raul
Smash Lord
Yeah, I'm back with a brand new FANFIC!!! Kidding, of course. This is my lastest wwyp entry, entitled: A Failure's Story. I posted this twice, once in the wwyp forum and once in the Create Minds forum so I could keep the general and WWYP comments seperated.
For those that don't know me, I am Raul, a member of the SWF community since 2002. I'm a serious writer and I read alot. My favorite authors are Stephen King, John Grisham, HP Love Craft, HG Wells, JRR Tolkein, Dean Koontz, Richard Matheson, and many more. I have to apologize for the format, it does look better in a Microsoft Word document. I hope this finds you well.
-Raul.
A Failure’s Story
It remains a mystery as to how he received his powers. A Genetic mutation? A Gift from God? Evolution? They all seemed like logical theories, but the answer was never found.
It took several moments for the tourist crowd to process the moments that had taken place. The surreal events had moved in slow motion, but the human mind remained unable to accept the truth. There stood a man, a human like them, holding a roller coaster pod above his head in steady palms. Such things are found in the pages of comic books, or behind the scenes of Hollywood studios, not in the real world where the common folk dwell. They surrounded the stranger as if he carried the flames of newly discovered fire.
“What’s yer name, son?” asked a voice in the mass.
The stranger looked at the sea of eyes watching his every move. Slowly, he placed the pod and its passengers down on the stable earth. The older gentleman, most likely the father, still clutched his frightened daughter. Holding out his hand, he helped the father and daughter on to the solid ground.
“Rylan. Rylan Maddox,” he said through trembling lips.
“Well Rylan, I’d say you did good today,” said someone else, clamping their hand on his shoulder.
Quickly the crowd turned from their shocked and awed expressions to cheers and thunderous applause. There stood young Rylan Maddox, scared and confused, trying to make sense of exactly what he was. He listened to the voices of the crowd. Some called him a hero, others labeled him a freak, and others just considered him lucky. He gazed upon his hands hoping to find some realization as to what had occurred, but there was nothing more than skin and dirt beneath his fingernails.
One by one, television and news station vans rolled into the theme park with reporters asking anyone in sight about the story. Rylan had fled the moment his name was mentioned to one of the leading reporters.
Rylan moved faster than a cheetah on the open plains. As he sprinted towards his home he saw the people, the cars, the towns, passing him as slow as bodies decay. He never felt the wind soaring past him like he did that day. He looked at his legs to see his feet were nothing more than the gray colored blur of his sneakers. He stopped his run and nearly toppled to the ground. Clinging to a near by lamp post, he felt eyes all over him.
“You see how fast that there boy just ran?” asked a man from his opened car window.
“Why, I bet he’s faster than this old jalopy of yours,” laughed his passenger.
Pressing back to the post and sliding to the concrete sidewalk, Rylan was once again surrounded by spectators once more. They looked at his shoes, which had become shredded and destroyed.
“Where’d you come from, kid?” asked a man chewing on a straw. He had come outside from the burger joint. He still wore some milkshake over his top lip.
“Westward Kingdom Amusement Park, down in southern Jersey. I’m on my way home to DarkWater Boro.”
“Well look at that. He ain’t even out of breath! Kid, let me tell you, you got a gift. I ain’t seen nobody run that fast since Robby Peterson! And that was back in seventy-two!”
“Hey everybody! That’s the boy on the news! Look!” yelled a woman from across the street.
A crowd gathered around the electronic store window display, where TVs played footage of Rylan catching the roller coaster pod in mid-air. Many looked back at Rylan ad then to the TV again to be sure it was really him. A murmur of excitement raced over the crowd as the footage of Rylan’s heroics was played over and over again.
“It’s him all right!” said another voice.
Rylan kicked off the remains of his sneakers and started to run once more. People chased after him in their cars, but he left them in the dust. He was only about two hours from home. All he had to do was keep running. Keep running until he was safe in his bed, with the doors locked and the blinds drawn.
About an hour later he felt fatigued and stopped to rest on the side of the road. His pursuers were far behind him. He had time to regain his strength and make it home. He rubbed his hands over his feet expecting to feel blisters and open wounds, but there was nothing but smooth skin. Rubbing his body, Rylan felt no changes, no mutations, and no new or unfamiliar appendage. He still felt human, but he was more. His mind convinced him to stand and try to do it.
“It’s crazy,” he said to himself, “I’ll never do it.”
Closing his eyes, he took two giant leaps and then it happened. He opened his eyes and looked down on the world. The currents in the sky guided him over towns, cities, farms and the land. Forrest trees became small, the cities of people looked like the insect world. Rylan Maddox had discovered flight and a view of the world from the clouds that he had only imagined.
The sluggish pace of the keys against the paper was maddening. My wife constantly interrupted me with updates from the news as I struggled to type in the last hours remaining. She was worried and rightfully so, but I could hardly care less. This day had been coming for a long time and if you were not prepared now, then you would not ever be.
“They say the tornados are going to sweep right over the east coast without losing any speed at all. They could hit us in a few hours! Jesus, I’m calling my mother!”
I watched her run into the kitchen and dial her mother, while I remained seated and calm. The need to get these thoughts out of my head and onto paper was dire. I knew she wanted me to comfort her and tell her everything was going to work out, but I am not the kind to bring about false hopes. So I typed my words on the paper as fast as I could, but slow enough so I would not have to risk rewriting. Time was short and I could not possibly rewrite moments before the end of humanity. My fingers gliding over the keys, I struck them all perfectly, each word spelled correctly. Confidence expressed itself in the form of my smirk. The world had met its match and I would be the only one who knew how and why.
Rylan Maddox knew the reporters were outside his door and windows. They pounded and rang the doorbell for what seemed like weeks. He had done his best to avoid them, staying locked inside his apartment, skipping work and disconnecting his telephone. But even his best efforts could not force away the inquiry of the world. He rolled out of bed and in his boxers, answered their calls.
A reporter shoved a microphone in his teeth and asked, “Mr. Maddox, is it true that you caught a roller coaster clear out of the sky?”
Then came another microphone and question.
“What do you have to say to the owners of Westward Kingdom Amusement Park and their disregard for the public’s safety?”
And another.
“Rylan, is true that you can run faster than a car traveling at eighty miles per hour?”
And they continued to come with questions and concerns. Some questions were repetitive, but Rylan knew they were only doing their job. People from all over his apartment complex held up signs with his name on it. There were helicopters with cameras flying overhead. It was as overwhelming as the day at the Westward Kingdom.
“Rylan, how does it feel to be a hero?” asked another reporter.
Quickly, he focused back to the mob before him and replied, “Hero?”
“Yes, hero!” the reporter said.
