, as though my skull was growing. The skin split, and I grasped at my head to stop the bleeding, but there was none. There was no skull beneath my scalp. There was something else. Something spiny, slimy. I felt a thrill, an utterly alien sensation as my fingers grazed it.
I was seized by a fit of coughing. By the third cough, blood was spattering from my mouth. By the sixth, flakes of flesh were coming up. By the twelfth, a viscous, black liquid was poring from my mouth. I tried to scream, but I could only gurgle. I looked up at my family, but I couldn't see. I clutched at my eyes and found empty sockets, liquid skin flowing from within, filling them. Whatever was happening to me, it was getting faster. I could feel, as if from a distance now, my arms and legs stretching, changing shape, bones breaking, muscles tearing. Something thick fell from my head and I grasped for it blindly with unnatural, talon-like fingers. The moment I touched it, I knew what it was. My face.
I tried to scream again, and this time there was a noise. A high pitched shriek, like a dog whistle, but distorted, masked, as though it came from deep underwater. I remember feeling another overwhelming surge of agony before I blacked out.
When I came to, things were different. My senses had returned, but better, sharper. I could feel the parameters of my body and it was...glorious. I was larger now, stronger. I had more limbs, limbs that stretched into other dimensions, limbs that stretched past what even I could see. I could feel the ichor running through my body, the oxygen and CO2 passing in and out of my wet, slimy skin. I opened my eyes. Oh, I had so many eyes. Eyes everywhere, eyes that saw color, eyes that was heat, eyes that saw life, eyes that saw gravity and space and time. Some of my eyes fell on my surroundings. I was in the ruins of a house, of my house, the house that had belonged to me before, when I was nothing, when I was a speck in the cosmic scheme. I was surrounded by creatures. By humans, small insignificant little humans. I could feel, I realized, them attacking me. Bullets, fire, lasers, all manner of superpowered assaults. They meant nothing. They were the bites of gnats on a behemoth. I turned my gaze, found my parents hurling beams of fire and ice at me. I raised a tendril of my vast substance, and they collapsed, shaking, convulsing, strange limbs sprouting from their screaming bodies. I made them beautiful. I would make them all beautiful. I raised more limbs, and they all collapsed, the humans gathered around me, but more as well, humans for miles, twitching, shaking, convulsing. Evolving. I became aware of a whistle. A shift at the edge of my consciousness. I turned my eyes upward. Something was falling towards me. Something important. Something powerful. Something beautiful. I reached out to touch it.
"The mission was a success, sir. The Craft-class has been obliterated."
The director of the Council on Ultra-Human Entities leaned back in his chair. He sighed. The nuclear response had been authorized the moment the Craft-class had popped up on their instruments. That didn't mean that it wasn't a weight on his conscience.
"And its creations?" the director asked, "were they all destroyed in the blast?"
His assistant, a young man with high-level clairvoyance, closed his eyes, as if in deep thought.
"Yes sir. All instances have been annihilated."
The director nodded. They'd dodged a bullet. Half of New York City was a nuclear wasteland. Compared to the last three ultra-human appearances, this was an unqualified success. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | Dear Diary,
Since this is my first time writing in you, I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Summer.
I turn 18 tomorrow, which is pretty exciting. I mean, I'm totally looking forward to finding out what my power is.
In the long history of superpowers, there have been quite a few doozies. Elemental control, super strength, superhuman intelligence -- all the things that heroes and legends are made of.
I wouldn't mind having a power like that. Being able to control an element sounds like it'd be a lot of fun, and I'd be able to work with my mom.
Everyone says I'm a lot like her. My hair is the same shade, my eyes are the same colour... who knows, maybe I'll be able to control fire, just like her.
I guess we'll find out in a few hours.
---
**The next day.**
---
Dear Diary,
It's Summer, again.
I found out what my power was, today. When I woke up in the morning, everything felt normal.
We did the usual birthday stuff. Cake for breakfast, mom and dad and Nate (that's my brother), were all super excited and asked me what I got.
