I Am (Not) Your Hero

21

"Dear god. I never talked to you before because well...I don't believe in you. I don't know if you exist or not but I don't believe in you. I thought you died in 96, and I...well let me not start by insulting." Smite smiled. "I've saved a lot of people and you've killed a lot of people so I'm not sure if that's something you value but...I think it is. People say it is. So maybe you could do me a favor —"

"Dear god. Please kill me. And him. Soon. Thanks." Starlette whispered. "Please let it stop. That's all. I don't need it to get better or anything. Just make it stop."

"Make it stop," Smite begged. "I can't fix it. I just need to go back. I can be so personable, really. I could make her like me. I just didn't...I didn't want her to think I was weak. I wanted to be me. But now I want to be something else."

Starlette put her one good arm behind her head staring at the ceiling. Then she took out her knife, slumping over the bed, looking at the Talley marks on the floor. She scratched another mark.

98 stared back at her in total.

"I want to be something she can love. I could fake it, You don't need to change me, I'm not asking for anything that unattainable. Just take her memory. I'll meet her in a club. I'll help her with her groceries or save her from a train. If I could just undo it all."

Starlette cocked her head and counted again. One...two...

"What do I have to do? How many people do I need to save? I can give you money, or whatever. I mean...I'm kinda the only one doing that, yknow, so I thought...since that was your bag I...I dunno maybe I earned a reward." Smite looked up.

But god was silent.

Smite frowned. "Oh...I forgot. I'm a disgusting kind of creature aren't I? I guess...a human's god wouldn't answer me. Is that it? Is it because I'm other? Because I'm...wrong?" He chuckled, his eyes heating.

What a sickening feeling he wished he had never discovered.

"Well I don't know where I came from, or I'd fuck off there. Did you make me? Who...made me? What was I made for?"

And to that, Smite heard an answer. Though, whether it could be attributed to God or his own conscious, the universe, fate— no one could know, not even Smite himself. The only question answered was the last, and it's answer was one, deafening word:

Destruction.

And he accepted that, accepted his place, his purpose with a silent sigh. He edged toward the bedroom where she laid. He paused before knocking, his hand suspended in mid air as he contemplated.

The door swung open. There she stood, frail, the moonlight behind her reminding him of an angel's halo.

She stepped aside, waiting for him to enter. He didn't though, just stood at the edge of the doorway. Starletre looked down at the floor and back up at him, waiting. What had brought him to the door? Something to say? A thought to share? A hand to hold?

He leaned against the doorway. "You look pretty." He said after a while.

She looked down at herself, her knees scraped up from kneeling, crawling. Her hair mused eyes crusted over. She looked up at him.

His dark hair pulled back, those lavender eyes bright and beautiful, his skin flawless. "Thanks. You too."

He smiled softly, and nodded at her hands. She silently presented them. He dropped her keys into her waiting palms.

She stared at them emptily. "What's this for?"

"You wanna leave don't you?" He asked softly.

Starletre didn't take her eyes off the keys in her hand. "Is this some kind of test? A sick joke maybe?" She asked, without much feeling.

He shook his head. "No."

She looked up at him, trying to find signs of anger. There were none.

"Then why?"

He shifted. "You're starting to look weird. Your face...it's different now. Your eyes. You're not like you were before."

She scoffed. "Yeah? And? That's...that's just how it goes."

He frowned softly, looking down. "I hadn't realized that. I don't like it."

She scoffed. "How do I know you won't hunt me down later."

He sighed and turned around. "No one knows what tomorrow holds, Starlette. But you're free to leave. You know how fickle I am. I'd take it while you can."

She looks down at them. She doesn't move. It makes him angry, his go to, heating up the blood in his veins.

"Why aren't you going?"

She looked up at him. "If I leave who replaces me?"

He narrows his eyes. "...What?"

She sighs. "I'm your one mistake. I'm why you still pretend to be a hero. If I leave who takes my place? Another girl? The whole world? Who becomes your victim?"

His eye twitched. "Who fucking cares? It's not you."

She sighed again, ruefully looking at the keys with a flinch. The. She set them on the floor, carefully at his feet.

"It's fine. I'll stay."

Anger erupted in him. "No you won't. Leave. This is your last chance. Otherwise you'll die in this house."

She shrugged. "That's what I expected anyway. Good night, Smite."

His hand stopped the door as she went to close it.

"I'll pick someone else after I break you anyway. You may as well just go now. I could forget—"

He stopped at the sight of her expression. Dull. Uninterested. This was normal for her, she didn't care about this opportunity—she didn't believe in it.

"You won't save anyone else—"

"I have to try." She said solemnly. "You claim to be a hero, right? Surely you understand."

He clenched his jaw. "I guess you were right about me. I guess I wasn't really a hero, after all."

She just smiled at that.