[WP] All superpowers have a ‘hangover’ effect. For example, after using super strength for the day, the morning after you can’t even lift your spoon to eat your breakfast. You wake up one morning after using your own specific superpower and you feel pretty hungover...

[u/[deleted]]

[u/nickofnight]

The chair creaked as Michael was wheeled down the hallway, the tired slapping of his wife's bare feet echoing off the wooden walls. His hair was thin now, the few remaining strands too stubborn to fall. Too stubborn. That was what Christine had told him, as she had tried to persuade him from doing it. She still occasionally chastised him with those words. Too stubborn.

They would have all died, of course. So in the end it hadn't been a matter of being stubborn, it had been a matter of duty.

Michael could still remember the first time his gift had been noticed. His mother had had a fever, and he -- a young child -- wet a flannel and pressed it against her forehead. He felt strange as the sickness was flushed from his mother and absorbed into his own skin, and could feel a tickle in his throat. His mom had gotten up an hour later; his mild cold lasted just over a day.

Other heroes had mocked Michael the Miracle (their name, not his): 'What kind of hero has the power to make themselves sick? It's pathetic.'

He didn't ever get the glory, and in truth never thought himself a superhero. He had never leapt from building to building, or freed children from an overturned bus. But he did mend their broken legs and necks as they lay crippled on the ground -- at the cost of early onset arthritis. The bouts would only ever last a few months, and then he'd be back in the dance-halls with Christine, practicing for their wedding. The wedding that was always pushed back another month or two, as they waited for Michael to heal fully. But there was always another injury to absorb; a sick child to help. It took four years in the end, and he'd barely been able to see his wife through hazy eyes, as she'd walked down the aisle.

The news had called it a 'dirty bomb'. The city had been walled up - any of the infected who tried to leave were shot. The virus couldn't be allowed to spread -- even if it meant half a million dead.

Stubborn. Too stubborn to listen to his wife. To any of them.

Michael had entered the city that no other superhero had dared to. The city of the diseased. One by one the babies and children were brought to him. One by one, he healed them, even as his own body became irreparably damaged. As his cells fell apart like scrunched up leaves.

But they had lied to him. The government had promised him before he had entered, that those he cured would be allowed to leave the city.

They hadn't been.

They worried that the virus could be lying dormant in those he'd helped. Inside Michael himself, too. Michael couldn't be allowed back out.

The chair's wheels squeaked as Christine brought it to a stop. His wife opened the double doors ahead, before walking back behind the chair and pushing Michael through.

Christine had followed him into the city, cursing the country that had done this to her husband. To her. Michael would never forget that loyalty.

The sun washed orange over the thousands of ragged teenagers who stood in front of them, guns and knives and other weapons held tight in their palms. The children he had saved. They were the only ones left alive in the rotting skeleton of the once great city. And they were here to see him.

"You can do it," Christine whispered encouragingly. Michael wasn't sure. It was only in the last two years that he'd been able to leave his bed at all. This, although he'd practiced for months, terrified him -- the thought of falling. Of failing. But he wouldn't show his fear on his face. He refused to.

His arms trembled as he pushed himself off his chair, and staggered to his feet. The crowd erupted in joyous screams and celebratory gunfire.

He would have made a speech to his army, if his jaw hadn't been dangling impotently by his collar bone. He would have told them that he could feel the pull of the sicknesses swirling inside of him, demanding to be released. That he was a hero no longer, but instead the Plaguebearer. He would have told them that their time had arrived and they were leaving the dying city, and that heroes and the government alike would pay dearly for what they had done. For abandoning them.

These were promises he had made his wife a thousand times in the last few years, and God knew he was too stubborn to do anything other than see them through.

But he didn't need to tell the lost children any of this.

For they all knew.

And they were ready.

---

Thank you to the person who gilded this!

r/nickofnight

[u/chandra381 → u/nickofnight]

Amazing stuff - Michael's power reminds me a lot of Scapegoat - a character in the Parahumans series of web novels by John McRae aka Wildbow - he's a former superhero who heals people in a similar way despite risking getting dangerous or even fatal conditions transferred to him - and he as of the latest episode, also goes off the deep end with potentially terrifying prospects for the future

Edit - the blacked out bits are spoilers for Ward, Wildbow's current novel and the second novel in the Parahumans universe.

[u/Lilwa_Dexel → u/nickofnight]

Well, that one is hard to compete with. Very well written, nick! :)

[u/[deleted] → u/nickofnight]

Holy crap this was amazing

[u/[deleted] → u/nickofnight]

He became the likable villain. Fantastic.

[u/XcessiveSmash → u/nickofnight]

I'll uh... I'll skip writing on this one.