Rylan smiled. All this time he had worried that he might be some kind of mutant or science experiment gone awry. But as he gazed across the sea of people and reporters, he understood he was something they had always dreamed for: a hero. The world had always needed one. Its desire for a savior was prominent in movies, books, music, hopes, wishes and dreams. The human race was like a child that needed to be nurtured and protected, and he could give that to them. He would be the world’s hero that they had long sought for.
“I am a hero. I saved the lives of two people that day, but they will not be the last. No longer will the Earth go without someone who can protect its people. No longer will people have to beg and simply dream of a better tomorrow. That better tomorrow is before you, and it begins with me.”
A roar of applause and chants filled the streets. Rylan waved to them from the threshold of the door. The chanting of his name commenced and Rylan shut the door on the reporters. He was more than a man. He was a super man about to become the champion of the world. And they would all love him for his great deeds. Everywhere he went his name would be known by all. The life of masonry was behind him now. Rather than laying down the foundation of a single home, he would build the foundation of an Earth that all could claim as home. Or so he thought.
I paused for a moment to listen to the howling winds. They whistled fiercely outside the walls. The tornados were closing in, but I stayed at my type writer. My wife was running around the house in a panic. She only came to me when she had something urgent to say now. Perhaps she felt my aggravation every time she broke my chain of thought, or maybe she finally understood that I was indifferent to the matter, and refused to move from my chair.
“I’m going to pick the kids up from school. God only knows why they haven’t been let out yet. Will you answer the phone if my mother calls?”
“Yes Amy, I’ll answer the phone.”
“I won’t be long. I’m coming right back.”
She grabbed her coat and ran out the door. I hardly noticed she had left when I said, “Take your time.”
My fingers needed a rest so I stood in the kitchen sipping at some cognac. Out the sliding door, I could see the sky turning darker and darker by the minute. The winds grew stronger, taking garbage cans, realty signs and lawn ornaments in the direction of the tornados. It would not be long before cars, homes and people started entering that mix. I took another swig of cognac.
I returned to my type writer and started once more, bringing the bottle of cognac with me. There was so much to say, yet so little time. I doubted I would finish, but I forced myself to carry on. Each word that hit the page was a step closer to the end and I wished to see it through.
I never thought it would be so difficult to explain the events that lead to the destruction of human life. Plenty of books had been created by writers regarding such a catastrophe; why was it so difficult for me to do the same? But I already knew the answer to such a question. Those writers had created a world of fiction, while I struggled to explain the reality of the situation. And comprehending the “how”, “why” and person responsible makes it even more complicated; it makes everything that more real.
The phone rang in the kitchen but I left it unanswered. I had nothing more to say. All that remained was to finish what I had started.
Some called him “Super Man", others called him the “devil,” but everyday for ten years, Rylan Maddox went out and did what he could to change the world.
Never fond of the capes or spandex suits of the modern super hero, Rylan instead chose what he had always worn to work: a t-shirt underneath a plaid button up and baggy carpenter jeans. It may have not been as stylish as Bat Man or Spider Man, but he was not in this line of work for the fashion. He was the one that could bring great joy and the savior the world’s people desired. They cared not about his appearance, but about what good he could do. And he planned to win their love with the greatest gift he could bring them: Peace.
I remember the first interview he gave several years into his term as lone super hero. He was never really liked to do interviews, but he did this one so he could get his face out there. I guess he thought we would mistake him for some other super human running around the globe.
“Rylan, one question that has been asked by people all over the world is what exactly are your powers and how many do you have?” asked the reporter from Channel 5 news.
Laughing, Rylan replied, “I don’t have that many but I make use of the ones I’ve got. Strength, speed, and flight make me what I am.”
“I see. And some scientists say that there are some limitations on those abilities, is that correct?”
“Boy, you guys don’t miss anything. Yeah, there are some limitations. I can only lift so much, fly for so long, you know, I get fatigued. It’s what makes me a human.”
“Well, Rylan, we hope that you continue to do the great things you’ve done so far. I’m Susan Roberts, reporting for Channel 10 News.”
Indeed, Rylan continued to do everything and anything he could to keep the world safe for everyone. Countless times, he rescued people from burning buildings, pulled people from the ocean as they drowned, and the list goes on. Every newspaper covered his every move. He was a celebrity more popular than anyone Hollywood or the sporting world could produce.
Perhaps Rylan’s greatest act of heroism came a few years back in two-thousand five. Terrorists had captured the Governor’s Mansion in New Jersey, holding the Governor and his family hostage inside. They were not the Islamic fundamentalists the government always protected against. These were just some damn crazy democrats with big ideas and had the big guns to make them heard.
The negotiations were unsuccessful when Rylan arrived. The cops had blocked every road for a radius of ten miles. Many officers were happy to see him, while others spat at his bare feet as he walked over to the commissioner.
“Commissioner Kerns, how are you?” Rylan said, extending his hand.
“I’ve been better, kid. Got five heavily armed men locked inside the Governor’s Mansion.”
“How many hostages?”
“We’ve identified three, one being the governor, the other two his wife and
daughter.”
“You got that bullet-proof garbage on you?”
“Kevlar? Yeah, plenty of it, why?”
“Give me enough to cover my body, arms and legs. I’ll get your hostages out.”
Once he was concealed in the Kevlar, Rylan sped behind the mansion and broke though a window, where he was greeted with gun fire. He dealt with the two gunmen swiftly, smashing their skulls together. A third shooter fired three rounds in his back, but the Kevlar stopped them cold. A fist landed against the shooter’s jaw and Rylan watched the blood roll down his knuckles. He took the stairs to the second floor, where a bullet nearly pierced his skull. He could hear the screams of the Governor and his family through the shots.
He took a breath and raced down the hallway feeling the bullets crash against his Kevlar shield. They were too poor of shots to aim for his head, let alone hit a target that fast. With two blinding punches, the last two terrorists landed face first into the floor. With a smile of satisfaction, Rylan pulled open the door to find an unwanted surprise.
“On the other side was a sixth shoot…”
Suddenly, my kids jumped into my lap. My wife was home as she had promised. I hugged my son and daughter. They were thrilled that they got out of school early, but naïve to the fact that things were far from pleasant.
“Whattaya doin’ daddy?” my son Charlie asked.
“Just doin’ some daddy stuff.”
“Can we help?”
“Why don’t you go help Mommy, Macy? Ok, sweetheart?”
My daughter nodded her head and kissed my nose as she ran off with Charlie to see their mother. She paced around the kitchen on the phone, nearly in tears. I tried to ignore her and recollect my thoughts. Of course, the sight of me still at the type writer enraged her and she slammed the phone down and called me into the kitchen.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been sitting at that thing all day. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“Of course it doesn’t. What else is new? You’ve hardly said two words to me since these tornados and storms came around. What’s going on?”
“I promise you it’s nothing to worry about. I just need to finish this.”