I didn't know yet, obviously. Hadn't felt anything. Dad told me that it could be a few hours before I notice anything, so I went to school, and I promised I'd call them as soon as anything happened.
Well, it turns out that my dad was right.
When I got to school, I gave my best friend a hug, and when I did, I felt the tiniest little tingle.
That meant something, right? Yep. Turns out it did.
When I let go, my hands felt weird.
Like there was something stuck to them -- and so I look at my hands, and that's when I found out.
My hands were..different. They were certainly noticeable.
*Glittery*, you could say.
The rest of the day, anyone looking for me knew just how to find me.
All they had to do was follow the trail I was leaving.
Diary, my superpower sucks. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. |
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | 15, 14, 13.
"Fuck I'm not going to make it".
12
"How the hell did my life come to this? Oh that's right, Google".
---
"Now class can anyone summarize how it came to be that the U.S. and Southern Canada gained superpowers?" asked Ms. Thomas causing a few hands to go up. "Yes Jenny go ahead".
"Well after the success of Googles worldwide drone based Internet the company bought out Twitter and Facebook, combining the two creating Twicebook+ in the year 2020 once again revolutionizing the world as we knew it. Then in 2021 after months of unrest caused by the yet again enhanced spread of information, the North Korean dictatorship wanted to take ahold of things before a civil war broke out. So the North invaded the South and reunited the two countries in order to form the United Korean Republic, lead by Kim Jung Dil. And then in 2022 to get back at the U.S. for creating/harboring Google they launched a widespread nuclear attack on the West coast of the U.S. but it failed when the missiles were shot down half way across the Pacific. Shortly after, there was mass panic over nuclear fallout but towards December of that year U.S. citizens started to develope unexplained powers and from then on we have been the worlds first super powered superpower".
"Very good Jenny, ok cla...."
Ring ring
"Ok guys before you leave read chapter 12 starting on page 220 and write a 3 paragraph summary to turn in tomorrow at the start of class".
As I got up to leave Jenny came over and we chatted on the way to our cars. We parted ways once I came to my car with her wishing me a Happy Birthday along with many others doing the same as I unlocked my car door. The reason so many people were wishing me Happy Birthday was because I am the first of my class to turn 18 thus being the first of my class to gain ones powers.
"Hey Jones, you gonna keep us on the edge of our seats until tomorrow or what?" the football teams starting quarterback Chad asked.
"No I'll be putting it on Twicebook+ as soon as I know so don't you worry" I responded.
"All right man, well good luck" Chad said.
"Thanks" I responded.
When I got home I found a surprise party thrown by my entire family and as 8:01pm rolled around (the time of my birth) I felt no different. Then it happened, I felt like I was pulled out of my body and I saw my mothers coffee mug break into a thousand pieces as it crashed to the ground. As I was sucked back into my body I knew my power, clairvoyance. And before I revealed it to my family I walked over to my mom and moved her mug causing my grandfather to erupt with excitement as he to has clairvoyance. The rest of the night we tried over and over to trigger my power again, but to no avail.
The next day as I got to school I received much praise from my classmates as they all tried to trigger it but still nothing. Then at about noon I was again pulled out of my body as I once more saw Ms. Thomas knock her mug off her desk. As I warned her many of my classmates were awestruck at what happened, but I was confused, what's up with these God damn mugs? Over the course of the week it happened twice more all across the school. On that Saturday when I went to have my power confirmed and registered at the local PRD (Power Registration Department) run by the government, they confirmed my clairvoyance but that I can only see mugs breaking 15 seconds in the future at a radius of 500ft. Completely useless.
---
3,2.
Now 4 years later I own a coffee mug factory and spend my day running across the factory floor saving the 5 cents it costs to make the mugs from crashing to the ground while the rest of my class saves the world from destruction.
1, phew just in time.
FUCKING GOOGLE!