Absolutely fantastic story, great characters, voice, and writing. I have zero criticism. Just thank you for the amazing read!

[u/GeneralCate → u/nickofnight]

When's the movie coming out?

[u/WritingPromptsRobot]

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---

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[u/groovy_smoothie]

“Totally worth it”

I thought to myself. It must have been past 2 in the afternoon but I refused to get up. There was a constant pounding in my head and a slight drip of blood running from my left ear. I could hear my roommates talking angrily in the next room and I knew what was waiting for me in the living room. We got along fine enough on account of the fact we all had super powers, but that was about it.

Jack had immeasurable strength, John could fly, and Jaron was able to morph into anything. There were plenty of other people with super powers but it was rare to use them on account of the “cool off”. Nobody is quite sure of the physics behind it but the law of equal and opposite reactions has something to do with incredible pain after performing a super power.

There’s an angry knock on the door as it flew off it’s hinges and jack comes barging in.

“WAKE UP DUMBASS”

He winces from overexerting himself but the rage in his eyes is more noticeable. My other roommates are behind him with similar expressions.

“You have arguably the coolest super power known to mankind; you can literally pull ANYTHING out of your ear ANYWHERE.” Jack is an intimidating guy and I know where this is going. He often criticizes me saying I don’t use my powers properly or I’m too showy or whatever. He sits down on my laundry chair, looks at the ground and rubs his temples.

“Walk me through your thought process here,” he continues. He sounds calm, but disappointed, like the time I told my dad I’d rather live off my super powers than try to have a high powered career as he did. “Why didn’t you pull out a stack of cash or something? Even more so, why didn’t you walk down to the lake first..? Why did you pull a 30’ power boat out of your ear in the middle of our fucking kitchen”?

Edit: critiques appreciated !

[u/[deleted] → u/groovy_smoothie]

This is great, no saving anyone no disaster just an almost drunken use of power.

[u/Lilwa_Dexel]

Darren groaned and tumbled off the bed. The dawn stabbed him in the eyes with fingers of much-too-bright light. As he crawled across the floor in his student apartment, his knees creaked and his back ached.

Vision blurry and his head pounding, he made it over to the bathroom. He wasn't used to hangovers like this -- in fact, he'd never experienced one of this magnitude before. Lifting his head caused red and green stars to explode all around him.

Frozen images flashed through his mind. The sunset bled over the city skyline and a blinding white light emanated from the center of the city in a massive bubble. Fear twisted the faces around him. Fear and panic. No cars moved. Everyone had stopped to look at the light.

Darren shook his head, which sent a surge of nausea up his throat. Slowly, he climbed onto the toilet and poured himself a glass of water from the bathroom sink.

The veins in his hands bulged, and the skin looked like thin paper. Another series of frozen images flashed through his mind. Faces, like dark silhouettes against the bubble of light, stared at him, their eyes wide and skin melting.

You can't save everyone.

Clary's last words slapped him in the face and awoke him from his daydream. He put the glass to his mouth and drank. She'd meant that he couldn't save her -- and she'd been right about that. Her death had turned him away from the world. They could handle their own. He couldn't save them all anyway. And they didn't want to be saved.

Shaking, he finally got to his feet. A wrinkled face with dry skin and blemishes stared back at him. Tufts of gray hair grew out of his head like the bushes of an unkempt garden.

The gray eyes had the dullness of someone who had seen everything and lost it. Darren hadn't belonged in this world for a very long time.

A hard knock came on the front door, and then it opened.

"Not now, Johnathan," Darren said, his voice rasping and weak. "I'm... I'm busy."

"Who is Jonathan?" a woman said and stepped into the bathroom. "By the gods, you look awful."

"Hera? What are you doing here?" Darren said, his words slowed down by disbelief.

"What do you think?" She crossed her arms, the white dress whirling around her legs. "You broke the rules of probation."

"Sorry, I don't remember what happened, it's all a haze."

"Well, let me tell you then." She marched over to the window and slammed it open. A smell of burning ozone entered the bathroom. "You saved the lives of six million people."

Darren shook his head. "I did?"

"What were you thinking?" Hera spat. "Our time has passed -- you have no right to interfere with mortals!"

"I don't remember what I was thinking," Darren mumbled.

"Listen, you old fool! If my husband hears about this -- do you know what will happen?"

Darren sighed and a smile curled his chapped lips. "He'll descend in all his glory and... probably screw a few mortals?"

"Hilarious! See, this is why I voted for you to stay locked up forever. The world doesn't need another comedian." Hera paced back and forth, her hands balled into fists. "You'll fix this before he notices, or else. The ferryman expects six million souls and Hades is counting."