She nodded and I took my place back in front of the type writer. I could hear Amy dialing the phone and crying to her mother again. She tried to keep her voice low, but I already knew what she was saying. She started with something about how I had changed and that I was cold to her. Then she brought up the kids and how I barely spoke to them. Maybe I was a little cold, but I had to write my thoughts. I needed to leave behind the history of the end of humanity for those who may come along and next inhabit this planet.
Where was I? Ahh, yes…
“On the other side was a sixth shooter. He held a pistol to the head of the Governor’s wife. Her eyes filled with tears. Rylan moved into the room, but the gunman opened with a threat.
“Not another move or I’ll kill her!”
“Listen, you don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you. Let her go.”
“Ok.”
And the gunman kept his word. He shot her dead and let her go to Heaven. Everything went silent as Rylan converged on the man, beating him over and over. He blocked out the screams and sobs of the Governor and his daughter as he ripped the killer’s heart from his chest and tore out his eyes and spilled his blood, allowing it to stain the carpet forever.
Rylan had never let anyone die ever since he gained his powers. He had always been able to save and protect everyone who needed him. Never had he failed until this day. When he finished dismembering the body, he looked up at the Governor’s daughter. Even in her moment of sadness and anger, she was beautiful. With lips full and red as rose petals and hair as dark as the endless space above the Earth, she was the most beautiful woman he had seen in all his years. She gazed back at him, still crying, still angry, but the tension was there through all the heartache and loss.
“You bastard! Get out of here! Leave us alone!” shouted the Governor through clenched teeth. The veins in his balding head pulsed noticeably.
There was no point in trying to apologize. Rylan Maddox took to the skies, dropping the Kevlar in the arms of Commissioner Kerns, who waved to him in thanks. He had yet to discover the failure Rylan left behind for him to deal with.
Flight fatigued his body, so Rylan landed on a roof top in the city and rested on an air conditioning unit. He forced his mind to think of other things besides the death of the Governor’s wife. But all he could see now was the daughter. Sadly, she was nameless to him. He knew her only as Governor Duncan’s daughter. Making a promise to learn her name, Rylan slept that night on the roof top, the stars and moonlight shining over him. His dreams showed only the face of the Governor’s daughter, smiling as she rushed into his arms.
As he slept, the news coverage of Governor Duncan’s wife and her death ran on every channel. The world slowly began to learn of Rylan Maddox’s failure. Their decision to judge him by it would seal their fate.
“They’ve already evacuated Woodhurst and Stonewall. We should start packing before they move us out as well,” Amy said.
“You’re probably right,” I said without actually making eye contact.
“Well are you going to help me?”
“You can start. I’ll be there when I’m done.”
Outside, the stormy weather worsened. Thunder reigned from the gray skies accompanying the growing vacuum-like winds of the tornados. And even with my death just miles away, I stayed calm. I feared no destruction because I knew I was the only one who would survive the storms of death. It was not my choice, but it was the choice of those who had not shown love and gratitude to the hero of Earth.
“Daddy, Daddy!”
“What’s up little man?”
“Mommy says we’re going to Grandma’s tonight.”
“That’s right. You’re off to Grandma’s house for a while.”
Amy walked back into the kitchen with some suitcases packed. She had her coat on and the keys in her hands.
“I’m taking the kids to my mother’s house. They’re going to evacuate everyone to the army base from there. Are you coming?”
“No. What good would it do?”
“What is going on? I know you know!”
“It’s the end of the world! What do you think it is?”
“What are you writing?”
She snatched the page from my type writer and scanned it quickly. Her lips trembled as she read the words. She tossed it to the floor unable to finish it.
“Why are you writing this?”
“Someone’s got to tell the story. Who better than me?”
“Jesus Christ. Is this about her? After all these years, you still can’t let her go?”
“It goes beyond her, Amy. The world always saw me as their crutch! They took me for granted! They used me!”
“No, that’s not true! You hated the fact that she never loved you!”
“None of them loved me as they should have!”
“Tell me, did you bring these storms upon us? Did you do this?”
I never answered her. Without shedding a tear, she took the children and I never saw her again. Did they make it to the army base? I don’t know.
The day Rylan Maddox proposed to Marianne Duncan was a day the world would regret. He had found her sleeping in her bed, when he tapped on the window. Willing to go with him, they took to the sky and found a private place to talk: Westward Kingdom Amusement Park.
She felt warm and relaxed in his arms and as they flew over the town, the darkness hiding the details of the landscape. Her breath against his neck sent nervous, but arousing chills over his body. For months they had spent time together, without her father’s permission. Spending the twilight hours together was the only way to keep their relationship a secret.
But it was not the relationship that many would consider appropriate for two individuals it their mid-twenties. It more like the type of relationship between two middle school aged children. They were uneasy in each others company, but still enjoyed the opportunity to share their intimate feelings as boy and girl, man and woman. Unable to be close to one another in the public eye, Rylan and Marianne used the cover of night as a chance to escape the world and its rule which they were to abide.
Rylan’s love for her was unquestioned. He planned for tonight to be the night that changed the course of the world and his life. The time was right for Earth’s lone ranger to start a family, and come home to the loving and caring arms he so desired.
“I’m always close that you think,” Rylan said with his hands in hers.
“I know. I saw you at my father’s last speech. He wants you dead, you know?”
“I don’t blame him. What do you want?”
“My mother.”
They were quiet for a long time. The two sat on the tracks on the roller coaster that had launched Rylan’s career as a hero. It was this very place where he had saved the lives of two and since he had saved and protected the lives of thousands. But even with all those lives saved and secured, Rylan had missed the one that meant the most. He could not save the family of the woman he had grown to love.
“Marry me. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you, and every day since I’ve loved you more and more. Pack you’re things; we could leave tonight. Marry me, Marianne. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
On one knee, Rylan brought forth a diamond ring, which glowed like the shining stars above in the moonlight. Quietly, he waited with a smile for his love to accept his proposal. Eternal love was but moments away.
She threw her hands over her face and started to run. Confused, Rylan went after her. He took her hands from her face and looked into her eyes, but she could not bare to look back. There was too much pain in her heart.
“I…I can’t!”
“Why? Don’t you love me?”
“How can I? Every time I look at you, I remember that day, and how much it hurt! No, I cannot marry you Rylan! I can’t!”
“NO! You must! I know you do!”
“I won’t! Leave me!”
“But I don’t want to be alone!”
“You won’t be! There are millions of people who love you for what you can do! Turn to them if you must! But I have nothing to give you!”
And then she walked away from me, leaving me standing in the cold darkness of the night. The woman I cared for and wanted to love did not return the same affections. So I did what any man would do. I choked back my deadly emotions, and moved on. The world lost it hero, but it gained an enemy, whose heart was made of stone. It could never break and never bleed.
