Underground Hatred - My Hero Origins (MHO)

16: Sharks of the Deep

Word Count: 1840

TW: Blood, Violence, Harassment

(Kat)

"Do you really have no powers? That's kinda pathetic. Are you sure you don't have any?"

"Y—Yeah," Kat stuttered, picking at the lace on the hem of the skirt sprawled around her sitting figure. Her fingers trembled to match her voice. "I don't have any powers. I—I'm not sure why, I just don't I guess..."

"But your family—"

"Yeah, I know," Kat interrupted, her amber eyes shrouded by her lids for a moment. A deep breath sucked into her lungs, blowing out the tension. "I know..."

"Are you sure you aren't adopted?"

Kat's stomach ripped. Her face grew hot, her throat closing. A fist gathered her skirt to clutch it with a strength that discolored her knuckles. "I'm not. I just don't have powers—I know it's weird, but I'm not lying."

A steaming droplet dripped down her cheek. The contact brought a new force, a new reality. Rubber hit the cheek with the tear, knocking her back to lay down instead of sitting up. The once cushioned surface below her turned to concrete, her head snapping against the rock. The shield over her eyes flew off, a throbbing aching her cheek. A groan passed through her lips, her tone higher than usual.

The world spun with the impact, but the blue sky above with the cheery puffy clouds was fuzzy, the details gone. Kat's face scrunched with one of her hands to cup the cheek that was hit. A headache took hold of her, white sparkles dancing around. Figures entered the picture from above, blocking out the sun. Kat's squinted, amber eyes traced the image to define who was there, but it was nearly impossible. The pounding of drums in her head and the invisible lump on her countenance coursed adrenaline through her system, everything on high alert, but refusing to focus.

A round of laughing surrounded her from above, the high pitch signifying children mocking. A voice rang out, "If you had powers, you would fix your eyes!"

Kat's mouth opened to retort and say that wasn't possible, but the back of her throat gurgled with something metallic. Her hand over the lump dragged itself across her face to wipe at her lips with the back of it. The slow drag was as if her arms were weighed down by lead, her muscles turned to jelly. Her hand managed to pick itself off her face, pulling the sight close to her eyes to examine. Bright, shiny blood slicked it: a stomach churning sight that left Kat sick.

The mocking continued as a circle of shadows appeared to form around her downed body.

"How many pairs of eyes do you even have?"

"If your family is so powerful, why don't you fight back?"

"You don't even belong here."

"Come on, show us your powers!"

"Get up and fight us! Or are you too much of a chicken?"

Hot liquid continued its journey down Kat's face, her mouth growing its metallic taste. Small hiccups escaped her mouth. Every ounce of courage she gained as an adult was gone, leaving her little body helpless. Fear coursed through her veins, the sense of loneliness plaguing Kat. The blue sky above mocked her just as the kids did, so cheerful and relaxed while she suffered on the concrete, burning in the sun. It was Hell on earth, her brain telling the story that this experience was the only thing that circled around her. No other stories floated in space, only her and the sorrowful tale of her pitiful self in a heap, the center of punishment and torture.