Fourth Post is up

Fourth post is up.

This one caused a nice little discussion on my LJ when it was posted so it'll be interesting to see what, if any, comments get posted from this little entry. It's a neat idea, I think.


click here


Let me know what you think.

Hero and Sidekick

He’s got a handful of my hair and I can smell the hair burning. His hands are hot enough to burn my flesh now. That means he’s angrier than I’ve seen him in a long time. I know he doesn’t understand. I need the drugs. I need them. They make me the Miracle Kid. Besides, it’s been weeks since I’ve had any. I deserve it. He doesn’t see it that way, though. Mr. Big Time. Mr. High and Mighty.

I’m the sidekick of one of the biggest super heroes in this section of the suburb we live in. There’s no power in the house we’re squatting in but it’s not zoned to be residential for another ten years and we’re both immune to the radiation.

It didn't star like this. Back in the beginning, back before I was born, Dad was a good person. He was one of the Christian Scientist's flagship Heroes. The church laboratories had been using science to further the cause of God's Reason. After decades of genealogical splicing and reformatting, the world's first super heroes were born.

My mother and my father. They were both physically flawless and dressed in uniforms of white and gold. When forgiveness was not possible for a foreign power, they were sent in. Adam and Eve. The Power and The Glory.

They had a cool plane shaped like a cross. They were worshipped. That was all a long time ago.

My name is Amen. I am their son. It's hard to think about the past. It's hard to think back to when mother was alive. Back when we were wanted. Back when Father was handsome and proud and I was part of the team.

It happened just like in the bible. My Father followed orders blindly but my mother started questioning her orders until she was excommunicated. She was smarter than my father. My Father was stronger and, at the behest of the church, my mother died, dressed in civilian clothes, with my father's hands around her neck. There were cameras everywhere. It was the end. It broke my father’s mind into pieces just like my mother’s neck.

My father went on a rampage. The vatican is still a no-go area for biologicals. They had planned for this, however, and unleashed the next batch of heroes that they had created in his image.

There were huge battles. Sides were chosen. That was all a long time ago.

I remind him of her just by being alive. I had her eyes until father took them away. I can still 'see' with my sonar and my super hearing. It's not so bad.

We aren't special anymore. We are the model-T of super heroes. There are hardly any people left anymore who even remember who we are. The world is a battlefield now of heroes fighting each other. The ‘bad guys’ champion free will while the ‘good guys’ fight for the teachings of Christ. All the baseline no-power humans are dead now. Armageddon has arrived. Angels and Devils tear each other apart in the street and breed like rabbits in the shadows.

I've scavenged the garbage of the neighbourhood for scraps. I killed a stray dog that father can roast with his heat vision for tonight's dinner.

I can tell he's been crying when I come back but I say nothing. It would only provoke him.



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