Edit: Grammar and overall flow of story, would've done when posted but didn't have time | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Teleportation"
Nobody had ever gotten this one before. I was ecstatic for 5 minutes, until I actually tried it. With a POP, I vanished and reappeared in the seat across from me, naked and hairless, missing my clothes, the top layer of my skin, the contents of my GI tract, my fillings... lord knows what else was in that pile across from me. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The fluorescent lights buzzed above my head, the clock ticked away as the cold air rushed up the backless hospital gown. The medical team was preparing for the worst with only a minute left. I couldn't help but think of those who got superstrength or flight. The tier one power sets. My mom has telekinesis so I had a chance and let myself be hopeful. Truth be told, I was a wild card. I could end up with any level.
Tier two wouldn't be so bad. I knew a guy who got the ability to talk to termites. Kinda useless but not harmful. Tier 3 is the equivalent of not having powers. You get the power, usually a pretty cool one, but you don't get the side powers that make it useful. Flight, for example, you can fly sure, but you don't have the ability to breatheI or withstand the cold temperatures if you go too high. Or you can't do it just by thinking about it, you have to physically flap your arms.
Tier 4 is where my father was placed. The powers that cause you physical harm. For years he couldn't figure out his power. He and my mom figured he was a tier 3 and just couldn't activate it. Then I came along. The day I was born my mom watched him hold me for the first time. He looked at me, then at her. His eyes welled up and he bursted with joy. Literally. Just poof, and confetti. If the nurse didn't have cat-like reflexes I would have hit the floor and died too.
I shook away the thought. Fifteen more seconds. I looked to my mom, sitting by my side, she was holding my hand tight.
She was trying to hide the fear but it showed clearly on her face. 3. 2. 1.
"Aaaaaaggh!" I cried out in agony. My blood was on fire. The sheets smoldered around me, my mom had to let go of my hand and she had 3rd degree burns. They tried to sedate me but when the needle broke my skin the fire shot out and boiled the sedative in the syringe. It turned to steam but the doctor had already pushed it into my blood stream. It's on it's way to my heart now. The doctors tell me it's called a gas embolism and I'm going to die.
I can't wait. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house.
I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now.
"....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right?
"....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry.
From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"
| A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Barry was nervous. Tonight he'd go to bed a 17 year old and wake up an 18 year old with his power.
What category would he get? There's the three categories: Body, Mind, and Mobility. Body can be anything from strength, to scales. Mind could be super intelligence, to knowledge of a specific category. Mobility could be flight, to the ability to vibrate.
There's no telling what I'll get from my parents. They're one of the few times a major fell in love with a minor power. My father has the ability to fill any container or vessel with the non-alcoholic beverage of his choice. My mother has super intelligence, and never forgets anything. Anything.
I felt my eyes getting heavy and the world going dark. I dreamed of all the things I could do, all the people I could save. All the girls I could pull.
When I woke up I lay in bed, trying to figure out if I felt any different. Nothing so far. I carefully started testing all my limbs, making sure I didn't break anything. Nothing. I checked my skin. Still looks normal.
I looked around my room. My eyes fell on the glass of water next to my bed, and I knew.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, falling from my bed to the floor.
My father found me huddled and crying.
"What? Barry, what is it?"
I pointed to the glass of water, "That ain't juice."
My father was confused. He grabbed the glass, and poured it into the trash, them materialized some orange juice in the glass, holding it out to me.
I sobbed to him, "That... That is juice."
My power? Knowledge of Juice. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The clock ticked over and chimed.
I was 18...
My grandmother spontaneously dropped her tea and splashed my foot. The burn caused me to shriek. "Well..", I said as I wiped my foot, "I can still feel pain..."
The rest of my family politely chuckled and waited.
"I don't know... I didn't feel anything. How do I know? What do I do?"
"Well... try something...", my dad said as if it was this obvious thing. It felt like trying to exercise a muscle you simply can't acknowledge the existence of, like.. when you can only peak one eyebrow and you can't seem to do the other one. You know the muscle is there, but you can't flex it. Now imagine that, but add the frustration of not even knowing where the muscle was or what it did.
