Trigram: Black Iris - A Superhero Story - HIATUS

Chapter Four

Working through beginner material was not what Hechen envisioned his first week at SEMTOR looked like. After six hours of deciphering equipment manuals Hechen began to journey home through the usual route.

The journey was not uneventful. Having a knife held up in front of one's face should be considered as quite an event. The man demanded Hechen to hand over all his valuables. Hechen complied, producing £7 in loose change.

The man got angry, "What do you call this? Didn't ya hear me? Give me everything!"

Hechen told the man that he did in fact give all his valuables on him.

The man's face grew red, pulling his arm back for a stab. Hechen ran. A dead end. The man caught up. Hechen kicked the man in the chest. The man stumbled back, groaning slightly as he smirked at Hechen.

"Playin' the hero now are we?" the man sneered, brandishing his knife before adding, spitting out a single syllable, "Chink."

Hechen grimaced at this choice of word as if choking on acid and bile. His teeth ground together and his shoulders tensed.

Hechen didn't respond. He wasn't sure whether it was due to a reluctance to address the criminal before him or because of the growing sickness he felt in his stomach. He took off his jacket, wrapping it around his arm. He assumed a defensive stance. Hechen felt his arms – no, his whole body – quiver.

The man laughed at the sight. He thrusted his blade forward. Stiff, unpractised. A block, mistimed, hit the blade, though the thick jacket protected Hechen's arm against any cuts. Fold, step, strike. Palm connecting to jaw. The man fell, dropping the knife.

Hechen followed. More punches. The man on the ground bled.

More punches. Broken teeth. Broken nose. Hechen ran.

-=+=-

Shaderaven perched on the roofs, her cape flowing in the wind, her emblem fluttered. Metallic purple lines ran from her cowl down her limbs, blending with the blacks and dark greys of her suit. Her sharp green eyes piercing through her bird head mask, spectating the streets below.

It has been a quiet night, suspiciously quiet. Usually the area was filled with thugs and thieves and gangs. Had they cleared out?

Shaderaven shook her head. No.

Only a few days prior was the streets active with crime. Now, all activities just stopped.

She leapt onto another roof. And another. And another.

Faint sounds were heard through the thin roof of the warehouse. Shaderaven was careful not to make any noise.

She dropped to the ground, circling the building to find a chained backdoor. No guards.

Shaderaven picked the lock before placing the lockpick back in her belt. Carefully, she opened the door only slightly. She peered through the slit. No lights. She slowly opened the door wider and slipped through.

Light in the other side of the warehouse through the gaps of the shelves. Using her powers, Shaderaven shifted a black mist around her as she sneaked past the crates.

Two figures came to view. They stopped to lift a crate.

Shaderaven inched closer. She noticed the pistol on one's waist. She crept back. Approaching a nearby crate, she protracted her mechanical talons on her glove, cutting the seal on the lid.

Creak.

"You hear that?"

Shaderaven froze.

"Hear what?"

"I hear wood breaking."

"Probably just a mouse, or a cat."

"If you say so..."

Shaderaven gently removed the lid. She examined the contents. In the dark, it was hard to determine what the shiny black objects were in the dark, but upon further inspection she knew that they were guns.

Call the police? No. Don't want to alert the people criminals in case something bigger is going on. Couldn't afford to directly go up to them and beat them up either...

Slipping into the shadows, Shaderaven exited the warehouse.

-=+=-

The black.

Into the black.

Falling into the blackness.

Hechen was falling into the blackness.

Hechen was falling into the blackness screaming.

Hechen was falling into the lightless blackness screaming.

Hechen was falling into the lightless blackness screaming for eternity.

Eternity.

Hechen felt tears.

Hechen felt sweat.

Sweat all over him.

Sweat on his back, soaking his shirt.

Hechen shuddered. He drew a breath.

Hechen opened his eyes, wrapped up in his blankets like a mummy.

Hechen opened his eyes in the dark.

Hechen opened his black eyes in the blackness watching moonlight seep past the shutters.

Hechen clutched tightly onto his blanket. He stared at the wall.

Hechen stared past his desk. Past his computer. Past his notebooks. Past his bookshelf.

Hechen stared at the blank white poster-less wall.

Hechen saw blueprints of his robot on the blank wall.

Hechen saw the rabbit in the dark, dark snowstorm on the blank wall.

Hechen saw the plain white paint covering the wall. Just that.

Hechen slept.