Here is a piece I wrote a short time ago. I've always had an interested at writing but sometimes lacked the motivation to sit down and actually do it. It isn't like a piece of art you just sit down and continue - my stories (long stories, not a short story like this one) I immerse myself in, plunging myself into the world and keeping all the character's motivations in balance to keep the story flowing.
Enough chit chat; here is my story! (Note neither of these characters are in any campaign, although I will probably roll them up if I get any feedback)
"Halt, criminal!" The words sounded so strange coming from Zale's mouth. Who would have thought that a washed up actor, a failed comedian, and a failed father would be demanding something from a supervillain?
The foe turned, his purple cape began to flow from the wind entering through the broken window. He levitated a couple of inches from the ground, and lightning began to crackle around his right hand. He rubbed his index finger with his thumb, and the blue energy danced about his hand. "Who's going to stop me?" With his other hand he lifted the bag of stuffed bills, and started flying higher.
He turned towards a man and blasted a bold of lightning, the attack causing a deep burn as the man yelled in pain. The bank was small, and there was only one exit. The other hostages looked on in horror; the goofy new hero couldn't possibly hope to stop the Initiator.
"Hahahaha, you don't even have any powers! How are you going to stop a powerful man such as myself without powers! Tend to the wounds of your fallen brother, for I have things I need to do."
Zale crouched, stretching his hands within the dark rubber gloves and his eyelids beneath the mask. The smoke was starting to take effect.
"Initiator, you are most correct you have things to do. Don't worry; you will have lots of free time from your jail cell!"
He raised his crowbar, and leapt into the air. Initiator's eyes widened, and he threw a blast of energy at the last second, sending blue lightning through Zale's body, and watched as it danced about him during the fall. He crashed through a solid oak table, and he rolled over and groaned.
He knew he couldn't make it into melee range without some sort of distraction. He slowly got up.
"He comes for more? Fool! You shall taste power," he chuckled. "Only not in the same way I have tasted it." Another bolt of lightning flew through the air. With a last minute duck, Zale barely avoided it.
He danced about the granite floors, moving like a ninja in the darkness. He circled a crescent ring of computers, diving just underneath the desk as another bolt of electricity came. It sent the computers into a wild frenzy, and as they whined, popped, and moaned, Zale calculated it was close enough. He jumped twice, once to get on top of the desk and the other to leap at his enemy. The crowbar slid down his arm, groaning against the rubber, until the end laid into his hand.
His swing was accurate – it landed right in Initiator's midsection. The blow sent him tumbling backwards, rolling over. The few alive hostages that remained fled the bank, screaming as they went. One man remained; he just looked on silently, his downward-tipped cowboy hat obscuring his face.
Initiator didn't wait for an invitation. He rolled onto his side, batted his cape away from his eyes, charged Zale. His fists flew like a trained martial artist, straight, agile, but still strong. His blows weren't like that of a child, quick but weak, or like those of a brute, slow and strong; a perfect balance in between. Each blow sent blood and saliva spewing from the mouth of the self-proclaimed hero, lowering his confidence and morale with each strike. Out of nowhere a belch of flame erupted at Initiator, sending him backwards across the lobby.
He moaned softly, and tried to stand, but fell to the floor once again. Zale walked to the fallen villain, the computers still sparking behind him. "No superpowers?" The only response was sporadic moaning as the Initiator fell in and out of consciousness. Zale turned and walked away, a smile creeping onto his face. Police flooded the room. A job well done.
(The watching man's POV) Interesting. A hero who doesn't want the local villains to know he has superpowers. This may be more complicated than I thought.Thoughts, suggestions, feedback?
Pages: 1
A little more "story" and a little less adventure (Read 1278 times)