"This is hopeless", I finally gave in after making funny faces and appearing like I'm constipated for far too long. The sun was starting to set and every family member had their tip or trick that they were told. "Oh, just drink from the far end of the cup and wiggle your ears", "Well we tip you backwards on a chair and your adrenalin spike will kick in". We collectively gave up. In fact, as the weeks and months went by, we eventually totally gave up.
That was so so long ago... I stand now, in the rain, running back over my life that eventually reach this point. My memories fade back again. they're a dull light grey now.
Before I turned 19, I place into a support group that would help us "non-mutes" to get by in the real world. A lot of people find jobs based on their abilities but the non-mutes usually have it pretty hard. I can't say I was totally depressed, but I felt like I should be, or at least I'd have a good reason to be.
Years passed, no sign of a mutation. Except there was something strange, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. It wasn't until I approached my 30's that I started to realise that I wasn't aging. In fact, I hadn't aged a bit. My body was as fit as it was when I was 18. How was I meant to know any different, it was of course my family that pointed this out. So we decided that this was it, this was the mutation. I didn't age. We of course celebrated into the night.
Soon I managed to get a job presenting some sports show. They figured a young male that never grows old would make for a sound investment. I wasn't going to argue with that.
That wasn't it though; and it became clear later. Our private jet was taking the crew and myself to some sports event and a bird strike took the engines out. I walked away from the crash. Emergency services put my dazed behaviour down to shock. It wasn't shock...
I didn't age, and I didn't die. While alone, i would test it. I stabbed my hand, it would pierce, bleed and hurt but that's all, the wound would heal instantly, the pain lingered for a bit and then nothing... For some reason, I didn't tell anyone. The accident was a miracle from the eyes of the media. As the weeks passed, i privately raised the game. My tests soon approached fatal activities like gas poisoning. I was... immortal.
The rain is cold, I feel it roll down my neck. I like it... it's one of few things that remind me that I even exist, that I'm a part of this world. I was so excited back then to be this immortal being. It certainly rippled around the media but of curse, eventually it leads to pretty boring TV and I was quickly forgotten. Now I just watch everybody else live their life as a part of this world that i'm immune to.
I would never wish this "superpower" upon anyone. It seemed so amazing. I walk away now from the graveyard, where I have witnessed the end of another generation of my bloodline. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | The examiner cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Say that again, son."
"Prostate cancer. June 23rd, 2032."
The examiner laid down his pen and clipboard. Tears began to well in his eyes and his hands begin a slight shake. "Thank you. I... I think we're done here."
I'm escorted to the door of the small testing room where the same nurse who led me in is outside waiting for me. She is still breathing heavily. Trying to compose herself and not look me in the eyes. She doesn't have to.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"Is there anything I can do? I have a daughter."
"I don't know if it works that way. I'm sorry."
She leads me to the discharge desk where I'm handed back a stack of paper work. The receptionist seems excited. She seems to genuinely enjoy her job and is giddy to look at my results. Her excited smile quickly fades to a frown. Her eyes lock with the nurses teary eyes, and then to mine. Her head trembles from side to side, as if begging me to stay silent. Stabbing. Pretty soon, as far as I can foresee. I learn quickly to keep my mouth shut and spare her.
As the nurse exits back into the hallway, I can hear her speaking to one of the orderlies I saw in the earlier. "Hey, Frank. Do you think you can drive me home today?"
It doesn't work that way, I think to myself. Frank too. Today.
As the cab pulls up to the front of the facility, a sigh of relief escapes my lips. The cabbie. He has a while. It isn't so bad.
"Where to?" He asks.
Now it's my turn to start shaking.
