Not all heroes are the same. Some are born and some are made. Some are worshiped and some are feared. Some stay heroes and some become villains.
On Earth you can find heroes all around you, because heroes are different for everyone. The people who save us from fires are heroes. The people who we get our genes from are our heroes. The people who simply keep us sane are heroes in their own right.
Those are just the heroes we think off; the ones without any sort of real "power".
The thing about powers is that the ones that have them like to keep them hidden. At least, in my experience that is the case. There are always the rouge few who want to stand out and somehow become the new God, when for many, there is only one God.
Plenty of people everyday watch movies, TV shows and read the comics, soaking up the theory that almost all heroes with some type of ability are made. There are select forms of media that portray people being born with powers and becoming a superhuman.
I know I said I was speaking for experience, because I am one of them. The people with powers. I keep them hidden, pretending I am another human on this planet that is slowly dying. After all, the ones with powers want to co-exist with those who do not. Trouble and destruction is the last thing we want.
I was one that was created in a lab. My one purpose in life, according to my creators, was to create a sub-sect of humans that would give birth to a new age. That somehow all of the old generation would die off overnight so there would be no one left but the new humans.
I had no idea what my creators, the scientists in a lab, were concocting. For all I knew, and did not want to think of, that they were thinking of a way to wipe out everyone on earth that did not have the modified DNA of their creations. This way only the humans with powers given to them without consent would exist. At that point it would be a matter of letting the last of the human race die out or repopulate the Earth with potential offspring that had powers naturally.
Money talks. Myself and the other superhumans were placed in families rapidly. Considering we were all almost eighteen with an unknown past to our new parents it was likely they were given a substantial amount to take us.
Over the course of my time with my new family no questions were asked. Sometimes I would try and recall any sort of memory but always drew a blank. When you are created in a lab with accelerated development and taught everything by in-house teachers then there are no real memories to pull.
New memories are created with these people when you know that their time is limited. I want to share with them the horrible demise that could happen at any moment, but they may label me as crazy. Even if they believe me who's to say that they won't be taken out sooner so that they can't spill the truth to the world.
Years pass and nothing happens. I go through the motions of an adult; college, getting a job, getting into a relationship and then eventually, marriage. The scientists never full went away, always keeping tabs on myself and the others. They made sure we only dated our own kind. That way their plan of superhumans to be the only ones to grace the Earth could come to fruition.
Some say the world would end in a whisper. Whomever said that would be right. Waking up on a Sunday and there is just silence. It's deafening.
My significant other is still breathing which can only mean one thing. The humans, the ones normal ones dubbed by the scientists, were gone. It was confirmed when walking out the front door and there is no activity going on. Cars are parked in driveways and lights are off in the homes.
Venturing out, cars lines the roads with the drivers slummed over the steering wheel, eyes still wide open. No stores are open as the people running them are deceased. It seems like whatever was put out into the air did not effect other animals as their calls are the only thing making noise.
Going over to my parents house was not a good idea, but there is a small part of me that somehow thinks they were spared. Whatever fate that the other 8 billion people suffered did not happen to those that I have come to love over the years.
That small part is shattered when I open the door and there is no familiar hum of the coffee maker going or morning news on the television. Calling out, tears stream down my face as I walk, trying to find those who gave me a name. They look to be at peace still tucked into bed, eyes shut and turned towards each other. Whatever was put out into the air happened in the middle of the night.
All of my memories with them are pushed into the deepest part of my brain. The memories will be safe there, only taken out when I want. I know I must move on but there is one thing that needs to be resolved.
Finding the lab where myself and the others were created was easier then expected. It was like there was internal GPS guiding me. Clearly that was the case for all of us as there is a small group gathered in front of the building.
The building is like a fortress and was meant to keep unwanted guests out. What was not taken into account was that now the guests have powers.
Getting in was as simple as someone among us having the ability to communicate with electronics, speaking the electronic keypads' language until the little light went from red to green.
The mob filters into the building, silent cues given to spilt up and search the floors. Each one of us have a unique ability and put them all together and we are unstoppable.
Finding the scientist holed up in a saferoom is not a surprise. They expected to live in the building until the vapor they put out into the air dissipated. They thought they could have their cake and eat it too.
There is no pleasure in taking another's life but for all of us it's justified. The scientists made us and then forced us into the lives of normal humans that we all cared about. They ripped away any sort of future we had. They made sure none of us got the courtesy of a good-bye.
They all try to run and save their own asses, but none of us are going to let that happen.
My eyes flicker like a match being lit as I walk towards one of the scientists. Flames start to lick at the exposed parts of my arms and hands. With each step and flames grow, feeding off my emotions.
The cries of pain go on until the heart stops. A charred body is left on the floor alongside the other scientists that met their end.
None of us speak. The weight of what we did heavy on our shoulders. As we leave the building that weight is lifted. The Earth is ours and we can shape it how we see fit.
