The Hammergram Chronicles

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I have created an original superhero fiction series called "The Hammergram Chronicles" and I really need feedback on it.

 

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Here's the prologue and a sample of the first episode:

Rain violently pounds down from blackened cloud on to the streets and building of a large sprawling metropolis known as New Spaniel. From looking at its layout from above, one would think that its identity is a duality onto itself as one side is full of shining futuristic and classical architectural marvels that house some of the most affluent people and business in the United Stated. Its crowded streets are full of cars and people, who are running for shelter for its wrath. The other, divided by a set of tracks designed for its Metro train system, is the older part of the city that is quite the opposite. Buildings are tattered, warn and broken down where once there were vibrant colors have faded to brown or charred black by air pollution and fired. They stand as ghosts of an era that the wealthier have long forgotten or too young too remember and its inhabitance are forced to suffer the pain of neglect that this amnesia brings. Unlike the other side on town, many take no effort to find shelter from the in climate weather as some sit in the alleys and sided walks in depression or trapped in a world of their own, while others just seem to wander aimlessly through glass littered sidewalks, as rain relentlessly showers down on them.

Sitting wedged against a storm drain next to a sidewalk is a large pile file of filth that is quickly being eroded by the rushing water. Soon, the flowing stream reveals a small gold ring in the grime that it grabs and takes it with it into the sewers. As the small piece of jewelry falls to its underground river, it gets forced onward by its ongoing current as it twist and turns inside of it, running into all sorts of flotsam and jetsam in its floor. It keeps moving onward, enslaved by the water force, to the dark unknown of its final destination. Through more debris that pounds down on from above and other cross-streams that intersect this one, the ring stay on this path as if it had purposely chosen it and refuses to deviate. One would almost think it had blind faith that its greater destiny lies on the other end of this path laid out in front of it, believing that all it had to do is trudge onward through this watery hell and salvation can be reached. So further onward it travels as the black of the night blankets the sewer and the sounds of the chaos of the storm outside echo all around it. When it finally reaches the end of the tunnel and plops in the tide next to shore of the city's harbor. Hours pass by as the storm slowly weakens and calmness returns to the air with darkness becoming light. More hours pass as the ring sits there on the shoreline of the bay as many shadows of people pass by, ignorant to its existence. Eventually, its glimmer does catch the eye of someone as the stranger reaches and grabs the shiny trinket from the water and begins to walk off towards the city as the commencement of the next chapter in its existence begins.

Episode One: A New Day Dawns

"It looks beautiful from up here,” Maureen Drowsner thinks to herself as, without wings or plane to hold her up, she flies high above the clouds in a world of almost euphoric beauty.

The sun's light illuminates the clouds below her like an angelic highway. The air feels nice and warm as it whispers softly in her ear. Her long golden hair flows freely in the wind, as does the rest of her partially tanned white skinned body. Her long and muscular arms reach out and gently touch the cloud as they flow past her hand like water. She arches her five foot-seven inch sixteen-year-old body and, with the grace of a swan, lifts up higher and drifts into a loop-to-loop. She smiles as an innocent and carefree feeling takes over her body. She looks at the sun and to her surprise; her dark brown eyes don't feel pain but feel its softness and warmth rain down upon her face as it comforts her in a way that is very embracing. The sun's light seems to be becoming brighter and brighter she begins to look deeper and deeper into its glow. Soon, she begins to notice that light has encompassed her and sees that the sun is gone. In its place is a figure, a girl whose size and build are identical to her own. She's dressed in a white body suit with a gold emblem on her chest of a triangle with a lightning bolt going through it. The suit covers her from head to toe, masking the figures face almost entirely, exposing only a gap for her mouth and chin with smaller holes for the nostrils and eyes. A flat crown like shape stands out from the rest of the mask, curving outward from a half inch above the nostrils on both sides of the nosepiece and continuing around the outside of both eyes and then stops curving just above the forehead. The top of the shape consists of three triangular points with two on the side and a slightly smaller center one. The costume possesses a white cape that vigorously flaps as if they were in a storm as the sound of one encompasses them, but Maureen doesn't feel any breeze whatsoever. The white light surrounding the two makes the figure appear to be almost one with the light and phases in and out of view. Though mask obscures most of her face, Maureen can tell the expression on her face is without emotion.