"Home," I say. "I'd like to see my mom and dad." | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | It really sounds good on paper. Everyone gets a superpower. Oh, there are people with awesome powers. Eki Magnusson, the current president of the great and bountiful human empire has the gift of luck; whatever choice he makes will turn out for the best. Since he was eighteen, his ambition to find challenges pushed humanity centuries into the future within a decade. He was the first of us; he gave us the gifts, and since, humanity has become the center of the Milky Way's coalition of species.
Ten minutes until my eighteenth birthday, when my gift will come. I always wanted something flashy, like matter manipulation, where I could build skyscrapers with my mind. Or perhaps something interesting, like the aura readers, able to help those in need in just the way that can fix them in truth (and also, they know which girl is right for them at a glance, that's pretty sweet). The mathemagicians were kinda scary though, being one of them seems tough.
My best mate, Jerry, killed himself. It's rare, but it happens. He got telepathy, the poor sod. While very handy, and help greatly in things like assessing who would be a proper ambassador to which alien species, first contact missions, and so on... it's just. Well, he was always a gentle guy, and those are the type to suffer from telepathy most. It sucked. He'd be awesome with anything that could use creativity and intelligence, but sometimes people just get unlucky.
It's two minutes until it starts. My mom and dad are in the living room. They don't want to intrude, but they're waiting. They'll want to help me figure out what power I have. Dad's an empath, so he'll help me get through it, after all, he always helps his patients. Mom's invulnerable, so even if I freak out she'll be able to handle it... she took a vacation day for this. My big brother is an illusionist, far too rare a power, and he can't be home for this. All of my family has extremely rare powers, my uncle is the first person who could create gateways for instantaneous travel between locations. Maybe I'll be fabulously rich and famous like him.
Oh hey, it's a minute past. Nothing happened, so I suppose I'm safe. Time to bite the bullet and go see the parents.
I walked towards the living room, and looked at my dad. Instantly, I saw a vision of my mom, crying as she stabs him over and over. Then it was just him again. I ran away. What else could I do? My mom popped up on my left, and I saw her in a padded cell, age upon her, as she stopped breathing. Out of the house, just needed to get out.
People were walking in the street. I could see how each and every one of them died. One in a car accident. Two on operating tables. I shut my eyes, but the visions kept coming. I screamed. | A friend of mine got the power of flight on his 18th birthday. A girl I used to date could suddenly control bugs of every type - centipedes and ants, mostly. I went to sleep just before midnight on the eve of my 18th birthday, excited to wake up and find out what my power was going to be. Staying awake didn't do the trick. You actually had to sleep to attain the power. People thought your body reset and loaded your power, somehow.
I woke up to find both of my hands glowing white hot, dripping what looked like molten rock all over my bed. Two huge holes were burnt into the top of my mattress, and my cover was on fire. It was a good thing I fell asleep with my hands above my head, and not on my chest.
It was like having the Midas Touch, if everything King Midas touched was instantly melted into slag.
Life quickly became almost impossible. I couldn't brush my teeth, couldn't go on dates, couldn't even feed myself. I became pretty good at using my feet to do things, and thought about having my hands amputated, but what if my stumps started leaking magma? What then?
I did the only thing I could do, unless I wanted a life as a demolitions expert. I joined a super villain team, mostly other people who woke up with powers that made normal life impossible. My dad suggested I call myself Lava Lad, but I went with Ruin.
Still, Lava Lad wasn’t a bad suggestion. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | "Teleportation"
Nobody had ever gotten this one before. I was ecstatic for 5 minutes, until I actually tried it. With a POP, I vanished and reappeared in the seat across from me, naked and hairless, missing my clothes, the top layer of my skin, the contents of my GI tract, my fillings... lord knows what else was in that pile across from me. |
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | I sat in a large room with bleached white walls. It was always too cold, goosebumps ran along my arms and legs. A large mirror covered the wall to my left and I tried to pretend I couldn't feel the many people watching me from behind it. I was late. My birthday was November 20th at 1:17pm but when I first came here, nothing happened. No change, no nothing.
For 9 days.