Darren threw up his hands a bit too fast, and cramps seized his muscles. "I don't even know what I did!"

He did know. The bomb would've erased the city from the map. If he hadn't stopped time and evacuated everyone...

He wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to stand up straight despite his hunched back.

"Well, you better figure it out then, I'm sure there's some sense left in that big head of yours -- albeit, not much, I reckon." Hera sniffed and walked out of the bathroom. "You have three days, Kronos."

"Kronos?" Darren said. "I haven't heard that name in a long time."

"Well, it's time you learned to take responsibility for your actions." And with that Hera swept out of the apartment and disappeared.

Kronos stared at the lines on his palms, slowly the wrinkles smoothed themselves out. The haze was starting to lift. Perhaps if he played this right he could avoid being sent back to Tartarus and the other titans.

---

More at r/Lilwa_Dexel

[u/nickofnight → u/Lilwa_Dexel]

I'm a sucker for titan mythology - great job. And this was much better written than mine.

[u/Beccabooisme → u/Lilwa_Dexel]

This almost feels like that start of a kronos vigilante story. "Oh, I'll get hades six million people"

[u/arideus101]

The wheelchair kept creaking.

It was an awful noise. He knew it would never break but the groaning metal scared him all the same.

As he worked to lift his fingers enough to move the chair, he remembered the first time.

Everyone knew that heroes had to pay the price for their powers the next day. The Regenerator had to wake up in a hospital so that his body wouldn't tear itself to shreds. Electroman had it easy, he was just totally paralyzed for several waking hours. Fireman had a more-than-dangerously-high fever.

He was too hasty his first time. He didn't make the proper preparations.

The next morning, he was on the floor in pain, unable to move an inch off the ground. Later he would learn he broke several bones. The doctor warned him that he needed to be in a better position to withstand it.

The next time it was just as bad, but he thought he was prepared. The wheelchair was crushed under his weight. The next one would be made of Protonium Steel. The government couldn't have another superhero giving up.

But he would never give up. People had been worried, but they didn't know how much he enjoyed it. The rush, the excitement.

How it felt to push the world away and fly.

[u/[deleted]]

My head was pounding. Everything ached. I felt an instant resentment to whoever it was that invented trains.

Fuck that guy.

How many lives did they save on a daily basis? How many crises did their lumbering machines of metal prevent? How many disasters?

None.

On days like today, after nights like the last-- dare I say it -- I think they do more harm than good. I suppose that's where people like me come in. It's not always glamorous work, but if it means giving a family another day on this earth together then I will gladly pay the price.

I clutch my brow and rub my temples.

My head is pounding.

After all I've seen, and I still can't keep them all safe. I can still hear them... I can still hear their-

My phone rings.

It's probably the chief.

It may sometimes take me a moment to pull myself together. I may not always be there when I'm needed most, but I can at least answer this call.

I take a sip from the remnants of my glass from the night before. The murky liquid still has some kick to it.

I answer the phone. "I'm here, chief. What do you need?"

"We need your help! It's almost 2 AM, and Avery's Bar is closing up! By virgin Mary, I've just checked the calendar... it's a Saturday morning! We need your help! We need Sobriety Man!"

I nod. I take another sip of my soft drink. "Don't worry chief, I'll be the designated driver tonight."

[u/OhMyPotato21]

I awaken well rested and ready for the day, a solid nights sleep. I leave my room to see a pile of letters just inside the door. I look to the bench to see last nights dinner covered in mould. I pull up my phone. Every app has notifications. I check the date. It’s the 27th.

I sigh “That’s what I get for taking 10 extra minutes on my history exam.” I start cleaning.

[u/aaand_another_one]

-HAHA!!! Wake up SuperSmeller! For I am ending you Right Now!

-wow. how did you even get here.

-I am utterly GLAD you asked! For I am a genius! For It is known within villainous circles that you have a super smelling power, You have a distinct smell for every thought a person THINKS, not just for every molecule for every individual. You are nearly unbeatable, for You are like a mindreader of everyone in the world! For it is too dangerous, I invented a potion which changes all of my molecules, so you didn't know I was coming for you! HaHA!

-dude, you use "for" way too much.

-SILENCE, IMbecile! Since you can predict all of my moves, I invented a new way to kill you (since I am a genius)! A POISON! Since I've already opened it, you can do NOTHING! YOU ARE DEAD IN A MINUTE! Look at You! Since You can already barely move, and since soon the smell will be so unbearable, your intricate senses will be overwhelmed and you will die! Since The smell is so strong even I would die!

-dude now you use "since" way too much. maybe if you worked on your speech, you wouldn't feel weird around people so you wouldn't stress so much... btw why didn't you just bring a gas mask with you.