I told you my powers were limited, but I was wrong. They were only limited because I had yet to imagine the next level, the greater possibilities. The idea came to me sometime after I was hunted, like a goddamn animal. Governor Duncan wanted my head in his trophy room, but I was far from willing to roll over and die.
When the Governor turned the world against me, I went into hiding, or rather exile. Nearly all those I had saved now wished for my death. I left my New Jersey home in DarkWater Boro behind and moved out west to Ohio. I had some family there, but they shunned me too.
For ten years I had given my life to serve and protect the innocent, and I spent another ten starting over. I had been judged guilty on the basis of one failure. The more I watched the world search for me, the more I came to realize they had only used me. They never desired a savior. They craved only someone to use, to make their pains and problems disappear. They used me like a tool, and when I became expendable, they sought to destroy me. There had never been any love or thanks for my efforts.
So I married Amy, partially because she showed me love, and partially because she would keep me a secret. Like the world had used me I used her. I used her to plot my redemption. All of the people who now loathed me would know what I was truly capable of. And when they begged on their knees for forgiveness only then would I stop.
I traveled to Kansas, where open fields were essential to my progress. I lied to Amy and the kids and told them I had to go out there for a job. It was a half-truth. I began to test the limits of my power over the course of three weeks. At first, my speed was limited to a mere hundred twenty miles an hour and I could only stay in flight for three hours. With continuous use and training my powers grew at a rapid rate. It became so great that I had no means to measure or determine just how powerful I had become.
The only problem that remained was my physical strength. All those years of lifting cars and trains had worn my body down. I would be torn apart at my maximum speed, so I learned to channel all my powers equally through out my skeleton and muscles. In a matter of days I was able to create the ultimate disaster.
With my new evolved powers, I created twelve tornados larger and more destructive than any ever recorded by man. They became so powerful that I lost control of them. The tornados took to the corners of the world and I was left to watch them work. Badly weakened from my creations, I rested in the field for two days in a coma. When I woke I discovered the state of my powers had returned to normal. My heart was strained to the point where it nearly gave in, but somehow I survived.
I returned home, where my wife had learned of the tornados. Apparently, the Earth’s brightest scientific minds were at a loss as to how such tornados could manifest without warning. As the cities fell around the globe, I relaxed in front of the television as the bastards that ostracized me called my name to save them once more. But I would do no such thing. They had a lesson to learn and I planned to teach it thoroughly.
I moved from my type writer and looked out the window. The tornado was about three or four miles away devouring everything in its path. I stumbled out the front door with the empty cognac bottle in my fist. I felt a good buzz, but I knew what was unfolding before me. I got in my pick-up and drove off.
Over the radio I heard the cries for help. I left it on listening to the women screaming, the children crying, the men dying. I switched the station over and I heard an unfamiliar broadcast. At first it was scarcely audible, but as I got further away from the cyclones it came in clearly.
“If your listening….if anyone is…DarkWater…Army Base is…trouble…help! Women and children in danger! Ry…addox…if you’re...please…!”
I clicked it off. The guilt inside of me was swelling. Never had I heard cries and screams of such terror. But hearing them and the way they made my skin tremble told me that this was real. I was really going to kill all the people of the Earth. The reality of the situation had yet to sink into my mind until this moment. The consequences of my actions shined brightly like a beacon in the ocean fog. What have I done?
I pulled the truck over the road side and stared out the windshield. I had gone from savior to Satan. And for what reason? How could I be so selfish? I failed to find the love I craved, but there were so many out there who had so much to give. I had turned a gift into a curse and a curse into damnation. All would suffer because of the loveless life I endured. The world had not used me, but I had tried to use them. Love cannot be forced or demanded. It had to be earned and discovered.
I had to find a way to make things right between the people I swore to defend and myself. I ditched the truck and used my speed to race to the army base. I was at maximum velocity, pushing myself beyond my limitations. And when my speed fatigued my legs, I took to the skies.
I saw the lake that was the symbol of DarkWater Boro. With waters as dark as the abyss, no soul dare venture in for fear of the legends that surrounded it. Apparently, the same fear was passed on to my creations. The tornados had left the lake untouched, its water tranquil and full. Perhaps the tornados passed by the lake because they believed it would destroy them, ending their mission prematurely. The only certainty anymore was that lake was evil and it would live on even after man was long gone and dead.
I confess I was unsure of exactly what I was going to do. There stood the tornado several hundred yards from the perimeter of the base. It inhaled tanks, trucks, fences, homes and the surrounding forest wilderness. Its gray and black swirling mass seemed to grow more evil and powerful with each new place it decimated. But if I created it, I could stop it.
Landing inside the base, soldiers applauded and cheered my return. People rushed out to me shouting and screaming for me to do something. I held my hands up to calm them down. I saw Amy and the kids huddled in the back of the crowd. Another husband and wife were comforting them, trying to keep the kids distracted. She looked into my eyes and saw the truth. Her tears streaming like rivers, she knew what I had done. I looked into her eyes. There was no sign of forgiveness.
“Where have you come from? Where have you been?” someone asked in the crowd of the scared and hopeless.
“I’ve been gone too long, but I am here now, and I swear to you, I will not fail.”
“What do you plan to do?” a nearby soldier questioned.
Turning back to the tornado, it absorbed two helicopters that got too close. Two explosions crushed any hope that anyone could survivor such a force. Many people gasped and others ran for cover.
“Ok, I’m going in. Nobody come after me. But before I leave, I want everyone to know I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
I did not answer. I took flight and soared into the clouds. Heavy rains crashed
against me, but I pushed through it and floated high above the center of the tornado. Unconcerned anymore for my own well being, I slowly drifted down into the heart of the funnel. If I had enough strength I could reverse the winds and potentially cancel them out, but this was only a theory. So I began the spin that originally created this monster, but in reverse. It appeared to be working initially, but something as unexpected as the sixth shooter happened. My powers began to fade away.
I fell from the sky, my back snapping and breaking the fall. Paralyzed and drunk I laid in the mud, defenseless and broken. My arms still functioned, but I only sank deeper into the mud the more I struggled.
The calm would pass soon and the tornado would swallow me like all its other victims. As I waited for my end, I pondered what went wrong. Perhaps the cognac numbed the part of me that was my power. Maybe I had used the last of the powers. But tears fell from my eyes as I thought of all I had done. The world had counted on me and I failed them. Now I understood why the Earth had never known a savior or a hero. Heroes are still human and can easily be corrupt by power, by love, by anger. I was living proof of such an example. I told myself I could bring peace and love to myself and the planet, but I had done just the opposite. I had acted without a rational thought as to what the outcome of my actions might be. I had done the devil’s work for him and he thanked me for this favor.