This caused a large amount of excitement from whatever scientific community studies the new generation with powers. You get a power, no matter how mediocre and there was usually a sharp sensation that accompanied its coming.
Helen sat across from me. On the first day she answered my questions before my supposed time. On the second day I finally got her first name. She said I was a rare case. On the fifth day it almost looked like she pitied me. On the eighth, I found out that was just how she showed that she cared. She had two daughters both in middle school and she was so excited for their day to come.
"Well its about that time again," Helen said. "Let's hope the tenth times the charm," she winked at me. "As always the doctors will help you with anything should you need it."
"Thanks Helen". I looked at the clock above the door. 1:10pm.
1:11 my stomach twisted and turned. What if my power is terrible. What if I hate it. The usual worries, but after the fifth day, the anxiety had died down a lot.
1:15 So close I can feel it. I will miss Helen as she kind of feels like a friend now. Wonder if I can fly or be invisible. Or maybe electricity.
1:16 Ice? No...Fire? How about teleporting. I always like magic, maybe something like that. Wonder if my parents are worried. What about transforming into a dragon?
**1:17pm** It felt like my eyes shut off and my conscious faded. IM DOING IT.
I awoke with a start. I recognized the white walls and my memory slowly filled in the gaps. I sneezed and felt something strange on my face. I had grown a full beard. I looked for the mirror. I turned to my left only to see glass. What happened to the mirror? Men with laptops or phones stared back through the glass. Most had surprised looks on their faces. Sharp images came to my mind. I saw a man stealing, a woman cheating on her husband. How did I know these things? So many images flooded my mind as I looked at each of them. It angered me. Why did they do this? They were being bad boys and girls. I want to do something about this. I must do something about this. My hand gripped something and I looked down. A black paddle that looked to be made of black rock sat in my hand. A deep chuckle escaped my lips. The glass would not stop me.
Their sins came out of my mouth accusing each person as I paddled them until they wept. They were being very bad and they needed to be taught a lesson. I will do it.
As the last man sat weeping and apologizing (you should never lie to your wife), Helen slammed the door open in a panic. Her eyes traced the room in a frenzy. People were scattered around the room, most of them groaning or weeping.
"What happened!" She exclaimed.
When I looked at her images rushed me again. But not of greed or anger or hate, but of happiness and caring. She tutors kids, she cares for hurt animals, she volunteers at a soup kitchen. A wide smile perched itself on my lips. She had been such a nice girl. I sat down in a chair next to her as confusion ran across her face.
"Ho Ho Ho, and what would you like for Christmas?" |
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Most of the kids now throw a big party, invite all their friends, or go out somewhere special to celebrate their 18th. My brother, when he turned 18, was at the beach with this high school friends. Luckily for him and everyone around him, his fire powers was quickly doused by the approaching tide. He's an idiot though, I can't count on my fingers how many times he's accidentally set fire to something in the house. Luckily my parents are able to keep a tight lid on things or we'd all be homeless. His room is fireproof (now) and reinforced with steel, created by dad and pounded into place by mom so that his midnight blazes doesn't spread to the rest of the house.
I'm alone in my room. I have little friends and am never really invited to parties. The only one here today is my dog and-ah well, looks like he's gone again, didn't even see him this time. Ugh, fine, forget them, I'll get my powers and then they'll all be sorry! "Maybe a little telekinesis, or shape-shifting, or ooh, super strength! Then I'll show that guy Mike, always bullying me, I'll tear him in half!" I chuckle to myself, it won't be long now.
"....12:45....12:46....wait a minute, didn't mom say I was born around noon? What gives? Where are my powers??" I'm panicking now. In rare cases, some people didn't get their powers, but they were usually too sick, their bodies unable to handle their new-found abilities. That can't be happening to me right?