Maureen yells," Who are you and what do you want with me!?"

The figure breaks its silence and in a voice that sounds very deep, very direct and echoing all around them, the figures simply answers, "It is time."

"Maureen, it's time to get up,” a familiar voice tells her.

Maureen slowly lifts her eyelids to see her mother in a partially faded pink pajama gown standing in front of her bed in the doorway of her room. She isn't Maureen's real mother but she has been the closest thing to a real mother than Maureen could possibly hope for.

"Come on, you don't want to be late for your first day of the new school year."

Maureen sluggishly rises from her bed and sits up on its left side still in a daze of being half asleep and half awake.

She places her hand on her forehead and shakes her head, trying to release the jitters of sleep, and then, with her right hand, reaches for her white porcelain lamp on her oak night stand to her right. Tapping around its shade as a blind man would, she awkwardly reaches out for the lamp in search of its neck, and nearly knocks it off of the nightstand. Fortunately, she catches the lamp by the neck instantaneously with that same hand, puts the lamp back in its place and twists the knob to illuminate the bulb in the lamp. Maureen's mother, feeling satisfied that her work is done, exits her doorway and Maureen hears the sound of her slippers hitting the hard wood floor of the upstairs hallway towards her parents' room; she guesses. Maureen releases the lamp and searches with that same hand to find her alarm clock radio. She lifts the other hand from her forehead, but her eyes are overwhelmed by the sudden burst of light coming from her lamp. She squints her eyes and stares at her alarm clock. To her surprise, she is greeted by a flashing twelve and two flashing zeros.

Maureen abruptly falls back on to her bed and moans, "Oh, the power must have gone out."

She finally throws herself out of bed and walks over to her closet on the right side of the room and rummages through the closet for the clothes she plans to wear today. The clothes are hanging on plastic hangers and range from tee shirts to an assortment of colorful dresses but, having in common the fact that they are each neither out of style or considered "risqué" and considered trendy by the New Spaniel teenage community.

Resting on the wall and on the floor in the back of the closet is a large brown cardboard box full of clothes and toys she wore and played with when she was little. The clothes hanging down from above obscure the box, but no matter how many clothes she seems to put in her closet, the box's presence is always felt. She decides on wearing a tee shirt of her favorite rock band and a pair of jeans and places the clothes on the bed and heads for the bathroom. As she approaches the bathroom, she hears the sound of the running water from the shower. She knows it could be only one person.

"Jacky!" Maureen raises her voice still sounding a bit hoarse from fatigue, to get the attention of her sister inside but there is no response.

"Jacky, are you almost done in there," she tries again with the same result.

She knows very well that Jacky can hear but chooses not to respond. The sound of the running water comes to a halt with the squeaking of the pipes and the followed by the sound of other kinds of commotion. Finally, the doorknob twists and Jacky steps out wearing a green terry fur bathrobe. She's three years older than Maureen and weighs a great deal more than she does. She doesn't even set eyes onto her sister and marches aristocratically with her nose in the air to her room on the far side of the hallway next to her parent's room.

Maureen walks into the bathroom and, as usual, is greeted by the overwhelming fragrance of this special all-natural shampoo Jacky bought a few weeks ago. The shampoo itself doesn't smell that bad. In fact, in many instances the smell would be welcoming to her nose, if the fragrance wasn't as potent or didn't cling to the mist from the shower, causing the smell to linger in the bathroom all day long. Still, enough time has elapse since Jacky first bought the accursed stuff and she has had time to sort of get used to it. She closes the bathroom door behind her and locks it by twisting the little knob on the outer tip of the doorknob. She walks over to the shower stall, slides the door open, and adjusts the "HOT" and "COLD" knobs to cause warm water to cascade out of the showerhead. She takes off the purple nightgown she was wearing and walks up to the sink. She gazes into the large mirror against the white square porcelain tiled wall and looks over her naked body. She sees her newly formed breasts standing out from her chest and then at her face and soft lips. She stares at her nose that has never had a sniffle or sneeze. As she stares deep into her dark brown eyes, something flashes in the back of her mind, almost like a burst of inspiration. The images of the dream she had just moments ago before start to flood her mind. Until finally, she visualizes the figure in the dream, every square inch of her, until she finally realizes the figure in the dream was she.

Click here to read the rest of this episode as well as others.