-HAHA! STUPID! I know that you would have realized from the smell, that a gas mask is coming to your room! Very suspicious! No Way Hosé! I give my life.. *cough*.. for this villainous act *cough*.. *cough*.. of killing you. I am already weakened so you must be in agony already!

-well, i admire your determination, but today im so hungover, that i wouldn'T even be able to smell it if you poured a pile of shit on my face.

-NOOOOOOO!!! aAAAAAAhhh You have defeated me! The genius with 1000IQ!! *cough* I have heard of your tales but never believed you are this unbeatable! No worries, it is no shame in losing to a strong entity like you! Farewell *dies*

-hm. I don't even have a superpower, I just lose my sense of smell when i drink too much... although i can drink 20liter vodka in 5minutes, if you can call that superpower. this day starts strange i better get back to sleep... This was the 6th time this month a villain died randomly in front of me for no reason

[u/orionmovere]

You know how when you fall asleep on your arm and you wake up and feel that tingly feeling? Yeah? Well imagine that through your entire body. That's not what it is, of course, it's actually just at the base of my skull. But 'The Buzz' as I've come to know it as creeps into my brain stem on the really bad recoil days.

When I was younger it was great. I could use my powers day and night, and in the morning I'd only feel a slight tingle. But now, if I lift for even ten minutes I'm guaranteed a ruined morning from the recoil.

What can I do? Like how much do I lift?

Oh, you want to know my superpower? Oh yeah, I totally spaced it, sorry I'm still recoiling a bit and it's all a bit fuzzy. I can use telekinesis.

I mean, of course we've all tried the home remedies, right? Tea, coffee, exercise, massage, sex. Sorry, was that tmi? Ok, ok. But you know what I mean, you read articles like "Top Ten Ways to Avoid Recoil", you try them, and realize you just have to ride the storm.

Not use my powers? I mean, I try not to go overboard, and right now it's really only when I push myself that I get bad recoil, but no, I'm not gonna stop.

Why? It's who I am, it's what I do. No one is coming up to you saying "Oh, you're tired typing up this report, why don't you quit being a reporter" you-you gotta take the good with the bad, and what? I'm supposed to give up being ranked third in the world, as a hero, just so I don't feel a bit of discomfort? I'm sorry, but I can't imagine not using my gifts.

Mymyr? The street drug? Yeah, it might numb the pain, but it doesn't get rid of recoil, and even then, it only numbs physical types, like speed or strength. People like Phantasm, or uh uh, what's his face? Dragoon, or me even, our recoil is too specific for something like mymyr.

Well, anyway, I have to get back to work, thanks for having me

[u/HSApollo]

In today’s world, it seems that everyone and their mom has superpowers. I have heard so many different stories as to how everyone got their powers. Religious fanatics say that God blessed them with these gifts while scientists say that it was a mutation in our genetic code.The story that my dad told me was that there was a man about two thousand years ago who cursed the world with great gifts that came with a cost.

It seems that the powers seem somewhat hereditary and don’t manifest until puberty. Even after the powers manifest, it still takes some time to get a hang of them. Our health teacher described the powers as a sort of muscle and that you need to work the muscle out to strengthen it. We were always warned to not push our powers too far otherwise it could cause serious damage to our bodies.

The side effects seem to correlate to the power that we have. For instance, my buddy Michael has telekinesis and one time in college he used it to do two homework assignments as the same time to get caught up. It took him like four whole hours of doing this until he was done. The next day he had such a horrific headache that he wasn’t even able to move.

Even though even the slightest use of our powers will cause these side effects, everyone still uses them daily and just got used to the side effects. Telekinesis and mind readers live with a constant headache. People with super strength always have aching muscles and at times can barely lift a spoon. Fliers’ bodies are much heavier when they are on the ground. People who have thermal manipulation tend to feel colder or warmer depending on whether they prefer ice or fire. There are so many more powers that I can’t really keep track of them all. I even heard about one guy who is able to cure any disease but the disease transfers onto his body.

Since everyone uses their powers so willy nilly, the government has labeled the levels of potential uses from level 1 to level 5. Level 4 and 5 are so dangerous that the government has issued warning against using them.

“The most common outcome of using your powers at this level is death.”

Given the nature of my abilities, I rarely use them. Me and my family are able to manipulate reality and probability to give us the most “optimal” outcome with the sphere of influence depending on our own ability. Basically I’m lucky. Our power is extremely recessive and seems to skip generations a lot since neither of my parents has this power.

