Can We Be Heroes?

Chapter 6. Strained.

The white and orange suit he wore was currently trashed, smeared with dirt and blood. His fingers as well as his lips were stained with the same crimson liquid as he stumbled into his apartment absentmindedly.

Catching the sight of himself in the hallway mirror, seemed to be the thing that brought his focus back. His reflection stared back at him, disheveled and wild. His blond hair stuck out at odd angles with now focused eyes burning with hatred. Though they wasn’t directed at anyone else but  himself.

That was well something inside him twisted.

Monoma—Vixen—felt sick.

His breath came out in low l, uneven gasps as he stood there, still staring at his reflection. The images of the night played like a video player through his mind. Those robbers, the bank, the moment he lost control. He had gone too far. Again.

His fists clenched, trembling with rage and without giving it a second thought he directed his fist straight into the glass surface of. The sharp sound of shattering mirror shards pierced the room.

That, unfortunately, wasn’t enough to stop the wave of self-loathing that consumed him. He punched through the mirror again, ignoring the sting of pain as shards bit into his knuckles, blood mixing with the dried up crimson that already stained his fingers.

"Why..." Monoma muttered through clenched teeth."Why can’t I control it?"

He felt disgusted, punching the glass once more, this time harder. He could not bear to look at himself anymore, couldn’t face the reality of what he had done. What he had been doing recently.

"Why did I do that?!" Monoma shouted as the anger in his chest burned hotter, his self-hatred growing with each passing second. He had crossed the line again. He had let his rage take over, and those men—those criminals—they suffered the brunt of it.

He had beaten them, broken their bones, and for what? Because they were robbing a bank? Because they deserved it? No. That wasn’t it. They didn’t deserve what he had done to them. He was supposed to be better than that. Vixen was supposed to stand for something.

But instead, he had become something else. A wild, uncontrollable force. And that fact really scared him.

"Why can’t I stop?!" Monoma shouted again, slamming his fist down one last time. His knuckles were bleeding now, but he didn’t care. All he could see in his mind was the fear in those men’s eyes as he tore through them, the way they begged for mercy that never came.

He wasn’t supposed to be a monster.

His chest heaved as he stood there. The apartment was quiet now, the only sound his ragged breathing. But inside his mind, everything was chaotic.

He sank down to the floor, his back against the wall. He brought his knees to his chest and buried his head in his folded hands.

He wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to lose control. But every time he put on the mask, every time he became Vixen, something snapped inside him. The anger he kept buried deep down came rushing to the surface, and once it did, there was no stopping it.

Monoma gritted his teeth. "I’m not a hero… I’m just a monster."

Tears stung at the corner of his eyelids but he wiped them away roughly. He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t deserve to cry. What had happened had, happened and there was nothing to be done about it.

He needed to focus on his next case and gather Intel on the hero Konga. Someone had gone to the police to report that they had been sexually harassed by the power hero but said person just vanished under mysterious circumstances.