For those that don't know me, I am Raul, a member of the SWF community since 2002. I'm a serious writer and I read alot. My favorite authors are Stephen King, John Grisham, HP Love Craft, HG Wells, JRR Tolkein, Dean Koontz, Richard Matheson, and many more. I have to apologize for the format, it does look better in a Microsoft Word document. I hope this finds you well.
-Raul.
A Failure’s Story
Copyright 2008
-1-
It remains a mystery as to how he received his powers. A Genetic mutation? A Gift from God? Evolution? They all seemed like logical theories, but the answer was never found.
It took several moments for the tourist crowd to process the moments that had taken place. The surreal events had moved in slow motion, but the human mind remained unable to accept the truth. There stood a man, a human like them, holding a roller coaster pod above his head in steady palms. Such things are found in the pages of comic books, or behind the scenes of Hollywood studios, not in the real world where the common folk dwell. They surrounded the stranger as if he carried the flames of newly discovered fire.
“What’s yer name, son?” asked a voice in the mass.
The stranger looked at the sea of eyes watching his every move. Slowly, he placed the pod and its passengers down on the stable earth. The older gentleman, most likely the father, still clutched his frightened daughter. Holding out his hand, he helped the father and daughter on to the solid ground.
“Rylan. Rylan Maddox,” he said through trembling lips.
“Well Rylan, I’d say you did good today,” said someone else, clamping their hand on his shoulder.
Quickly the crowd turned from their shocked and awed expressions to cheers and thunderous applause. There stood young Rylan Maddox, scared and confused, trying to make sense of exactly what he was. He listened to the voices of the crowd. Some called him a hero, others labeled him a freak, and others just considered him lucky. He gazed upon his hands hoping to find some realization as to what had occurred, but there was nothing more than skin and dirt beneath his fingernails.
One by one, television and news station vans rolled into the theme park with reporters asking anyone in sight about the story. Rylan had fled the moment his name was mentioned to one of the leading reporters.
Rylan moved faster than a cheetah on the open plains. As he sprinted towards his home he saw the people, the cars, the towns, passing him as slow as bodies decay. He never felt the wind soaring past him like he did that day. He looked at his legs to see his feet were nothing more than the gray colored blur of his sneakers. He stopped his run and nearly toppled to the ground. Clinging to a near by lamp post, he felt eyes all over him.
“You see how fast that there boy just ran?” asked a man from his opened car window.
“Why, I bet he’s faster than this old jalopy of yours,” laughed his passenger.
Pressing back to the post and sliding to the concrete sidewalk, Rylan was once again surrounded by spectators once more. They looked at his shoes, which had become shredded and destroyed.
“Where’d you come from, kid?” asked a man chewing on a straw. He had come outside from the burger joint. He still wore some milkshake over his top lip.
“Westward Kingdom Amusement Park, down in southern Jersey. I’m on my way home to DarkWater Boro.”
“Well look at that. He ain’t even out of breath! Kid, let me tell you, you got a gift. I ain’t seen nobody run that fast since Robby Peterson! And that was back in seventy-two!”
“Hey everybody! That’s the boy on the news! Look!” yelled a woman from across the street.
A crowd gathered around the electronic store window display, where TVs played footage of Rylan catching the roller coaster pod in mid-air. Many looked back at Rylan ad then to the TV again to be sure it was really him. A murmur of excitement raced over the crowd as the footage of Rylan’s heroics was played over and over again.
“It’s him all right!” said another voice.
Rylan kicked off the remains of his sneakers and started to run once more. People chased after him in their cars, but he left them in the dust. He was only about two hours from home. All he had to do was keep running. Keep running until he was safe in his bed, with the doors locked and the blinds drawn.
About an hour later he felt fatigued and stopped to rest on the side of the road. His pursuers were far behind him. He had time to regain his strength and make it home. He rubbed his hands over his feet expecting to feel blisters and open wounds, but there was nothing but smooth skin. Rubbing his body, Rylan felt no changes, no mutations, and no new or unfamiliar appendage. He still felt human, but he was more. His mind convinced him to stand and try to do it.
“It’s crazy,” he said to himself, “I’ll never do it.”
Closing his eyes, he took two giant leaps and then it happened. He opened his eyes and looked down on the world. The currents in the sky guided him over towns, cities, farms and the land. Forrest trees became small, the cities of people looked like the insect world. Rylan Maddox had discovered flight and a view of the world from the clouds that he had only imagined.
-2-
The sluggish pace of the keys against the paper was maddening. My wife constantly interrupted me with updates from the news as I struggled to type in the last hours remaining. She was worried and rightfully so, but I could hardly care less. This day had been coming for a long time and if you were not prepared now, then you would not ever be.
“They say the tornados are going to sweep right over the east coast without losing any speed at all. They could hit us in a few hours! Jesus, I’m calling my mother!”
I watched her run into the kitchen and dial her mother, while I remained seated and calm. The need to get these thoughts out of my head and onto paper was dire. I knew she wanted me to comfort her and tell her everything was going to work out, but I am not the kind to bring about false hopes. So I typed my words on the paper as fast as I could, but slow enough so I would not have to risk rewriting. Time was short and I could not possibly rewrite moments before the end of humanity. My fingers gliding over the keys, I struck them all perfectly, each word spelled correctly. Confidence expressed itself in the form of my smirk. The world had met its match and I would be the only one who knew how and why.
-3-
Rylan Maddox knew the reporters were outside his door and windows. They pounded and rang the doorbell for what seemed like weeks. He had done his best to avoid them, staying locked inside his apartment, skipping work and disconnecting his telephone. But even his best efforts could not force away the inquiry of the world. He rolled out of bed and in his boxers, answered their calls.
A reporter shoved a microphone in his teeth and asked, “Mr. Maddox, is it true that you caught a roller coaster clear out of the sky?”
Then came another microphone and question.
“What do you have to say to the owners of Westward Kingdom Amusement Park and their disregard for the public’s safety?”
And another.
“Rylan, is true that you can run faster than a car traveling at eighty miles per hour?”
And they continued to come with questions and concerns. Some questions were repetitive, but Rylan knew they were only doing their job. People from all over his apartment complex held up signs with his name on it. There were helicopters with cameras flying overhead. It was as overwhelming as the day at the Westward Kingdom.
“Rylan, how does it feel to be a hero?” asked another reporter.
Quickly, he focused back to the mob before him and replied, “Hero?”
“Yes, hero!” the reporter said.
Rylan smiled. All this time he had worried that he might be some kind of mutant or science experiment gone awry. But as he gazed across the sea of people and reporters, he understood he was something they had always dreamed for: a hero. The world had always needed one. Its desire for a savior was prominent in movies, books, music, hopes, wishes and dreams. The human race was like a child that needed to be nurtured and protected, and he could give that to them. He would be the world’s hero that they had long sought for.