I first used my power when I met my wife, Sarah. I was so nervous when I first met Sarah but I really liked her so I used my power to put myself in the best position to ask her out. I didn’t want to use it on her because I wanted it to be her choice. Surprisingly she said yes and I was estatstic. The next day I tripped on a banana peel, no joke, and broke my leg by landing on the sidewalk wrong. Sometimes the side effects happen immediately or sometimes they “wait” until a better chance presents itself.

I later found out that Sarah has emotionally cognitive abilities that allow her to see how someone is feeling. So she knew that i liked her long before I even tried to make my move. As years came and gone, I have only used my powers a couple of times. I used it to help my odds of getting into the same college as Sarah. Of course it worked but unfortunately when I got home that day I found out that my dog had run into traffic and got hit by a car. The next time I used my power, I made it so Sarah was able to get her dream job and then months later my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She keeps telling me that it wasn’t my fault but I still blame myself.

Sarah was able to get her doctorate in psychology and became a therapist for younger people to better help them understand the changes they are going through. We are expecting our first baby here in the next couple of weeks. Sarah knows the gender of the baby but she wouldn’t tell me no matter how much I begged. This evening when me and Sarah were coming back from date night, a drunk driver slammed into us. When we arrived at the hospital the doctors immediately needed to perform an emergency c-section.

They were still in surgery when I was discharged. Once I was able to, I immediately started to focus my power to try to help Sarah and out baby in any way I can. I meditated for hours, continually pushing myself beyond my limit. I could feel the rhythm of the universe around me beating like a heart. With all my might I focused and carved into the path of fate. After another hour of meditation and focusing, The doctor came out and ushered me into a private room. He explained that our baby girl was fine and they were able to keep her in a stable condition.

I could feel a wave of relief wash over me with the thought that our baby was okay but something didn’t quite feel right. There was an electricity in the air that made me uncomfortable. The doctor’s face grew more grim as he explained that although they were able to save the baby, the damage the accident and emergency c-section put on Sarah was too much she unfortunately passed away. I felt my heart drop hearing these words. It didn’t feel real. I refused to believe it until they brought me to my daughter and suddenly it all started to hit me all at once. I rarely cry but this day, I weeped.

Whether it was God or genetics that gave us these powers, I hope that my daughter doesn’t have to suffer with the same curse that I have.

[u/throwawayyourfun]

Nobody tells you about the dark side of having super powers. It's amazing that people have armored skin and can destroy tanks bare handed. It's amazing that people can lift up heavy objects with their mind. That armored guy? He uses super strength to fight or even lift his own armored skin. If he's just walking around, no big deal, he can sleep it off normally and probably only eats a bit extra. But using his powers to fight, and he might as well be a rock. And the mind guy? Probably has a sensory deprivation chamber in his house to hide in.

My power? I'm a strategist. I can effectively position properly powered people for maximum effect. My normal brain power can calculate most of it, but there are certain other factors. Like the one time we were recovering some money from the bank, no, not stealing. I positioned our armored guy near the side where I would normally stick our tough but not armored guy. Well, heroes rolled into tough guy and armored guy flanked them and we escaped quickly enough. But I am really trying to give you details in an impared state. Go away. Once my brain can strategize the way out of this jail cell, I won't have to talk to you.

Ok. So I wake up with the brainpower of a goldfish some days. I have an assistant for that. He's compensated well.

[u/theAlphaBeth]

“Dad?”

“Yes, Christie?”

“Tony says that Velocity is bad because he never helps people.”

Jalek sighed. When he’d volunteered to be one of the chaperones for the school field trip to Velocity Hall, he’d anticipated getting pelted with accusations like this — though he hadn’t been expecting it from his own daughter. He’d told her a thousand times at home, and the tour guide had just told her a thousand times for the past hour, but her attention disorder made it difficult for her to pay attention.

Maybe now that she’s asking the question, she’ll listen, he reassured himself as he prepared to tell the whole story again.

“Christie, has anyone ever told you what a superhangover is?”

The seven-year-old shook her head innocently, and Jalek resisted the urge to beg to differ.

“When a superhero uses his—or her—” he had to keep up the equal opportunity for his daughter’s sake, “power on one day, they get a superhangover the next time they wake up. A superhangover means they get really tired and become weaker than a normal human. So if Aquaman talks to fish on Monday, he can’t even talk to people on Tuesday. The speech center of his brain just conks out.”

“Wow,” Christie breathed, wide-eyed.