"....2:32....its been more than an hour now! What the hell's going on?? God damn it, what happened? Why don't I have any powers?? I don't understand this!" I hear the door slam in the living room, they must be home! "Mom, mom! When was I born, didn't you say I was born around noon? Well its 2 fucking hours past noon, where are my powers? Are you sure didn't confuse me with one of your abortion babies?! That's just like you!" My mom stands there, looking bored at me, dad goes into the kitchen to fatten himself up like the pig that he is. She doesn't even care. I point an accusing finger at my mother, ready to give her another piece of my mind when I see it. My nails, they've...grown? Didn't I just cut them? I could have sworn they were-oh shit, did I do that, is THIS my power?? I scream and run to my room to cry.
From the kitchen, my dad yells "Shut up, Meg"
|
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. | |
[WP] You live in a world where every person receives a superpower on their 18th birthday. You eagerly count down the seconds then shriek in horror as you are given a power no one would ever want to be stuck with. | Barry was nervous. Tonight he'd go to bed a 17 year old and wake up an 18 year old with his power.
What category would he get? There's the three categories: Body, Mind, and Mobility. Body can be anything from strength, to scales. Mind could be super intelligence, to knowledge of a specific category. Mobility could be flight, to the ability to vibrate.
There's no telling what I'll get from my parents. They're one of the few times a major fell in love with a minor power. My father has the ability to fill any container or vessel with the non-alcoholic beverage of his choice. My mother has super intelligence, and never forgets anything. Anything.
I felt my eyes getting heavy and the world going dark. I dreamed of all the things I could do, all the people I could save. All the girls I could pull.
When I woke up I lay in bed, trying to figure out if I felt any different. Nothing so far. I carefully started testing all my limbs, making sure I didn't break anything. Nothing. I checked my skin. Still looks normal.
I looked around my room. My eyes fell on the glass of water next to my bed, and I knew.
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed, falling from my bed to the floor.
My father found me huddled and crying.
"What? Barry, what is it?"
I pointed to the glass of water, "That ain't juice."
My father was confused. He grabbed the glass, and poured it into the trash, them materialized some orange juice in the glass, holding it out to me.
I sobbed to him, "That... That is juice."
My power? Knowledge of Juice. |
The next day I woke up, dressed, ate breakfast, and drove to school in my crappy '93 caprice as usual. "Just another day. Just a normal, 'nuther day," I mumbled aloud, half hoping and completely unconvinced of the words that struggled to push past my lips.
I pulled into the student parking lot and made my way Inside. On the way through the lobby, Tom locked eyes with me from his locker and smiled slyly. "I've got 5 minutes if you're free" he yelled to me, just loud enough for others to hear. A series of hoots and coos ensued from those within earshot. I turned my face to the floor and followed the blue tile in the opposite direction.
"C'mon, man! It's kind of, you know, like your duty now! Think of how much money you could make." Allen looked at me at my locker with excited eyes, completely ignoring my mental well-being. "Seriously, drop it," I spat back. "Dude, I can't. That would be like telling Frank Sinatra to put down the mic, Barry Bonds to put down the bat, Tiger Woods to put down the club---" "what the hell! Why do all of your examples have to be about phallic objects!?" I began to lose my mind. "They're called metaphors Dum dum, but I guess you won't need brains anymore with beautiful DSLs like those, right?" Allen was just playing with me now. "FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M NOT GOING TO USE MY NEW POWER OF GIVING THE GREATEST BLOW JOBS!" There it was, I completely lost it. In front of the whole school. But I didn't stop there, I started point at people and yelling "You don't get a blowjob! You don't get a blowjob! Ohhhh no, no blowjobs for you! No one is getting their penis anywhere near my mouth! I'm STRAIGHT." I was breathing heavily and everyone stood there motionless, mouths agape, just staring at me. No, not quite at me. At my lips. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to my car and drove away.
Months later, the pressure had become too much for me and I lost my ability to cope without drugs. I got mixed up with some shady people and that's how I started sucking dick for cash on the street. Today I'll put the barrel of 1911, that I paid for with 12 blowjobs, into my semen laden mouth and pull the trigger.
Fin. |
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