“I am a hero. I saved the lives of two people that day, but they will not be the last. No longer will the Earth go without someone who can protect its people. No longer will people have to beg and simply dream of a better tomorrow. That better tomorrow is before you, and it begins with me.”
A roar of applause and chants filled the streets. Rylan waved to them from the threshold of the door. The chanting of his name commenced and Rylan shut the door on the reporters. He was more than a man. He was a super man about to become the champion of the world. And they would all love him for his great deeds. Everywhere he went his name would be known by all. The life of masonry was behind him now. Rather than laying down the foundation of a single home, he would build the foundation of an Earth that all could claim as home. Or so he thought.
-4-
I paused for a moment to listen to the howling winds. They whistled fiercely outside the walls. The tornados were closing in, but I stayed at my type writer. My wife was running around the house in a panic. She only came to me when she had something urgent to say now. Perhaps she felt my aggravation every time she broke my chain of thought, or maybe she finally understood that I was indifferent to the matter, and refused to move from my chair.
“I’m going to pick the kids up from school. God only knows why they haven’t been let out yet. Will you answer the phone if my mother calls?”
“Yes Amy, I’ll answer the phone.”
“I won’t be long. I’m coming right back.”
She grabbed her coat and ran out the door. I hardly noticed she had left when I said, “Take your time.”
My fingers needed a rest so I stood in the kitchen sipping at some cognac. Out the sliding door, I could see the sky turning darker and darker by the minute. The winds grew stronger, taking garbage cans, realty signs and lawn ornaments in the direction of the tornados. It would not be long before cars, homes and people started entering that mix. I took another swig of cognac.
I returned to my type writer and started once more, bringing the bottle of cognac with me. There was so much to say, yet so little time. I doubted I would finish, but I forced myself to carry on. Each word that hit the page was a step closer to the end and I wished to see it through.
I never thought it would be so difficult to explain the events that lead to the destruction of human life. Plenty of books had been created by writers regarding such a catastrophe; why was it so difficult for me to do the same? But I already knew the answer to such a question. Those writers had created a world of fiction, while I struggled to explain the reality of the situation. And comprehending the “how”, “why” and person responsible makes it even more complicated; it makes everything that more real.
The phone rang in the kitchen but I left it unanswered. I had nothing more to say. All that remained was to finish what I had started.
-5-
Some called him “Super Man", others called him the “devil,” but everyday for ten years, Rylan Maddox went out and did what he could to change the world.
Never fond of the capes or spandex suits of the modern super hero, Rylan instead chose what he had always worn to work: a t-shirt underneath a plaid button up and baggy carpenter jeans. It may have not been as stylish as Bat Man or Spider Man, but he was not in this line of work for the fashion. He was the one that could bring great joy and the savior the world’s people desired. They cared not about his appearance, but about what good he could do. And he planned to win their love with the greatest gift he could bring them: Peace.
I remember the first interview he gave several years into his term as lone super hero. He was never really liked to do interviews, but he did this one so he could get his face out there. I guess he thought we would mistake him for some other super human running around the globe.
“Rylan, one question that has been asked by people all over the world is what exactly are your powers and how many do you have?” asked the reporter from Channel 5 news.
Laughing, Rylan replied, “I don’t have that many but I make use of the ones I’ve got. Strength, speed, and flight make me what I am.”
“I see. And some scientists say that there are some limitations on those abilities, is that correct?”
“Boy, you guys don’t miss anything. Yeah, there are some limitations. I can only lift so much, fly for so long, you know, I get fatigued. It’s what makes me a human.”
“Well, Rylan, we hope that you continue to do the great things you’ve done so far. I’m Susan Roberts, reporting for Channel 10 News.”
Indeed, Rylan continued to do everything and anything he could to keep the world safe for everyone. Countless times, he rescued people from burning buildings, pulled people from the ocean as they drowned, and the list goes on. Every newspaper covered his every move. He was a celebrity more popular than anyone Hollywood or the sporting world could produce.
Perhaps Rylan’s greatest act of heroism came a few years back in two-thousand five. Terrorists had captured the Governor’s Mansion in New Jersey, holding the Governor and his family hostage inside. They were not the Islamic fundamentalists the government always protected against. These were just some damn crazy democrats with big ideas and had the big guns to make them heard.
The negotiations were unsuccessful when Rylan arrived. The cops had blocked every road for a radius of ten miles. Many officers were happy to see him, while others spat at his bare feet as he walked over to the commissioner.
“Commissioner Kerns, how are you?” Rylan said, extending his hand.
“I’ve been better, kid. Got five heavily armed men locked inside the Governor’s Mansion.”
“How many hostages?”
“We’ve identified three, one being the governor, the other two his wife and
daughter.”
“You got that bullet-proof garbage on you?”
“Kevlar? Yeah, plenty of it, why?”
“Give me enough to cover my body, arms and legs. I’ll get your hostages out.”
Once he was concealed in the Kevlar, Rylan sped behind the mansion and broke though a window, where he was greeted with gun fire. He dealt with the two gunmen swiftly, smashing their skulls together. A third shooter fired three rounds in his back, but the Kevlar stopped them cold. A fist landed against the shooter’s jaw and Rylan watched the blood roll down his knuckles. He took the stairs to the second floor, where a bullet nearly pierced his skull. He could hear the screams of the Governor and his family through the shots.
He took a breath and raced down the hallway feeling the bullets crash against his Kevlar shield. They were too poor of shots to aim for his head, let alone hit a target that fast. With two blinding punches, the last two terrorists landed face first into the floor. With a smile of satisfaction, Rylan pulled open the door to find an unwanted surprise.
-6-
“On the other side was a sixth shoot…”
Suddenly, my kids jumped into my lap. My wife was home as she had promised. I hugged my son and daughter. They were thrilled that they got out of school early, but naïve to the fact that things were far from pleasant.
“Whattaya doin’ daddy?” my son Charlie asked.
“Just doin’ some daddy stuff.”
“Can we help?”
“Why don’t you go help Mommy, Macy? Ok, sweetheart?”
My daughter nodded her head and kissed my nose as she ran off with Charlie to see their mother. She paced around the kitchen on the phone, nearly in tears. I tried to ignore her and recollect my thoughts. Of course, the sight of me still at the type writer enraged her and she slammed the phone down and called me into the kitchen.
“Yes?”
“You’ve been sitting at that thing all day. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“Of course it doesn’t. What else is new? You’ve hardly said two words to me since these tornados and storms came around. What’s going on?”
“I promise you it’s nothing to worry about. I just need to finish this.”
