The Undoing Of Heroes | ✓

seven

seven

I LOVED THE weekend. It was an amazing opportunity to do everything you didn't have time for. Like watching the news. At the moment, the reporter on screen was blaring about a traffic accident, and was just about to cut to another reporter when the screen flashed. 

"Urgent news!" It exclaimed, and I unconsciously inched closer to our small television screen, my eyes sticking to the bold text.

The camera cut to the front of Crown Height's hospital, where a well-dressed woman stood and conversed with one of the doctors. 

"We can confirm that one of our patients with severe damage caused by streams of electricity has been discharged."  The doctor pressed his lips into a thin line as the reporter probed with more questions, until the camera begun shaking, the camera man running to a commotion in front of the hospital. 

My heart ceased beating as I watched the screen, flabbergasted. 

"No, no. It's not possible." I chanted, kneeling in front of the live television. 

He was alive. He shouldn't be. 

I knew he'd survived, but there'd been a small part of me certain he'd die from the currents running through his body. My hands sparked, and the television blared louder, pressing the fact into my face. 

My eyes stayed on the tv, but my mind was elsewhere as it flashed back to that night: 

"Hey, what are you doing?" 

My head snapped up, yet my hands stayed in the pockets of some wealthy businessman I'd knocked out as evident by the blood on my bare hands. 

"None of your business, punk. Stay out of it." I sneered back, my hands successfully fishing out a fat wallet. It was the fifth robbery I'd accomplished so far, and I had earned my street name: Nightspark. 

"No, I won't let you, you-" 

I turned to face him, my fury twisting my black lips into a sneer as the young man backed away, gasping. 

"You, you're Nightspark!" He exclaimed, clutching a rectangular object in his hand, "Stay away from me!"

"I will, if you get the fuck out of my way." 

Silence ensued, and I took it as his departure, when I heard the cocking of a gun next to my forehead, a cool barrel imprinting in my skull. 

"Leave him be." The hand holding the gun shook, and I smiled, shaking my head. 

My hands were suddenly blazing with electricity, and I took a step closer until -

I was broken out of my reverie by my name being called.

Not my real name, of course. But I saw the man from that night surface on the screen, scowling at the camera. 

"Nightspark. If you've any guts left behind that pussy mask of yours, come and face me tonight. In the harbour. Eleven pm. No authorities, and we'll finish this. Deal?" 

I backed away from the screen, horrified. As did he, and was about to step into a cab when a reporter shoved her camera in his face, shouting:

"What if she doesn't show up?"

A flash of teeth.

"Then I'll reveal her true identity. Hurry up, dear Nightspark."

Then he hopped into the car, and sped away.