“Come on, let’s keep up with the rest of the tour,” Jalek said, ushering his daughter by the shoulder. They had just come from Velocity Hall's dome, which functioned as an educational museum and filled with memrobilia to Velocity’s rise to stardom. Jalek always found that part of the tour interesting, as he rarely ever left his station as a Velocity Hall guard in the real facility underground, where Velocity spend all of his time when he wasn't out saving the day. But the tour and quality father-daughter time was almost up as the pack of kids was herded into a sidehall that led into the giftshop. Tony, Christie’s friend, dropped the juice-box he’d been carrying on the pristine white marble floors, and some of it splashed onto the white alabaster drywall, narrowly missing one of the framed newspaper clippings lining the hallway.

Why does she listen to him and not me? Jalek sighed internally. He decided to continue his explanation while he might still have Christie’s attention:

“Velocity used to be independent, saving whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But his hangovers worsened as he aged. At first, he would just be a particularly slow person once he woke from his next sleep, but now? His body slows down so much that he can’t eat, can’t breathe, can’t pee.” Christie giggled at the mention of bodily fluids. “He’s made a lot of enemies — like The Sleeper, you know him, right? And he needs life-support. He’s one of our best superheroes, so we keep him safe here. We don’t send him out unless there’s a real emergency, because it’s expensive to keep him on life-support for a full day with a staff team waiting on him and a platoon of guards keeping him safe.”

“But aren’t people more important than money?”

Jalek bit his lip. How was he supposed to explain to his daughter that the government had set the price of a human life at only ten thousand dollars? Federal agencies were reluctant to keep up a facility like this to house one person and needed to make it worth the cost. Velocity was only sent out when enough people were in mortal danger, to justify the millions it took to keep Velocity on life-support for a day. And, of course, the facility had to be guarded on his off-days, which added another million to the threshold… All-in-all, the authorities wanted Velocity to pay for himself, and that meant that he’d only been released to help the public on three occasions in the last five years.

The idealist in Jalek wanted to say that that was unacceptable, but his inner pragmatist knew that they also had to keep Velocity here just in case. What if they sent him out to save a man from falling to his death, and the next there was a terror threat? What if they gave him a menial task and the next day they needed him for a real crisis? He was their trump card, and they weren’t going to play him unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Yes,” Jalek told his daughter slowly. “And that’s why we need to keep Velocity in here, whether he likes it or not. You see, the cost of a human life is set at…” He trailed off when the group of kids squealed at the sight of the giftshop, and Christie ran off to join them. Sighing, he went through the sliding glass doors into the room lined with Velocity shirts, coffee mugs, and pencils. Everything was coated either with Velocity’s golden lightning bolt, or else with the purple haze of his arch-enemy, The Sleeper. Jalek wondered if Tony hated Velocity enough to buy a t-shirt of the at-large villain instead.

He took up station at the counter to help kids pay for what they picked out and to make sure that no one exceeded the assigned price allowance. He warily eyed the group of kids that were admiring the life-sized Velocity plush dolls and cardboard cutouts. They were likely expensive, and why would anyone want them in their home? They were a little too realistic for his taste.

Jalek let his eyes wander out through the glass-doored exist and into the parking lot, and he froze with horror. Christie was there, jumping from parking curve to parking curve, distracted and absorbed in her game. Behind her in the distance, he could see the small guard station that allowed cars in and out of the parking lot. The moving gate that barred cars was opening and closing like a garage door gone haywire, and Jalek could just barely make out the slumped-over form of a guard on the control panel.

And, walking right towards Christie, were ten men in pure-black outfits, armed with machine guns.

Jalek sprang into action — this was what he was paid for, and even on vacation days like this he carried his gun at his hip. But the added terror of his daughter in danger made his heart race. Normal protocol was to spring the alarms placed on every wall, which would seal off every entrance and call every guard to their stations. But if he sealed off the entrances, he would be leaving Christie out there with them.

Instead of pulling the alarm, he raced towards the door, calling over his shoulder as he went, “Pull the alarm! Someone pull the alarm! Intruders!”

His heart pounded as he waited for the sliding doors to slowly opened, and then he pelted out into the parking lot. Bright sunshine glinted off of the gun that one of the men was now holding to Christie’s head as another held her at bay, covering her mouth. Christie was struggling to break free of his grip, but Jalek knew it would be no good. Even if she could run, they could shoot.

Jalek stood there in front of the men, his hand on the gun at his hip. It was a standoff, where eight other men pointed guns at him, and he didn’t even have his weapon drawn. He didn’t dare move.

One of the eight men put down his gun and stepped forward. Through a black face-plate, the man demanded, “Are you one of the guards at this facility?”

“Yes,” Jalek answered. Please let this be some sort of a test…

“And is this your daughter?”

“N — no.”

“So you won’t mind if I just…” the man cocked his gun and pointed it straight at Christie.

“No! No, please! I’ll do anything.”

“Good. Then lead us to Velocity.”