She nodded and I took my place back in front of the type writer. I could hear Amy dialing the phone and crying to her mother again. She tried to keep her voice low, but I already knew what she was saying. She started with something about how I had changed and that I was cold to her. Then she brought up the kids and how I barely spoke to them. Maybe I was a little cold, but I had to write my thoughts. I needed to leave behind the history of the end of humanity for those who may come along and next inhabit this planet.
Where was I? Ahh, yes…
-7-
“On the other side was a sixth shooter. He held a pistol to the head of the Governor’s wife. Her eyes filled with tears. Rylan moved into the room, but the gunman opened with a threat.
“Not another move or I’ll kill her!”
“Listen, you don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you. Let her go.”
“Ok.”
And the gunman kept his word. He shot her dead and let her go to Heaven. Everything went silent as Rylan converged on the man, beating him over and over. He blocked out the screams and sobs of the Governor and his daughter as he ripped the killer’s heart from his chest and tore out his eyes and spilled his blood, allowing it to stain the carpet forever.
Rylan had never let anyone die ever since he gained his powers. He had always been able to save and protect everyone who needed him. Never had he failed until this day. When he finished dismembering the body, he looked up at the Governor’s daughter. Even in her moment of sadness and anger, she was beautiful. With lips full and red as rose petals and hair as dark as the endless space above the Earth, she was the most beautiful woman he had seen in all his years. She gazed back at him, still crying, still angry, but the tension was there through all the heartache and loss.
“You bastard! Get out of here! Leave us alone!” shouted the Governor through clenched teeth. The veins in his balding head pulsed noticeably.
There was no point in trying to apologize. Rylan Maddox took to the skies, dropping the Kevlar in the arms of Commissioner Kerns, who waved to him in thanks. He had yet to discover the failure Rylan left behind for him to deal with.
Flight fatigued his body, so Rylan landed on a roof top in the city and rested on an air conditioning unit. He forced his mind to think of other things besides the death of the Governor’s wife. But all he could see now was the daughter. Sadly, she was nameless to him. He knew her only as Governor Duncan’s daughter. Making a promise to learn her name, Rylan slept that night on the roof top, the stars and moonlight shining over him. His dreams showed only the face of the Governor’s daughter, smiling as she rushed into his arms.
As he slept, the news coverage of Governor Duncan’s wife and her death ran on every channel. The world slowly began to learn of Rylan Maddox’s failure. Their decision to judge him by it would seal their fate.
-8-
“They’ve already evacuated Woodhurst and Stonewall. We should start packing before they move us out as well,” Amy said.
“You’re probably right,” I said without actually making eye contact.
“Well are you going to help me?”
“You can start. I’ll be there when I’m done.”
Outside, the stormy weather worsened. Thunder reigned from the gray skies accompanying the growing vacuum-like winds of the tornados. And even with my death just miles away, I stayed calm. I feared no destruction because I knew I was the only one who would survive the storms of death. It was not my choice, but it was the choice of those who had not shown love and gratitude to the hero of Earth.
“Daddy, Daddy!”
“What’s up little man?”
“Mommy says we’re going to Grandma’s tonight.”
“That’s right. You’re off to Grandma’s house for a while.”
Amy walked back into the kitchen with some suitcases packed. She had her coat on and the keys in her hands.
“I’m taking the kids to my mother’s house. They’re going to evacuate everyone to the army base from there. Are you coming?”
“No. What good would it do?”
“What is going on? I know you know!”
“It’s the end of the world! What do you think it is?”
“What are you writing?”
She snatched the page from my type writer and scanned it quickly. Her lips trembled as she read the words. She tossed it to the floor unable to finish it.
“Why are you writing this?”
“Someone’s got to tell the story. Who better than me?”
“Jesus Christ. Is this about her? After all these years, you still can’t let her go?”
“It goes beyond her, Amy. The world always saw me as their crutch! They took me for granted! They used me!”
“No, that’s not true! You hated the fact that she never loved you!”
“None of them loved me as they should have!”
“Tell me, did you bring these storms upon us? Did you do this?”
I never answered her. Without shedding a tear, she took the children and I never saw her again. Did they make it to the army base? I don’t know.
-9-
The day Rylan Maddox proposed to Marianne Duncan was a day the world would regret. He had found her sleeping in her bed, when he tapped on the window. Willing to go with him, they took to the sky and found a private place to talk: Westward Kingdom Amusement Park.
She felt warm and relaxed in his arms and as they flew over the town, the darkness hiding the details of the landscape. Her breath against his neck sent nervous, but arousing chills over his body. For months they had spent time together, without her father’s permission. Spending the twilight hours together was the only way to keep their relationship a secret.
But it was not the relationship that many would consider appropriate for two individuals it their mid-twenties. It more like the type of relationship between two middle school aged children. They were uneasy in each others company, but still enjoyed the opportunity to share their intimate feelings as boy and girl, man and woman. Unable to be close to one another in the public eye, Rylan and Marianne used the cover of night as a chance to escape the world and its rule which they were to abide.
Rylan’s love for her was unquestioned. He planned for tonight to be the night that changed the course of the world and his life. The time was right for Earth’s lone ranger to start a family, and come home to the loving and caring arms he so desired.
“I’m always close that you think,” Rylan said with his hands in hers.
“I know. I saw you at my father’s last speech. He wants you dead, you know?”
“I don’t blame him. What do you want?”
“My mother.”
They were quiet for a long time. The two sat on the tracks on the roller coaster that had launched Rylan’s career as a hero. It was this very place where he had saved the lives of two and since he had saved and protected the lives of thousands. But even with all those lives saved and secured, Rylan had missed the one that meant the most. He could not save the family of the woman he had grown to love.
“Marry me. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you, and every day since I’ve loved you more and more. Pack you’re things; we could leave tonight. Marry me, Marianne. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
On one knee, Rylan brought forth a diamond ring, which glowed like the shining stars above in the moonlight. Quietly, he waited with a smile for his love to accept his proposal. Eternal love was but moments away.
She threw her hands over her face and started to run. Confused, Rylan went after her. He took her hands from her face and looked into her eyes, but she could not bare to look back. There was too much pain in her heart.
“I…I can’t!”
“Why? Don’t you love me?”
“How can I? Every time I look at you, I remember that day, and how much it hurt! No, I cannot marry you Rylan! I can’t!”
“NO! You must! I know you do!”
“I won’t! Leave me!”
“But I don’t want to be alone!”
“You won’t be! There are millions of people who love you for what you can do! Turn to them if you must! But I have nothing to give you!”
And then she walked away from me, leaving me standing in the cold darkness of the night. The woman I cared for and wanted to love did not return the same affections. So I did what any man would do. I choked back my deadly emotions, and moved on. The world lost it hero, but it gained an enemy, whose heart was made of stone. It could never break and never bleed.
