HEKAT

FEAR RUNS DEEP

FEAR

a phantom thief of dreams and life's crimson flow,

Invisible chains it forges, with each passing moment's woe,

It whispers in the shadows, a relentless, haunting spell,

In its grasp, I find myself, a captive, in this darkened cell.

Every morning felt like a monotonous routine - wake up in my apartment, struggle to keep my panic attacks and anxiety at bay, and then return to my apartment, meanwhile desperately trying to appear less of a weirdo than I already am. But today was different. It all started when I watched that unsettling news report in the morning, and it refused to loosen its grip on my thoughts.

After enduring another day of classes, I couldn't explain what came over me. A surge of determination coursed through my veins, compelling me to confront the very source of my unease. I decided to visit the scene of the crime.

Navigating unfamiliar streets was a daunting task, each step a struggle against my racing heart. But when I finally arrived at the site of the crime, the sight that met my eyes was anything but expected. It was a macabre tableau, and yet, paradoxically, it exuded an eerie tranquility.

Strange, isn't it? Horrifying and captivating all at once. The scene before me depicted a dark narrative - a testament to the end of something sinister. Men, once tormentors, now lay defeated and charred. At that moment, I couldn't help but feel a peculiar sense of peace wash over me. It was as if the universe had conspired to mete out justice in the most brutal yet poetic manner.

I found myself sighing softly under my breath. As I reluctantly turned away from this grim stage, making my way back to my pitiful excuse for a home, I couldn't shake the feeling that, if only I could, have transcended my own fears and confronted the shadows that haunted me like that then I wouldn't have to been this daunting fear all the time.

But it is what it is

With trembling fingers, I reached for my phone to check Google Maps for my route home, only to discover that it had been powered off. Well, it seems like even my phone has decided to go against me.

"Great just great now how the hell am I supposed to reach home before it gets dark"

deciding to just follow the path I came from I started to get back the same route.

IT'S BEEN ONE FUCKING ASS LONG HOUR AND I THINK I AM ROYALLY LOST AND I CAN'T EVEN ASK ANYONE WHERE THE HECK I AM BECAUSE OF THIS DMNED SOCIAL ANXIETY.

While walking from one alley to the next as it's better for me to walk in alleys than to encounter, the judgmental gaze of the public, even if the atmosphere was shadier than a con artist's grin.

"Ah...shift...fucking hell...." called me an idiot or a nosy bitch but I defy anyone not to snoop after hearing these kinds of grunts. It's like someone is in pain or struggle.

What I stumbled upon, however, defied all expectations.

A sizzling-hot Alpha male was fighting with someone in a makeshift boxing ring He moved with the grace of a seasoned dancer, each motion a fluid, lethal stroke of artistry. I was transfixed by him.

and NOO! I am not drooling over him, YUP totally not drooling over him.

I'm drooling over his fighting style and the impeccable finesse with which he dispatched his opponent. Each punch, every expertly executed block, was a symphony of precision, and his opponent was but a puppet, forced to cry out in agony by the puppeteer's strings.

My heart raced as I stood there, an unwilling spectator to this captivating display of combat prowess. It was more than just fighting; it was poetry in motion, a deadly dance of power and skill that transcended the mundane.

I had taught myself to fight through YouTube tutorials and relentless self-practice, but this! this was just a whole other level. The artistry, the mastery on display, left me spellbound.

As my inner monologue screamed, "How I wish I could approach him and beg him to teach me those extraordinary skills," the stark reality hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew, deep down, that I'd sooner shit my pants than muster the courage to approach this Dude.

between this inner monologue that I was having with myself. a sinister voice, dark and venomous, emerged from within me. "If only we knew how to wield that power," it hissed, "I would have torn apart these men, shredded their very essence."

a voice that shook me to the core because this was not me, it was like an entirely different persona, the one I don't want to face in my life.

After quaking at that fighter for a while I decided to head home which I fortunately found before midnight. I guess a little stroke of luck is still left within me.

As the water cascaded over me in the shower, I thought of attempting to mimic his moves so quickly finished showering and took a light meal.

I failed miserably it's like a potato doing ballet, perhaps his techniques are quite advanced, or maybe I forgot how to do them exactly.

Cue the cute, self-deprecating blinky face, hehehe..

Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, with a heavy breath. "Ugh.....nothing's gone right today," I muttered, feeling the faint, stinging pain of my earlier fall on my back.

With a sigh, I surrendered myself to sleep. "Goodnight, world," I whispered to the darkness, "I'm just trying to survive.

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Sometimes don't we all want to become superheroes and save the world and look so cool and popular?

comment down the superheroes name you once wanted to become.