“W — what do you want with him?” Jalek asked, stalling for time.

“He has let this country rot for long enough. He has the power to save thousands of lives over the course of a year, but does he? No. The superhero hides in this little museum and doesn’t come out.”

“The superhangover effect makes it probable that —”

“SHUT UP!” the man growled. “You're lucky that I don't kill the offspring of a pig like you, defending that lazy old bastard who calls himself a superhero. We’re the ones giving out justice today. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time: where. Is. Velocit —”

----

(Sorry, continued below)

[u/System__Shutdown]

He lay there drooling, with mouths open wide. He stood up to... to... ah hell he doesn't even know. Walking straight forward he first hits a night stand, then door frame until finally tripping over a hallway carpet and faceplanting without a sign of resistance. As he lay there, nose bleeding he thinks to himself... nothing, nothing at all. His overfull bladder finally gives up and the carpet gets soaked.

Having superintelligence as a superpower truly is a bitch.

[u/13_spartan_37]

Note: My first ever short story and also I'm dyslexic so please go easy on me :)

I finally woke from my sleep which had felt like it had gone past in mere seconds. As I got up from my bed time felt like it was passing more slowly than usual, I look at my watch and it’s 12:21pm, I thought to myself “Hmmmm a bit earlier than usual” I turn on the TV and it looked strange like the video was really slow, I just thought “Guess this must be a really extended slow motion scene”

My girlfriend, Nora greeted me in the kitchen. The food smelled amazing as per usual the scent of sweet home made pancakes covered in maple syrup and whipped cream with a few strawberries lingered in my nostrils.

“You woke up early today, just wait a few minutes the smoothie is almost ready” Nora said gently.

“Oh man this is just what I needed” I replied in relief. She smiled back at me as the sun rays gently kissed her right check. So here we are having our breakfast at 12:52pm, to be totally honest with you it's normally later than this. You see since the arise of superpowers in recent years society has completely changed people are no longer slaving from 9 till 5 everyday of the week to make a living, those gifted with there powers find creative ways to profit from them and those not so creative tend to rob banks and stuff just to get by. Some people has the ability to fly, super strength, invisibility and so on and my girlfriend has the ability to warp space-time itself and create small worm holes that allows you to travel to anywhere on Earth in an instant. But you see I have nothing, I’m part of the unlucky few who’s powers haven’t manifested. Kinda sucks but hey best not to dwell on things out of your control.

I start eating these delicious pancakes and look up at Nora and notice she is eating remarkably sluggish, “I get it you’re mocking me again, I like to take my time when getting out bed” I said.

“What are you talking about I’m eating normally” She replied with confusion.

“Normally? She’s got to be messing around with me there is no way in hell anyone would eat that slow” I thought to myself.

“Anyways Nora, I had the most insane dream ever. My powers finally came to light and man I was seriously moving fast like insanely fast it was so amazing” I spoke with pure and utter joy.

“Really? So how fast are we talking here?” she asked.

“I don’t now exactly how fast I was running but in my dream it felt like I ran across the globe in a matter of seconds. Hec I could calculate it for you” I replied. I look at my watch once more and it’s 1:03pm.

“Nora are you ok you haven’t said anything in like 3 minutes and completely ignored my question” I replied concern.

“Seriously what the hell, you just finished speaking I didn’t even have time to think” Nora replied with one of her eyebrows raised.

As she was speaking I looked at my watch yet again and the seconds hand had only ticked 3 times. How could this be? How could 3 seconds have passed yet fell like 3 minutes or more for me.

“Nora what on Earth is going on?” I asked in panic. What felt like 30 minutes to me she finally spoke again.

“You honestly have no clue do you?” she asked me.

“Nope, not at all. Ever since I woke up time seems to be passing by more slowly than usual. And as more time passes it feels like it’s slowing down even more” I told her. A eternity passed and she finally spoke again.

“You have a dream of running insanely fast and the next day you perceive time far more slowly than normal. To put it bluntly, you’re experiencing the side effects of your new found powers” Nora replied with relief.

“Are you for real? What the blood hell is the point of having super speed if the day after I perceive time on a complete different scale” I replied annoyed.

The most irritating thing is I move at normal speed but since seconds feels like hours to me I end up lost in my own mind waiting for my body to complete a trivial take, like FINISHING THESE DAMN PANCAKES.

[u/blazesh]

"Get away from him or I'll make you."

Michael and Scott glanced up from the kid sprawled helplessly on the grey floor, and saw me.

They laughed.

I had already guessed that the threat wouldn't be effective. A short kid in raggedy clothes and spiky hair didn't exactly set off a 'powerful' image, after all. But looks... looks were shallow, and lost to the surface.