-10-
I told you my powers were limited, but I was wrong. They were only limited because I had yet to imagine the next level, the greater possibilities. The idea came to me sometime after I was hunted, like a goddamn animal. Governor Duncan wanted my head in his trophy room, but I was far from willing to roll over and die.
When the Governor turned the world against me, I went into hiding, or rather exile. Nearly all those I had saved now wished for my death. I left my New Jersey home in DarkWater Boro behind and moved out west to Ohio. I had some family there, but they shunned me too.
For ten years I had given my life to serve and protect the innocent, and I spent another ten starting over. I had been judged guilty on the basis of one failure. The more I watched the world search for me, the more I came to realize they had only used me. They never desired a savior. They craved only someone to use, to make their pains and problems disappear. They used me like a tool, and when I became expendable, they sought to destroy me. There had never been any love or thanks for my efforts.
So I married Amy, partially because she showed me love, and partially because she would keep me a secret. Like the world had used me I used her. I used her to plot my redemption. All of the people who now loathed me would know what I was truly capable of. And when they begged on their knees for forgiveness only then would I stop.
I traveled to Kansas, where open fields were essential to my progress. I lied to Amy and the kids and told them I had to go out there for a job. It was a half-truth. I began to test the limits of my power over the course of three weeks. At first, my speed was limited to a mere hundred twenty miles an hour and I could only stay in flight for three hours. With continuous use and training my powers grew at a rapid rate. It became so great that I had no means to measure or determine just how powerful I had become.
The only problem that remained was my physical strength. All those years of lifting cars and trains had worn my body down. I would be torn apart at my maximum speed, so I learned to channel all my powers equally through out my skeleton and muscles. In a matter of days I was able to create the ultimate disaster.
With my new evolved powers, I created twelve tornados larger and more destructive than any ever recorded by man. They became so powerful that I lost control of them. The tornados took to the corners of the world and I was left to watch them work. Badly weakened from my creations, I rested in the field for two days in a coma. When I woke I discovered the state of my powers had returned to normal. My heart was strained to the point where it nearly gave in, but somehow I survived.
I returned home, where my wife had learned of the tornados. Apparently, the Earth’s brightest scientific minds were at a loss as to how such tornados could manifest without warning. As the cities fell around the globe, I relaxed in front of the television as the bastards that ostracized me called my name to save them once more. But I would do no such thing. They had a lesson to learn and I planned to teach it thoroughly.
-11-
I moved from my type writer and looked out the window. The tornado was about three or four miles away devouring everything in its path. I stumbled out the front door with the empty cognac bottle in my fist. I felt a good buzz, but I knew what was unfolding before me. I got in my pick-up and drove off.
Over the radio I heard the cries for help. I left it on listening to the women screaming, the children crying, the men dying. I switched the station over and I heard an unfamiliar broadcast. At first it was scarcely audible, but as I got further away from the cyclones it came in clearly.
“If your listening….if anyone is…DarkWater…Army Base is…trouble…help! Women and children in danger! Ry…addox…if you’re...please…!”
I clicked it off. The guilt inside of me was swelling. Never had I heard cries and screams of such terror. But hearing them and the way they made my skin tremble told me that this was real. I was really going to kill all the people of the Earth. The reality of the situation had yet to sink into my mind until this moment. The consequences of my actions shined brightly like a beacon in the ocean fog. What have I done?
I pulled the truck over the road side and stared out the windshield. I had gone from savior to Satan. And for what reason? How could I be so selfish? I failed to find the love I craved, but there were so many out there who had so much to give. I had turned a gift into a curse and a curse into damnation. All would suffer because of the loveless life I endured. The world had not used me, but I had tried to use them. Love cannot be forced or demanded. It had to be earned and discovered.
I had to find a way to make things right between the people I swore to defend and myself. I ditched the truck and used my speed to race to the army base. I was at maximum velocity, pushing myself beyond my limitations. And when my speed fatigued my legs, I took to the skies.
I saw the lake that was the symbol of DarkWater Boro. With waters as dark as the abyss, no soul dare venture in for fear of the legends that surrounded it. Apparently, the same fear was passed on to my creations. The tornados had left the lake untouched, its water tranquil and full. Perhaps the tornados passed by the lake because they believed it would destroy them, ending their mission prematurely. The only certainty anymore was that lake was evil and it would live on even after man was long gone and dead.
I confess I was unsure of exactly what I was going to do. There stood the tornado several hundred yards from the perimeter of the base. It inhaled tanks, trucks, fences, homes and the surrounding forest wilderness. Its gray and black swirling mass seemed to grow more evil and powerful with each new place it decimated. But if I created it, I could stop it.
Landing inside the base, soldiers applauded and cheered my return. People rushed out to me shouting and screaming for me to do something. I held my hands up to calm them down. I saw Amy and the kids huddled in the back of the crowd. Another husband and wife were comforting them, trying to keep the kids distracted. She looked into my eyes and saw the truth. Her tears streaming like rivers, she knew what I had done. I looked into her eyes. There was no sign of forgiveness.
“Where have you come from? Where have you been?” someone asked in the crowd of the scared and hopeless.
“I’ve been gone too long, but I am here now, and I swear to you, I will not fail.”
“What do you plan to do?” a nearby soldier questioned.
Turning back to the tornado, it absorbed two helicopters that got too close. Two explosions crushed any hope that anyone could survivor such a force. Many people gasped and others ran for cover.
“Ok, I’m going in. Nobody come after me. But before I leave, I want everyone to know I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
I did not answer. I took flight and soared into the clouds. Heavy rains crashed
against me, but I pushed through it and floated high above the center of the tornado. Unconcerned anymore for my own well being, I slowly drifted down into the heart of the funnel. If I had enough strength I could reverse the winds and potentially cancel them out, but this was only a theory. So I began the spin that originally created this monster, but in reverse. It appeared to be working initially, but something as unexpected as the sixth shooter happened. My powers began to fade away.
-12-
I fell from the sky, my back snapping and breaking the fall. Paralyzed and drunk I laid in the mud, defenseless and broken. My arms still functioned, but I only sank deeper into the mud the more I struggled.
The calm would pass soon and the tornado would swallow me like all its other victims. As I waited for my end, I pondered what went wrong. Perhaps the cognac numbed the part of me that was my power. Maybe I had used the last of the powers. But tears fell from my eyes as I thought of all I had done. The world had counted on me and I failed them. Now I understood why the Earth had never known a savior or a hero. Heroes are still human and can easily be corrupt by power, by love, by anger. I was living proof of such an example. I told myself I could bring peace and love to myself and the planet, but I had done just the opposite. I had acted without a rational thought as to what the outcome of my actions might be. I had done the devil’s work for him and he thanked me for this favor.
This is a failure’s story, a futile attempt to be your hero.
Holding on to my last breath, I rather swallow it and die.
Holding on to my last breath, I rather swallow it and die.
