Story cover for Not Your Average Superhero. by Zietta
Not Your Average Superhero.
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 94
  • WpVote
    Votos 5
  • WpPart
    Partes 5
  • WpHistory
    Hora 39m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 94
  • WpVote
    Votos 5
  • WpPart
    Partes 5
  • WpHistory
    Hora 39m
Continúa, Has publicado feb 08, 2017
Not all Supers want to be heroes. Especially not me. I just want a quiet life, where I can hate everyone from a far and never be in the spotlight for my unusually powerful gift. My plan is working for me just fine. 
    
Well, it would be working for me just fine; if I hadn't stopped a cold-blooder killer from shooting my town's biggest young hero on stage, in front of hundreds of people.  Now - because my life just isn't messed up enough -  I'm helping the victim, Chase Reynolds; a senior at Hayeswood High and all round pain in the derrière, find and catch his almost killer, before they make another attempt on his life.
    
Great. 
    
Ever wonder if you make plans just so they can be crushed under the boot of some greater, omnipotent force? Yeah, me neither.
Todos los derechos reservados
Regístrate para añadir Not Your Average Superhero. a tu biblioteca y recibir actualizaciones
O
#361super
Pautas de Contenido
Quizás también te guste
Ping Pong Fella de MrSprinkles0
35 partes Concluida
A madman. A sarcastic teen. Two people thrown into a situation they never dreamed of. One must prevail. Captain Jackhammer. A man of many chains. He's a recently divorced, insanely strong madman. "Armed" with a jackhammer, he finds a sort of peace killing people. But one day, he hears of a vigilante about town. He makes it his mission to tear apart the life of The Ghost. Dragging along his assistant, Shotgun Wizard, he kills to survive in a world of people who are against him. John Boxal. A kid trying to lay low in a world of powers and popularity. A villain tries killing innocent people just to find joy. John can't take it. Armed with his new, absurd powers, the media dubs this hero The Ghost. But, out of spite and whimsy, John calls himself Ping Pong Fella. His paddle and wit, plus a friend or two, are all he has to defeat Captain Jackhammer. Paddle and Hammer. Brain and Brawn. Ping Pong Fella and Captain Jackhammer. And soon enough... Winner and Loser. "Just and average day. Robberies, a cold front coming in, war breaking out in some country, jackhammer killing, president gave a speech- wait, did that say it was gonna be cold?" "And he felt this sense... a sense that he hadn't felt before. He realized that he needed to help." "John paced around his room a few times, sometimes posing in the mirror to see if he looked like a superhero. He did not." "John looked down at his paddle. Yeah, it was burned and only had rubber on one side, but there weren't a lot of ping pong paddles that shot lasers and gave people superpowers."
Quizás también te guste
Slide 1 of 10
Children of the Dead cover
Experiment 5475 cover
Ping Pong Fella cover
HERO cover
Damsel[ed]: No Rescue Required cover
Hybrid: The Awakening cover
Heroes at Heart cover
The Government's Toys cover
They Call Me Daring cover
I'm The Other Guy In A Superhero Love Story  cover

Children of the Dead

50 partes Concluida

Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.