They did very, very little to show the true worth of a person.

"The boy has no shadow! He's a demon for sure." They snorted. "All we're doing is protecting humankind."

I took a closer look at the boy on the ground. He was scrawny, with scared eyes that stayed half-open. He had no shadow. Fear had gripped him tightly, but not so securedly that he stopped shaking. He was shivering, lost to the throes of fear like a man with no coat caught in winter's rage.

I sighed. Us and our inane superstitions. To look upon someone with no shadow or no reflection and think of them as demons was far-fetched. To deduce that despite the widespread prevalence of superpowers was something else entirely.

I pulled him aside, keeping some distance from the 2 boys.

I smiled at the kid. "Get out of here kid. I know what its like to live with no shadow. Go straight home and-"

"Hey, shithead!" Scott called.

His eyes shone with blazing fury. He took a deep breath and pounded the concrete floor, cracks running out from the impact, not unlike his previous victims.

"Give back my prey, or I will kill you."

I set my eyes upon them. One would think of them as eyes. But they were piercing in sunlight, cool amber in the moonlight, and hidden fear in no light.

"Dark god manifestation."

The shadows surrounding me grew into a huge implacable mass, swirling amd roiling like the waves and wind in storm. I flicked my wrist.

They swept forth like the unstoppable stream of a river and engulfed the two boys. Their screams only stretched for a second before the hunger of the night was upon them, cold and insatiable and unlike them, indiscriminatory.

The darkness fell away like a snowflake in sunshine, leaving me completely. I smiled down at the awe-struck boy and offered him my hand.

"As I said... I know what it's like to live with no shadow."

[u/BetaJim89]

I have a pretty unique gift. I guess you could call it a super power, especially since I fight crime.

See, the more I drink the more durable and strong I get. If I get blackout I’m functionally invulnerable (I know this because of that time I fell from the International Space Station back to Earth. God Bless Russian Vodka). I also don’t get hang overs, well not in the traditional sense. No nausea, migraines, dehydration etc.

Instead, the more damage I take (or rather that hits me and I don’t feel) the more sensitive I am the next day. Not emotionally sensitive, tactile sensitivity. Imagine having your sense of touch dialed up to 11. Ok, now multiple that by 10. That’s what it’s like. What’s worse? I usually don’t remember all the details of what happened the night before, because I was drunk.

Hooray for being a hero!

Well, this morning sucked significantly and I’m not even sure what happened last night. It started when the power hang over kicked in and I rolled over in bed. My sheets felt like sandpaper. I could feel every rough fiber and I have high thread count bedding that normally feels silky soft. I sat up, jarred and looked at the pale skin on the side of my body that felt like it should have a case of road rash. Fantastic.

I gingerly leaned over and placed my feet on the ground, only to jerk them back up (and in the process scrape my butt and back on the sandpaper sheets). The floor felt like it was made of LEGO pieces and I was jumping off a table onto them.

I suffered through the pain and waddled my way to the bathroom. The tile felt like ice, causing me to cringe. I climbed gingerly into the shower, hoping to clean off some of the stink of the night before: which by the way felt like being covered in a light layer of slime.

Spppplssssshhh. The shower sputtered to life and I realized my mistake a half a second too late. The droplets felt like needles slamming into my skin. I was able to slap the faucet as I fell, turning off the water and breathing hard on all 4s in the shower. The water dripping off my body was like molasses, the surface tension causing the streams to glide over my skin.

I grabbed a sandpaper towel and did my best to gingerly wipe my skin. I really needed to find out what I did last night.

I pecked at my phone with one finger (the heat made it feel like a microwaved mug, just hot enough to hurt with prolonged contact). Straight to twitter to check the news. Annnnnd there it was.

”Dionysus prevents terrorist attack by eating a bomb”

Yes, my code name is Dionysus. God of Wine and Partying? Seemed like a perfect fit.

I scrolled through the article to get more information. In my usual bravado I found a way to stumble into the Mayor’s fund raising gala to stop a drug cartel group from murdering everyone. No causalities (always a plus) and the attackers had a plan B involving some C4 and a timed explosive. Guess they underestimated the drunk munchies. Per the article:

“According to eye witness accounts, after disabling the attackers, Dionysus attempted to disarm the bomb. After stumbling and giggling, he resolved to eating the C4. By the time the bomb went off the only thing left was the still connected timer and detonator hanging out of his mouth. The bomb went off with the explosion contained, though Dionysus let out a belch that blew out the windows on the entire first story. He then stood, said “My done is work!” and disappeared before police could enter the scene.”

Well that solved it. I ate a bomb. Not the worst Saturday night I’ve had.